Stairwells, facades and the geometry cities leave behind when nobody is looking.
A city after dusk, photographed beneath towers and one orange sculpture that lights the whole street. The evening unfolds through passing cars, lit windows and quiet exchanges at the edge of the square, where the smallest moments hold. I photograph…
An hour after dawn the old city belongs to the pigeons and the bread sellers. From the roof the domes stack up in stages, and the haze takes the far ones first. Everything here is the same colour until the…
Look up long enough in a financial district and the buildings start to lean towards each other. The picture is about that lean, and about the one slice of sky they leave. At street level the tower is a lobby…
A gateway in the old town, one arch and a ceiling carved by someone who knew nobody would look up. I photographed it from underneath with the lens pointed straight at the keystone. The picture is the coffers. Everything else…
A museum at dusk, its ribbed facade lit from inside and one person crossing the corner. The building was designed to be photographed at this hour; I only had to turn up. Every facade has one corner where the lines…
New work, field notes and the occasional dispatch from wherever the light is good.