Benjamin Tagger is a Venezuelan artist who has been living in Montreal, Canada, in recent years. His work explores the intersections and contrasts between identity, masculinity, eroticism, intimacy, and boundaries.
 

Growing up as a gay kid taught me to communicate through visual images long before I had the words to describe my identity. Over time and especially after immigrating to a new country and having to rebuild my life as an immigrant, first as a teenager and later in my mid-thirties—art became my clearest way to navigate boundaries and possibilities. It deepened my understanding of myself and of the people who shape my world.
 

Across all the mediums I work with, photography has always been central to my process. Many of my projects begin with photographing people often strangers without knowing where the connection will lead or what the outcome will be. Over time, I realized these photographs aren't just steps toward a finished artwork; they carry meaning on their own. They document encounters, moments of curiosity, and the unique tension that arises when two strangers choose to create something together.
 

Working with strangers creates a specific atmosphere that fascinates me. There is a gentle erotic tension within the unknown: curiosity, vulnerability, and playfulness. My process is slow and grounded in trust, often starting with long conversations before the camera even leaves its bag. Through this shared experience, many of the people I photograph gradually become friends before they ever become illustrations or collages on vintage maps.

This process shifts when photographing strangers in Canada, where I live today. The concept of 'strangeness' takes on a new meaning—there’s a fundamental difference between simply not knowing each other and being a true outsider. Today, when I photograph someone, I bring my own personal history, protective walls, and vulnerabilities. The photo shoot becomes a psychological shedding of past traumas and fears.
 

Moving between photography, drawing, cutting maps, and cartography turns nudity into a visual language. It allows me to peel away conventional masks and explore intimacy and desire with greater honesty—examining how sexuality and imagination shape the way we inhabit our bodies and relate to one another.

Drawing on a map is an inherently political act. Much like growing up gay, you learn to navigate how the world sees you—knowing when to stay within the lines, and hopefully, over the years, learning to stand out, play with color, and redefine what seems so rigid to others. With my background in architecture, illustrating over maps feels like a natural and necessary act: creating within an existing world, honoring its rules and constraints while playing with the infinite possibilities it offers.
 

When I create a collage from maps, I am playing with the pieces of who we are, building a new identity out of the personal melting pot we each construct. We were once in the closet, and today we wear pink nail polish; we stayed silent when asked about a girlfriend, and today we navigate entirely new forms of connection. Collage embraces a bit of everything, but it isn't chaos—it is a new, intentional order chosen through emotion. An order created to feel whole again.

For me, creation does not begin or end in the studio. It is an ongoing process of living, observing, and connecting, where passion, curiosity, and creativity continuously feed into one another, forming the foundation for the stories I tell through visual imagery.