A former successful model in the heroin chic era, circa (1993-1996), Susanne Junker has morphed into an astounding creative with a clear unapologetic feminist voice.
Through her multi-media artistry, she is a foil against all those negative expectations of ‘beauty’ espoused by the fashion industry. On a more profound level she is a kick ass ex-model shining a light on the nefarious world of modelling.
Ultimately her work is personal, candid and importantly cathartic. This personal exploration perhaps helping her to “heal” from the “glamorous” world of the fashion industry,
“Self-appropriation never gets old because I’m getting older. I change. I need to keep understanding myself.”
You modelled in the heyday of ‘heroin chic’ describe the impact on ‘you’ and how it impacted the themes you subsequently wanted to explore?
When you look at my self-portrait, Figure for the Base of a Crucifixion # 2, which I created in the year 2000 after a full decade spent working as a model, it captures me in two distinct yet intertwined personas: In the background poster, I embody the ideal of the fashion model- radiant with natural beauty, utterly serene and grounded, exuding a quiet joy and calm confidence while endorsing a hair care product. In the foreground, I emerge fully as a self-projection surface, mirroring the troubling vocabulary and dynamics of the fashion world that had defined my personality and my professional life in the 1990’s.
This work is not a commentary on fashion trends like Heroin Chic or Grunge. Rather, the figure can be seen as turned inside out — a visual manifestation of my internal state. It points unmistakably to themes of beauty obsession, competition, drug use and sexual abuse — a kind of “behind the scenes” glimpse and a deeply personal perception of a world that seems so glamorous.
Everything you are reading in the press today about Playboy agents and their shady male friends, girl trafficking, drugs, sexual abuse, abuse of power, complicit women, agents……everyone knew.
Analogue to digital camera, describe the impact on your creativity?
When I started photography in the mid-1990’s, only analogue was available. My first camera was a fully automatic 35mm Leica. Never a technical nerd, I simply loved to point and shoot. I occasionally worked with a 6×7 Pentax, but I always preferred the Leica with its 10-second self-timer, which let me hop in and out of the frame.
In the early 2000s, I quickly took an interest in digital photography. Working as a commercial photographer in Paris, I noticed most colleagues still favoured analogue but scanned negatives for retouching in Photoshop. Digital quality was poor back then, and equipment was rental-only—prohibitively expensive at around €500 per day for a camera and digital back. A photographer friend and I bought our own gear, rented it to ourselves, and billed clients, turning it into extra income. Owning is always better than renting.
Soon, I began using digital for my self-portraits too, treating them like still-life photography. I could control the process on the spot without waiting for developed contact sheets. I stuck with the same Canon camera for 20 years until it finally failed—the data chip was damaged, it wouldn’t load, and the battery was dead. My last series with that “dinosaur” was Self-Portrait with Mask I – IV (2023).
a shared narrative emerges that all women are inherently hypergamous, that men are victims of feminism, and that fantasies of female humiliation, submission, and male dominance serve as a misguided form of empowerment.
Masculinity and modelling in some of your works, are you saying a massive ‘fuck you’ to masculinity?
In 2018, Brett Kavanaugh was nominated to the US Supreme Court amid allegations from a professor of psychology that he had tried to rape her when she was a student. In response, during his US Senate hearing he repeatedly stated, “I like beer “. The sentence, which was intended to exonerate him, seemed bizarre and, in its banality, described Kavanaugh ‘s exemplary way of male mediocrity and his blatant lack of problem awareness.
For me, this statement became the starting point for a series of works in which I write words on sanitary pads, i.e. everyday items for women that are covered in shame, then I stick them to my forehead and take a shower with them. It’s an ironic cleansing ritual to wash off the male nonsense and sometimes the female too.
I’ve also posted videos of the project on social media. One male artist friend felt compelled to lecture me. He said that if he ever saw my face covered with a sanitary pad again on his feed, he would unfriend me. My response was simple: “Go ahead.”
To me, this work isn’t about saying “fuck you” to masculinity. It’s about creating my gaze — a distinctly female one. And if that makes men uncomfortable, then that discomfort is theirs to deal with, not mine.
A recent documentary by Louis Theroux came out about modern day masculinity-how do you explore this in your work?
I just made a new work about it! In, Figure for the Base for the Crucifixion # 29 – The Matrix (2026), I explore the so‑called manosphere— a parallel online universe populated by young men’s communities such as Men’s Rights Activists (MRAs), Pick‑Up Artists (PUAs), incels, involuntary celibates, hardmaxxers / looksmaxxers (followers of extreme beauty and fitness ideals), and Men Going Their Own Way (MGTOW).
Within these circles, a shared narrative emerges that all women are inherently hypergamous, that men are victims of feminism, and that fantasies of female humiliation, submission, and male dominance serve as a misguided form of empowerment.
The manosphere and looksmaxxers promote misogynistic views and anti-feminist rhetoric, often portraying women as manipulative and blaming them for men’s disadvantages, yet they want to impress and charm women with their beauty to finally use them as a status symbol. Fact is-this online network influences attitudes towards gender and can lead to real-world harassment and violence against women.
