For Zanki, photography comes alive at the precise point where control meets the unexpected. Every photograph begins with a clear vision, yet finds its true strength in chaos, the energy of the set, and the human exchange that shapes the creative process. Light builds atmosphere, spontaneity disrupts perfection, and reality opens itself to imagination. In his work, what remains profoundly human is precisely this: the possibility for something unforeseen to emerge, shift the direction of the image, and transform it into something truly alive.


Shot Magazine Issue 17, titled 'Made By Humans', explores the value of human creation and what makes every creative process unique. In an era increasingly shaped by artificial intelligence and algorithms, how important is it for you that the creative process remains authentic and deeply human?
Even though the art world offers endless inspiration, I try to blend what's in my mind with the story I want to tell. It usually starts with a quick sketch; that's where the authenticity comes from, the human part of the process. From there, I make sure everyone involved in the project feels seen and valued, because that's what allows them to bring their own creativity into it too. For me, authenticity isn't just about the final image, it's about protecting that human exchange throughout the entire process.
Your images can appear constructed, yet they always retain a strong emotional tension. How important is it for you that, despite being carefully controlled, an image still preserves something alive and unpredictable?
I always leave room for some spontaneity. Even though I'd love to have everything under control, I've learned that there's more beauty in chaos than in perfection. I do what I feel in the moment; that's what keeps the image alive, even when it's carefully constructed. Control gives me the structure, but it's spontaneity that gives the image its tension and emotion.


In ‘A Glimpse of Madness’, the human figure seems to oscillate constantly between presence and dissolution, as if reality itself were losing its boundaries. What drew you to explore this subtle tension between what is real and what seems to slip away?
I think of art as one of two things: capturing reality or escaping from it. In "A Glimpse of Madness," I wanted both to exist at once. Some elements are built to feel 100% real. Then I added exaggerated, distorted touches on top; that contrast is what creates the "wow factor," and it's what makes the viewer question where reality ends.
Light, in your work, seems to go beyond simply illuminating a scene; it almost becomes a material that shapes bodies, volumes and perception. What role does light play in the way you construct your images?
Light is the most important part of my shoots. It sets the tone and mood we're trying to achieve. Before anything else falls into place, the light has to be right. It's not just about visibility, it's about atmosphere. The way I shape light is really the way I shape the emotion of the image.


What do you look for in a subject's face before deciding to photograph them?
Since I was obsessed with caricature art from an early age, I learned how to focus on the things that make someone different, the small details that set them apart. So when I'm photographing someone, I look for those distinctive features, and I try to highlight them rather than smooth them out.
Building a visual identity within an ever-evolving industry is not easy. Today, do you feel that you have found your visual language, or is there still something you feel you are searching for?
I would love to think that I've found my own visual language, but honestly, I'm still searching, not for a new style, but for the things that make my message clearer. I think that search never really ends; it's less about arriving somewhere and more about refining how honestly I can say what I mean.


Your images often exist in a space where reality feels subtly altered rather than simply documented. How important is it for you to leave room for ambiguity, allowing the viewer to complete the image with their own interpretation?
It's very important to me that the audience can feel the image in their own way. At the end of the day, it's art, and art loses something if it only allows one interpretation. I'd rather leave space for people to bring their own experience into it than tell them exactly what to see.
Looking ahead, is there a direction, theme or territory that you feel you have not fully explored yet?
Looking ahead, I'd love to explore blending conceptual shoots with an editorial touch even further. I feel like that could become my signature in the coming years: a space where storytelling and fashion sensibility meet, without one overpowering the other.







