Peter van der Wal, aka The Sinful Son, is a self-taught, Amsterdam-based photographer who has made the LGBTQ+ club scene his studio.

With a vintage Polaroid Big Shot camera in one hand and increasingly scarce peel apart film in the other, Peter has spent the last five years moving through clubs, parties and festivals in Amsterdam, Berlin, London and beyond.

His subjects are drag artists, DJs, club kids, lovers and strangers, framed in fleeting moments of raw, unguarded intimacy that crackle with the electricity of the dance floor. Each Polaroid celebrates chosen family, self-expression and freedom, offering a heartfelt love letter to queer nightlife and the people who bring it to life.

Those chance encounters under the glow of disco lights have come to form the heart of Beautiful Creatures, a new photobook featuring more than 350 Polaroids taken between 2020 and 2025. Released by nai010 and available for purchase via its website, Beautiful Creatures will launch alongside an exhibition at Melkweg Expo, on view from 8 July until 20 September as part of Club Chrome, Melkweg’s multidisciplinary festival for WorldPride 2026.

Published at a time when queer communities face renewed attacks on their visibility and rights, Beautiful Creatures offers more than images of moments bound to fade by sunrise. It stands as a present-tense record of LGBTQ+ identity, community and belonging, pushing back against erasure and, in line with a long tradition of nightlife photography as self-archiving outside the mainstream, unapologetically affirming queer presence as rooted in both history and the present.

Ahead of the launch of Beautiful Creatures, we spoke with The Sinful Son about his journey into photography, the stories behind the Polaroids and why preserving these moments has never felt more important.

Hello Peter, thank you for taking the time to speak with me today. To start, can you tell us a bit about yourself and how your interest in photography first came about?

My name is Peter (he/him), and I am also known as The Sinful Son. I am a self-taught photographer based in Amsterdam. I live there with my husband Roy and our dog Louie Louie.

My love for photography started at a young age, but it was only after leaving my religious upbringing and discovering the queer community that photography became a serious part of my life. That break with my past came at a cost. In my search for an authentic life, I lost contact with my family. The name The Sinful Son refers to how I was seen within that environment: as the son who deviated from the norms and expectations that surrounded him. First I used the name the Madhatter, because I was quite often wearing a top hat, but when I stopped doing that, I found this name more suitable.

When you first picked up the camera, was there anyone you were looking to for inspiration?

Yeah, this might be a slightly different story. Growing up in such an isolated environment, without television, radio, pop music, or stories about Studio 54 in New York or club Roxy in Amsterdam. I had no idea who Anton Corbijn, Annie Leibovitz or Andy Warhol were.

It was only later, after I moved out and began experiencing the “real world” — or, as my family might have called it, “the gates of hell.” That was when I discovered their work. I wouldn’t say I’m devoted to one particular photographer or artist. But I deeply admire photographers like Anton Corbijn, Nobuyoshi Araki, Martin Parr and the early work of Erwin Olaf. And of course, I love Andy Warhol’s Polaroids. I also love the work of my friend Maxime Duvall; her portraits are stunning.

I’d like to ask you about Beautiful Creatures, this really raw snapshot of queer nightlife. How did the idea come about?

I’ve been living in Amsterdam for about eight years now. Before that, I lived in The Hague and would occasionally travel to parties and festivals in Amsterdam, immersing myself in the nightlife. I always brought my camera with me and sometimes got backstage access to photograph performers on stage.

I’ve always been fascinated by nightlife. The connections you make there. The recognition in the queer community. The power of performers. The mystery of waiting in line outside a club. The intimidation of the door host. When I moved to Amsterdam, I found more connections and friendships. At some point, I was welcome at queer parties and festivals to take photographs. Beautiful Creatures is a tribute to queer nightlife. A love letter to freedom, hedonism, diversity, chosen families and the right to be seen, told through more than 350 Polaroids, intimate stories and lived experiences

I began searching for something different from my digital photography, something beyond 35mm or Polaroid 600. Online, I discovered the Polaroid Big Shot camera, and suddenly a whole new world opened up to me. The first portraits I made with it were during the Covid period, around the time that clubs reopened. I fell in love with everything about the peel-apart film, the colours, the format, the ritual of unpacking the polaroid. But most importantly, I loved how drag queens, club kids and DJs — all those wonderful people — became the absolute centre of the image. I wanted to give them an extra stage, in a world that is becoming increasingly difficult for us as a queer community.

The project went through several working titles, but because I kept referring to everyone on social media as “beautiful creatures” in my captions, and thanks to some encouragement from my dear friends, the project eventually became Beautiful Creatures.

How did it feel approaching people on the dance floor? How natural was it for you to connect and bring them into the frame?

My work comes from within the scene itself. When I go to a party to take pictures, I’m also dancing and enjoying the night like everyone else. I’m there with friends or with Roy — my boyfriend. Actually, my husband! The thing is, I genuinely love people. I love connecting with them, and I think I’m quite good at sensing whether someone wants to be approached for a photograph or not. So for me, it feels very natural to approach people.

