In an era where it has become increasingly difficult to stand out, you seem to insist that personal vision and authenticity still claim a strong place in our lives. What do you think makes your work unique?
Straight into the deep end. What I’ve always wanted from my work is for it to be personal—something of myself in it. My strongest images are connected to things that genuinely interest me. I love fashion photography, and I believe that a good fashion photograph carries something of its time; it reflects its era. You might not immediately recognise when it was taken, but for me, a strong image has a story. It is a historical document, whether it’s fashion, landscape, or architecture.
That’s why I love fashion—it’s constantly evolving, and when you look at a fashion photograph, you understand the time it belongs to. And when it’s truly good, it never ages. That’s what’s remarkable about photography. With my recent retrospective exhibition in Lesvos, I saw this clearly in my own work: although the photographs were taken years ago, they belonged to a specific era, yet I could have created them today as well. That, for me, is the most important thing.
How is the authenticity of a moment translated into a photograph?
If you live in the present, in the time you’re photographing, and you understand something about your era, you naturally bring that into your work. It’s a matter of time scale—it gives us a key reference point of the era and allows us to remember exactly how we thought, how we felt, who we were, what we had seen that led us there, or what we hadn’t yet seen.
That’s what good photography does, regardless of genre. It doesn’t age. If an image is honest, it doesn’t get lost. If it’s fake or constructed to follow trends, time exposes it very quickly.
Something similar happens in design…
In all aspects of design—photography, painting—the same applies. With the project Back to the Future Furniture, which I run with my wife Penny, we collect the best furniture pieces from different eras—objects that were designed properly, are functional, timeless, and don’t age.
We always collected furniture for ourselves from past decades—the ’70s, ’80s, ’90s. As the collection grew, we photographed the pieces, people asked to buy them, and it gradually evolved into a business. It’s something we truly enjoy—original design pieces—and for me, it’s a part-time creative occupation that I love.
We curated the furniture at the Ace Hotel, using vintage design pieces throughout the space. I’ve always loved design and architecture. Bauhaus, for me, represents so many things—it influenced how I photograph and how I incorporate a chair or a rare design object into my images. It was always essential to my editorials.
That’s how the collection grew. Then I met Penny, who shares the same obsession, and it evolved into something beautiful that also became a business. Our space in Votanikos is half studio, half location—filled with strong design pieces—used both for my shoots and for presenting the furniture. It’s a Bauhaus building that became our office and studio.
What do you consider the most important milestones in your career—those you’re proud of and that brought you to where you are today?
My first cover was for a small underground fashion magazine in Australia while I was still studying photography. It was collectible. It may have seemed insignificant to others, but for me, it was hugely motivating.
Another standout moment was a shoot and cover for The Sunday Times magazine with Devon Aoki, with Isabella Blow as fashion director, during my years in London. Isabella was one of the most influential figures in fashion at the time. She helped me immensely—she was always looking for new talent and truly collaborated with people.
I had met her in New York, and she told me she wanted to see my work. I took that seriously, and one of the main reasons I moved to London was to find her and show her my portfolio. It worked—she commissioned me for the Sunday Times project. It was the era of McQueen, Alaïa, and Kokosalaki, and Isabella was their mentor. That commission helped me enormously, especially with Devon, who was just starting her career then.
Another major milestone was working for Self Service magazine in Paris, which was a style icon of the time, with an underground aesthetic and some of the most important names in the industry. Back then, there was no internet—personal connections mattered. I remember flying to Paris just for a day to attend meetings. One particular day, I had three appointments: Self Service, APC for a campaign, and L’Officiel for an editorial. I got all three jobs and returned to London that night by train, so happy that I ordered champagne.
How did your transition to Greece happen?
From a young age, I was obsessed with photography. I studied photography in Australia at a very strong school and was always pushing myself. When I graduated, I felt ready. I never worked as an assistant—I decided to travel and chase my luck.
I went to Spain, then briefly to Greece in the early ’90s, which was a golden era for magazines. A friend suggested I look for Denny Christopoulou, who was editor-in-chief of Klik during the Kostopoulos era. She was exceptional—they created strong, creative work with a Greek identity and supported me greatly.
