Short pieces on the craft: what I see happening where camera and machine meet. Pieces appear here first or land here after LinkedIn; the archive stays.
For (t)HERE I printed Zondagsrust as a newspaper,paper that creases, yellows, gets thrown away. An image made by a machine, handed back to the most disposable medium we have.
The Toeven landscapes were made with AI and printed on Japanese paper. Working in a tradition of leaving out, selection becomes more important than generation.
Matsu and Taipei, 2023. A week of nightly walks in a period when sleep wouldn't come,photographs I left untouched for years.
Twenty years of cinematography, ten years of photography, one year of AI. (t)HERE, my first solo exhibition, holds all three.
Ilya can't move out; Margot can't move on. I filmed them one on one, as a one-person crew,sometimes solo by design works best.
An appraiser's treasure hunt, a yoga school's calm. However different the energy, the job is the same: making sure everyone is at ease.
For Ester Gould's Tortelduifjes I followed Dennis, a pet-shop owner falling in love. The stories closest to home are the dearest to me.
The year I discovered generative AI also taught me to value ordinary looking more. Imagination doesn't live in the tool; it lives in the gaze.
On the front page of de Volkskrant: the fear that AI replaces artists, and the case for the radical liberation of the imagination.
With the series rebroadcast, I returned to photograph its protagonists a decade later. The trust we built ten years ago was instantly there again.
Talking fish, a woman whose hair is on fire, a palace inside a melon. Shaping the imaginative layer of Mohammed & Paul with camera and AI.
Before anyone clicks on a moving image, a still has to catch the eye. On my debut purely as a set photographer.
A hired metro station, a real metro full of passengers, and a rapper with endless patience. The photography for Orelsan's six-times-gold album.