In the Valais Alps, the Matterhorn catches fire at dusk. This black-and-white photograph is one of my first portraits of the mountain. As soon as I saw it, I sensed that the bond that would unite us would be exceptional. Its powerful, sumptuous pyramidal silhouette. Its way of standing alone above the valleys, at the risk of incurring the wrath of time. For those who know how to observe it, the Matterhorn reveals the splendour of an impetuous nature. The Matterhorn's rare meteorological phenomena can be seen at summit.

When I created this work in 2015, I wasn't yet on the lookout for snow-capped mountains. I was following my instincts, my desires, to shape my own definition of alpine beauty. But I could already feel the bubbling fervour for a mountain I wanted to be unique.

It's summertime and, as the sun declines, I'm getting ready to bivouac on the heights of Zermatt. Suddenly, the weather turns nasty. The moment I'd been waiting for arrives. I have to immortalize the extraordinary movement of the clouds as they take hold of the Matterhorn. This incessant to-and-fro of mist that reveals the mountain and then hides it. To do this, I add a black filter to my camera and opt for a 30-second exposure time. Out of fifteen or so shots, only this one captures the intensity of this unforgettable moment. The beauty of the Hörnli ridge against the clouds. The subtlety of the shades of grey that endow the picture with incredible dramatic power. The striking luminosity of the mountain's north face and the clouds that cling to its eastern slope. The Matterhorn rises like a celestial torch in honor of the greatness of the kingdom to which I have decided to dedicate my art.