Getting to Art Basel Paris at the Grand Palais was an adventure all on its own.
While wrapping up a chapter of my career in tech, I was in search of a new identity — shifting from the corporate world I’d known so well to embracing opportunities as a professional photographer. On Friday, October 18, 2024, I sent my “fare-whale” emails to my incredible Amazon Music colleagues of 7+ years, and boarded a flight to my next adventure: Art Basel Paris.
One eleven-hour transatlantic flight later, I found myself in Paris, venturing through the rain to the Grand Palais. Stepping inside, I was immediately struck by the grandeur of its vast, glass-domed hall, the sweeping ironwork, and the monumental proportions. Built for the 1900 Exposition Universelle, the Grand Palais has transformed over the years—hosting everything from World War I hospitals to couture fashion shows—making it an enduring icon of art and resilience, and a special place to exhibit an image highlighting the beauty and resilience of nature. To have my work shared here, as part of Art Basel, is something I’m still trying to fully comprehend.
The grand hall hummed with the energy of Art Basel — an atmosphere that only comes from thousands of artists, collectors, and enthusiasts converging in one place. Running on almost no sleep and armed with minimal information (like the booth number or location), the next challenge was finding it. We wove through the booths, scanned the walls, noted familiar artists, stopped at pieces that caught our attention, and lingered at the most perplexing. That’s the beauty of Art Basel: a scene designed to surprise, engage, and occasionally bewilder.
Being lost amongst the art felt somewhat fitting. It built suspense, excitement, and reminded me of being in the wild waiting for whichever elusive animal to appear. Eventually, after what felt like hours, I spotted a familiar image taken by Brooke Pyke of a spotted eagle ray from Western Australia. It hung on a white wall above a large digital screen.
We observed the digital program for about 30 minutes and followed the QR codes to the exhibition catalog. It was in this moment, we collectively, mistakenly, and prematurely surrendered the hunt for the whale tail. Thankfully, sleep deprivation, hunger, and the positivity of my friends - pointing out that my image did make the catalog, "right there on page 44-45, if you wait long enough for the it to actually load" - didn't leave me feeling cheated. After all, in the end, we were still in Paris.
The next day, after a solid 15 hours of sleep, I returned with one purpose: to grab a souvenir. As we wandered back toward the exhibit, 15 minutes before closing on the final day, I caught a flash of something familiar — my elusive whale tail! Yesterday, patience had not been my strength, and as I’d soon learn, the rest of the images were featured in the second half of the digital programming, totalling approx. 60 minutes.
That, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, was the moment it all felt real. My work, displayed on a screen bigger than me, lit up in the heart of Paris. It’s the kind of moment that calls for not one, but two glasses of champagne — because what else do you do when it's Paris, it's Art Basel, and there, front and center, is the magical whale tail that changed my life?
It’s the end of one chapter, the start of another - a dream that, just like that, had come to life. A real life fairy whale-tale.
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Thank you to Nautilus Magazine, Discover Earth, UNESCO, Art Basel, and Dona Bertarelli Philanthropy for including my image in your exhibit, “Biodiversity: Through the Lens”.