«There's no point in being afraid of the future» an interview with Mario Testino

On globalisation, AI, the new eroticism, and the challenges facing tomorrow’s creatives

Tom Ford’s technicolor sex appeal for Gucci, Kate Moss’s magnetic, mysterious gaze, the saturated colors of Rio de Janeiro as the backdrop to Gisele Bündchen’s dazzling smile. Mario Testino’s signature evokes memories of a distant era, one of glossy covers and editorial shoots developed over long journeys around the world. The photographer captured a certain carefree spirit in fashion that, let’s be honest, we’re starting to miss a little.

But when Testino’s photographs from the 1990s and 2000s are examined more closely, something far beyond the sensuality of the supermodels and the energy at once playful and ambiguous of his campaigns for the major brands of the time emerges. Between the white sheets of that famous portrait of Lady Diana, which the Peruvian photographer created in 1997 for Vanity Fair; in the innuendo of the group compositions he produced together with stylist and collaborator Carine Roitfeld; or in the more romantic simplicity of the Towel Series (a collection of one hundred black-and-white portraits of well-known figures wrapped in nothing but a white towel), a breathtakingly rigorous sensibility comes to the fore.

Like a master painter, Testino has been able to articulate in every image a balance between rationality and emotion with striking clarity: on the one hand, the mathematical study of color and the geometry of spaces and compositions; on the other, the instinctive quality of the gazes and situations in which the protagonists of these fully complete tableaux are placed. It is in this harmony that Testino’s mastery lies: he is the creator not only of images that shaped the artistic imagination of an era, but also of the revival of entire historic fashion houses. The photographer’s impact on fashion was so significant that it continues to be felt today, despite his having moved away from glamour in 2007 to document the clothing, costumes, and traditions of international cultures in the A Beautiful World series. There is strategy at the foundation of Testino’s creativity, even if it is inspired by a spontaneous childhood spent between Peru and Brazil.

Raised in a very large family (six children and two groups of cousins, six children in each, he specifies), Testino spent the first years of his life surrounded by people. This, he says, must have been what influenced his passion for group shots so profoundly, to which an important mathematical component was added only later. As he himself explains: «Many of my group photographs are connected to symmetry and, in a sense, to mathematics. You start with a complex problem and reduce it to its simplest and most balanced form.»

For the retrospective Mario Testino: A Published History, presented at the Milano Fashion Library, the photographer welcomed us into his world to reveal the secrets that helped him establish himself in what was then an unpredictable and chaotic fashion industry. Naturally, we also took the opportunity to ask him a little more, from his hot takes on artificial intelligence to his thoughts on how the lives of photographers are changing in 2026.

Social media seems to have dismantled the voyeurism and discovery that fashion imagery used to evoke. How can we bring eroticism back to the industry in 2026?

My exploration of eroticism came from a completely different context than the one people experience today. Now, through the internet, even something as basic as meeting someone has changed. In my generation, the excitement came from searching for something that wasn’t immediately accessible. If you wanted to meet someone, you had to put yourself out into the world, and there was always a degree of awkwardness, mystery, and seduction. Depending on your sexuality and who you were interested in, there were different ways of approaching people, different rituals of courtship and conquest.

Perhaps the way to rediscover eroticism today is to move in the opposite direction: to close some of those doors again. Cover rather than reveal. Remove the obvious. Make access more difficult. I think eroticism thrives in suggestion rather than in complete exposure.

What does sensuality mean to you?

To me, sensuality is the subtle suggestion that there is something beyond what you immediately see. Throughout much of my career, I felt there was a clear distinction between sensuality and sexuality. Sensuality is suggestive. It hints at the body, at desire, without revealing everything. It seduces through implication. Sexuality, on the other hand, is the more explicit expression of sex itself.

Your group portraits are some of the most striking fashion images of the 2000s. How did you approach these compositions?

When I came to Europe, I spent a great deal of time at the Prado Museum studying the great Spanish masters. Anything that depicted large groups of people fascinated me. I don’t know whether that came from growing up in a big family or simply from the idea that repetition creates recognition. Perhaps there is also an unconscious connection to the military, where uniforms create a powerful sense of unity.

For my advertising campaigns, I usually developed the idea myself and then explored it with my stylist and client. It started with secondary lines, which were aimed at younger audiences who naturally socialised in groups. For the main collections, I often preferred photographing couples. Most brands only wanted to feature women, but I always liked seeing how a woman changed in the presence of a man, so I would often propose including a male model, even when the brand didn’t produce menswear. They would have to source the clothing separately. I hadn’t realised at first that this also benefited them, because they could showcase far more clothing in a single image.

Even today, I work very instinctively. I arrive on set, place people where I feel they belong, and somehow it always comes together. As I start photographing, I’m constantly adjusting for balance, symmetry and proportion. Group photography is always challenging because someone inevitably feels overlooked or believes they should have a more prominent role. Managing those emotions is also part of the job.

The retrospective at Milano fashion Library offered an insightful look at your work on the printed page. What do you think makes a great fashion editorial, and what aspect of fashion photography do you think is underrated today?

Everything depends on how many pages you’re producing: if you’re creating a six or eight-page editorial, it needs to be focused, disciplined and visually consistent so that the concept comes across clearly; if you’re producing twenty pages, you need different types of movement, portraits, wider images with negative space, faces, moods, perhaps even a few smiles. You need visual rhythm. Toward the end of my fashion career, I started producing entire issues for different editions of Vogue. Then you begin thinking beyond a single story. You consider how one editorial relates to the next and how the entire magazine flows together. 

Sadly, I don’t look at fashion today in the same way I once did. I think there’s simply a generational distance. It’s not that I don’t respect the work being done, but it no longer connects with my own interests. What I do think remains essential is curiosity. Looking through social media today, I notice a great deal of repetition. People often follow the same trends because everyone wants to belong. I had to accept being different. The way I saw the world was different, so I couldn’t really work any other way. I believe individuality is what ultimately leaves a mark because we all experience life differently. The strongest work comes from expressing exactly what you genuinely see and feel.

Are there any young photographers, image makers, visual artists whose work has caught your attention at the moment?

To be honest, I find myself looking less at young photographers these days, and much more at painters and contemporary artists. I'm loving the works of Salman Toor, Louis Fratino, Alex Da Corte, and Issy Wood to name a few. Today, working on my personal projects, I have the luxury of time. I can take as long as I need to perfect the colour, the density, the light and the atmosphere. Painting reflects that slower, more contemplative stage of my life. 

As a photographer who has spent decades working with natural light, creating culturally defining images across fashion, art, and music, how do you view the rise of new technologies? Do you think the creative industries should feel threatened by AI?

I see AI as an additional tool. I think it should be used to help us rather than be viewed as a threat. Of course, there are certain fields that will be challenged because AI allows us to produce answers and results much more quickly. But if you have a genuine point of view, if you have something meaningful to say, AI can only help you express it more effectively.

When digital photography first arrived, people were equally nervous. Everyone loved film, and many believed that once photography became digital it would somehow stop being real photography. But there’s no point being afraid of the future. Life keeps moving forward. There is no going back.