Autumn in Patagonia lasts a few weeks at most. The peak — when the lenga beeches turn deep red against granite and ice — is narrower still. I spent seven months in El Chaltén before I understood how to meet it.

Cerro Torre has fascinated me since the first photograph I ever saw of it. Getting something honest from it took years of trying. The answer, when it came, arrived at night.

A few days ago I stumbled upon this shot that I had initially started processing but then forgot about. I remember liking the shot a lot, but due to extensive noise I didn't really bother. The noise came from a hot sensor (high temperatures, extended use of live view mode and long exposure) and looked much like what I had to deal with in "A Desert's Sky".

I’ve been trying to capture the beauty of my homecountry Austria for some time now. So far with limited success. But two days ago, after many not so satisfactory attempts, I finally got what I had been waiting for so long. And here it is:…

In my last post "Last Moments of Light" I tried to explain why I prefer shooting at little known locations far away from civilization. That's right, I do strive for a certain amount of uniqueness and adventure in my images but drawing the conclusion that I wouldn't stop for shooting an icon right next to the main road would be completely wrong.

I don't do black & white conversions very often. It's not that I don't like working in monochrome. I rather think that creating a truly shining b&w image is way harder than working in colour. All possible flaws become far more prominent when you reduce a photograph to it's minimum: contrast and texture.

I had already buried my hopes for a sunset shoot when we were cooking dinner (noodles in vegetable soup). The last clouds had disappeared and my legs felt too tired to climb up to the Torres del Paine again (I knew this was a sunrise…