As a graphic designer, I’m drawn to bold colours and shapes. Formalism I is the result of three years walking the streets and searching for beauty in places that most people pass by. I tend to take a record shot when I spot something interesting, and then return repeatedly until I get what I need. Form is the main theme for this series, but colour is really important too. Most of the pictures were taken in Argentina, except one that was made in Uruguay.

As a graphic designer, I’m drawn to bold colours and shapes. Formalism I is the result of three years walking the streets and searching for beauty in places that most people pass by. I tend to take a record shot when I spot something interesting, and then return repeatedly until I get what I need. Form is the main theme for this series, but colour is really important too. Most of the pictures were taken in Argentina, except one that was made in Uruguay.

For me, minimalism is a way of enabling clarity. I approach modern architecture in a way that eliminates distraction, keeping the viewer focused on the purest elements of photography: form, light, texture and the way that these components amalgamate. This body of work required rigid consistency in order to document the structural forms of each building and demonstrate the different and unique way in which light interacts with each structure.

For me, minimalism is a way of enabling clarity. I approach modern architecture in a way that eliminates distraction, keeping the viewer focused on the purest elements of photography: form, light, texture and the way that these components amalgamate. This body of work required rigid consistency in order to document the structural forms of each building and demonstrate the different and unique way in which light interacts with each structure.

Winters in Manitoba, Canada, are long and often bitterly cold. When the temperature drops, and thick ice forms, lakes and rivers in the province play host to some amazing folk architecture in the form of ice fishing huts. These huts, shacks or permies (as they are called in Manitoba) must be transportable, protect their occupants from the elements and allow access to the ice below for fishing. Once these requirements have been met, the owners are free to express their personalities in the shape, structure and decoration of their huts - they are large or small, decorated or plain, luxurious or utilitarian and everything in between. I captured these images on Lake Winnipeg in December 2019. My hope for this series, which is a continuation of work I started in 2018, is to showcase the quirky charm of these huts by presenting a select few in a typology. The typology - showing the huts framed in the same, minimalist style and in the same lighting - allows the viewer to notice similarities in function and uniqueness in form, as well as to display these utilitarian structures as beautiful works of art.

Winters in Manitoba, Canada, are long and often bitterly cold. When the temperature drops, and thick ice forms, lakes and rivers in the province play host to some amazing folk architecture in the form of ice fishing huts. These huts, shacks or permies (as they are called in Manitoba) must be transportable, protect their occupants from the elements and allow access to the ice below for fishing. Once these requirements have been met, the owners are free to express their personalities in the shape, structure and decoration of their huts - they are large or small, decorated or plain, luxurious or utilitarian and everything in between. I captured these images on Lake Winnipeg in December 2019. My hope for this series, which is a continuation of work I started in 2018, is to showcase the quirky charm of these huts by presenting a select few in a typology. The typology - showing the huts framed in the same, minimalist style and in the same lighting - allows the viewer to notice similarities in function and uniqueness in form, as well as to display these utilitarian structures as beautiful works of art.

By 2050 our planet will be home to as many as ten billion people. If increases in agricultural yield are not achieved, a billion or more people could face starvation. Today, however, technology proposes a solution. For centuries, greenhouses have been used to shield crops and maximise yield, but in recent years technological advances have led to a revolution in food production. This series portrays some of the most promising hightech agro farming systems in the world - systems that may allow us to reduce dependency on water by as much as 90% and, in some cases, almost completely eliminate the use of chemical pesticides on plants in greenhouses. It’s a possible solution to the hunger crisis that may emerge in future decades, but a dystopic view of the future of farming.

By 2050 our planet will be home to as many as ten billion people. If increases in agricultural yield are not achieved, a billion or more people could face starvation. Today, however, technology proposes a solution. For centuries, greenhouses have been used to shield crops and maximise yield, but in recent years technological advances have led to a revolution in food production. This series portrays some of the most promising hightech agro farming systems in the world - systems that may allow us to reduce dependency on water by as much as 90% and, in some cases, almost completely eliminate the use of chemical pesticides on plants in greenhouses. It’s a possible solution to the hunger crisis that may emerge in future decades, but a dystopic view of the future of farming.

“Can a man sell a piece of his motherland? Can a man sell a piece of his body? Even for the highest price? No, he cannot! Or he will cease to be a human being.” Yuri Rytkheu
The Chukchi have lived along the Bering coasts for thousands of years. Their traditional lifestyle has evolved according to their mode of subsistence, showing how inhabitant and habitat are not two different entities, but in fact different sides of the same entity. This series explores the concept of natural symmetry, and reflects on the human ability to create fictions, and how these fictions (or myths) explain and modify the objective world in sophisticated ways. It also raises questions about the Anthropocene era and how humans relate to themselves and other species.

“Can a man sell a piece of his motherland? Can a man sell a piece of his body? Even for the highest price? No, he cannot! Or he will cease to be a human being.” Yuri Rytkheu
The Chukchi have lived along the Bering coasts for thousands of years. Their traditional lifestyle has evolved according to their mode of subsistence, showing how inhabitant and habitat are not two different entities, but in fact different sides of the same entity. This series explores the concept of natural symmetry, and reflects on the human ability to create fictions, and how these fictions (or myths) explain and modify the objective world in sophisticated ways. It also raises questions about the Anthropocene era and how humans relate to themselves and other species.

