On my way back to Reykjavík, I drove through the small coastal village of Vík. It was one of those moments when all you really want to do is drive home, until you suddenly see something that makes you instinctively hit the brakes. Perched on top of the hill stood Vík’s church, small and bright white, its red roof standing out sharply…
On my way back to Reykjavík, I drove through the small coastal village of Vík. It was one of those moments when all you really want to do is drive home, until you suddenly see something that makes you instinctively hit the brakes. Perched on top of the hill stood Vík’s church, small and bright white, its red roof standing out sharply against the dark mountainside behind it.
What makes this place special is the contrast. The church almost looks like a miniature in the vast landscape. Behind it rises a steep mountain face, with dark basalt and thin strips of snow. The landscape is rugged, vast and silent. By photographing from the road below with a 200mm lens, I was able to bring the layers of the landscape closer together. The church, the hill and the mountain face thus come closer together, enhancing the sense of scale.
At that moment, the low winter light fell just right. The church was bathed in soft sunlight whilst the mountain face behind it remained dark. This made the white building and the red roof stand out even more powerfully.
Whilst I was taking photographs, small groups of people were walking around the church. They are barely visible in the photo, but provide just enough scale to show how vast the landscape really is.
For me, this is the kind of photo that encapsulates the essence of Iceland: a small human structure in an immense and rugged landscape. A moment when you stop, look, and realise just how impressively simple a place can be.