Modern living room featuring a framed neon cityscape print above a wooden sideboard, surrounded by lush tropical plants.

Value

 

- ALL PRICES INCLUDE WORLDWIDE SHIPPING -

 

Print size                 Price

30×45 cm...................€160
40×60 cm...................€220
60×90 cm...................€310

 

 

The price reflects the object.

The value belongs to the story.

 

Gloved hands carefully handling large black and white photographic prints on a wide-format printer in a studio.

Why film ?

 

 

 

Film has always drawn me in — i come from cinema before photography. The reel unwinds slower, but you can still hear it turning. The material is there, tangible — you load the roll, careful to keep it from the light.


When I look at a film photograph, I see grain, presence — a living image, imprinted with its own history. Almost as if it had relief. My eyes sink into the scene, and for a moment, I feel like I'm there.

 

 

Black and white aerial photo of a winding river delta with sandy banks and misty mountains in the background.

 

 

People often ask me: "Why do you still shoot with film?".

In China, this genuinely surprised me.

Everyone carried the latest camera, convinced that "better" gear meant better photographs.

a camera doesn't decide what's worth looking at.


The hardest part isn't pressing the shutter. It's knowing when. Here, no burst mode. Just a single chance. The limitation is the point: every roll gives me 36 frames, each one is a decision.

It forces attention instead of accumulation.


So you wait. You wait. You wait. And, you see it. The moment.


But you never know if the next one will be better.

You press the shutter. But it's already too late.

 

 

Vintage photographs scattered on a table under moody red darkroom lighting creating an atmospheric retro photography scene.

Not only a print, but a story

 

 

Every print, before becoming a photograph, has already travelled thousands of kilometres.

Behind every frame, there are hours of walking, waiting, observing, and returning.


There are sleepless nights, waiting for the film to come back from the lab. Wondering if those moments — still invisible — were really captured at all. Hours spent hunting down the right lab along the way.

Can I actually trust them?

Handing over the result of all that work to someone new, someone I don't even know yet.



Trust. Risk. Letting go.

 

Man in white shirt peers through a large telephoto camera lens in a dimly lit room.
Person examining a black and white photograph through a magnifying glass outdoors near trees.

 

 

Sometimes a careless lab ruins a roll.

Sometimes I do.


Yes, there's waiting. Sometimes disappointment. But mostly — excitement. The excitement of a child receiving a gift to unwrap. The promise comes with the vulnerability of every new roll developed.

That non-immediacy might be the most beautiful thing about shooting film.


What you receive is not only a photograph,

but a fragment of a journey and a piece of humanity.

 

 

Dark cinematic warehouse filled with stacked wooden crates, illuminated by a single spotlight on a small figure below.