The Photograph as Art Object
In a time where photography is ubiquitous—where every pocket contains a capable camera and most images live on screen — the photograph has become somewhat disposable. Swipe, pause for a moment, move on. My practice begins where that experience ends. For me, the photograph becomes complete when it exists as an object: ink on paper, given scale, material presence, and intention by the artist.
Beyond the Screen
Screens are ephemeral. They flatten experience, equalize images, and strip them of physical presence. A photograph viewed on a phone or monitor is light-based and temporary; it disappears the moment the device powers down or the feed refreshes. While screens are invaluable tools for capture, review, and communication, they are not the destination of my work.
My intention is to take my strongest images beyond this point — to engage with the them in studio, to refine them, and ultimately translate them into something that occupies space and demands attention. Through careful processing and printing on select specialty papers, the photograph is elevated from image to art object.
The Loop: From Intention to Art Object
I think of my process as a closed loop, where each stage contributes to the next:
- Travel Preparation – Research and intent. I travel with a clear sense of what I am looking for, but enough of an open mind to respond to what the landscape has to offer.
- In the Field – A methodical, attentive approach. Time is spent observing and engaging rather than reacting, allowing the image to reveal itself rather than be taken.
- Processing – This is not correction but interpretation. Processing is where memory, experience, and intention converge to shape the final image.
- Printing – The critical translation. Decisions made here determine how the photograph will live in the world.
- Framing and Presentation – The final step, where the work becomes complete.
Presentation is not an afterthought; it is the conclusion of the loop. Without it, the photograph can become diminished rather than elevated.
Ink on Paper: Where the Photograph Becomes Real
It’s all about the print.
Ink on paper introduces qualities that screens cannot replicate: surface depth, subtlety, and permanence. The interaction between ink and the paper fibres determines tonal separation, shadow detail, highlight nuance, and the physical presence of the image. I rely heavily on the expertise of Royce Howland of Royce Howland Print Studio in selecting the best paper/ink combinations for my specific portfolios.
I work with world-class materials — archival pigment and carbon inks paired with 100% rag, mould-made European papers and handmade Japanese Washi. Each paper has its own character: the way it absorbs ink, the way blacks sit on the surface or penetrate the fibres, the way highlights breathe. These choices are image-specific and intentional. The paper is not a neutral substrate; it is an active collaborator.
Scale matters as well. A well-considered print size changes how the viewer engages with the work — how close they stand, how long they linger, how their eye moves through the frame. These decisions cannot be made on screen.
Framing as Completion
Framing and presentation are acts of respect — for the image and for the viewer. I work closely with master framer, Candace Larson at Christine Klassen Gallery in this important final step. Museum-quality framing materials, careful choices in matting, and restrained design ensure that nothing competes with the photograph itself. The goal is clarity, focus, and longevity in the finished piece.
When properly framed, the photograph asserts itself as an art object with weight and intention. It belongs on the wall, not in a feed.
Why the Art Object Still Matters
Photography has never been more accessible, yet finely crafted photographic prints have never been more rare. This rarity is not about exclusivity for its own sake, but about commitment — to process, to materials, to collaboration, and to the belief that my best images deserve a physical life.
By carrying my work through the entire loop — from preparation to presentation — I am making a clear statement: the photograph is not finished when I trip the shutter. It is finished when ink meets paper, framing choices are made and the image takes its place in the world as a lasting, considered art object.
In a screen-saturated culture, the print asks something different of us. It asks us to slow down, to look longer, and to engage more deeply. That is where my work ultimately lives.
Collecting With Intention, Living With the Work
To purchase a print is not simply to acquire an image — it is to make a commitment to live with art created with purpose by a particular artist. A finely crafted photographic print carries the full weight of its making: the time spent in preparation, attention while in the field, the interpretive decisions in processing, and the care invested in printing and presentation. When you bring such a piece into your home or workspace, it becomes part of your daily visual and emotional landscape, revealing new subtleties over time. You can experience this firsthand when you view my work on the walls at Christine Klassen Gallery in Calgary.
Collecting, in this sense, is an act of discernment. It is a choice to value permanence over immediacy, material presence over pixels, and depth over volume. These prints are offered as limited editions of fifteen at CKG, reinforcing their rarity and the care with which they are made. They are meant to be lived with—to slow you down, to anchor a space, and to remind you that photography, at its highest level, is not just visual content but a considered art object, created in finite form and made to endure.