Joana Gauer is a London-based still life photographer and director whose work moves between beauty, luxury, and the art of making objects feel alive. Originally from Brazil, she has built a practice spanning advertising and editorial, shooting for houses such as Prada, Estée Lauder, Clé de Peau Beauté, Augustinus Bader, and Charlotte Tilbury, while her imagery has appeared in publications including Amica Magazine, Le Figaro’s F, l’Art de Vivre, Wonderland and Art of Luxury. Her compositions feel sculptural and atmospheric — balancing precision with what she describes as “the beautiful happy accidents” that can happen on set.

Joana, I'm so glad you're here. For those discovering your world for the first time, tell us a little about yourself and what you do.
I'm a still-life photographer, born in Brazil and based in London, working across London, Paris, and Milan. I'm also the proud parent of two incredible children, Lena and Noah, who, together with my work, keep me constantly on my toes!
You grew up in a small town in the Brazilian countryside, lived in Berlin and now in London. How have those worlds shaped your creative eye?
I feel a deep connection to the places where I’ve lived, even when that connection is no longer a practical one. Being immersed in different cultures, adopting new habits, and becoming part of different communities is an incredibly powerful and formative experience. It shapes not only my way of seeing, but also my way of being.
On a more practical level, these places continue to inform my visual language. They translate into important visual references in my work, whether through local artists, whose work I am sometimes instinctively drawn to, or through the impressions and memories I carry with me.

Your work feels incredibly atmospheric. What first drew you to photography, and specifically to still life?
What first drew me to photography was my mum’s magical description of being in a darkroom while studying journalism. She would tell me how incredible it was to watch the photographs she had taken gradually appear on the paper. From a very young age, I knew I wanted to experience that for myself.
My still life practice also has a deeply personal beginning. When I began my photography degree in Brazil, I found myself looking back at where I came from. My grandparents’ house, where everything felt so familiar, and the objects that had always been there, became so precious and full of meaning – and so incredibly photogenic!
After finishing my degree, I assisted some exceptional still life photographers whose work I deeply admire. Their influence, combined with my own interest in objects and the shape of things, helped shape my career as a photographer.

You’ve spoken about embracing “beautiful happy accidents” on set. How do you balance control and spontaneity in your creative process?
By accepting that you will only know exactly how things will look once they are on set and you’ve started your lighting and composition process. Years of experience allow you to anticipate challenges and ensure you have the right tools and team for each brief.
You’ll have the tools for precision, but the process of getting there might bring you the ‘happy accidents’ that can make a shot. Recognising and pursuing these moments is one of the many decisions you'll make on set, alongside your creative team and/or client.

You've worked with beauty and luxury brands that rely heavily on emotion and desire. What do you think makes an image feel truly aspirational?
In many cases, its simplicity. By this, I don't mean an image that comes from a brief or idea that has been poorly researched or developed, or one created without careful preparation. An iconic image, in my opinion, is often one that is visually uncomplicated.
Your work often captures objects in a way that feels almost alive. Do you think photography can hold memory or emotion in the same way scent can?
Scent, I think, does this in a more complex level. It can bring back a moment from the past in an unconscious, deeply personal and often unexplainable way. Photography can hold memory and emotion in a more descriptive form, and while the experience of looking is personal, it also transcends more easily into a collective experience.

Do you have rituals that help you return to yourself creatively when you feel overstimulated or disconnected?
Swimming. Being in the pool makes me think solely about swimming—my technique, my speed (or lack of it!). It’s a break from the constant overthinking of everyday life, and a chance to be unreachable for an hour or so.
The nights you save for yourself — how do you spend them?
I like to take a long hot shower without being rushed, and then read a novel I can’t put down — I like Scandinavian crime!
What scent note feels most like you?
Lemongrass. It takes me way back to my childhood. I can visualise my grandmother in the kitchen making lemongrass tea, with the scent filling the house. I also have a clear memory of being in her garden, being told not to touch the lemongrass leaves because they could scratch your fingers. It’s a scent that makes me happy.