This is from a series of suburbia pictures I did for American Vogue. Anna Wintour, Vogue’s editor-in-chief, calls them “stoppers” – one or two images in the magazine that illustrate an idea. This one was for a story about the fear of ageing. At that time, in 2012, everyone was getting injections: Botox, fillers, things like that. It was the beginning of this idea of enhancing the body, but before the boom in butt implants. People were starting to look artificial.
I had to convince Phyllis Posnick, the fashion editor, of my idea. We didn’t tell Anna. I didn’t want to use mannequins and the closest thing I could find were these realistic sex dolls, which I’d used once before for a shoot for Tom Ford. There’s a company in Los Angeles that makes them. They weigh about 70 kilos, so we had to wheel them around. They’re not easy to manipulate either. If you look closely, you’ll see I purposely made their fingers very crooked, so people would understand they weren’t real.
Phyllis and I set up the dolls at a house in New York state. But they just looked like the models who were in fashion at the time, sitting in chairs. It wasn’t working, so I went over and ripped off their faces. Phyllis nearly had a nervous breakdown, saying “Anna will never go for this” because it was too “out there”, or could be offensive. But I always try to push it without getting the picture killed. Sometimes, though, I do get the picture killed. I thought they looked more exciting with their faces off. In another picture, we had one of the dolls holding its own face. We made two or three photos – and liked them.
People get very confused about my work. They describe it as dark, but I don’t consider it dark or depressing. It’s not meant to make anyone feel sad. I want people to laugh: this photo is a play on a suburban woman sitting at home doing nothing. It’s poking fun at the kind of people who spend their days getting massages to make their butts look better. My pictures are signs of our times.
My first ever client was Dior cosmetics in Paris. Then I started working for Italian Vogue, with its editor-in-chief Franca Sozzani, who helped me develop my eye and encouraged me to work in film. I look for something deeper and more meaningful in my work but also something visually impactful. People either like it or they don’t. It’s not that I don’t care, but when people come to me, it’s because they want my vision. That’s a good thing – if someone doesn’t trust what I do, I can’t do it well.
I’m not out to be controversial. My photos can be sexual or violent, but that’s just the world we live in. I think I’m just being honest about it. You can turn on the TV and watch the news, or read any newspaper – my work is quite light compared to what’s going on. I don’t believe in glorifying or idealising what is a facade, or fake beauty. Idealised images are harmful to people – deceiving them with the idea that people actually look like that. It’s like the false advertising in the 1950s that sold cigarettes. I always feel my job is to report some of the truth.
I still have the sex dolls. During the pandemic, I couldn’t work with models, so they came in handy. Sometimes I had them floating in my pool. People would come to my house and find dolls in my barn and think I’d killed somebody.
• Steven Klein is published by Phaidon on 22 September. See stevenklein.us/ and Instagram @stevenkleinstudio
Steven Klein’s CV
Born: Rhode Island, New England, US, 1965.
Trained: “Painting degree at Rhode Island School of Design. Self-taught in photography.”
Influences: Diane Arbus, Guy Bourdin, Irving Penn.
High point: “The first time I worked with Madonna, she used my video pieces for the opening of her concerts.”
Low point: “I recently shot a campaign with Naomi Campbell. The day before our shoot, someone broke in and stole all my camera equipment and all the clothes.”
Top tip: “Find what excites you rather than trying to create a product. Dig deep to find out what you want to say, rather than what you want to photograph.”