Covering 70,000 sq km (27,000 sq miles) of wetlands, the Niger Delta was formed primarily by sediment deposition. The region is home to more than 30 million people and 40 different ethnic groups, making up 7.5% of Nigeria’s total land mass. It used to boast an incredibly rich ecosystem, containing one of the highest concentrations of biodiversity on the planet, before the oil industry moved in. The Nigerian department of petroleum resources estimates that 1.89 million barrels were spilled in to the Niger Delta between 1976 and 1996. What’s more, a report from the United Nations suggests there have been a total of 6,817 spills between 1976 and 2001, amounting to some three million barrels of oil. So far, the authorities and oil companies have done little to clean up and neutralise the Delta, and oil spills are still very common. Half of the spills are caused by pipeline and tanker accidents, while others are the result of sabotage (28%), oil production operations (21%), and inadequate production equipment (1%). Another issue in the Niger Delta is gas flaring, a byproduct of oil extraction. As the gas burns it destroys crops, pollutes water and has a negative impact on human health. Wahala was shot in Nigeria in 2019 and draws attention to untamed economic growth and its negative impact on ecology.

Covering 70,000 sq km (27,000 sq miles) of wetlands, the Niger Delta was formed primarily by sediment deposition. The region is home to more than 30 million people and 40 different ethnic groups, making up 7.5% of Nigeria’s total land mass. It used to boast an incredibly rich ecosystem, containing one of the highest concentrations of biodiversity on the planet, before the oil industry moved in. The Nigerian department of petroleum resources estimates that 1.89 million barrels were spilled in to the Niger Delta between 1976 and 1996. What’s more, a report from the United Nations suggests there have been a total of 6,817 spills between 1976 and 2001, amounting to some three million barrels of oil. So far, the authorities and oil companies have done little to clean up and neutralise the Delta, and oil spills are still very common. Half of the spills are caused by pipeline and tanker accidents, while others are the result of sabotage (28%), oil production operations (21%), and inadequate production equipment (1%). Another issue in the Niger Delta is gas flaring, a byproduct of oil extraction. As the gas burns it destroys crops, pollutes water and has a negative impact on human health. Wahala was shot in Nigeria in 2019 and draws attention to untamed economic growth and its negative impact on ecology.

This series is about Japanese internment camps that were built in remote and harsh areas of the United States during the Second World War. These camps imprisoned 120,000 people of Japanese ancestry - more than 60% of them were U.S. citizens. Working on the project reminded me of the racial antagonism we have witnessed in recent history, and led me to consider how radically our
view can alter when war and terror affect our lives. History can always be repeated if not properly recalled or told. The pictures here were taken between 2018 and ‘19 in California, Arizona and Utah. For the aerial shots, I used a drone to capture the camp sites - these locations are so harsh and remote that no one would try building anything here.

This series is about Japanese internment camps that were built in remote and harsh areas of the United States during the Second World War. These camps imprisoned 120,000 people of Japanese ancestry - more than 60% of them were U.S. citizens. Working on the project reminded me of the racial antagonism we have witnessed in recent history, and led me to consider how radically our
view can alter when war and terror affect our lives. History can always be repeated if not properly recalled or told. The pictures here were taken between 2018 and ‘19 in California, Arizona and Utah. For the aerial shots, I used a drone to capture the camp sites - these locations are so harsh and remote that no one would try building anything here.

Lop Nor is a former salt lake, now largely dried-up, located in Xinjiang province in northwest China. This barren area was used intermittently as a nuclear weapons testing site from 1964 to 1996, with as many as 45 tests carried out underground and in the atmosphere. The first Chinese nuclear bomb test, codenamed Project 596, was conducted here in October 1964. As a result of these activities, the region is still heavily contaminated. With Project 596 (Chinese Nuclear Landscape) I wanted to show the invisible danger in this desolate area. Using a Geiger counter I measured the presence of radiation in becquerels (Bq). The title of each image is the level of soil contamination I recorded, expressed in Bq. Using digital techniques, I superimposed image fragments, suggesting atoms altering and a general feeling of impermanence. These broken perspectives show the landscape twisting and changing, leading to a sort of vertigo or malaise. The work hints at the danger hidden behind the landscapes.

Lop Nor is a former salt lake, now largely dried-up, located in Xinjiang province in northwest China. This barren area was used intermittently as a nuclear weapons testing site from 1964 to 1996, with as many as 45 tests carried out underground and in the atmosphere. The first Chinese nuclear bomb test, codenamed Project 596, was conducted here in October 1964. As a result of these activities, the region is still heavily contaminated. With Project 596 (Chinese Nuclear Landscape) I wanted to show the invisible danger in this desolate area. Using a Geiger counter I measured the presence of radiation in becquerels (Bq). The title of each image is the level of soil contamination I recorded, expressed in Bq. Using digital techniques, I superimposed image fragments, suggesting atoms altering and a general feeling of impermanence. These broken perspectives show the landscape twisting and changing, leading to a sort of vertigo or malaise. The work hints at the danger hidden behind the landscapes.

Evidence of Shintoism and Buddhism - the most common religions in Japan - can be found in every corner of the country. Shrines and torii (traditional Japanese gates commonly found at the entrance to Shinto shrines, marking the transition from mundane to sacred spaces) can be seen in the remotest of locations, from the middle of the Pacific Ocean to the highest mountains and the deepest forests. Most of the time I use neutral density filters to force long exposures and keep my work minimalist in style. Some of my exposures last five minutes or more, which makes any distracting elements in the water or sky disappear - the longer the exposure, the clearer the photograph.

Evidence of Shintoism and Buddhism - the most common religions in Japan - can be found in every corner of the country. Shrines and torii (traditional Japanese gates commonly found at the entrance to Shinto shrines, marking the transition from mundane to sacred spaces) can be seen in the remotest of locations, from the middle of the Pacific Ocean to the highest mountains and the deepest forests. Most of the time I use neutral density filters to force long exposures and keep my work minimalist in style. Some of my exposures last five minutes or more, which makes any distracting elements in the water or sky disappear - the longer the exposure, the clearer the photograph.