I stayed for a while, left again, lived in New York, later moved to London, and continued working in Athens as well. Greece supported me in a way that allowed me to build my career alongside London. In Athens, I experimented, tested techniques in a safer environment, while in London I pursued more demanding projects.
Greece was a turning point for me. I was also living in New York at the time and traveling frequently to Athens, where there was a lot of work. It was ideal—I could sustain myself through work in Greece while developing more conceptual projects abroad. Athens helped me immensely, and I will never forget that.
How does an everyday image, through your lens, become a work of art? Is it method, coincidence, or something else?
No one has a definitive answer. It’s different for everyone—and that’s the answer. Some people may see something ordinary, but for a more observant eye, there might be a unique detail.
What makes a photograph a work of art is its uniqueness—something that can exist only there. It’s about what you’re searching for in an image. For me, photography lies in the final touches—the moment you look at an image and feel that something is missing, when you stop and question whether everything is right. A good artist can analyse that question and resolve it.
When we look at an image, something always draws our eye—but it’s different for each person. What makes it art is its uniqueness. That’s what makes it singular.
How did the exhibition in Lesvos come about, and what does it include?
I had visited Lesvos three years ago one summer to see Nikolas Vamvoukis and Angelos Frentzos, and it happened to coincide with the period when Nikolas had his own exhibition there. I really loved the space and the concept of art existing in the middle of nowhere. To encounter something you usually see in major cities, placed in a remote village, felt powerful. The people you meet there are also very different from those you encounter on the streets of Athens.
There was something truly special about that contrast. When Nikolas proposed the idea to me, I was immediately excited and accepted. It was an opportunity to create a retrospective exhibition of my work over the years, and I was curious to see how everything would come together in one space—and how recognisable my visual language really is.
It’s essentially a massive editorial. When I saw it installed, I was genuinely happy. I had never done anything on such a large scale before, with so many images. The result made me proud. At the very least, it confirmed that I didn’t choose the wrong career.
Has being recognised and distinguished changed you as a person?
Am I really recognised? Honestly, I’m more recognisable because of GNTM. It’s rare for someone to come up to me and say they know my work. I’m more known by name—usually when someone introduces me. As a photographer, if people recognise your face more than your work, then something has gone wrong.
What do you consider the greatest quality a person can have, and where did you encounter it?
Someone who knows how to listen—even if they are the most successful person in their field. It’s important to know what you want, but also to listen to others, even when you don’t agree. Usually, when we make the effort to truly listen, it’s because somewhere inside us there’s a doubt we’re trying to resolve.
What is the distillation—the first thought of wisdom—that maturity has given you?
Work is important for all of us, and it’s vital to feel empowered by it. But what matters most is our family and the people we love. Having people around you who truly understand you is incredibly important.
Do you have any unfulfilled ambitions—someone you’d like to meet or photograph, or something you’d still like to do for yourself?
There are many things I’d still like to do. A photographer’s work never truly ends, no matter how much you’ve accomplished. Of course, there are photographers far more successful than me who have done similar things. What matters to me is maintaining balance between my professional and personal life. I don’t want to sacrifice my life just to climb higher professionally. If I did, I wouldn’t be happy.
What does Greece mean to you? How do you like to photograph it, and how do you compare it to other countries?
It’s my home. Even though I grew up in Australia, I always felt more comfortable here, more accepted. In Australia, I felt like an outsider because of the cultural differences. I felt foreign there. But in Greece, which I visited from a young age, I always felt Greek. There was never that difficulty of being accepted.
What do you love most about your work?
The fact that I’m still given the opportunity to do things I truly love—and to be surrounded by people who make me smarter.
The most beautiful thing is having friends through your work, feeling that the people you collaborate with are truly your friends. Like stylist Sarah Richardson—we started our careers together. She now has her own magazine, Beyond Noise, and she gives me projects, which is a huge honour for me. It means she trusts me, alongside people who were once my idols.
Push Plus One
From 17 January to 15 March 2026, K-Gold Temporary Gallery in Lesvos hosts Push Plus One, a retrospective photography exhibition by internationally acclaimed fashion photographer Bill Georgoussis, curated by Nikolas Vamvoukis.
The exhibition presents defining moments from Georgoussis’s 30-year international career, previously unpublished archival material, and a new participatory installation that offers visitors insight into the backstage of his creative process.
