Gallery
Morning silence under concrete bridges Steel frame, fine wine, slow pace. Ten thousand miles etched in steel. Urban geometry. Lost in the shadows. Chasing light through empty alleys. Two wheels, parked thoughts, nowhere to rush.
Documentary (12)
Longer stories followed over days or seasons: markets, workshops, the people who keep a place running.
The Bikes That Stayed
The bicycles have leaned on the same wall for years, the owner of the cafe told me, and nobody remembers who rode them there. Chipped paint, tangled locks and the first light on the street turn an ordinary corner into…
A Street That Stays Quiet
Layered posters, a shopfront and a narrow street holding onto the stillness of a Sunday morning. I went back over three seasons to see what changes on a street where nothing seems to; the answer is the paper, which is…
Saturday in Slow Motion
We planned an hour and stayed until the light moved off the bay windows. The armchair belongs to her grandfather and has not been moved since the seventies, which is the only reason the room still looks like this. The…
Off the Ground
One dancer, one teal wall and a camera kept level with the floor for an afternoon of jumps. The photographs follow the rhythm between attempts, catching the coiled pause, the kick and the landing that never looks the same twice.
Held in the Air
An acrobat, a rope and the half second at the top of the swing when nothing moves. The company asked for the show; I asked for the rehearsal, where the light is worse and the concentration is better. Shot against…
The Leap
Every summer afternoon the same rock, the same queue of teenagers and the same second of silence before the splash. I stood on the opposite ledge for an hour to get one figure alone against the water. The frame works…
Tools of the Trade
Before the shutters rise and the pavements fill, the city belongs to the people who prepare it for everyone else. This study follows that short interval: hands lifting, stacking and repeating the same precise gestures while the first hard light…
The Book, Half Open
A publisher wanted the paper, not the cover. So we photographed the edge of the book, fanned open on the windowsill, until the pages looked like the thing they are made of. Macro lens, north light and a stack of…
Stay in the frame
New work, field notes and the occasional dispatch from wherever the light is good.