Actually, I deal in my pictures with everything man creates to put it between himself and nature, the built, the cultural products, with the visible and invisible walls that protect us from the outside and from ourselves.
During my residency in Iceland, I was drawn into a landscape so far from any culture or civilization that in every valley it feelt like looking into a prehistoric past, without the insignia of human habitation, such as fences or agriculture, always surrounded by the duality of a white sky and a black earth that seem to repel eachother. The dialogue of the elements is visible in Iceland, it is in the broadest sense a visual one, shown by the shapes in the landscape.
The wind moves the movable and grinds the immovable. Similar to a photograph, the basalt seems caught in a movement. Through the silent force of time, molten lava turned to stone and rigid rock began to flow through the eternal grind of the wind.
Besides the time and the wind, which I encountered everywhere, it is the black which does not let go. A black as sand, as a rock formation or a kind of granule that swallows all brightness and yet reveals itself through a small shimmer, a few light reflections on its surface in shape and texture.