Oestrogen levels are dropping, and suddenly I don’t need to be a people pleaser anymore. I don’t have to fix other people’s lives or seek everyone’s approval.
Discuss briefly identity, rebellion and reclaiming ‘you’ in your exhibition “SO WHAT!”
It’s the defining phrase for my comprehensive retrospective in 2025, which emerged from many different elements of my journey.
I’m originally from near Augsburg, Germany, but I turned my back on that region 30 years ago to work as a model abroad. Now, three decades later, the local art association Die Ecke e.V., invited me to present my work in the magnificent exhibition space, Kunsthalle Augsburg. A full circle closed-I left as a model and returned as a museum artist—So what! Almost everything that has shaped me creatively along the way was on display in this exhibition.
Having a retrospective at my age feels almost premature. But in today’s art market, an artist of my gender and generation is statistically almost invisible. Yet—So what! I exist, I persist, and I continue to show my art.
It was essential for me to see most of my works gathered under one roof. An imaginary red thread connected each wall and phase of my creative path. That’s where I realized, without earlier works the following works could not exist.
“So, What!” became a source of enormous energy to keep it going, and from it, the title for my next series emerged-I Can’t Believe I Still Have to Make This Fucking Art. It reflects the ongoing necessity of representing feminism in all its forms, in response to our current political climate.
We are in a constant state of fear through social media; wars, covid, rise of the far right, Iran, Trump and more. Discuss how this is tackled in the exhibition DOOM TIME.
One male artist friend felt compelled to lecture me. He said that if he ever saw my face covered with a sanitary pad again on his feed, he would unfriend me. My response was simple: “Go ahead.”
I am currently showing five works from the series Figure for the Base of a crucifixion at the group show Doom Time at Gallery Eigenheim in Weimar Germany.
This first annual exhibition of the galerie curated by Konstantin Bayer, proposes a sharp problem analysis —delving into doomscrolling, negativity bias, and the profound influence of social media on our perceptions, emotions, and societal discourse.
DOOM TIME — an immersive, dark-dystopian group exhibition creates an intentionally off-putting space and hits you with sensory overload. It stirs up fear, exhaustion, and unease — mirroring the emotional burnout from endless negative news and doomscrolling on social media.
In this exhibition I present a site-specific photographic installation from the series Figure for the Base of a Crucifixion with the works, R U on IG? (2023), TikTok (2025), and two brand new works, Tradwife (2026), and The Matrix (2026). It delves into digital communication on social media, the representation of women, and contemporary issues with sexuality.
I use emojis and excerpts from sexting text messages, TikTok videos, and REELS, as well as quotes from influencers, which I print out and then stick onto my body to transfer them from the digital to the physical realm.
My body acts as a projection surface for practices from the virtual world and makes pervasive language visible. This deliberately deepens the contrast between the colorful emojis, intrusive texts, and the female body, which is nothing more than an advertising space.
Have you finished “This conscious decision” “to my self-appropriation” and if not, where will this journey take you next?
Self-appropriation never gets old because I’m getting older. I change. I need to keep understanding myself. Right now, I’m in menopause. It’s new, it sucks — but never getting my period again? That’s fantastic. As powerful as the moon cycle once felt, this new perspective of living “endlessly” without it feels liberating.
Oestrogen levels are dropping, and suddenly I don’t need to be a people pleaser anymore. I don’t have to fix other people’s lives or seek everyone’s approval. I was laughing with my team in Augsburg while installing So What! –
“Don’t mess with an artist in menopause when she’s hanging her show — she’ll fiercely defend her position, her deductions, and her art!”
The art world isn’t used to this yet. Male artists are seen as professional; female artists and curators are labeled “difficult” when they defend their ideas with conviction.
The Perfect Woman is a Lie, as my two self-portraits make clear. They were shot 17 years apart-one in 2006 when I was 33, the other in 2023 when I was 50. The third? I’ll photograph it in 2040 — if I’m still around.
Lastly, how do you look at your career as a model. Is it primarily negative and would you do it again with hindsight?
When I placed third in the Miss Vogue Modeling contest in 1989 in Munich, my whole life changed. I wanted “it” so badly; it was a dream job and a dream world I was thrown into at sixteen years old. No one could have stopped me.
I think there are two sides to this: yes, I would do it again. But if I could go back and change something about that decision, probably yes. I would have followed my gut instinct concerning agents, model friends and boyfriends-in hindsight they weren’t good for me.
What I know now, in hindsight about this business in general, I already knew back then—and everyone in the business knew it too. Everything you are reading in the press today about Playboy agents and their shady male friends, girl trafficking, drugs, sexual abuse, abuse of power, complicit women, agents, bookers, stylists, makeup artists, photo assistants, chief fashion magazine editors, casting directors, designers—everyone knew.
I always said, my art will save me, and I was determined enough to filter my negative experiences from my modelling years through my art but also the positive ones: travelling the world, meeting great people with many I am still in contact, and after all, this business made me into the artist and woman I am today.
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