Recharging
Even though I love discovering new places, today reminded me how important it is to have spots you can return to. Places where you know what to expect, yet still give you space to grow.
I came back to such a place today—a place I’ve visited often since my childhood. Even though it’s been a while since my last visit, nothing had changed. That’s what made it so beautiful. A familiar feeling that brings calm, that lets you breathe.
Here, I have time to reflect, set new goals, and simply be present. No distractions, no expectations from the outside—just me, the moment, and the quiet certainty that some places will always welcome you back.
Just being. Recharging. Gathering strength.
“When will you realize Vienna waits for you?”
Or, to borrow from Billy Joel: “But you know that when the truth is told, that you can get what you want, or you can just get old.”
Either way – today it’s all about Vienna. On this mild late-summer afternoon, I couldn’t resist heading up into Vienna’s local hills. I don’t want to use too many words here; my focus was on capturing tourist spots from a slightly different angle, holding on to fleeting moments, and playing with light and shadow.
Enjoy!
Oh my Simmering
Finally, I got around to sharing these photos – even though they were already taken back in June during the “Grätzel Walk” organized by ZIGUTAMVE.
The challenge was simple but exciting: one black-and-white film, 36 frames, one district.
And since the 11th district of Vienna – Simmering – also happens to be my home, I was especially curious about how this would turn out. I know almost every corner of this beautiful part of the city, but experiencing it in a group, through the lens of film photography, gave me a fresh perspective.
The walk started at the Zentralfriedhof – a place I actually don’t visit nearly as often as I should, despite living so close. From there, we explored the Simmeringer Haide, the local greenhouses, and finally Schloss Neugebäude. Each stop had its own atmosphere, and together they painted a portrait of Simmering that felt both familiar and new.
It was a wonderful walk, full of inspiration and fun.
A big thank you to Dino for organizing the event – and also for developing the film at PHOTO CLUSTER.
Concert photography with the Fujifilm X100V
In early August I had the chance to photograph a concert from a former bandmate of mine. It had been quite a while since my last concert photography session, and back then I worked with a telephoto lens. This time I wanted to challenge myself and see how the Fuji X100V – with its fixed 35mm lens – would perform in such a setting.
And I have to say: it works. Of course, it means you have to move a lot. With a fixed focal length you can’t just zoom in, so I found myself constantly walking, crouching, getting closer, stepping back – but in a smaller venue like this, it was actually an advantage. The location was very familiar to me, since I’ve even played there myself in the past. Without the barrier of a photo pit, I could move freely – from behind the stage to right up close with the band. That freedom gave me plenty of creative space to explore different perspectives.
Low Light Performance
Concerts are rarely known for perfect lighting conditions, but the X100V held up surprisingly well. For an APS-C camera, ISO values up to 12,600 were absolutely usable. Some images needed a bit of noise reduction in Lightroom afterwards, but with today’s tools that’s almost effortless. The colors, on the other hand, came out beautifully straight out of camera – just as I’ve come to expect from Fuji.
Burst Shooting
This was also one of the first times I really put the 11 fps burst mode to the test. Normally I don’t have a reason to use it, but here it made perfect sense. Capturing fast moments on stage – the energy, the movement, the emotions – worked flawlessly, and I ended up with a great selection of shots.
Conclusion
Concert photography feels like a natural extension of my love for music. It’s a refreshing break from my usual photography routine and a creative challenge I want to continue exploring. Whether capturing live performances or creating portraits of musicians, I’d love to bring more of this energy back into my work.
Frankfurt through my eyes
With a few unexpected free days this week, I decided to take a small trip — just me and my camera. Since I’ve already flown plenty this year, I wanted to travel by train and cross the Austrian border without boarding another plane. The choice fell quickly on Frankfurt.
I’ve visited several German cities before — Munich, Berlin, Hamburg — but the metropolis on the Main was still new territory for me. My photographic focus was clear from the beginning: architecture and street photography. And well… what can I say? A few photos came out of it, but honestly, my expectations were higher.
Even after five days, I never really warmed up to the city itself (despite the brutally hot weather). Sure, Frankfurt has its share of modern high-rises, but I’ve seen them in far more spectacular form elsewhere. There are a few charming half-timbered houses, yet most were reconstructed after WWII and the notorious drug scene around the central station is hard to overlook.
