The Observer

The Mediterranean series is a slow walk through the South of Europe — Provence, Liguria, the Balearics, the Côte d'Azur — captured in the soft register that the region keeps for itself between the cliché postcards. These are the in-between hours: terraces before service, harbours after lunch, plaster walls catching late sun, olive trees doing what olive trees have always done. The palette runs warm and dusted: ochre, chalk, sage, sand, the particular faded coral of shutters that have been repainted nine times. The frames favour stillness over spectacle, the human-scale moment over the wide vista. A waiter's reflection in a glass. A linen tablecloth lifting in the breeze. The corner of a square in Saint-Paul-de-Vence the moment before the day gets loud. The series is held together less by geography than by a tone — the editorial hush of a place that has nothing to prove, photographed with a light hand and a soft palette. Each piece can stand alone; together they read like a long lunch you don't want to end.