Walking to work, Sudbahnhof, Vienna. October 2003.

Train stations are one of the staples of a photographer’s visual diet. Many people moving past your lens, just passing through, thinking only of where they are going or who they are going to meet and hardly aware of their environment. Sadly many stations now employ staff who’s sole job appears to be telling anyone who pulls out a camera that pictures are forbidden.

Heldenplatz, Vienna, Austria. January 2004.

Vienna in the snow. The flakes were huge and falling so gently that, when they landed, they barely seemed to touch the snow already lying. The Viennese take to the snow like it’s their natural element. Fabulous coats and hats, special boots, they look wonderful as they move through the glamorous backdrop of their city centre. Taking pictures in the snow has it’s own dangers – snow flakes are far worse than raindrops for getting water inside the camera and wreaking havoc.

Elmeyer Dance Academy, Vienna, Austria. November 2003.

The dance academy is a rite of passage for middle class Viennese teenagers. For one or two evenings a week they attend one of the many establishments in the city and learn to waltz, fox-trot, quick-step and pasa-doble – and of course get to grips with the opposite sex. Using the lens I do means I have to be quite close to my subject, and it takes a little while before they are comfortable with me. Very soon, though, it’s as if I’m not there.

Michaelerplatz, Vienna, Austria. October 2003.

Belief in balance and conformity is something of a tradition in Vienna, and you frequently see expressions of it as you walk around the city. I enjoy taking pictures in the flat light of northern Europe at this time of year, so much less demanding than the searing, knife-like light of the Mediterranean. I find myself seeing different things when the light is soft, more how things actually look and not how the light makes things look.