Why black and white photography?

I approach photography much like design: through precision, patience, and the belief that meaning is built, not found. Each project starts as a structure of drawings, materials, calculations, but eventually, something slips through the technical frame. That unplanned moment is what I keep.

My fine art practice exists somewhere between control and surrender.

Black and white removes distraction; it exposes truth. Without colour, a face becomes architecture. A gesture becomes a blueprint for emotion.

My recent series, S•he, began as a question:

What would history look like if women had been the ones to define discovery, invention, and light?

Three archetypes - The Explorer, The Catalyst, The Luminarie - emerged from that thought. Each portrait is an imagined echo of someone who might have existed. A role model of some sort. Each print carries materials that belong to their story: lapis lazuli, graphite, copper.

Behind the camera, the process is as physical as it is contemplative.

We build sets by hand. The prints are made through historical methods - platinum, palladium, Japanese paper. Nothing exists only in pixels.

I believe art doesn’t depend on the medium.

Whether it’s graphite or light, a yacht interior or a platinum print - the question is the same: does it feel alive when you look at it?

Backstage of project S•he