We met her just before Oslo Runway and felt it instantly. That quiet click when two worlds recognise each other. We kept working together. And we still are.
Film and photography, yes, but also something more. A way of seeing. A way of holding a subject.
Rumours say she’s also a writer. We believe that. True talents tend to move freely between forms. Some people don’t document the world. They translate it.
Rebekka thinks in scenes, emotions, and tension. She captures people with a presence that’s hard to define. A certain je ne sais quoi. Her work feels suspended in time. Like something rare you only notice if you slow down.
This is what we see in her. This is why she is a Muse.
Who are your muses?
A few weeks ago, I met a gentleman at the bar during a concert. He was the uncle of one of the band members. I ended up imposing my presence on him for the rest of the evening. Close to seventy, perhaps; the immediate impression was a striking resemblance to Willem Dafoe. One of those people you simply cannot forget. Married, of course. But a muse, definitely. My greatest role models are the people I surround myself with. If you look past the fact that I often joke about the concept of the muse (sarcasm comes naturally to me), there is actually an important message behind it. The sarcasm is probably just an inconvenient defense mechanism. I’ve read that the people we admire often reflect traits we already possess, and that admiration is therefore never entirely random. That’s why it’s also important to choose the people around you carefully. One might assume that everyone in the fashion industry is made up of shallow women with a certain look (characterized by a lack of facial expressions) - but time and again, I’m surprised by how ordinary and hardworking the people behind the biggest brands actually are, often run by very few hands. Nina and Pia, for example. And Dita, although I think she works too much. Most of the people around me are quite a bit older than I am, usually by at least twenty years. Freud knows why (Bella, that is). 
I like to think that I keep my friends young, but it’s probably much deeper than that. Petra is the fourth person they’d call if I got hit by a car, assuming they remembered to check my personal agenda. Petra is a muse; a multi-hyphenate in the fashion industry. When she tells me I have to do something, I sometimes do it. It’s not her push that makes me jump into the unknown, because I could just as easily have turned around and pushed back. It’s a matter of trust. When I analyze the people in my life based on the minimal psychological knowledge I possess-and boil their personalities down into one slightly disturbed girl-I end up with someone who resembles me: both afraid and fearless at the same time. A little controversial, but not distasteful. Quick-witted, but never mean. Rich in scandal, poor in shame. In other words, she only appeals to the divinely selected.
What do you look for when you create?
From time to time, it’s tempting to catch the first flight out of the creative industry. There’s a constant chase for something bigger; bigger achievements, more important jobs, and so on. I think the people around me sometimes shake their heads at my choice not to participate more than I do. Far too often I’m like an ostrich with its head in the sand. Not very productive. My personality is in no way built for hustle culture. Reality inspires me just as much as fiction, because the lines between them blur from time to time. We humans shape our own reality, something that becomes especially clear through photography.
You can learn a lot about a person through the lens. Just look at the work of Dorothea Lange, Day Sleeper for instance, a collection of her personal photographs. The power of photography only truly emerges when you’re confronted with it. For a long time, I wanted to be a war photographer, like Lee Miller. When I studied photography, my teacher once said my mind was like “a beautiful horror film.” I couldn’t have put it into words better myself - except that I didn’t need to say anything. All she had to do was look at the images. It didn’t take long before I became a psychology student. I quickly realized I was not an academic. Oh, the many lives a young girl must try. I’ve lived thousands already.
To maintain my creative eye, I often leaf through magazines and books, and watch films. I want to get into theater, but only as an audience member; a highly beloved, frequent guest, often spotted in the theater bar, mingling with the intellectuals before heading home to do artist things (very early on, I had to learn to keep myself occupied at night with personal projects, while ordinary mortals preferred sleep - a human condition I have yet to discover). I’m in a constant search for truth. Not always convenient, I dare say. Some things come from personal experience, not least emotions. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let go of my documentary side, even when working in fashion. It’s the documentary aspect that makes things human and real. That includes stumbling ten times before getting one thing right, and still ending up using the material from where you failed. I prefer that to the planned. I consciously try not to dive too deeply into the technical aspects of photography, because I like it when things aren’t quite right. It’s all about being present and capturing moments.
I recently gave a friend a book about Saul Leiter, with a few notes between the pages. One of the things I pointed out was that photographers are essentially detectives. Still, I rarely call myself a photographer. Detective, on the other hand… womanly skills, I suppose. Leiter was exceptionally good at investigating reality through his camera. Much of it comes down to noticing what others overlook, or what they try to hide.
Plans for the future?
I find myself in that strange mid-twenties age where you’re perceived as both young and grown-up at the same time, and you suddenly realize that everything that has happened in your life so far doesn’t necessarily have to define who you’re becoming. It’s hard to make sense of where I am today. I emerge from the darkness here and there. The other day I was told that I need to behave professionally (which I think I do, Mother). Then I told her my tactic, which really isn’t anything other than me being me - a gothic, skeptical creature - and she realized it was, in fact, not such a bad tactic. The problem is, I cannot explain myself to everyone who wonders about my existence. I must learn to just get on with it.
In an industry as cynical as this one, it’s especially important to protect what sets you apart, regardless of all the noise. Often, criticism comes from people who can’t create the same things you can. Being true to yourself earns you the respect you deserve in the long run. Hopefully. At least it’s a tactic where being your own muse is the code to life. Musing is a verb, as I like to say, usually in a sarcastic tone. To perfect the vibe, you must commit. Perhaps the industry’s greatest weakness is that it has no idea where people will be in ten years, let alone one. Not long ago, I was offered a job where the others working the same evening were paid ten times the fee they offered me. That does make me smile, for psychopathic reasons. One really must view certain situations with humor. Freelance life is not for everyone. It’s a lot of hard work. You also need a bit of luck, or to be a nepobaby. Oh - how many times haven’t I wished my father were the ruler of a kingdom! Free from evil stepbrothers and magical forces. My plan, for now, is to continue being a productive, non-royal princess. What I know is that perfection is out, and the 'clean girl' is dead (she was never a muse). RIP.
Follow her closely. Not because she’s loud, but because she’s rare. A treasure you recognise early and hold onto.
