A photo portrait from a family trip through Romania and Bulgaria. Each country was distinctly different from the other due to different influences in their histories and modern-day trajectories. In Romania, we largely spent our time in the gorgeous Transylvania region with its Saxon-influenced architecture, folklore (you might be familiar with Dracula), and the mountainous countryside that linked our journey from town to town. In Bulgaria, we journeyed cross-country to visit more diverse parts of the country, including the mind-boggling rock formations of Belogradchick, the Medieval city of Veliko Tarnovo, the seaside resort town of Sozopol and the Madara national historical-archeological reserve.
Here in our mountain landscapes, there exist individuals whose passion is as big as the peaks that cradle them. These intrepid souls are artisans of altitude; their canvas is the very terrain that challenges them. Here are just a few of my favourite images from over the years.
I’ve been photographing ice since the very early stages of my career. Whether glaciers, ice caves, frozen lakes, or mountaintops, I would continuously find myself drawn to cold landscapes in search of ice in its many forms, textures, and hues. Icescapes are among the most dynamic, visually exciting, and rewarding places a photographer can document. But as I spent more time shooting ice, it became apparent that I was capturing something that is vanishing.
Rust-red roofs and sand-coloured buildings set again the azure blue of the Adriatic Seas. Quaint and historic towns that feel like a storybook in real life. Wild skies and crashing waves that keep a photographer on his toes. This, in a nutshell, was our family trip through the Western Balkans.
On a mission to document vanishing ice across the globe, I found myself in Ecuador back in February — a South American nation named for its position on the Equator. You may wonder why I’m chasing ice on the Equator, but Ecuador is home to Andean peaks towering up to 6,310 metres. It turns out that the country’s stratovolcanoes are home to a number of receding glaciers.
I took this black-and-white on a shooting marathon at Mount Assiniboine a few years ago. I only had two nights in the area and the conditions were so good I went without sleep to make the most of the opportunity. I went everything over those 48 hours: in thunderstorms, fresh snow, aurora borealis, inversions, fogbows, you name it. And it was late September, that time of year when the larches are glowing gold – arguably the best time of year for photography in Mount Assiniboine Provincial Park.
