Daniella Fishburne

Your series “Echoes of Her” explores the relationship between mother and daughter. How did this project begin, and what personal moment or realization sparked its creation?

The project began from a quiet realization rather than a single defining moment. I started noticing subtle gestures, expressions, and emotional patterns in my daughter that felt deeply familiar—almost like watching fragments of myself reappear in another time. That recognition created both intimacy and distance, and I wanted to explore that tension. “Echoes of Her” became a way of tracing those reflections, of asking where one identity ends and another begins.

Daniella Fishburne | Echoes of Her | 2026

The idea of identity appears fluid in your work. How do you see identity evolving between generations, especially within such an intimate bond?

I see identity as something that is continuously shaped through proximity, memory, and inheritance—both conscious and unconscious. Between mother and daughter, this evolution feels especially layered. There are shared traits and learned behaviors, but also resistance and divergence. What interests me is that identity isn’t passed down in a fixed way—it shifts, mutates, and continually redefines itself over time. In that sense, each generation is both a continuation and a reimagining.

Daniella Fishburne | Echoes of Her | 2026

You transitioned from digital manipulation to in-camera double exposure. What motivated this shift, and how did it change your creative process?

I felt a need to slow down and relinquish control. Digital manipulation allowed for precision, but it also created a sense of detachment from the experience itself. In-camera double exposure introduced uncertainty and required a more intuitive approach, making the process feel more immediate and personal. Decisions had to be made in real time, and I had to accept imperfections. That shift brought a sense of honesty and vulnerability that feels more aligned with where I am in my life now.

Double exposure often creates a sense of fragmentation and layering. What does this visual language allow you to express that a single image cannot?

Double exposure allows me to hold multiple emotional states within a single frame. It creates space for presence and memory, self and reflection, past and present to exist simultaneously. A single image often fixates on a singular moment, while layering disrupts that sense of stability. It reflects how we actually experience identity—not as something fixed, but as something overlapping, fluid, and at times contradictory.

Daniella Fishburne | Echoes of Her | 2026

Charleston appears as a recurring presence in your work. How does the city function conceptually within the series—as memory, origin, or something else?

Charleston is almost like a quiet witness within the series, existing as both a physical environment and an emotional landscape shaped by memory and history. It carries a sense of origin, especially in relation to my daughter, as it is where she was born and where much of her childhood will unfold. The places we grow up often shape who we become, and I wanted to acknowledge that influence as part of her identity. In this way, the city becomes a container for these layered experiences, grounding the work’s exploration of identity in something tangible.

Daniella Fishburne | Echoes of Her | 2026

Your images often feel quiet and contemplative. What role does silence or stillness play in your storytelling?

Silence is essential. It creates space for ambiguity and introspection, allowing the viewer to enter the image rather than be directed by it. Stillness, in particular, holds tension—it suggests that something has happened or is about to happen, without explicitly revealing it. I’m interested in those in-between moments where meaning isn’t fixed but felt.

Daniella Fishburne | Echoes of Her | 2026

How do you approach directing or interacting with your daughter during shoots, and how much of the process is spontaneous versus intentional?

The process is a balance between structure and openness. I often begin with a loose idea or visual framework, but I leave space for spontaneity. Working with my daughter requires sensitivity—there’s a trust and emotional awareness that guides the interaction. Some of the most meaningful moments emerge unexpectedly, so I try not to over-direct. It’s less about controlling the image and more about creating conditions where something authentic can surface.