The American Cowboy - Echoes of the Frontier
Echoes of the Frontier
The figure of the cowboy has long stood as a symbol of freedom, resilience, and the endless horizon of the American West.
From the iconic paintings of Frederic Remington to Edward Curtis’s portraits of Native American life, the visual history of the frontier has always been bound up in myth, endurance, and deep connection to the land.
Over the course of four years, I set out to create my own record of this world, traveling across the western states, living alongside working cowboys, and witnessing a life where tradition and hardship walk hand in hand.
Every image was made on film, from 35mm to medium format to large format sheet film, depending on the moment and the spirit of the place. The project was slow by necessity, built on trust, patience, and an enduring love for analog craftsmanship.
The work was recognised with awards around the world, but for me, its real achievement lies in what was preserved: a quiet, honest portrait of a way of life already beginning to disappear.
These images are a conversation across time, between myth and reality.
The Teddy Boys - The swagger and the stare
The Swagger and the Stare
Sharp suits, sculpted hair, crepe-soled shoes.The Teddy Boys weren’t just a fashion, they were a statement.
A post-war rebellion wrapped in Edwardian tailoring and rock ’n’ roll swagger. Part outsider, part dandy, always defiant.
Drawn to their style and presence, I spent time photographing Teddy Boys across the UK, working in the spirit of Weegee — flash on camera, in-your-face and unapologetic. It’s a look that suits them: stark, brash, and direct, cutting through the haze of nostalgia with something more raw and real.
What emerges is a portrait not of costume, but of identity stitched into lapels and laced into winkle-pickers, lived in back alleys, dance halls, and street corners.
This series is about attitude, tradition, and that rare thing in photography: people who know how they want to be seen.
Under Cerro Rico - Photographs from the Silver Mines of Potosí
Under Cerro Rico
Cerro Rico looms above the city of Potosí like a monument to both fortune and suffering.
For centuries, it has yielded silver at an unimaginable human cost, a mountain mined so deeply it is said to be hollow. I went there to see for myself what endures.
Inside the mountain, time changes. Light is sparse, the air is thin, and every movement is deliberate. The miners chew coca leaves to steady their breath and blur the ache of altitude, heat, and pressure. Their faces, their tools, the walls themselves, everything bears the mark of repetition and resilience.
Photographing there reminded me, oddly, of my first job, in the engine rooms of ships, where the air was hot, close, and heavy with noise. The mines had a similar atmosphere: thick, metallic, and always pressing in.
On my first day underground, the altitude caught up with me, I lost my breath for a while. A miner noticed, offered a few calm words and rubbed alcohol on my throat, a small gesture that left a lasting impression.
Photographing in such conditions was as much about respect as technique, working quickly, listening closely, and staying out of the way. The camera became secondary to simply being present.
These images were made in those depths, not to explain, but to witness. To step beneath the surface of a place shaped by sacrifice.
This is Cerro Rico as it still lives — scarred, sacred, and very much alive.
After the line Stopped - Longbridge after Closure
After the line stopped
These images were made during its years of abandonment, when vast halls lay silent and rust crept across the bones of machines that once built generations of cars.
Notice boards clung to fading photographs of workers, echoes of lives lived in shift patterns and solidarity. This series captures the strange, melancholic beauty of a place emptied of people but still full of presence.
Though these photographs focus on a time of stillness and decay, the story of Longbridge continues. Today, much of the former site is being transformed through a major regeneration project, bringing new homes, businesses, and opportunities to the area.
But for a moment, this was a place suspended in time, haunted by its past, and waiting for what came next.
In the Drivers seat - Photographs from the front seat of America
In the Drivers Seat
These portraits aren’t about horsepower or polish—they’re about people.
The kind whose cars tell stories in rust, wear, and the things they carry with them. Shot in worn, working vehicles across the American landscape, each image is a life framed by windshields and dashboards.
You’ll find cracked vinyl, sun-faded trinkets, maybe a coffee left half-finished. But more than that, you’ll find presence—an honesty you can’t fake and a quiet pride that runs deeper than paint.
Everyone here gave their time freely. What they gave in return was more than a photograph—they gave a glimpse of who they are.
This is a portrait of America, one driver at a time.