Camila Pastorelli’s practice begins with people. Rooted in observation, listening, and emotional presence, her photography becomes a vessel for shared histories, quiet moments, and the layered realities of migration and identity. With a deep reverence for storytelling, her work moves beyond image-making, becoming a form of witnessing—an archive of celebration, resilience, and everyday transformation. Whether capturing a neighbour on a doorstep or composing a tribute to the rhythms of home, each frame holds a quiet insistence on meaning, memory, and connection.

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How has your upbringing or cultural heritage shaped the themes and techniques you explore in your art today? 

I grew up in the countryside of São Paulo State, Brazil. I remember my childhood being very documented by my dad, who always had a photo camera or a film camera around. My paternal grandmother was also photographing the family events... We would often be having a group photo at some point of a family lunch for Mother’s Day, Easter or Christmas. I believe my love for photography came from moments like these, and that’s probably the reason most of my photography involves people. I love taking portraits and photographing important moments when people are celebrating or achieving an important goal in their lives. I studied Journalism at University, and with that, I really got into listening to people’s life stories. I believe everybody has an interesting story to tell, you just need to be there to ask the right questions and listen to them. This is a concept that I take to my photography. To listen and observe before starting to click. There’s magic behind an image when you can capture and show someone’s personality in a portrait. I’m constantly trying to get to know people and learn from them through my photos.

I’ve always been interested in the theme of migration, and since I moved to the UK in 2020, this interest has grown even stronger. To migrate is something natural; it’s part of the history of human beings, and it’s in our families for generations. If you are moving, it means you are alive, and there’s a beauty in that. Immigrants are brave and resilient and should be celebrated. I am very much interested in meeting and photographing people who have migration stories to share.

Have you ever felt drawn toward a conventional career path? What made you take the "creative leap" despite the risks? 

I’m from a family with very traditional jobs: my dad is an engineer, my mom a lawyer and my sister a doctor. I studied Journalism at the university, but soon after decided that photography was my path. It took me a good number of years to start introducing myself as a photographer because I’ve never felt that this was a ‘proper’ title…Today, I balance my work life producing art projects for artists and being a photographer myself. It’s very interesting because I don’t work office hours or have a routine; my weeks are always different from each other, and this can be very a bit nerve-racking in times when you have less busy days. However, what I learned in these almost 16 years of working as a freelance photographer is that there’s beauty in the uncertain, and it’s a privilege to be able to be in charge of your own time and decide how to spend it. This is the most valuable thing we have: time. As a photographer and an artist, it’s essential to have these moments to create, connect and put ideas in practice. 

What do you think is the most meaningful role an artist plays in society today? 

Artists have a unique way of perceiving life. Their sensibility allows them to discuss the most diverse range of themes and issues not in a rational or objective way, but in a very subjective form, using art to inspire and to make people reflect of aspects of their daily life, different ways of dealing with the same problems or issues, provoking a different perspective. Art is essential to our society, and artists should be valuable as key professionals, from painters and photographers to musicians and filmmakers. They are the ones creating and documenting memories of our time and culture.

Can you take us through the evolution of an artwork, from that first spark of inspiration to the finished piece? 

Five years ago, I moved from Brazil to the UK to live in London. I had an art project to work as a producer, and it was supposed to be a year of work, two maximum. However, COVID-19 came, and the plans changed. Luckily, the project wasn’t cancelled, just postponed, and I ended up having a lot of free time in a new place that I couldn’t really explore much due to the lockdown restrictions. One day, when I was walking on the street in one of the permitted walks we had a day, I thought about creating a photo project where I could connect with my new neighbours. It was already 2021, and I thought it would be amazing to take their portraits in front of their doorsteps, with a safe 2-metres distance, so they could tell me what they had learned so far with lockdown. For me, everything was so different from back home, and I just loved the houses' facades…a perfect background for a portrait. I sent a message on the neighbourhood WhatsApp group sharing the idea, and to my surprise, I got a lot of responses. This project was exactly what I needed to start feeling connected to this new place and, at the same time, exercise my creativity. It was a wonderful way to listen to people’s life stories and understand myself better as a photographer in a new country. The project gave me a boost of energy and confidence, apart from speeding up my connection with the neighbours. I’ve named the series ‘Two Metres Apart Portrait Project’ and shared a printed copy of the portraits with everyone who was photographed. I’ve also published the series in online publications. 

