Working with dried flowers

I don’t just throw flowers away after a photoshoot. Their remains either go on the compost and become humus - or I dry them. Over the years, I’ve collected whole boxes and several vases full of dried flowers. In traditional floristry, this is nothing new: wreaths and arrangements made from dried flowers can last for many years.

For my photography work, dried flowers, grasses, and seed heads have become irreplaceable. Especially in winter, they carry the memory of the past season. They tell stories of summer heat, late summer light, and windy autumn days.

What I particularly love is their texture. The petals have become papery and crumpled. Their colors are muted, full of subtle shades - a quiet contrast to the bright tones of fresh flowers. Dried plants bring calm, depth, and character to an image.

'Warm hues on chilly winter days' - 2026

Sometimes they remind me of old faces: full of lines, marked by life, but beautiful in their own way. They are fragile, they crumble, they require care. Yet they often give an arrangement that certain something. I can hardly imagine working without them, and I appreciate them more each year.

One exception is the strawflower. It is almost perfect for drying: its colors remain surprisingly vibrant, and its shape barely changes. Robust yet delicate, its petals almost look like mother-of-pearl - as if they had captured the light.

I enjoy experimenting and drying many different kinds of flowers - often simply out of curiosity. I’m interested in what remains when their freshness and fullness have faded. What essence reveals itself? What structure, what color, what character? Dahlias and tulips, for example, show an unexpected beauty once they are dried.

In this way, their presence is extended. And I truly appreciate that - because fresh flowers are only here for a short moment.