ANSEL


Expanses of clouds and fields of snow, wooden crosses and fir groves. And mountains, mountains, mountains. The name on the book cover was Ansel Adams; the coated paper was smooth beneath my fingers. I was fascinated by a sentence I still roughly recall: Greytones in photography are like piano keys in music: they are the same to everyone, but only few can make them ring.

Our paths kept crossing until I could no longer ignore his call. I stepped in Adams’ footsteps for the first time in America eight years ago. The trip started out as an homage to the master and his beloved landscapes. However, longing to go back again and again, searching for something, not really knowing what it was, and moving forward from where Adams had left off, my own personal journey began.

What do canyons and the desert do to a person whose eyes are used to the forest? I had entered the endless cathedral of nature. I was inspired on my journey by Arvo Pärt, a very important composer to me. How his music might look – in trees, sand, and rock –crystallised in my mind. The tightened silence between his sounds also brought silence in my works.

My “Ansel” is the 500 million-year-old landscape. It was here before the arrival of man. It will remain after the last of us is gone. 

01_f_KK2_7958.jpg
02_f_KK2_8443 1.jpg
03_f_KK2_8550.jpg
04_f_KK2_7352.jpg
04_f_KK2_7361.jpg
06_fin_KK2_0589_valmis.jpg
09_f_KKK_6693.jpg
10_f_KK2_2723 1.jpg
08_f_KK2_6620.jpg
11_f_KKK_0225.jpg
12_f_KK2_9892 1.jpg
13_f_noise_KK_07219_3000.jpg
14_f_KK2_6488.jpg
18_f_KK2_4826_2.jpg
15_f_KK2_7156.jpg
19_f_KK2_8052 1.jpg
16_f_KKK_0505.jpg
17_KK2_7040_3.jpg
20_f_KK2_9392.jpg