A smoking crater of the active Stromboli volcano. In the backdrop we see the islands Panarea, Lipari, Vulcano and further behind Sicily. The volcano last erupted at the beginning of July 2019, killing a hiker. The volcano is constantly active with minor eruptions making the island and its views of the glowing volcano a tourist hot-spot. The volcano has been in continuous eruption for the past 2,000 years.
Argentina visitor Nora watches the volcano erupting from a pool on Stromboli Island. The volcano last erupted at the beginning of July 2019, killing a hiker. The volcano is constantly active with minor eruptions making the island and its views of the glowing volcano a tourist hot-spot. The volcano has been in continuous eruption for the past 2,000 years.
Number of pages:320
Dimensions:340x245
Publication date:27/05/2022
A farmer checks her tomato plants after the eruption of the Sinabung volcano as covered the plants with ash.
Agriculture drives the region’s economy, thanks to the mineral-heavy volcanic soil. Yet the same volcano that makes the soil so fertile is the same force with the potential to destroy any farm within several miles.
I grew up near Ecuador's rumbling volcanoes. Recently, I set out to explore the diverse communities living where Earth bares its insides. This story was heard by National Geographic, who decided to publish it on their website back in 2017.
Back in 2018 I was featured in TED IDEAS. Volcanoes have a certain hypnotic appeal — but would you want one in your backyard? I introduced you to the humans who co-exist with these unstable and sometimes deadly forces of nature.
Back in 2019 I was invited to Xposure in Sharjah UAE, the biggest photo festival in the middle-east, to have a beautiful exposition of my volcano project, as well as having an inspiring conversation on podium about it.
At the end of 2020 I was featured in Leica’s camera-blog. I used their camera’s to create these “volcanic artworks”, as they liked calling them. In this blog I talk about my ongoing project which I have been working on for the past 8 years.
A volcano is an intriguing phenomenon. I think we can learn a lot from volcanoes and from the people who live on them. They bring us closer to nature again, closer to the power of the earth and therefore also closer to ourselves. This is the message I conveyed at TEDxHilversum 2017
A photo of me in the field, hard at work offloading my pictures and videos before sending the drone back for another treacherous mission above the volcano.
A picture of my exposition at the International Photoreporter Festival in Saint-Brieuc, France. This was one of the first expositions of my volcano project.
Fagradalsfjall volcano erupted on March 19 2021, after 800 years of dormancy in Iceland.
2014 eruption of the volcano Tungurahua in Ecuador for Reuters
Gede Mundut, 49, at the crater bringing an offering, as the 9,994-foot Mount Agung spits out smoke in front of him.
The volcano is an important part of the spiritual lives of nearby inhabitants.
Mount Paektu as depicted at a bus stop in Pyongyang, North Korea. The volcano Paektu is of a great symbolic meaning in North Korea. It is the cradle of the North Korean revolution and celebrated as the birthplace of Kim Jong Il. It is a symbol of the Korean Nation and the yearning for reunification.
Ecuador, Cotopaxi, 2015
Cotopaxi south of Ecuador’s capital Quito, is among the highest and most dangerous active volcanoes in the world, but the legends around it are linked to love. They are based on a rivalry between the warriors Cotopaxi and Chimborazo for the beautiful Tungurahua, which are all names of volcanoes in Ecuador. According to variations of tales in local mythology, Tungurahua married Chimborazo and had a child called Guagua Pichincha, another volcano which looms over the Quito skyline.
As I was born in Ecuador and knew about these legends, I expected to discover examples of deep love, devotion and mythical belief in the people living around Cotopaxi. Stories are also told here of the major eruption in 1877, passed down through generations. I visited during the recent eruption of ash and steam in 2015, when the local people saw their giant 5,897-metre (over 19,000 ft) neighbour wake up again.
I was with Segundo Benites, a cattle farmer who was among the last people to leave the area of Mulalo, at the foot of Cotopaxi , on his last days as he prepared to go to Quito. Tears were falling down his face as he explained his connection to his land, the beauty of the mountain and his surroundings, and the sense he had that Cotopaxi was throwing him out. He said he knew he had to leave eventually but something was keeping him there, because he was so deeply rooted in the area. Committing himself to this land had been linked to a duty to his mother and relatives to stay there after his father died. The significance of family here also extended to the snowcapped volcano, who the local people referred to as Daddy Cotopaxi. They were saddened that they were having to leave him but also accepting of his anger, because of the respect that they had for him.