bittersweet symphony
Although technique itself is not the central focus, it undeniably influences how the final result is perceived. Technique determines not only the character of the image —the grain structure, the contrast, the nuances of film or sensor— but also the way of working, the manner in which you approach the world, and how it shapes your interaction with the subject.
In portrait photography, that influence is perhaps most tangible. The choice of camera is not neutral; it colors the relationship with the person you are photographing. With a 35mm camera, the face is hidden behind the camera, the eye looks through the viewfinder —direct contact is interrupted. A 6x6 camera changes that: you look down at the ground glass, your gaze gliding across the image field.
In my most recent portraitseries, this physical and mental distance is further explored. By working with a technical camera (4x5") linked to an iPad, a new form of presence emerges. I no longer need to stand behind the camera, but can sit next to the model. The image appears on the screen, the camera disappears as an obstacle between photographer and subject. Eye contact becomes possible, and communication becomes more direct.
personal
For me, this is essential. Portrait photography is an encounter, a shared moment, a glance, a vulnerability. The conversations beforehand, the time spent together during the shoot, the shared space: they are an integral part of the final result. The atmosphere of the moment determines not only the image, but also the choices made during the selection process and the final form.
conceptual
Conceptually, this series consists of a collection of black-and-white portraits, in which each subject is portrayed in the same manner: the same lighting, background, and a neutral expression. From a distance, the images appear almost anonymous. But upon closer inspection, the opposite becomes clear: unique faces, subtle differences, traces of life. By bringing young and old together and opting for a classic technique, I aim to evoke a sense of timelessness—and a subtle connection between the subjects.
(The use of a technical camera reinforces this: the intensive process slows things down, creating space for reflection—for me as the creator, but also for the person standing in front of the camera.)
The series reflects on how society groups people by age and how the individual sometimes disappears from view within that framework—especially as people grow older.
melancholy
A word associated with this series is melancholy. Not in the sense of gloom, but as an acknowledgment of the human condition—the awareness of transience, of unfulfilled longing, of time slipping away. A gentle wistfulness lies within the silence of the images. The melancholy lies not in loss, but in the attention paid to what once was, and perhaps never quite was.