From one white room to another, Nemanja Maraš bares his soul. The series of self-portraits titled ‘Reflections’ was created in his brightly lit studio and workshop, then displayed at the equally radiant MONOLOG gallery in Belgrade. It sees Nemanja at his most creative, but also in the midst of self-discovery.

Having worked as an accomplished fashion photographer for many years, over time Nemanja became more interested in portraiture, culminating in several groundbreaking personal projects. One of them examined his friends in the state of limbo between dream and wakefulness, portraying them “before they could put on the mask they wear for the world,” he remembers. Another saw him shooting ballet dancers as they came off stage, “drained and full of emotion.”

“At a certain point I figured that I’m better at capturing that authentic side of people rather than some facade,” he explains. “I want to show people as they are, and that includes myself. I try to battle the trend of people wanting to be something they’re not or feeling guilty about who they are. Being yourself can be more infinitely compelling and beautiful.”

With ‘Reflections’ the importance of self-portraits to Nemanja is clear. “They’re a perfect way to get to know and appreciate yourself,” he says. “In fact, when I taught photography at a dance school, I used them as a part of the curriculum. They can be experimental and challenging, helping people find their voice and discover that there’s no more important collaborator than themself.”

So how did ‘Reflections’ begin? “It started with a mixed media experiment using 12 self-portraits,” he remembers, “just basic images onto which I drew, painted and added collage elements. Like many of the images in ‘Reflections,’ the idea for that came during a therapy session. My therapist said, ‘you were a lot for others, so you became too much for yourself.’ That’s why I made each face different, as though I’m trying to adapt to other peoples’ expectations.”

Other photos in the project see him defocused, silhouetted or with his face obscured or cut from the frame, creating the sense that identity is dynamic and constantly changing. Elsewhere, there are frames of water and stone, intertwined with portraits, which feel like projected memories from their creator. “I have a definition for each,” he says, “but they’re private.”

Shot on his Sony Alpha 7R V, a favourite of editorial and portrait photographers, Nemanja identifies several features that helped in his work. “Obviously, it can be harder to focus and compose than with a regular portrait,” he explains, “but the Alpha 7R V has some neat ways of tackling those problems. Its brilliant eye-detection AF is one, not only keeping the focus where it’s required, but also meaning I’m more relaxed.”

“The fact is,” he explains, “I can’t check my own expression as I would with others when shooting and if I’m worried about focus it’ll show on my face. What I do is set the camera on a tripod, have it focus on me, then use its interval timer to fire off 60 shots. Then I move through the space and pick the best images. I actually got lucky with the one that was out of focus – I like those random moments, but you actually have to fight this camera to lose focus at all!”

“The Alpha 7R V’s huge 60Mp resolution also helps a lot, helping me crop in a little if needed and still have a big file for printing,” he continues. “For instance, many of my images are cropped from horizontal to vertical to tighten the frame. That said, the one of me where my head is out of frame happened in-camera. It’s one of those happy accidents which can tell the story exactly as you wanted.”

Nemanja also made use of the Alpha 7R V’s black & white profile. “Many photographers don’t realise that lighting for monochrome and colour isn’t the same,” he explains. “In the former you need extra contrast and intensity, pushing the highlights and shadows to the extremes, and so even though I use full colour Raws in editing, the black & white preview takes away the guesswork.”

But in the end, some guessing is still desirable, he says, even if it’s more in a photo’s meaning, than its execution. “What I learned during this project is to move beyond the need to explain why a portrait appears as it does. An explanation doesn’t mean legitimacy and I’m happy to let others read them how they want. These kinds of self-portraits can come from 30-year-old memories, or from yesterday, as well as the kind of inspiration that only happens when you’re comfortable with your gear and just experimenting in the moment. What’s important is making them.”