Fragments of Identities: Hartenjager's Multiple Exposure Photography Projects

Dutch visual artist and photographer Sanne Wijdenes, also known as Hartenjager, builds visual work from fragments of identities.

I once believed I had to choose one version of myself, something consistent, coherent, contained. But I am none of those things. And neither is my work."

In her series of multiple exposure projects, she conveys a recurring sense of fluidity through layered frames. Her work transcends fixed narratives and explores unpredictability, tackling themes of identity, intimacy, queerness, and power. In this article, she brings together some of these projects and discusses the underlying meaning behind the dreamscapes she creates.

The following words are written by Hartenjager:

Geminus

Geminus was born from the intersection between love as a subject and film as a language. The work challenges the stigma and stereotypes surrounding same-sex relationships. Too often, people reduce queer love to a heteronormative script, asking: so, who’s the man, and who’s the woman? Love is forced into rigid roles, as if intimacy can only exist when divided into opposites. With Geminus, I wanted to reject that narrative.

I photographed two men who are partners but often mistaken as brothers, even twins. They share not only a striking resemblance but also a balance of masculine and feminine energy. Neither one has to play “the man” or “the woman.” Instead, they both embody strength and softness, resilience and vulnerability.

The series is built around repetition and variation. At first glance, the figures may seem identical, as if they were twins. But the longer you look, the more differences you begin to see: a subtle tilt of the head, the softness of a gaze, the weight of a body leaning in. These small details reflect how intimacy works – not through opposites attracting, but through recognition, resonance, and balance.

Ultimately, Geminus is not just about two men in love. It is about love itself as a force that transcends categories. It shows that intimacy does not need fixed roles to exist. Both partners can embody masculinity and femininity as well as strength and tenderness, equally and fluidly.

Acidic Mutations

Becoming is an indefinite process. It does not require a specific start, nor the certainty of endings. It is the ongoing process of living and growth, a continuation of our historical present. A shedding of the skin, an unleashing of the claws.

This idea of transformation is at the core of Acidic Mutations. The series explores identity as something unstable, constantly shifting and mutating under pressure. It is the play of two artists.

Pictured in the series is costume designer and artist Anna Kimp. With their background in dance, they embody fluidity and transformation in movement and costume. They created what Anna described as “the beautiful gloves of monstrosity,” extensions of the body that blur the line between human and creature.

The series was shot on 35 mm film using in-camera double exposure, and later altered with bleach and lemon juice in a process known as film souping. The technique corrodes and stains the negatives, creating unpredictable colors and textures. For me, this uncertainty is essential.

Becoming is always unstable – it risks failure, carries scars, and thrives in mutation. Acidic Mutations embraces that instability, showing identity as something fierce, fragile, and alive.

Chemical Subscura

Unstable dialogue between film and feeling. Souped negatives, portraits of internal escapists, imagined dreamscapes. Surrealistic dreamscapes I wish would feel. Nostalgic. But my subconscious doesn’t glitter. It stains.

Ever since I was a child, I have felt lost and fearful inside my own subconscious. We often imagine children's imagination and subconscious as places of toys, color, and fantasy. Mine was chaotic, filled with compulsive thoughts, as if I were drowning in my own spirit, searching for guidance. Some people are happiest as children; I was the unhappiest. Only in my twenties did I begin to experience real happiness by gaining more control over what's within, and only now is there space for toys, glitter, and cartoons – a childhood.

Chemical Subscura resists clarity. At first glance, they resemble dreamscapes, fluid shapes, softened colors, and surreal atmospheres. Yet the longer you look, the more instability emerges. Figures blur into abstraction, memories dissolve into fragments. Instead of glittering nostalgia, the photographs carry the residue of rupture: stains rather than sparkle.

What I love most about working this way is the surrender it demands. Once the film is submerged, I lose control of what survives and what vanishes. The accidents become part of the narrative. In this way, Chemical Subscura mirrors the subconscious itself – often volatile, elusive, and darker than we expect. A longing for pink and glittery nostalgia, a feeling of nostalgia that was never there, so now chemically produced.

Dominance

I have always found the female dominance within the BDSM world fascinating.

Stereotypically, many who seek out dominatrixes are powerful men who must constantly maintain control in their daily lives, but who come to these women precisely to give it up. In these encounters, the patriarchy is somewhat inverted. Where society often places men in positions of power. Here, it is women who take charge. It is a female-dominated field, literally.

For me, this reversal reveals something profound about desire, vulnerability, and control. Dominance became my way of exploring this through the language of film. Shot on 35 mm color film using in-camera double exposure, the series layers bodies and gestures into images that resist. Just as dominance itself cannot be reduced to a single definition, the frames contain multiple possibilities at once: intimacy, severity, and command.

Ultimately, Dominance is not about shock but about reclamation. It reframes female dominance as something deeply self-defined.

To dive deeper into Hartenjager’s dreamscapes, follow more of her work on her website and Instagram.

written by francinegaebriele on 2025-11-01 #experimental #multiple-exposure #double-exposure #visual-art Share Article