Jenny Rova: On Jealousy, Love and Tension
Interviews
More about the artist:
Instagram: Jenny Rova
Jenny Rova’s (b. 1972, Sweden) work boldly navigates the complex terrain of love, identity, and the blurred boundaries between personal and public life. Her three distinct photography projects—Älskling: A Self-Portrait Through the Eyes of My Lovers, I Would Also Like to Be: A Work on Jealousy, and Calling Philippe/Prove Your Love—offer intimate windows into her experiences with relationships, desire, and vulnerability.
In Älskling, Rova relinquishes control to the gaze of her ex-lovers, creating a self-portrait shaped by how others have seen her across 25 years. The work questions how love alters perception and redefines selfhood. In I Would Also Like to Be: A Work on Jealousy, she confronts jealousy, inserting herself into the life of her ex-boyfriend’s new partner through meticulous mimicry, exposing the deep emotional layers of longing and comparison. Meanwhile, Calling Philippe/Prove Your Love explores love under surveillance, as Rova documents a three-year relationship scrutinized by Swiss immigration authorities, revealing the tension between private affection and the external pressures of bureaucracy.
Each project is a deeply personal exploration, yet universally relatable, compelling viewers to confront their own vulnerabilities. In this interview, Rova reflects on the emotional and artistic processes behind these works, questioning notions of authorship, intimacy, and the performative nature of self-portraiture.
Linda Zhengová:
Älskling is unique in that it offers a self-portrait made by others. You mention the “special way of looking at each other when you are in love.” Do you think love shapes the gaze in a way that changes how we appear to others, or even how we perceive ourselves?
Jenny Rova:
I see all my works as open questions and one of the questions that arose while working on Älskling was whether there is a particular gaze of love and attraction. I don’t have an answer to that question though, it’s still open to me. What I find interesting is that although all these pictures are taken for private use, i.e. they are not made to be shown to a third person, or in an exhibition or a book, they are an intimate play between two emotionally connected people. The images are limited to the most intimate and private moments but I still sense photographic gestures and rules in the images. When do we choose to take the picture? Are there gestures we make even in the most intimate situations?
[…] The images are limited to the most intimate and private moments but I still sense photographic gestures and rules in the images. When do we choose to take the picture? Are there gestures we make even in the most intimate situations?
Linda Zhengová:
This project indirectly creates portraits of your partners as much as it does of you. How do you think their perspectives, emotions, or experiences influenced the framing and content of each photograph? Do you see their “authorship” as being equally important to the work?
Jenny Rova:
Yes, absolutely. I usually say that the work has nine authors plus myself. The pictures are an indirect portrait of the photographer. I present the images in chronological order but have chosen not to print the photographer’s name under the images; to make the viewer more aware of when the camera changes hands and when my relationship with the photographer changes.
Linda Zhengová:
In I Would Also Like to Be: A Work on Jealousy, you literally place yourself in the shoes of another person, your ex-partner’s new girlfriend. How did embodying her affect your understanding of jealousy and your sense of self?
Jenny Rova:
The work started when I received an invitation from my ex, one of my great loves who had left me a couple of years earlier for another woman, to join Facebook, which I wasn’t using yet. He presented it to me as the perfect platform to showcase my photographic work. When I joined, I was confronted with a bunch of pictures of him and his new girlfriend. I didn’t understand why he wanted me to look at them.
At the time, I was at home with my young son and had very limited opportunities to work on my photography. Facebook became like a window to the outside world and all that was possible there. His images disturbed me and once I defined the feeling of what disturbed me and could name it, I started working with the images. It was an exhausting process photographically as most of the pictures are self-portraits but it was also exhausting mentally.
Often he had asked me to pose in the same places and the same poses as she was depicted. It was like I was reliving our relationship. Almost like a triangle drama that only I was aware of. It was sad because I was the one who was left behind but at the same time, the work gave me a sense of revenge because I got a photographic advantage over them. It was interesting to work and stand up for the feelings of revenge and jealousy. These are emotions that are often considered bad and that we often try to hide.
