This image still matters to me because the light shaped more than the scene. The light intrigued me, the story is what made me photograph him, a story that would have otherwise remained unknown to me.
Context
I made this photograph in Suriname in January, during the short monsoon season. I was moving through the plantations, places filled with history and now protected as cultural heritage sites. Because these areas are spread out, I continued by bicycle, following quiet paths between them.
That is when I came across him.
He was working with wood in a calm and steady rhythm. Before making the photograph, I spoke with him to understand what this workshop meant. As the conversation unfolded, it became clear that this was more than a place of work.
The workshop had been passed down through generations. It once supported four full time workers who built traditional wooden boats known as Korjaals. These boats were used widely for transport across Suriname’s waterways.
That demand is now declining.
Plastic motorised boats have replaced them in many places. They are cheaper at first, but they wear out faster and cannot be repaired in the same way. What was once shared work is now carried by one person.
He continues regardless.
He told me the craft matters because without it, the knowledge disappears. In more remote regions and in areas focused on sustainable travel, there is still a need for these boats. That demand is what keeps his work going.
Shot on Kodak Portra 160
Encounter
The photograph came after the conversation.
The light was already there, soft and directional, shaping both the man and the wood around him. It felt steady and reliable.
I did not need to change much. I only needed to recognise what was already present.
What makes this image stay with me is how the light and the craft come together. It is not only a portrait of a man at work. It carries a way of life that may not last.
Technical Details
This photograph was made on a Hasselblad XPan with the 45mm lens using Kodak Portra rated at ISO 160.
The most important decision was exposure.
Scenes like this can mislead a light meter. Dark wood, low light, and darker skin tones can cause the camera to overcompensate. I chose to underexpose by about 1.5 stops to preserve depth and tone.
Perspective also mattered.
I used a low angle and framed the image through pieces of wood in the foreground. This created depth and gave the feeling of being inside the space. At first glance, the setting may not be obvious. With more time, the workshop begins to reveal itself.
Shot on Kodak Portra
Reflection
This image did not fully reveal itself to me at first.
Initially, I saw it as a study of light and composition. Over time, it became something else. It became about preservation, about knowledge being carried forward, and about quiet persistence.
It holds more than I understood when I made it.
Lesson Learned
A photograph can grow in meaning over time.
What seems simple at first can become something you return to. Not because it explains everything immediately, but because it continues to reveal more.
Closing
This is one of the images I return to from my time in Suriname. Not because it stands out immediately, but because it stays with me.
If you would like to read more about my time in Suriname, you read more about it in my article about the Lone tree at the Brokopondo Reservoir.
