Monochrome soul

Whenever people ask me about black-and-white photography, of course the first names that come to mind are legends like Helmut Newton, Richard Avedon, Irving Penn, Peter Lindbergh, Daido Moriyama, Sebastiao Salgado, Herb Ritts… photographers who understood how powerful simplicity can be.

But personally, black-and-white photography feels almost primal to me. Like returning to the origin of something. Especially when it’s shot on film. There’s this dense, soft, almost velvety feeling to it. It feels deeply alive. Deeply warm. No matter what you’re photographing.

And there’s something about removing color entirely that creates this timeless kind of elegance. Black and white has discipline to it. Precision. It reminds me of that little black dress by Coco Chanel - minimal, iconic, somehow right for absolutely everything.

But more importantly, black and white adapts itself to emotion. It doesn’t overpower the mood you’re trying to show. It becomes part of it.

And honestly, I don’t think black-and-white photography belongs only to masculine aesthetics the way some people assume. It works beautifully in everyday life, and it suits so many women in such an effortless, cinematic way.

I really, really love black-and-white photography for that.