While dancing or smoking my cigarette (don’t smoke people!), I’m constantly scanning the room (not in a creepy way), noticing what people are wearing, how they move, the energy they carry. Sometimes I’ll leave a night with dozens of Polaroids, and other nights with none at all. It also depends on my mood. Yeah, I can be a moody person.

Through working on the book, you’ve moved between scenes in cities like Amsterdam, Berlin and London. Did any differences between them stand out to you?

Beautiful Creatures shows the queer community from many different angles and across different cities. But maybe I don’t want to focus too much on the differences. Lewis G. Burton writes beautifully about this in their essay for my book: the aesthetics may shift, but the pulse remains the same. The same urgency. The same need to gather, to express, to resist.

That said, I do love how expressive, for example, the Inferno crowd in London is. Sometimes I do miss that openness, expressiveness, that clubkid vibe in Amsterdam. Yes, sometimes, I wish I was living in the time of Studio 54. Here in Amsterdam, things or parties can sometimes feel a little more polished, a dime a dozen. Berlin and London often feel rawer to me, with a stronger sense of experimentation and self-expression. There’s a different energy in the way people dress, perform and inhabit those spaces.

Were there any standout moments from the time you were shooting? Any stories that really stuck with you?

Every time I photograph someone, there’s a small moment shared between us. Sometimes it lasts only two minutes, and other times I’ll spend half an hour backstage with a Beautiful Creature. Sometimes we laugh because the photo turns out terribly. Other times, people share deeply personal stories that genuinely stay with me. I’m always struck by how often something beautiful is revealed in those encounters.

I still laugh thinking about the moment drag queen and clown Bianca Del Rio reacted to the flash of the camera by shouting across the room: “WHAT! That flash!” That was hilarious.

At Rara Avis, a party in Amsterdam organised by my dear friend Junior, I met a man who stood out to me because, amongst this crowd of queer people, he was there as an ally. He was completely immersed in the joy of the night while his wife and children were at home.

There are also several Beautiful Creatures I photographed who are no longer alive. Whenever I look at those Polaroids, it still brings tears to my eyes. Unfortunately, suicide or and selfharm among queer people and transgender persons are significantly higher than among the general population.

And yes, when I was in New York, I had the opportunity to photograph Amanda Lepore. I’m not usually someone who gets starstruck, but Amanda Lepore is an exception. And Pavarotti, but never had the chance to see him in real life.

I’d love to check in on the crowdfunding for Beautiful Creatures. How’s it been going so far?

Well babe, you’re too late for the crowdfunding, it was actually a huge success. In just four weeks, we received 330 donations, raising €23,000. On top of that, we also received a €10,000 contribution from a Dutch foundation.

Now we’re in the process of creating the book together with my publisher NAI010 and graphic design studio Raw Color. *Beautiful Creatures* launches in the first week of July.

And guess what? We’re also preparing an exhibition. We’re collaborating with Pride Amsterdam and World Pride Amsterdam and several other organisations interested in working together. So this summer won’t just be World Pride Amsterdam, you’ll also be seeing much more of Beautiful Creatures throughout the city!

To wrap things up, what does the future look like for you and your work?

I’m quite happy that I don’t fully know yet. I hope people will love the book. For people within the queer community, I hope the work, especially the series Beautiful Creatures, encourages us to look after one another more. To support one another rather than divide ourselves. To recognise that we are stronger together and that we need one another, especially in challenging political times.

For those outside the community or scene, I hope the work reveals our humanity, our beauty and our strength, the right to be seen. We are not going anywhere. We do not need permission to exist or to be accepted by you. Our place is here, alongside everyone else.

Right now, I want to focus on something completely different: analogue black-and-white photography with my large-format camera. I want to create beautiful, intimate portraits that are the complete opposite of the Beautiful Creatures series. Those peel-apart films for the Big Shot have become dangerously expensive. For years now, I’ve been secretly buying them so my husband doesn’t realise I’ve spent €150 or more on a single pack. And considering I never charged any of the parties I photographed over the past six years, maybe it’s finally time to save some money and focus on new work.

But most importantly, I feel incredibly blessed to have captured all these Beautiful Creatures over the years. I would simply like to take this opportunity to say: Thank you to everyone who allowed me into moments that were often fleeting, intense and full of movement, but that now exist forever through these images. Without your stories, vulnerability and energy, this book would never have existed.

Follow The Sinful Son on Instagram.

For more information about Beautiful People click here.

For more information about the book launch and exhibition at Melkweg Expo, Amsterdam, click here.

Interview Jacopo Nuvolari

Top image credit: Sasa Hara (Pornceptual, Amsterdam 2023) Photo courtesy of Peter van der Wal aka The Sinful Son