I was very humbled to be accepted into the prestigious Documentary Photography degree at the University of Wales College Newport. The course was world-renowned and first set up by Magnum photographer David Hurn in the 70’s. One of the key attributes was that lecturers were practicing photography with requirements to continuously publish work during their tenure.

I was humbled to be accepted because, unlike the majority of my peers, I had no real-life experience outside of being in education. This was an unwritten requirement for the course and although at the time I felt honored to be accepted, with hindsight and maturity I understand the value of that life experience on a person’s art. Although I had years of technical knowledge in everything from composition and lighting, to film and darkroom techniques, I was lacking in the real-world context required to really tell a story.

Throughout my studies I was fortunate to have Clive Landen, Pete Davis, and Paul Seawright as my lecturers. Clive Landen is most recognised for his work Familiar British Wildlife (1994), a landscape piece looking at roadkill. Paul Seawright whose work spans from Sectarian Murders in Northern Ireland to the war in Afghanistan, and Pete Davis a landscape photographer with some amazing work, which most resonated with me as a student. His attention to detail was second to none and the quality of his printed work was outstanding.

Through my University years, I explored the Welsh valleys extensively and focussed a lot of my photography on the landscapes of Bannau Brycheiniog (Breacon Beacons) and their industrial past. I owe my love of this area to my grandma who lived there. As a child we would run through the hills and hide in the bracken, picking bilberries and climbing slag heaps. The continuous reinvention of this area over the centuries has created a diverse and rich history, from the Norman conquests to the industrial revolution, and through the government’s investment to create the “Silicon Valleys”, it has remained infinitely beautiful through all of its scars.

Photo by Martin Förster