
The portrait that opens this post is my self portrait taken in 2004. I was going through various turmoil at the time, but one thing remained unchanged. My passion for portraiture was above all else. I created a lot, boldly and in my own way.
It’s good to remember that sparkle in my eye.
When I think about creating portraits, I see a lens for perceiving the subtleties and uniqueness in each of us, for emphasising the soul over the body, for celebrating the moment of meeting around the lens.
Softness, sensitivity, touching the core. Power, not force.
Without generating images in AI or changing the image in a flood of retouching.
With gentleness and acceptance. Without coercion and imposed trends. In the light and lightness of bright tones or the mystery hidden in the shadows.
In black and white.
Monochromatic creation has always provided me with more aesthetic experiences than colour. Somehow, I felt that between shadow and light you can see more and look deeper.
I like simplicity, minimalism and graphic nature.
It’s not that I don’t like colours in photography at all, or that I don’t like colour photos. They often impress me. It’s just that I’m not good with colours, I don’t see them, or perhaps more accurately, I find it much more difficult to imagine their composition than one composed of forms and structures in shades of grey.
Before I entered professional photography, between 2000 and 2006, I only took monochrome analogue photographs, that is, on film. Film added softness, grain and errors in exposure or development to the grey scale. All this together created an interesting and unique mix.
And then I decided to enter the profession, which required me to quickly switch to digital and colour. It was a prerequisite for starting work as a photojournalist. And of course, I have no regrets. But looking back on recent years, I know that somewhere along the way I lost that vibe, that synchronisation with what I like most about photography. I think that was one of the reasons for the professional burnout I’ve been struggling with over the last two years (burnout in freelancing).
Recently, I came across a post on the internet where slides were displayed with two contrasting photos, “now” and “then”. The photos juxtaposed the sparse, monochromatic space of streets, flats and public places with those with a large dose of colour. The caption read: colours are being taken away from us, the world is turning grey.
Two thoughts came to me. The first is that it is always a matter of taste. The palette is really wide and we may like extreme different things. And that’s okay. If I invite you to enter my vision of black and white photography, only those who like it will accept it. And that’s it.
The second is that the transition to minimalism, in form, quantity and content, is, in my opinion, closely correlated with the overload of the modern world. Recently, I have been suffering from overstimulation on many levels. So I try to calm down my surroundings: more silence (I will write about it), fewer things, slower, calmer. And maybe that’s why I’m also becoming more monochromatic.
I guess I’m not the only one who feels this way. The need to tone things down is a need of our nervous systems. Minimalism may be the answer.
And the comments under the mentioned post only confirmed my thoughts. There will be supporters of both trends. And that gives us diversity, fortunately.
There is another aspect that is important to me when I think about black and white photography. Elegant classicism, timelessness and references to iconic portraits by renowned photographers, which we still admire despite the passing of years. The thing about classics is that they do not age, they are not subject to trends, they simply navigate between eras. And that is why I value them.
When the current direction became clear to me, I realised that acting without pressure, in harmony with myself, without aggressively convincing myself or anyone else, is my priority. This is basically a prerequisite for returning to portraiture with pleasure and without a knot in my stomach. So the answer is classic, and at the moment I don’t want to do it any other way.
Will there be exceptions to this monochromatic rule? Possibly. But they will arise without pressure.
Will it be this way forever? I don’t know, basically nothing is forever.
Now is now.
I thought I was moving into a niche. But I’m just going back to my photographic roots.

The portraits in the mosaic above are some of my favourites that I have created in recent years. This is the style I feel most comfortable with.
January 2026