Interviews
Yves Drieghe
Yves Drieghe is a photographer based in Lanzarote. His artistic work captures imagery where desires and friendships intertwine with landscapes and chance encounters. He views meeting people as a form of healing, and considers each portrait a testament to human connection—whether it reflects a lasting friendship or a fleeting moment.
His commercial photography is closely linked to international publications such as Dwell, Living Corriere, and ELLE Decor.
Beyond the lens, Drieghe is the soul of a guesthouse located on a regenerative farm in the northern valleys of Lanzarote. There, he welcomes artists, activists, wanderers, and rescued animals, fostering a haven for connection and creativity—“a little place of wonders.”
Your recent series ‘A Queer Guide’ marks your return to artistic work after moving countries — what inspired this creative reawakening?
Moving countries led to a process of releasing the past and a rediscovery, or even reclaiming, of roots. This series became my way of reconnecting with the questions around them, observing and capturing Iker Nafta’s deep Basque heritage within their new haven, Lanzarote, an arid island about a 100 km from the African continental coast. To witness and partake in their spiritual practices, surrounded by the shared landscape of our new homes, our intertwined spiritual, activist, energetic, and emotional connections, was profoundly inspiring. I was particularly moved by Iker’s path and vibrant energy – their blend of shamanic work, psychotherapy, channeling, and art therapy into a contemporary form of witchcraft, which became the heart of ‘A Queer Guide’.
You describe yourself as a queer and animal rights activist. How do your values influence the stories you choose to tell through your photography?
My identity acted as a bridge for this series, which made me feel connected to the subject of this series and at the same time allowed me to explore new ideas and perspectives. This connection facilitated my portrayal of Iker, his role as a Basque spiritual guide, and the documentation of his practices in Lanzarote. My own activism mirrors Iker’s, as his punk roots were intertwined with feminism, animal rights, and anarchism. It was this activist spirit that led him to question traditional notions of ‘spirituality,’ a sentiment I share.
The same connection, openness to be surprised and questioning norms was the base for my ‘Them I’ve met’ and ‘The Smallest Stage’ series, the last one acting as a pedestal for nude positivity, where anybody could take the stage.
Through the lens of ‘A Queer Guide’ series’, I seek the raw poetry of a Basque spiritual guide’s story in Lanzarote, and the landscapes they inhabit.
There’s a strong sense of intimacy and vulnerability in your portraits. How do you create that space of trust with the people you photograph?
To foster trust, I share my own truth openly, just as I encourage others to share theirs. It involves meeting, understanding, and respecting, with moments of unexpected wonder. I try to create a space for humility and reverence, a safe haven where we can explore freely while the lens is active. And I try to connect with their energy, with an open heart. With Iker, our shared queer and activist perspectives, as well as our spiritual connections, helped remove barriers and hesitation.
You’ve been active in the creative industry for over 15 years. How has your relationship with photography evolved over that time?
For 15 years, photography has been a constant in my life, a true passion. In the fast pace of the creative world, I’ve aimed to champion photography as an art form, honoring those who practice it. Valuing the craft and its worth has been key to sharing its beauty. I’ve always pushed back against the idea of photography as fleeting, instead advocating for its importance. As both a photographer and studio director, I’ve strived to uphold its value and the respect due to the artists.
Living in Lanzarote, how does the slower pace and island life shape your creative process and artistic mindset?
Lanzarote has truly been a catalyst for my photography. I find myself humbled by the island—its nature, culture, people, its position at the edge of continents, its volcanic energy, and its gentle pace. It’s a place where I seek to ground myself in its fertile land. To nurture my art, I need a slower pace, moments of solitude, even quiet stillness, surrounded by the grand nature Lanzarote offers. At ‘Hektor,’ our artist residency set on a farm with rescued animals and surrounded by valleys, we aim to provide this same nurturing space for other artists and activists.
What role does identity — personal or collective — play in your work? Is photography a way for you to explore or affirm it?
Identity and belonging have always been central to me. I’m drawn to taking a stand, whether loudly or quietly, and resisting convention. In this series, for example, I explore Iker’s identity: her evolution from the punk scene to a spiritual guide, and how we both reimagine that path in my portrayal of her present life. I see identity as a fluid movement within individuals, and I find it truly enriching to capture that.
Your visual style feels both raw and poetic. Can you tell us about your approach to aesthetics — how do you balance emotion, composition, and meaning?
Freed from the pressure to simply please, I focus on capturing the raw essence, being absolutely ok with all of it, while always seeking the inherent beauty. People, nature – everything around us – possesses a grace that the lens can reveal. I allow the emotion to guide me, and the composition follows, serving to tell the meaning as I feel it, taking in all the energy, without forcing a sense of balance. It’s more about embracing the raw, unfiltered energy and finding the beauty that resides within that reality. It is from this place that I wish the viewer to experience and connect with my imagery.
What are you currently working on, or dreaming about creating next? And how do you hope your work resonates with those who see it?
I put my heart and energy in my art. With ‘A Queer Guide,’ for example, it isn’t about recognition, but about honoring the connection and shared ground I have with Iker and his practices. I’m grateful to be in the present, content in this moment, moving at a gentle pace, and allowing life and chance encounters to fuel my inspiration, rather than rushing ahead. So, I’m open to whatever comes next.