In the end, what I felt missing was a certain heart, soul, and identity. Nevertheless, I had a good time — it was refreshing to dedicate myself fully to photography under different circumstances, even if the city didn’t entirely win me over.
Wales at its Best
I’ve been lucky enough to visit countries like Canada, New Zealand, and Iceland — places often celebrated for their raw natural beauty. And rightly so. But to my surprise, Wales holds its own among them.
Rugged coastlines that melt into golden beaches. Rolling hills and dramatic mountains laced with hiking trails. Still lakes that reflect the sky. And then there are the castles — weathered, timeless, quietly resting on hillsides or hidden in valleys. They don’t demand attention, but they leave you with a sense of place, of history still breathing.
I won’t try to describe it all in detail. Wales doesn’t ask for grand explanations. It simply shows up — wild, gentle, and incredibly real.
Sometimes that’s all you need.
Let the images speak.
Where Knowledge Meets Mystery – England in Colour
After a cloudy start in Cambridge, the journey continued south — and so did the weather.
Oxford greeted me with blue skies and an unexpected gift: I happened to arrive on a University Open Day, which meant I could slip in among the prospective students and explore parts of the colleges usually hidden from view. Grand halls, peaceful cloisters, ancient libraries — it was a rare look behind the curtain of one of the world’s oldest academic institutions.
From there, I wandered west.
Stonehenge stood still and timeless in the early light — a stark contrast to the liveliness of Bath, where golden stone and summer light gave the city a soft glow.
With the change in weather, the colour returned — and with it, a new rhythm to this trip.
Cambridge in Black & White
Travelling across the UK – Part One
I’ve been to the UK a few times before. Photography wasn’t the main focus then – and, to be honest, it wasn’t on this trip either.
But I had a pretty good idea of what to expect in terms of weather.
And yes – the very first day delivered exactly that.
Grey skies. Light drizzle. No real sunlight. No shadows. No colours.
Just one big, damp, atmospheric cliché.
So I knew right away: I had to get a little creative.
The start of the trip was a bit less relaxed than hoped.
A few issues with the rental car company added some unnecessary chaos to the Cambridge stop.
Still, between the drizzle, the cobblestones, and the endless rows of bikes, I managed to slow down – and make a few frames that I’m glad to share.
Shot in black & white – mostly because there wasn’t much colour to begin with.
Scroll through the gallery if you like.
The journey continues in the next blog post.
Stay tuned.
Why I Listen to Music While Photographing #9
Light, rhythm, and the silence I choose.
For those who know me, it’s no secret:
I love music.
I grew up playing drums and guitar – and ever since I was a kid, music has been everything to me.
I rarely leave the house without headphones.
And that doesn’t change when I pick up a camera.
In fact, listening to music is one of my favorite ways to focus while photographing.
Some might ask, “Isn’t it distracting?”
Or even “Doesn’t it disconnect you from your surroundings?”
Yes. That’s exactly the point.
With noise-cancelling headphones, I don’t hear anything else.
No traffic. No small talk. No construction noise.
Just the frame in front of me, the light, and my thoughts.
It’s not about isolation.
It’s about clarity.
About creating a space where everything else fades.
What kind of music do I listen to?
Almost everything.
Wherever the mood takes me.
Of course, my musical home is somewhere between indie and alternative rock.
But when I’m out shooting, I often find myself listening to classical music.
Nothing too heavy – I’m no expert –
but Mozart, Beethoven, or Strauss can shift something in me.
Especially in places like Salzburg,
Mozart feels like part of the light.
If photography is about presence,
music is the rhythm that carries me into it.
Salzburg, Austria 2024
Austria’s Most Beautiful Lake #8
Weekend escape
Sometimes, all you need is a change of scenery.
And sometimes, that scenery just happens to be one of the most stunning places in Austria.
I recently spent a weekend at what might be the country’s most beautiful lake. Nestled between mountains and forests, far from the city’s rush, it offered exactly what I’d been craving: fresh air, still water, and the kind of quiet that clears your head.