Describe a piece you’ve created that has held the most emotional weight for you. What makes it significant?

I grew up in the countryside, in a town called Pindamonhangaba, in the state of São Paulo, Brazil. As it’s rooted in a valley, ‘Vale do Paraíba’, Pinda is surrounded by mountains with rivers and fields spread throughout its length. The rural part of the town is just a few minutes away by car or bicycle, and the nature there is abundant. It’s a place that is very dear to me, it is truly one of the most beautiful places in the world. At 18, I moved to São Paulo to study Journalism, and I couldn’t see the full potential of my valley then. I thought I was escaping the countryside and finally traveling to a place full of opportunities. I don’t believe I was completely wrong, but I certainly didn’t realise that in the place where I grew up, I could have found everything I was looking for and more. Someone once told me about the importance of ‘looking with the eyes of a tourist’ at places that are part of our daily life, that we don’t give much importance to. From time to time, I used to do this when I spent the weekends in the countryside. In 2014, I was feeling disillusioned with the life I was leading in the city, and I had the opportunity to travel back to Pinda. I vividly remember how frustrated and irritated I was feeling with everything and everyone. I chose to buy this local train ticket and, for a few hours, escape reality and the thoughts that were going through my head. That experience was one of the most transformative moments of my life, even today it is a strong reminder of the importance of escaping daily life and looking for experiences to allow me to take a step back.

 

The train left the town’s central station and headed towards the rural area of the municipality for a ‘Festa Junina’ (June Festival). June Festivals are traditionally celebrated in Brazilian culture, and we went to one that had been organised by the residents of the region. The wooden train wagon was a ‘musical’ alternative for those going to the party with a band playing throughout the journey. With my love of music – and trains –, being part of this ‘musical escape’ couldn’t be more perfect. The ride wasn’t long, just over an hour, but enough to immerse everyone in the festive spirit as we cut through the beautiful landscape of the valley, enjoying the spectacular winter sunset. These images have a special sentimental value to me. They allowed me to see how important photography is to my life and how it allows me to navigate through different worlds in a way that fills my heart with joy. Recording the life around me is one of the things I love to do most, and I cherish this series. After holding several exhibitions of this series, I’ve decided to start a Kickstarter campaign to help me publish this series in book format: Music Train. The campaign goes until the 12th of April 2025, and it can be supported here: https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1067855185/music-train-trem-da-musica-photo-book

Can art be truly therapeutic? Have you experienced its healing power personally or seen it impact others?

Art can heal, art makes us feel alive, and art changes people’s lives. Art is connected to our emotions, and it is way more powerful than we can imagine. I’ve experienced this while photographing during times that my life wasn’t going the way I wanted, and I was feeling very sad and angry at the world. Photography makes me feel like I have a purpose, a reason to be. Music is also a form of art that I feel very connected to. In difficult times, especially during COVID-19, listening and playing music would help my anxiety go down and give me the energy to keep moving forward.

How do you envision the evolution of your work in the coming years?  What are your long-term aspirations as an artist, both personally and professionally? What kind of legacy do you hope to leave in the art world? 

The way I see myself in the future is someone who can have the mind space and the economic means to dream, create and develop art projects around the globe that are aligned with my world views on society, nature and culture. As an artist, my aspirations are to create a legacy of how we are as a group of people and our culture, share and preserve stories of love, struggles, migration and art. Being able to engage with people and their storytelling so we can all learn from it in order to become better human beings, more connected to each other and to nature. 

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In Camila’s hands, photography is not simply a record—it is an act of care. Through portraits, community projects, and ongoing explorations of belonging, her work invites reflection on what it means to move, to carry stories, and to hold space for others. With a practice driven by purpose and compassion, she continues to shape a visual legacy grounded in empathy, human connection, and the ever-shifting landscapes of personal and collective memory.