Iceland – 2022

I suspect that all those who have found themselves in Vestrahorn on the Stokksnes peninsula of south east Iceland experienced an initial sensory overload. I certainly did and having been spoilt by my experiences on this planet, it takes quite something to leave me speechless.

The mountain range rises almost vertically from the black beach below and falls away symmetrically on each side creating an astonishing vista. This in an arena where many an Icelandic saga has been played out in the minds of creatives.

The dome like sand dunes nestling below Vestrahorn have been owned by the same Icelandic farming family for several generations. Our production team – the excellent True North – had secured us access both to the land and their Icelandic horses who play out their lives in this most majestic of settings.

The goal was to shoot with snow on the ground and snow on the mountains as I knew this could offer a further sense of mythology. I am always greedy with my visuals and I wanted a sense of the cold.

But the day before the planned shoot, the temperature rose above freezing and my canvas on the ground melted quickly. We went to bed hoping for some luck and whilst it started to snow at dawn, my concern was then that the mountain would not be visible. As we rushed out to the predetermined location, the clouds started to lift and provided the farmer could work his magic with the horse we had identified as our star, there was a chance.

This photograph has a sense of place and that was always my goal in Iceland. My work must play homage to the majesty and rawness of the land. It is a place like no other.

Námafjall Geothermal Area, Iceland – 2022

Archival Pigment Print on 315gsm Hahnemühle Photo Rag Baryta Paper

“Developing a concept that ticks the boxes creatively and then executing that concept are emphatically two different jobs, which is why making a picture is a longer process than taking a picture.

Many years ago, the exceptional work of British photographer Tim Flach, drew my attention to the hot springs of Myvatn in the north of Iceland. This remote area is geologically angry and in deep winter it is fairly inhospitable, but in the summer, it becomes something of a tourist resort for the local Icelandics and all too crowded for how we operate. We would always choose inhospitable over crowded.

I have filmed here in the winter in the past, but struggled to do justice to the uniquely raw ecosystem. As always there is an element of knowing how to get it right by initially getting it hopelessly wrong. In particular, this is not a safe place without engaging locals, because the ground underneath, much like Yellowstone in Wyoming, is not to be taken for granted. To be brave and work close to the geysers needs permits and guides.

But in 2022, we finally had our rewards. The weather plays such a big role in the field; no more so than up here at 66 degrees north where the Norse Gods granted my wish for strong winds and good light. It was the wind that amplified the trail of steam and allowed me to work a comfortable distance from the source without losing the effect. It was then up to me to work the strong late afternoon light to the best of my advantage.

The end result is a strong image and certainly authentic. Its stripped back and visceral mood lives and breathes the wildest of Icelandic sagas. There are horse portraits and then there are horse portraits.”

Skógafoss is arguably the most aesthetically perfect waterfall in Europe. But its breadth and height needs some foreground context to lend perspective. We worked with wild Icelandic ponies to try and introduce this ingredient into a well-known amphitheatre of noise and power. It’s a very challenging brief and the window closes as soon as the first tourists arrive at 9 am. This image transcends all the others from the trip and offers a dreamlike portrayal of Iceland’s raw and wild beauty.

The Camargue, France – 2013

The wild horses of the Camargue have been well photographed and I am always conscious of taking hackneyed images. Once I had immersed myself in the character of the location, my instincts were to try and capture something that leant on the abstract and emphasised the herd, rather than working more conventionally with individual horses. In particular, I wanted to use the marsh water as an ethereal partner to the white horses and this required working against the light with a slow shutter speed (1/50 of a second). This is a low-percentage shot as the position of their heads can spoil or make an image and these horses are most unpredictable. On the second evening, after much trial and error, I think that we got there!

Skógafoss, Iceland – 2018

Iceland is so raw, so geologically angry and so unique that a visiting artist is truly tested to do it justice. On location, intense cognitive processing is required to examine how best to convey the enormity of the visuals that greet the eye throughout daylight hours. The shorter the distance between the brain and the eye, the greater the chance of working towards an image that is as awesome as the location. I think we may have finally achieved our goal. I am very happy with this image.

I have been fortunate enough to visit Skogafoss waterfall many times over the years and I am in no doubt that it offers the best opportunity for a creative narrative of any of Iceland’s numerous waterfalls. It may not be the widest, or most thunderous, but the immediate foreground is the most easily accessible. From the riverbed below, the visual is dramatic and clean. This is “Game of Thrones” country and from the right angle – and I have explored most of them over the years – it is perhaps the finest backdrop I know in Europe.

Prior to 2018, I have, for various reasons, never nailed the preconceived image. The main reason being that it is technically and logistically a challenging assignment and I have not been good enough. It is a real test of balancing working distance against lens choice and I have made a few errors in the past. The smaller the lens, the better. It is always the case even if the spray from the waterfall soaks both you and your gear.

An issue with filming in Iceland is that whilst permits are easy to obtain, exclusivity is not. Waterfalls such as Skogafoss will not normally be closed off to the public if filming is taking place. As a result, the only time to have exclusivity there is before the tourists arrive in their droves, which is normally from 8 am onwards. But in the early morning, the waterfall, which is tucked tightly into the cliffs, is always in shadow and often a good two stops of exposure darker than the open areas 200 yards away.

There are always compromises here. On this occasion, we were able to work longer into the morning as the high winds had prevented many tourists from taking days trips from Reykjavik. Nevertheless, it was still fairly dark, so I knew my depth of field would be marginal but as long as the subject matter is sharp, I think this actually helps the image. I don’t think I have ever taken a picture before in which the subject is less than 1% of the image and yet everyone’s eye is immediately grabbed by that one point. That was always my intention. I have had this image in my mind for a few years. I could just never get a beautiful horse in the right position at the right time. It is a beautiful horse – we chose well.