In 2010, contemporary artist Maurizio Cattelan and photographer Pierpaolo Ferrari founded Toiletpaper, a magazine made up of nothing but sparely and sophisticatedly staged photographs. Describing the publication as ‘a salacious six-monthly meeting’, Cattelan and Ferrari seem to critique a society dominated by consumption and appearances with provocative pictures. Each of their painstakingly constructed images borrows from the tacky, the sublime, and the absurd to revisit the codes of fashion, advertising, and film.

‘We always start with a theme, something basic and general, like love or greed,’ explains Cattelan. ‘Then, as we start, we move like painters on canvas, layering and building. We always find ourselves in a place we didn’t expect to be. The best images are the result of improvisation. We keep homing in on what a Toiletpaper image is. Like distilling a perfume. It’s not about one particular style or time frame; what makes them Toiletpaper is a special twist. An uncanny ambiguity.’

As the worthy heirs of Hara Kiri, Cattelan and Ferrari break with normality and readily sow confusion, if not disgust. As disturbing as they are surprising, their images, featuring saturated, explosive colours that look almost too perfect, provoke fear and sow visual pleasure.