At Théâtre du Nord in Lille, the Nigerian photographer explores intimacy, resilience and belonging through portraits of queer life
Rachel Seidu, Peas in a Pod II, Henrique, Lille, 2025. © Rachel Seidu
In ‘Peas in a Pod’, Rachel Seidu expands her ongoing exploration of queerness beyond Nigeria, where LGBTQ+ identities remain criminalised, into the relative openness of northern France. The Lagos-born photographer spent a residency in Lille meeting and photographing members of the local queer community: drag artists, DJs, activists, and couples. Across both studio and outdoor settings, Seidu crafted images that hold space for tenderness and strength, freedom and fragility. Her practice moves fluidly between the conceptual and the documentary, drawing on metaphor, gesture and symbolism to evoke themes of self-definition, resistance and visibility. In Lagos, queerness often insists on joy and connection despite danger; in Lille, Seidu encountered a different kind of openness shaped by safety and ease. Together, these portraits form a dialogue between contexts, reminding us of the shared heartbeat of queer life across borders. In this interview, Seidu reflects on intimacy, symbolism and the universality of belonging.
Stephan Rheeder: Your work explores queerness in Nigeria, where LGBTQ+ identities are criminalised. How did your experience photographing the queer community in Lille compare to your previous work in Lagos?
Rachel Seidu: Lille was different; it was other people with different upbringings and lives. But with freedom to choose. In Lagos, despite the restrictions, queer people still create joy, love, and community — and my work celebrates that. In Lille, I saw similar expressions of joy, but shaped by a context where people didn’t have to constantly think about their safety. The project really allowed me to notice both the similarities — the resilience, the need for connection — and the differences in how those realities are lived depending on the environment.
Rachel Seidu, Lilith and Joel Uche, Nigéria, 2024. © Rachel Seidu
In ‘Peas in a Pod’, you captured portraits across both studio and outdoor settings in northern France. How did space, environment, and atmosphere shape the intimacy and symbolism of the images you created?
So when shooting queer people in Lagos, there are restrictions to what can be shot publicly, but that limitation also creates a kind of creativity and intimacy. People carry so much pride and resilience into the frame, even in private or improvised spaces. There’s an urgency there — a joy that insists on being seen despite everything. In Lille, it was the opposite: it was easier to photograph people in comfort, in peace, and that shows in the images. There’s no urgency, no need to hide or negotiate space. Instead, the openness allowed for a stillness that shaped the intimacy in the portraits. Together, those contrasts reveal both the similarities and differences of queer realities, which is precisely what ‘Peas in a Pod’ is about.
Your images are often rich with metaphor and visual symbolism. Can you share how you develop that symbolic language, and how it helps articulate themes such as freedom, self-definition, or resistance?
The symbolism usually grows out of the people I’m photographing and the spaces we’re in. I don’t force it — I pay attention to gestures, objects, or environments that already carry meaning for them. For me, metaphor is a way of layering what’s already present, so that the image speaks beyond the literal. It can be something as simple as fabric moving in the wind to suggest freedom, or shooting by the water, or in a garden — spaces that already hold symbolic weight. Even colour and body language can speak about strength and resistance. I think symbolism gives viewers another entry point — it makes the work feel both personal and universal, because the image holds room for interpretation while staying rooted in the subject’s truth.
Rachel Seidu, Peas in a Pod II, Eya Lotus, Villeneuve d’Ascq, 2025. © Rachel Seidu
During your residency, you photographed a diverse group—from drag artists and DJs to activists and couples. What did you learn from these encounters, and how did they inform your understanding of queer life in a different cultural context?
In Lagos as well, these are my people — the drag queens, the DJs, the activists, the couples. So when I met that same mix in Lille, it felt familiar, like I already knew them. The difference was really in how freely they could exist — there was a kind of openness and ease that you don’t always see back home. What it showed me is that queer life has the same heartbeat everywhere: creativity, resistance, joy. The context just changes how loudly or softly it can be expressed.
Your portraits often evoke both tenderness and strength. Could you share your process of selecting and working with your subjects? How do you create the kind of trust and emotional space that allows your sitters to reveal themselves so openly to the camera?
For me, it always begins with conversation. I spend time with my subjects before picking up the camera — listening, sharing, and letting the space feel mutual. I don’t see them as just sitters; they’re collaborators, and I try to make sure they think that, too. That builds trust. Once we’re shooting, I give them room to bring themselves into the image — whether through gesture, clothing, or how they want to be seen. I think that’s where the tenderness and strength come from: it’s not me imposing it, it’s them allowing themselves to be seen, and me holding space for that.
Rachel Seidu, Peas in a Pod II, iottel, Lille, 2025. © Rachel Seidu
Though grounded in specific geographies, your work touches on universal themes of identity, visibility, and belonging, fostering a sense of connection and inclusivity. What do you hope international audiences take away from ‘Peas in a Pod’—especially in today’s climate of rising conservatism and censorship?
With ‘Peas in a Pod’, I hope international audiences see both the uniqueness and the universality of queer life. The project is grounded in Lagos and Lille, but the themes — identity, visibility, belonging — are shared everywhere. In a time when conservatism and censorship are rising, I want people to be reminded that queerness is not an exception or an outsider story; it’s part of the human story. My hope is that the work fosters empathy and connection, showing how our lives echo across borders, even when the contexts are different.
‘Peas in a Pod’ by Rachel Seidu runs from 19 September to 20 December 2025 at Théâtre du Nord, Lille.