Yes, it was about ten degrees colder than in Vienna. But somehow, the chill made it better. The air felt cleaner. The colors sharper. The light softer. Everything slowed down — in the best possible way.
I spent my time walking along the shore, listening to the water, watching the clouds drift past the peaks. There wasn’t much to do — and that was exactly the point. No deadlines, no distractions. Just the landscape, the lake, and a bit of stillness.
But enough words — some places speak best through pictures.
Here are a few frames from this short but memorable escape.
The Mamiya Experience – First Thoughts on a Medium Format Beast #7
I wasn’t planning to buy a new camera.
But then I came across it.
A Mamiya RB67 in great condition, at a price I couldn’t ignore. Medium format photography had been calling me for over a decade — and now, finally, I answered.
And let me tell you: I’ve rediscovered photography all over again.
The first time I held it, I was completely overwhelmed. Not just by the weight (this thing is no joke), but by how different it feels from the 35mm cameras I’m used to — and I’ve shot quite a few. Minolta, Pentax, Canon, Leica… but this is another world.
The Mamiya RB67 is slow, mechanical, and demanding. It asks you to be present. To pay attention. To know your steps — or at least to try: remove the dark slide, ready the shutter, advance the film, lift the mirror. It takes time to internalize the rhythm, but once you do, it starts to flow. And once it flows, it becomes deeply satisfying.
But the next challenge came quickly: shooting in the city.
There’s nothing discreet about this camera. Heads turn. People stare. It’s not built for spontaneous street photography — not for someone like me, who’s drawn to quiet, storytelling moments. So I realized early on: this camera has its place. It’s not for everything. But it’s perfect for some things — for landscapes, architecture, for stillness and intention.
So I loaded it up and set out with three rolls: two Portra 800s, one Ilford HP5 Plus.
Honestly? I had no idea what would come out. I’d seen plenty of example shots online, but I still had no real sense of how my images would turn out. The light wasn’t great, and I was still fumbling through the process.
But looking at the scans now, I’m satisfied.
The Portra tones are stunning. The Ilford has a softness I love, even if it lacked a bit of contrast (which I gently corrected in post). But more than anything, this first round of shooting reminded me of something simple:
Photography doesn’t have to be perfect.
It just has to be honest.
Holding the Mamiya forces me to slow down, to think, to mean every single frame. It’s frustrating. It’s heavy. It’s magical.
And I can’t wait to shoot more.
Frames of Intention – My First Roll on the Minolta XD-5 #6
I just got my first roll back from the lab.
Shot on Ilford HP5 Plus 400.
Black and white. Grainy. Honest.
And absolutely beautiful.
It’s not my first time shooting film –
but every time, it feels like starting over.
Like learning to see again.
The Minolta XD-5 doesn’t rush you.
It doesn’t do much for you, either.
It simply asks you to be present.
To notice.
To decide.
There’s no autofocus. No preview screen.
You don’t know what you’ve captured –
until days later, when the negatives come back.
And even then, you don’t get perfection.
You get reality. With all its softness and surprises.
This roll reminded me how much I love the process.
The patience. The uncertainty.
And also the joy of seeing something turn out better than expected.
Ilford HP5 has a timeless feel to it –
soft in the highlights, gentle in the grain.
I tweaked the contrast just a little in post.
Not to “fix” it – but to bring it closer to how it felt.
Some frames are imperfect.
One or two, I missed focus.
A couple are underexposed.
But all of them mean something.
Because all of them were made with intention.
And maybe that’s what I love most about film:
It doesn’t care how many likes it’ll get.
It just asks: were you really there?
A companion with character. Heavier than it looks, calm in the hand, and always reminding me to slow down.
Back in Vienna – Back to Basics #5
The art of seeing, again.
I love to travel.
And I’ve been lucky to travel a lot.
In the past six months alone, I visited New Zealand, Bali, and Svalbard.
New places, unfamiliar light, unknown rhythms –
it’s easy to feel inspired when everything is new.
Now I’m home again.
Back in Vienna.
Back to my routines, my desk, my deadlines.
And back to the corners I already know by heart.
But that’s where it gets interesting.
Because when things are familiar, you have to look harder.
