A city gives you its official version first. The monument, the view, the itinerary arranged by someone who has never been there in February. These studies were made after that version runs out, in the mornings, in the hours when ordinary life continues, in the light that falls across stone at an angle nobody planned for. Cities and coastlines. Medinas and gardens. The feeling of a place before it resolves into familiarity.
The European studies keep returning to the same subject wearing different cities: old material in late light. Lisbon and Porto at either end of Portugal, Madrid and Paris in their afternoons, the north of Italy in its evenings, Copenhagen in the rhythm of an ordinary day.












Four studies from one country: Tangier at street level and in conversation, a Marrakech palace where the ritual of coffee was placed inside something already beautiful, and the Marrakech medina itself, on film, at the pace of a working day.




Cities that built themselves at speed and are now learning to hold still. Doha after midnight, the old port painted in colour, a mosque of geometry and light, and Dubai’s vertical afternoons.




Makkah and Madinah are unlike anything else in this archive: cities that are not visited but received. These two studies became Nearness, the studio’s first Pilgrimage volume.


The long-haul studies: Singapore’s permanence, Kuala Lumpur between worlds, Langkawi between forest and sea, and the Mediterranean and Alpine interludes that sit between flights.






Landscapes built to disappear. Two Chelsea gardens studied through the frame of institutional attention, and the great glasshouses at Kew, where the weather itself is curated.




And one study made without leaving: a home in Yorkshire, documented with the same attention the studio carries abroad, because stillness is also a place.
These studies cover four continents without any unified geography beyond curiosity. The medinas of Tangier and Marrakech. The stone city of Porto, the light in Madrid. Singapore and Kuala Lumpur. The French Alps in winter. Corfu in the hour after arrival, when the rooms still feel like someone else's. The question in each case is the same: what does this place feel like before it becomes familiar? The photographs do not explain. They look.
A study made anywhere is a study of attention. Not the place itself, which goes on regardless, but the quality of looking that a place makes possible.
Three of these studies have continued as editorial publications, combining photography, writing and design into works that allow a place to be experienced more slowly.
These studies have no brief behind them. They are made for the same reason any photograph worth looking at is made: because something in the light, or the arrangement of a street, or the quality of a morning demanded to be looked at carefully. The Places archive continues.