Passage
Passage is a collection of photographs made during the fleeting minutes around sunrise and sunset in the American West. Each image captures the brief interval when the land is lit not by direct sunlight, but by its last, scattered traces. In this soft illumination, forms lose their sharpness, colors deepen, and the boundary between night and day grows thin. The work reflects a fascination with these fragile, temporary moments, when time seems to slow, allowing a brief glimpse of beauty before it slips away.
Pale Basin
Here, erosion is not destruction, but creation. The slow architecture of collapse. Gleaming white stone pillars and mounds rise from the earth, shaped over eons by wind, sun, and rain. The land is pale, indifferent, and unfamiliar—an environment in constant flux, slowly shifting and sculpting itself over time. No maps exist of this place; humans have played no role in its creation. It is a landscape shaped only by the relentless forces of nature, changing itself without witness or design.
Drift
Gleaming, omnipresent light overwhelms perception, dissolving depth and cloaking vision. The rolling mounds of white gypsum, remnants of an ancient sea, absorb and scatter the sun’s intensity, transforming the desert floor into a vast and ever-shifting mirror. Over the course of a day, the dunes modulate in tone and atmosphere, moving from crisp whites to pale yellows, deepening into searing reds and oranges, before softening again into delicate blues and purples. These photographs embrace that transience, distilling the land into elemental forms of line, shadow, and color.
Sanctum
Deep within a remote canyon known mostly to the Navajo people of the western United States, a hidden architecture rises. Light moves slowly through the valley, revealing sculpted spires and stratified walls, carved by millions of years of wind, rain, and decay. This is not public land. It is a sacred place, held by the sovereignty of the tribe, and photographed with their permission.
Apollo
In the high desert of Utah, beneath a sun-drenched sky, the ground and geology breaks, folds, and erodes; creating new shapes, patterns and forms, seemingly by design. The land resembles a moonscape, stark and indifferent, removed from the modern world. Here, it is easy to imagine orbiting, descending, and stepping onto the surface of another planet.
Currents
In Iceland’s coastal estuaries, glacial rivers meet the sea, carrying minerals, silt, and light across wide tidal flats and shifting sandbars. Where fresh water blends with salt, overlapping patterns of color emerge, visible most clearly from above.
Keeler
Once a settlement on the shores of a living lake, Keeler is now a dry and empty basin. Weathered homes, scattered possessions, and traces of lives long departed remain. Here, human ambition, capitalism, and the forces of nature meet in uneasy balance. These photographs document what is left of the town after its unintended environmental and economic collapse, following the construction of the Los Angeles aqueduct.
Highlands
In summer, snow and ice recede from Iceland’s mountainous interior, revealing vast fields of volcanic ash, basalt mountains, soft green moss, and estuaries of melted glacial water flowing towards the open sea. Sunlight is ever-present, dimming only for a couple of hours around midnight. The images in this series were captured on the ground and high above in the air.