Lake Baikal

I spent three years on an island, in the middle of what the Siberians call “sea”: Lake Baikal. From December to May, landscapes of ice as if from another world appear and change. If winter is a spectacle, spring is an indescribable apotheosis. My link with the population was privileged and I obviously drew photographic testimonies from it as close as possible to shamans and Orthodox rites. I have published several photographic books but most are out of print.