After visiting the Grand Canyon for the first time, I finally understand why people say that no photograph can capture what it feels like to stand at the edge. The overwhelming sense of scale, the depth stretching endlessly into the distance, and the slight feeling of vertigo as you look down are impossible to translate into a two-dimensional image.
I brought along my Widelux, knowing its sweeping panoramic frame would do a better job than a standard 35mm camera at conveying the landscape. It certainly captured more of the canyon’s vastness, pulling the viewer across the scene from edge to edge. But even with its unique perspective, the photograph only hints at the experience.
Some places simply have to be felt in person. The Grand Canyon is one of them, and this frame serves more as a reminder of that moment than a recreation of it.
The Widelux captures an expansive 35mm panoramic frame, emphasizing the bridge’s sweeping cables, massive stone towers, and the scale of the surrounding skyline in a way that traditional cameras simply can’t.
While crossing the bridge, I was equally drawn to the everyday moments unfolding around its architecture. In one frame, a worker locks eyes with the camera while replacing a security camera high above the East River, adding an unexpected human element to one of the world’s most iconic engineering structures. Together, these photographs explore both the timeless design of the Brooklyn Bridge and the constant work required to keep it functioning for the millions of people who cross it each year.
Since the Widelux lacks a film speed dial, I’ve gotten into the habit of photographing the freshly loaded film with my iPhone as a quick reminder of what’s in the camera. More of my widelux work can be found by scrolling this blog or on my website.
Located in the heart of Seattle’s South Lake Union neighborhood, the Amazon Spheres have quickly become one of the city’s most recognizable pieces of contemporary architecture. Designed by NBBJ and completed in 2018, the three interconnected glass conservatories were conceived as a workspace unlike any other, bringing thousands of plants and natural light into the urban environment.
The Spheres are constructed from a complex network of steel and glass panels that create their distinctive geodesic form. Surrounded by Amazon’s downtown campus and Seattle’s growing skyline, the building offers a striking contrast between nature and the dense urban fabric that surrounds it. The transparent structure constantly changes with the light, reflecting neighboring towers while revealing glimpses of the lush interior landscape.
As an architectural photographer, I was drawn to the relationship between the Spheres and the surrounding high-rise buildings. From this vantage point, the organic geometry of the glass domes stands in contrast to the vertical lines of the downtown towers, creating one of Seattle’s most unique architectural compositions.
Originally constructed in 1890, the Hull Building is one of Seattle’s oldest surviving commercial buildings and a reminder of the city’s rapid growth during the late nineteenth century. Its brick façade, cast-iron detailing, and prominent corner location have made it a lasting architectural landmark, standing in contrast to the modern towers that now surround it in Seattle’s evolving urban landscape.
One of the most recognizable landmarks along historic Route 66, the Conoco Tower Station in Shamrock, Texas has been drawing the attention of travelers since it opened in 1936. Designed in the Art Deco style, the station’s distinctive tower and geometric façade were created to stand out among the endless miles of highway crossing the Texas Panhandle. Today, it remains one of the best-preserved examples of roadside architecture from Route 66’s golden age.
While driving west across the country, I made a point to stop and photograph this iconic structure. The symmetry of the building, the vertical emphasis of the tower, and the soft colors of the restored façade felt perfectly suited to medium format film. Photographed on a Pentax 67 with a 75mm f/4.5 lens using Kodak Ektachrome E100 film, the larger negative captured the architectural details and subtle color palette that make the Conoco Tower Station such a memorable landmark. E100 rendered the muted greens, cream-colored masonry, and dramatic Texas sky with remarkable clarity, helping preserve the character of this Route 66 icon.
Nearly ninety years after welcoming its first motorists, the Conoco Tower Station continues to stand as one of the most photographed examples of Art Deco roadside architecture in America and a favorite destination for architectural and film photographers exploring historic Route 66. See more of my commercial architecture work here.
Horseshoe Bend is one of those rare landscapes that immediately challenges the limits of photography. No matter what camera you bring, the scene is simply larger than the frame. During our cross-country drive from Nashville to Seattle, we stopped at Horseshoe Bend in Arizona and I set out to photograph it with a Widelux panoramic film camera loaded with Ilford Pan F Plus 50. The Widelux is known for its unique swing-lens design, which scans across the scene to create a panoramic negative with a field of view far wider than a conventional 35mm camera. The resulting images have a distinctive look, with subtle distortion and stretched perspective near the edges that has become synonymous with Widelux photography.
Even with its panoramic format, I quickly realized that a single frame wasn’t enough. The immense scale of Horseshoe Bend extends beyond what any film camera can truly capture, and while the Widelux came closer than most, the canyon still felt constrained by the boundaries of the image. Rather than hiding that limitation, I chose to embrace it. These two photographs were made from the same vantage point and are intentionally displayed stacked one above the other. Together they serve as a reminder that every camera, regardless of format, has limits. Sometimes the most honest way to photograph a landscape is to acknowledge that the scene is larger than the frame itself.
