Jérôme Scullino

Artist — Studio Practice

Most people arrive with a version of themselves they’ve learned to present.

In my studio, that can soften.

I create portraits that feel like home.
Where presence becomes the work.

"Authenticity, present in every portrait."

Tom & Jenny

You’re not just being photographed. You’re being seen.

My work is guided by a simple belief: in the absence of judgment, something true can appear.

My perspective was shaped early between the French Alps and the Mediterranean coast. Between those two environments, I learned to pay attention — not to how something should look, but to what is already there.

That understanding took shape over time.

In 2007, I spent time photographing the elders of Collioure, many of them between 85 and 105 years old. They were still living, still hoping and still fully themselves. And yet, in the way we move through the world, they had already become invisible. I remember telling the Mayor of Collioure that I wanted to call the exhibition Les Invisibles:

He paused, then responded,
“Jérôme, this is too negative. The Elders of Collioure is much better.”

He was right. But I also knew why I had chosen that first title. Because what stayed with me was how easily we stop recognizing people, even while they are still present. That moment never left me. It changed the work.

The work became paying attention to what is already present — before it disappears from view.

Black and white portrait of a man in a beret standing near a marina, wearing a zip sweater, with soft light in the background

Jérôme Scullino, South of France

Today, I create monochrome portraiture and mixed media works. Each piece is finished by hand, and made to live on your walls quietly becoming part of your family’s story.

When I am not behind the camera, I am centered by my family. My wife, Nisha, and our daughters are a constant reminder of why this work exists, because everything begins there.

Black and white portrait of two sisters sharing a joyful moment, the older holding the younger on her shoulder

Black and white portrait of a woman with short curly hair, looking directly into the camera with her hands raised beside her face

I work with attention.
Each capture is deliberate.
I may ask you to stop projecting, let go of thought, take a breath, and come back to the moment.
That is where the portrait happens.
Not in the pose, but in the moment it is no longer needed.