A Love Letter to Light, People and a City That Transforms
Since 2009, I’ve had the joy (and privilege) of photographing Durham’s Lumiere Festival—every two years, the city turns into something magical, thanks to the creative brilliance of the team at Artichoke.
It’s not just a festival of light—it’s a festival of wonder. Of people wide-eyed and grinning. Kids pointing things out to grown-ups. Strangers chatting in the glow of an installation. From day one, it’s been as much about the people experiencing it as the art itself—and that’s exactly where my lens has always landed.
Yes, the artworks are stunning. But what’s always drawn me in is the feeling in the air. The way light bounces off old stone. The hush before a gasp. The faces lit up—literally and emotionally. That’s the heart of my Lumiere work.
A Different Kind of Glow – Lumiere 2023
Something shifted in 2023. There was a clear tilt toward high-concept pieces from globally renowned artists—beautiful and powerful, but with a quieter, more contemplative energy. Less interactive and playful than in previous years.
So I adapted. Instead of just capturing the public reacting to the installations (as I’ve done for over a decade), I found myself wanting to explore the artworks themselves more thoughtfully. Slower. With a bit more precision. But always grounded in the kind of honest, spontaneous imagery I love.
Mixing the Real with the Intentional
That’s where the Canon tilt-shift lenses came in—those geeky little tools usually used by architectural photographers to correct lines and perspectives. I started using them to build images with more control and structure, especially when I wanted the scale and shape of the installations to really sing.
I also began creating composite images—not to manipulate reality, but to stay true to what I was seeing and feeling in that moment. Sometimes one frame just wasn’t enough. This approach let me shape the story more intentionally, while still holding on to the soul of the experience.
But the human side never left. You’ll still find people in almost every frame—standing still in awe, or caught in a quiet moment of reflection. I just gave those moments a bit more breathing space this time.
Still Evolving. Still Listening.
What I love about Lumiere is that it never stands still. Each edition is a new conversation—between artist and audience, city and light, and between me and the work I’m creating.
Looking back over all these years of images, what I see isn’t just a visual record of an event. It’s a portrait—of Durham, of the people who fill its streets with energy and emotion, and of my own evolving perspective as a photographer.
Final Thoughts
Lumiere 2023 reminded me that even in documentary photography, there’s room for intentionality. For slowing down. For letting the art speak in a different tone, and adjusting how we listen—and look.
I’m still drawn to the human moments. Always will be. But how I photograph them continues to shift with the light.
And that, to me, is the joy of it all.
(Artichoke recently opened up proposals for Lumiere 2025. And yes—I’ve already got ideas.)
