Szymon Stępniak, WHOLE (2025)29 Images
For one weekend in July, London felt a little emptier, most club toilet queues a little shorter, and Instagram Stories (and meme pages) a lot fuller – as many of the city’s queer population descended on Berlin, for the seventh edition of WHOLE Festival.
Outside of the usual club circuit, WHOLE is set against the post-industrial playground of Ferropolis – a hulking former coal mine turned rave site. Next to a river and flanked by towering rusted cranes, the location feels like something between a sci-fi ruin and a queer summer camp. Stages rise out of gravel, there’s a beach for swimming, and forests for mellowing out or cruising. For photographer Szymon Stępniak, WHOLE is a standout festival “It was honestly life-changing,” he says of his first time at the event back in 2022. “Meeting queers from all over, feeling part of a community, feeling free.” He returned the following year with his camera, and again this year, documenting the festival’s chaos for Dazed.
With a line-up including BADSISTA, Ahadadream and Blasha & Allatt, this year’s festival-goers stomped through marshy terrain between five distinct stages. From the high-energy Arena to the sun-drenched Beach, bass-heavy Crane, hypnotic Forest and dreamy Ambient stage – each offered its own vibe within Ferropolis’s industrial sprawl. Stępniak’s shots capture this range, with some by neon-lit fog and towering steel structures, others shadowy shots under canopies.
Stępniak made sure not to remain on the sidelines of the crowds. “I don’t place myself as an observer,” he says. “I’m part of it.” That means dancing with his camera, pushing through tangled limbs, and capturing intimate moments as they happen around him. “WHOLE is wild and euphoric, but it’s also incredibly tender. You’ll see friends hugging during ambient sets just steps from someone going feral to hardcore techno.” His images reflect that range – with shots of blurry, sweaty figures in various states of release. “Lately, I’ve been embracing more blur and motion, trying to echo what it feels like to be on the dancefloor.”
He sees the camera as a bridge. “The camera motivated me to walk around and talk to people. It gave me a sense of mission and purpose at the festival. Plus, it’s always a great excuse to start conversations.” This positioning allows documentation to occur without breaking the connection the space endeavours to create. In this way, his photos feel like a continuation of the event rather than a record of it.“ For me, film often serves as a reference for colour grading or the overall vibe… shooting on film gives me a different lens and angle on the whole experience… It feels less performative… more personal and reflective,” he adds. “I enjoy developing films even months later to keep the festival alive throughout the year. I really like that nostalgic analogue vibe; it makes the documentary feel more timeless, and the imperfections make it feel more honest.”
WHOLE offers a respite from the current backsliding of queer rights in many countries and ongoing geopolitical instability. But like any queer space, WHOLE is still a work in progress – especially when it comes to making space for the full spectrum of identities and experiences. “Friday was amazing,” Stępniak says, “but I noticed the crowd shifted as the weekend went on – it seemed like more people arrived later. There were moments I didn’t feel great, like when I got pushed out or couldn’t connect with people on a different wavelength.” WHOLE isn’t a utopia yet – but it gestures towards creating one. This year, there were sober spaces, an inclusive FLINTA-focused cruising area, and a full-schedule of workshops, including ones in consent and intimacy that continue to push clubbing spaces in the right direction.
What also sets WHOLE apart is its near-absence of commercial branding – which keeps the community-driven event true to its origins. As Stępniak puts it, “Everything at WHOLE feels organic, from the ambient chill-out spaces by the lakeside to the presence of the awareness team offering support. Most importantly, there’s no shame at WHOLE – just freedom, presence, and a real sense of being part of something collectively meaningful.” While Stępniak doesn’t like to intellectualise his work “I leave it for the viewer to see these scenes as vibrant and complex, not just one-dimensional myths,” he says, his images reflect the messy reality of WHOLE, resisting tidy narratives of queer liberation. “Everything happens almost nonstop for three days straight. It’s an intense and layered experience – not just a party, but something much deeper.”