Photographed on a Widelux F7 panoramic film camera using Ilford Pan F Plus 50 black-and-white film, these images are less about documenting Horseshoe Bend and more about exploring the relationship between landscape, perspective, and photographic format. The vast canyon walls, the winding Colorado River, and the sheer scale of the overlook are difficult to comprehend in person and nearly impossible to contain within a single negative. By presenting both frames together, I hope to communicate not only the size of Horseshoe Bend but also the limitations—and beauty—of film photography itself.
This scene caught my attention near the base of Cecilia Cavazos Red Rock Monument. An abandoned gas station sits quietly beneath towering sandstone cliffs, a scene that feels frozen in time along this stretch of the American Southwest.
What initially looked like a forgotten building became a study in scale—the weathered structure nearly disappearing against the massive red rock formations rising behind it. These are the kinds of places that make a cross-country road trip memorable: locations with no destination, no crowds, and no signs directing you to stop.
Photographed on a Pentax 67 with a 75mm f/4.5 lens using Kodak Ektachrome E100 film. The combination of medium format film and E100’s vibrant color palette rendered the deep blue sky and warm sandstone tones exactly as they appeared on that clear desert afternoon near the Arizona–New Mexico border.
A forgotten roadside stop near the Arizona and New Mexico state line became one of the most memorable scenes from our cross-country drive from Nashville to Seattle. The abandoned storefront sits beneath towering sandstone cliffs, a reminder of the quiet places that often go unnoticed when traveling the American Southwest. Photographed on a Pentax 67 with a 75mm f/4.5 lens using Kodak Ektachrome E100 slide film, capturing the rich reds of the desert landscape and the deep blue desert sky.
Two images pulled from the archives that highlight a cold night in Lethbridge as the snow started to fall. A plow truck tailing behind the car I’m shooting from, and snowflakes falling on the parking lot at the UofL. The light posts used to match the architecture of the university. A detail that was not worth preserving over the years of renovations on campus.
As an architectural photographer, I’m always drawn to the relationship between light, structure, and place. My goal with this image was to photograph the full moon rising over the Nashville skyline, but what makes the scene special is the balance of three elements occurring at once. Behind the camera, the setting sun cast warm light onto the downtown buildings, illuminating their glass facades just as the full moon appeared above the city. For a few brief moments, the skyline sat perfectly between sunset and moonrise, connecting the end of one day with the beginning of the night. Capturing the photograph required careful planning, timing, and positioning, but the result reflects exactly what drew me to the scene: the intersection of architecture, natural light, and the rhythms of the landscape surrounding the city.
Figure walking a dog perfectly framed between the columns of the Parthenon in Nashville, Tennessee, illustrating the scale and symmetry of the landmark’s classical architecture.
As an architectural photographer, I’m constantly looking for viewpoints that reveal the relationship between a city and its surrounding landscape. This photograph was made from the John Seigenthaler Pedestrian Bridge overlooking the Cumberland River, one of the best locations to appreciate the scale and character of the Nashville skyline. From this vantage point, the river acts as a natural foreground, separating the city’s modern architecture from the viewer while creating a sense of depth that defines the downtown skyline.
The image was photographed using a Widelux panoramic film camera, a unique swing-lens camera that exposes a panoramic negative by rotating the lens during the exposure. Unlike a conventional 35mm camera, the Widelux captures an exceptionally wide field of view, making it particularly well suited for architectural and urban landscapes. The panoramic format allowed me to include both downtown Nashville and Nissan Stadium across the Cumberland River in a single frame, creating a perspective that more closely resembles the experience of standing on the bridge and taking in the city.
One of the qualities I appreciate most about the Widelux is the way it renders space. The camera’s swing-lens design introduces subtle distortion near the edges of the frame, stretching perspective and emphasizing the breadth of the scene. In a cityscape like Nashville, that distortion becomes part of the visual language of the photograph, reinforcing the scale of the skyline and the sweeping curve of the river below.
Photographed from the John Seigenthaler Pedestrian Bridge, this image captures a moment where architecture, infrastructure, and landscape converge. The Cumberland River, the downtown Nashville skyline, and the city’s evolving collection of buildings all come together within a single panoramic frame—a view that the Widelux was uniquely designed to capture.
A limitation of the Widelux camera is its inability to manage light flare effectively. By positioning the sun behind the bridge in this photograph, I was able to work around this issue while still capturing both the bridge and downtown Nashville.
Lower Broadway is one of Nashville’s most recognizable streets, where historic architecture, live music, and constant activity come together in a uniquely urban setting. I photographed this evening scene using a Pentax ME Super 35mm film camera loaded with Rollei RPX 400 film. The combination of black-and-white film and the fading evening light helped preserve the atmosphere of the street, from the illuminated storefronts to the historic building facades that define Broadway’s character.
Rollei RPX 400 handled the challenging lighting conditions well, retaining detail in both the bright signs and the darker shadows of the street. As an architectural photographer, I’m often drawn to how buildings shape the identity of a city, and Lower Broadway’s collection of historic commercial structures remains one of Nashville’s most iconic urban landscapes. This photograph captures a brief moment when the architecture, light, and activity of downtown Nashville all came together within a single frame.
