Ill Believe it When I See it

I'll Believe It When I See It examines photography's increasingly unstable relationship to reality, when images can't be assumed reliable evidence. Constructed 3D models, shift in scale when photographed and gain an authority beyond their origins.

I’ll Believe It When I See It, examines the increasingly unstable relationship between photography and reality at a moment when images can no longer be assumed to function as reliable evidence. I’m exploring the slippage that occurs as three-dimensional objects are compressed into two-dimensional images; where scale becomes uncertain and the photograph acquires an authority that exceeds the fragile materials from which it was made.

Crafted from cardboard, paper, tape, and glue — these fragments of domestic interiors, construction sites, and abandoned buildings, are assembled into structures that feel familiar yet subtly impossible. I photograph each one with a medium-format film camera, before dismantling it. The photograph becomes the only record of a place that was never real.

This work probes the realm of magic and mystery — the intangible edges of reality that resist explanation. I'm drawn to create things that feel uncanny, not to unsettle for its own sake, but to spark curiosity: to make viewers pause and question what they're looking at, and why they believe it. Up close, the constructions are visibly handmade: seams show, surfaces buckle, perspective unravels. But through careful light, framing, and viewpoint, they can deserve us. Black-and-white film abstracts the scenes further, emphasizing geometry and shadow while detaching them from any fixed time. I'm less interested in exposing the illusion than in sitting inside the question it raises: why do photographs persuade us, even when we know they can be staged? Strands of hot glue get caught in the light, the impossibility often obvious — and still, something in us wants to believe the space is real. That gap, between knowing and believing, is where the work lives. It aims to inquire about belief itself — into the trust we place in the photographic image, and what it might mean to hold onto that trust a little more curiously.