[…] the work gave me a sense of revenge because I got a photographic advantage over them. It was interesting to work and stand up for the feelings of revenge and jealousy. These are emotions that are often considered bad and that we often try to hide.
Linda Zhengová:
By overlaying your image onto hers, you are both reclaiming and rewriting the narrative. Did this process give you any sense of closure or empowerment?
Jenny Rova:
On different levels. Images on social media have the effect of making us compare ourselves to them and our own lives. The person posting the images gives up their responsibility for how the viewer reacts to the images. I chose to see their pictures as an opportunity. I created my dream life using how they chose to show their relationship on Facebook. The work took a very long time as I didn’t have much time to work due to my life situation and it was very exhausting. This meant that I had time to get tired of them.
When I took the poses in the same way he asked me to take a couple of years earlier, I also realized that they were not worth much. That Lisa and I are to some extent interchangeable. That Johan and my feelings for each other were not in proportion to each other. The process made me land in the situation I was living then and become less sentimental about how my and Johan’s relationship has been.
Linda Zhengová:
In Calling Philippe/Prove Your Love, you explore the complexities of love, documentation, and the bureaucratic scrutiny of relationships. How did the experience of documenting your relationship under surveillance change the way you saw intimacy and trust within the relationship?
Jenny Rova:
When I started taking these screenshots on the sly, it was for purely selfish reasons. I wanted pictures of him but he didn’t want to be photographed. It was quite late in the process that they turned into a documentation of our relationship. It was when the immigration authorities asked for photographic evidence that we had a love relationship. Conducting a love affair where one of the parties is completely at the mercy of the other’s feelings is difficult for both parties. The distrust of the authorities can creep in when the relationship is struggling. Our society systematizes this. They try to make it as difficult as possible for the relationship to break down.
[…] The distrust of the authorities can creep in when the relationship is struggling. Our society systematizes this. They try to make it as difficult as possible for the relationship to break down.
Linda Zhengová:
The act of secretly taking screenshots reflects a desire to hold onto something fleeting, especially given Philippe’s precarious situation. Do you see this as an act of preservation or intrusion? How did Philippe react once he knew about the screenshots?
Jenny Rova:
In the beginning, it was just a way for me to have pictures of him because I was in love and I thought he was so handsome; I wanted to hold on to our moments together. As a photographer, I have always photographed those who are close to me. When I told him about the pictures, it was when we were at our lawyer’s office and the lawyer said that we had to have photographic proof that we were a couple in love, it turned out that Philippe already knew about it. When you take a screenshot, the picture turns white on the other person’s phone. So he had known I was taking pictures of him but hadn’t said anything. He thought it was good that I took the pictures because it helped us in the process of getting married. Now, he also thinks it is important that the work is shown because it describes the terrible situation we had to go through, which is, unfortunately, a situation so many other couples still have to undergo.
Linda Zhengová:
The authorities required proof of your love in the form of photos. How did it feel to have the most private aspects of your relationship become a tool for validation by an external, official force?
Jenny Rova:
It was not only photo evidence they asked for but also our entire text message conversations,and letters from friends and acquaintances confirming that we were a couple in love. I see it as pure abuse that can be equated with mental torture. If I had been rich, the process would have been much easier. So much for the equal value of human beings and that we have the right to love whoever we want. Our love was criminal and punishable.
Linda Zhengová:
This work chronicles a two-year journey leading up to your marriage. Looking back at these screenshots, do they now feel more like evidence of love or evidence of the external pressures placed upon your relationship?
Jenny Rova:
I see how our relationship develops. In the beginning, we are newly in love and happy. Then I notice how Philippe starts to feel worse and worse because of the external stress and I am driven into a severe illness because of it. The external stress is so strongly interwoven in our relationship that it becomes part of it. What should be the most intimate, the love between people, becomes political. That is what I see.
