Statement

I

used to shoot landscapes. They’re simple, straightforward, an excuse to explore the wildlands. But over time I grew dissatisfied. My photos were sloppy, riddled with imperfections. I wanted to distill the essence of the natural world.

Now, I shoot wildlife. I don’t just want to capture the animal; I want to capture its world, put my subject in its place. The relationship between the creature and its environment is extremely important, and most photographers forget that.

My work is all about enunciation: I have a vision, a specific way of looking at the world, and my goal is to show the world that vision. When the light hits the leaves in a particular way, I see it, and if I can get the viewer to see that too, then I’ve succeeded. I take advantage of small details: the subtle bends of tall grass, the faint red of dogwood, or the soft streaks of cattails. I compose not from my subject outwards, but from the environment in; this way, my photos are cohesive, unified, and tight. I seek oneness, a photograph coupled with an emotion, a vignette of the moment captured. I want to tell the story, large or small, of my subject: a grasshopper’s evening poise upon its domain of cattails, a deer’s rainy-day ritual of shaking the water off its antlers, or a chimney swift’s migratory journey over autumn’s dry, rustling cornfields.

My work involves a give and take with nature. The ecstatic joy of discovering a downy woodpecker or long-eared owl or mule deer is what I receive from the world, but I have to start with a vision. With a story to tell I venture vulnerable into the woods and scoop up a bit of its soul. Photography is never passive; it’s a communion. In order to see, you have to stick your eye out into the bramble and hope that the world performs.