You have to slow down.
To work for the frame.
And to rediscover what you thought you’d already seen.
The past few days, I’ve been going back to basics.
I picked up an old Minolta XD5 for some film experiments (results coming soon).
And I’ve also been walking through the city with my Fuji X100V –
nothing fancy, no post-processing. Just JPEGs. Just light.
Vienna doesn’t surprise me anymore.
So I have to surprise myself.
By noticing again.
By seeing better.
Because in the end, that’s what photography is.
Not the place. Not the gear.
Just the practice of paying attention.
All images were taken on May 6, 7 and 9 straight out of the Fuji.
Nothing added. Nothing taken away.
Just presence.
And a little bit of light.
Let’s Talk About Gear #4
Why I don’t care about having the best – and still don’t shoot on my phone.
Gear isn’t what excites me about photography.
I’ve never cared much about having the latest body or the fastest lens.
These days, I shoot mostly on a small fixed-lens Fuji.
It’s simple. And it works.
People often say, “You can take amazing photos with your phone these days.”
And they’re right.
Phones are incredibly capable – fast, sharp, smart.
But for me, photography isn’t just about results.
It’s about the process.
When I hold a camera, I slow down.
I think in light.
I move differently.
I observe, instead of react.
Adjusting aperture, ISO, and shutter speed might sound like just settings –
but to me, it’s a ritual.
A way of being in the moment.
A conversation between what I see and how I feel.
Phones are great for snapshots.
But I rarely enter the same mindset with them.
They’re fast, but I want slow.
They’re clever, but I want presence.
Of course, I’m curious about new things.
New sensors, new lenses, clever features.
But do I need to follow every trend?
Probably not.
Something yoga has taught me, too:
You don’t always need more.
Sometimes, everything you need is already there.
Because in the end, I don’t want a camera that tells me what to shoot.
I want one that reminds me why I’m shooting in the first place.
So no – I don’t need the best gear.
But I do need something that makes me stop and look.
That’s what my camera does.
Not because it’s expensive.
But because it’s a tool that helps me pay attention.
And that’s all I really ask of it.
Why Photography Matters #3
Especially Now
We live in a time of constant input.
The moment there's silence, we reach for our phones.
A message, an update, a headline.
The mind rarely rests.
But photography asks something else of us.
It doesn’t demand attention –
it invites it.
When I have a camera in my hand, I see more.
I notice the way the light bends around a window frame.
The crack in a wall. A shadow that looks like memory.
I move slower.
I look longer.
In a world where speed is default, photography is a pause.
A way to return to the present.
Not to capture it.
Just to be in it.
Salzburg, Austria 2024
On Light #2
And Why It’s Never Just Technical
I often get asked what kind of light I like to shoot in.
The golden hour? Cloudy skies? Hard contrast?
The answer isn’t a type of light.
It’s a mood.
I look for light that doesn’t scream.
That doesn’t try too hard.
The kind of light that slips through a door frame.
That touches a shoulder in a way no one notices.
That fades while you’re still figuring out the frame.
For me, light isn’t about exposure or sharpness.
It’s not about highlighting the subject.
Sometimes it is the subject.
And sometimes it’s what holds everything together –
quietly, patiently, barely visible.
That’s the kind of light I keep following.
Not to master it.
Just to stay with it a little longer.
Aoraki Mount Cook National Park, New Zealand 2024
Entry #1
Why I Photograph – And What I Don’t Want to Capture
Photography has been with me for over ten years.
Sometimes more present, sometimes fading into the background.
At times, it was a way to distract myself,
at others, the only way to focus.
Today, it’s mostly this:
A way to look – slower, deeper, quieter.
I don’t photograph to own something.
Not to prove anything, either.
I photograph to honor moments that might otherwise pass unnoticed.
To observe how light moves.
To make visible the quiet in-between.
I’m less interested in what’s loud.
More in what stays, gently – after it’s gone.
My images are made on film and digital,
while traveling or standing still.
With gear, yes – but never because of it.
It’s not about perfection.
It’s about what remains.
One More Light isn’t a project.
It’s my way of seeing the world –
and, maybe, of showing it.
Christchurch, New Zealand 2024