A new perspective

Photography is art, and like all art, it thrives on creativity—on daring to see the world from a new perspective. Sometimes that means finding a different angle, and sometimes it means putting yourself, and your gear, in situations that carry both risk and reward.

This trip was always meant to be special. It was my chance to test out Carapace—a custom-built, remote-controlled camera car designed to bring me closer to wildlife than ever before. Alongside that, I wanted to refine another technique: using a monopod in tight or unusual spaces, where it allows the camera to slip into scenes I could never reach by hand. Both methods open doors to extraordinary images, but they also come with a certain unease. After all, expensive equipment placed nose-to-nose with wild animals rarely comes out unscathed.

Carapace

The night had been long, and we’d been tracking five Lionesses through the darkness for what felt like hours. Finally, a break—their path became clear. We raced ahead, setting up a couple hundred meters away, hoping to intercept them at just the right moment.

I checked their distance again, and my heart sank. The lionesses weren’t far away anymore—they were already closing in, and fast. Adrenaline kicked in as we scrambled to finish the setup. Carapace was lowered to the ground, its wheels humming softly in the still night air.

Then it happened. One Lioness, bolder than the rest, veered off course. She came straight toward the little machine. We spun the car around to face her, finger hovering over the shutter. And then—she stepped right over Carapace. I fired the camera at that precise instant, capturing a perspective so intimate it felt almost unreal: the view from beneath a Lioness in motion. A moment of tension, danger, and beauty—all frozen in a single frame.

Monopod

Not long after, we stumbled upon a hyena den—a place buzzing with restless energy and curiosity. Young hyenas bounded about, playful and mischievous, darting in and out of the den’s shadows. This was the perfect chance to put the monopod to work.

With the camera mounted and extended low, I edged it closer than I ever could have with my own hands. The reaction was instant. The youngsters approached, sniffing, circling, and eyeing the lens with that unmistakable mix of suspicion and curiosity. I captured their expressions wild and unfiltered—nature at its most raw and authentic.

In moments like these, photography becomes more than just documenting wildlife. It becomes a dialogue between human creativity and the untamed world. Tools like the Carapace and the monopod aren’t just equipment—they’re invitations into perspectives we’d otherwise never see. And with every risk comes the possibility of a frame that tells a story words never could.

I love showing a different perspective on animals not often shown, showing detail and a new respect for the size and beauty of these animals