Here's a striking detail from the Tschierva Glacier, nestled at the foot of Piz Bernina in the mountain range of the same name. At first glance, the scene becomes an almost abstract universe, an interweaving of lines and shapes that seem to move like petrified waves. Every fold and crease tells of the slow choreography of ice, shaped by time and the seasons.

I captured this work by getting as close as possible to the glacier, where rock and ice become one. The light, subtle and frank, cuts the relief with sculptural precision, highlighting the infinite complexity of the strata. The shadows deepen the cavities even further, bringing out the graphic power of the painting. Contemplating these fissures, we can almost perceive the inner rustle of the mountain, the silent pulsation that animates the glacial world.

In this portrait, the Tschierva glacier reveals its intimate anatomy, both powerful and fragile. I love the duality that emerges from the image: an impression of solidity set against the reality of a material that never stops changing. On the human time scale, everything seems immutable, but we know how much these natural sculptures erode, giving way little by little under the effect of global warming.

Yet there remains a timeless beauty here. This mineral texture magnifies the dialogue between ice and stone, delivering a rare moment when nature offers us a spectacle as grandiose as it is secretive. In this labyrinth of folds and crevasses, we no longer know where the rock begins and the ice ends. We lose ourselves deliciously in a landscape that, at first glance, resembles the purest abstraction. And it's this mystery, this poetic ambiguity, that I wanted to capture: the echo of a primordial force, engraving its imprint on the very heart of the glacier.