Artist statement

I go back to the same mountains.
The Fallenflue, the Rigi, the Matterhorn from Stellisee — not to chase a perfect light, but to understand what it means to know a place over time.

Each work in Blends of Memories is built from photographs taken at a single viewpoint across months or years: the same ridge in summer haze, winter snow, autumn fog, midsummer glare. I cut these images into geometric components and assemble them by hand, layer by layer. The final object is editioned but not reproduced — each piece is physically made, and small differences in cut, overlap and pressure mean no two are ever identical.

What I'm after is the mountain a single photograph can't hold. One image gives you an instant. The collages refuse that — they keep the same place across time in the same frame, which is closer to the way a place actually lives in memory, where seasons fold over each other and a ridge you stood on last year bleeds into the one you climbed last month. Memory doesn't archive. It composites.

The Alpine is the right material for this because it only pretends to be permanent. Glaciers retreat, weather rewrites contour, light changes the mountain into something else by the hour. A photograph is a claim about a moment. A collage, for me, is a claim about a relationship.