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Rebekah Campbell is a New York–based photographer, who captures the raw femininity that exists at the brink of adulthood, often featuring the band of downtown creatives she has met along the way. Last summer, the rising talent traveled along the French-Italian border and turned her lens on those very friends. What follows is an idyllic retelling of her time on the Riviera—a perfect portrait of paradise to usher in these early days of spring.
“These photos were taken in August of last summer on a trip to the south of France, between Nice and Menton, 10 minutes from the border of Italy. Saint-Jean Cap-Ferrat, Roquebrune-Cap-Martin, Ventimiglia, Cap-d’Ail, Èze, Villefranche-sur-Mer, Mala.
This was my first long, involved vacation as an adult, and I had reached the idea to travel there because a few friends were going already. Chloe Wise was doing an artist residency, so a couple of us found an Airbnb in the mountains not far from her. It was secluded and an old Italian home, you know the kind that can never be clean but you can feel the family that lived there 20 years before you. There were five of us traveling together, a few popping in and out over the course of two weeks. It was myself, Sasha Melnychuk, Thistle Brown, Katerina Tannenbaum, and Valter Törsleff. Friends who were already there included Chloe and Allegria Torassa.
We rented a car and drove to a new area every day, looking for swimming spots, restaurants with cheap but delicious wine, fresh food markets with the most amazing cheeses and pasta, fruit you’ve never tasted. We lounged by the water and read books, ate figs and bread on the beach. Looking for parking in Italy for 2 hours sweating like I never have before. We perused some museums, did a lot of blind contour drawings on the rocky beaches. We went to a huge open market in Italy and found 3-euro bikinis that we wore the entire trip. I still have mine.
In Nice, the streets in the old village are tiny, only fit for bodies and bicycles. Markets in Italy are for peaches and cheese, baguettes galore. Aperol Spritzes were the most enjoyable looking out at the cerulean blue water and the old couples spending 8 hours on the beach. Driving on the tiniest roads you have ever seen and the curviest Riviera rocky excursions, I thought I might get into an accident most of the time. Skinny dipping in Castillon, I saw the biggest shooting star, it lasted six seconds. To recommend going to this part of Europe would be an understatement—we had an effervescent two weeks with circles left embedded in our skin from the rocky beaches.”