Linda Zhengová:
Across these three projects, self-portraiture takes many forms—from photographs taken by others to self-insertion into others’ lives, to covertly documenting a relationship. How do you define authorship in these works? Is authorship shared, contested, or reclaimed?
Jenny Rova:
My work often challenges the rules of image rights, authorisation, and consent.
When I have received awards for Älskling, it has always started a debate. “She didn’t even take the pictures herself.” That’s only partly true. If I hadn’t lived the way I have and hadn’t always tried to take pictures at the most intimate moments, none of these pictures would exist. When I took pictures, my partners wanted to do the same. In Älskling, it is also clear that the work has nine different authors plus me.
In I would also like to be – Work on jealousy, I am the author. I use their photographs and image legends from Facebook as material to create my work. However, it was a long process afterward to get their permission to show the work. I also see this as an important part of the process and date the work to the year I received their permission.
In Calling Phillipe/Prove Your Love, I don’t know what I would have done if he had objected to me using the pictures. It was a question I didn’t have to take a stand on because he agreed to me presenting the images. I see myself as the author, telling the story of our life together. Here I have been very careful to cross out all names in the documents from the various authorities. Not because I think it is morally correct, or because they are not co-authors but because I was afraid of legal reprisals against us that could cause Philippe difficulties with his residence permit. From my perspective, you should be responsible for the letters you sign, even as an official. We would have much less violence in the world if everyone had to stand by what they sign.
In general, I think we talk too much about copyright and authorship in art. We should focus more on responsibility.
[…] In general, I think we talk too much about copyright and authorship in art. We should focus more on responsibility.
Linda Zhengová:
Each of your projects involves layers of intimacy, yet they are all presented publicly. How do you negotiate the balance between personal vulnerability and artistic exposure?
Jenny Rova:
I am very interested in what is considered private and universal, and the border between these two poles. My starting point is always deeply personal. During the working process, it changes. Other aspects come into play, such as thoughts about photography, politics, norms, and history. The work moves away, so to speak, from the deeply personal feeling and it becomes more conceptual and universal during the process. But my projects never start from an idea. The slow pace of the creative process is important, it makes each series more public and that is necessary in order to be relevant to other people. I expose myself a lot in my work, but I think it’s necessary because I also expose others, and the balance has to be right.
[…] I expose myself a lot in my work, but I think it’s necessary because I also expose others, and the balance has to be right.
Linda Zhengová:
Your projects often explore moments of emotional tension. How do you think this tension is communicated visually, and what do you hope the audience feels or confronts when viewing these works?
Jenny Rova:
It’s interesting what happens to an image if you move it from one photographic space to another. All the pictures in Älskling are taken in a deeply private setting and not made to be viewed by a third person, which is what all the pictures in the series have in common. Something happens to that kind of picture when you hang it on a wall in an exhibition space. There’s a picture in the series of me masturbating on a couch. When that picture is hanging in an exhibition, you can’t look at it for too long because everyone else in the room sees how long you gaze at the photograph. You need to calculate their judgment about you when you look at it. In the book the picture works differently, the whole book is edited as if you are my lover when flipping the pages. The book is a more intimate space. This is almost two different works Älskling on the wall or Älskling in the book. Both forms of presentation work well but in different ways.
In I would also like to be – A Work on Jealousy I also explore the different photographic spaces with an emphasis on the effect images have on social media. I think the movement of the images between the various photographic spaces and the shifting of the boundaries between what is private and what is universal builds up a kind of tension.
I take my images from the “small world,” the place that in most societies is reserved for women and children which is in most contexts seen as vehemently uninteresting. The way I process the images and send them out from the “small world” is different from the way this type of imagery is usually processed. In the end, I am not working with personal stories tied to specific individuals. I also don’t send them out with a clear political address. I’m often told that my work is too personal and therefore implicitly not art. In reality, my work has little to do with me as an individual in its final form. What I have noticed is that my work is very well received by people who are not artistically trained and are not part of the art world. It is an aspect that I greatly appreciate.