Have you ever had a place just feel like home before you’ve even stepped inside? That’s how the Cortes Cliff House was for me. As I stepped out of the vehicle, the first thing I noticed was how fresh the air felt. The branches were rustling against each other in the gentle breeze. Walking up to the home felt like a warm hug from Mother Nature.
When I was a kid, we had a multi-generational family cottage on Lake Joseph in Ontario. Each Friday during the summer, we would pack our things and head north; a sense of calm would come over us as we unpacked the van and settled in for the night. Arriving at the Cortes House unlocked these childhood memories for me.
Taking photographs of special locations brings you to the present. You get to see the place’s personality unfold as you watch Mother Nature interacting with it: shifting light, seasonal changes of the leaves, evolving storms passing by.
When I worked with the interior designer for this project, Amber Jordan of Salt Spring Island, I tried to get a sense of what vision she had for the space—an understanding of why she put certain details together to create a specific feeling, and how the interior collaborates with the outdoors.
After I arrived at the home, Amber and I went over the details for the next day’s shoot.
“It was a reminder that no matter how much planning you do, the greatest beauty can come when you’re not expecting it”
Based on photos from weeks earlier that showed the direction the house faced, I felt that sunrise would be my best chance for perfect photos. Since we were close to the longest day of the year, this meant getting up at something like 4:30 a.m. to start preparing.
The night before the shoot, Amber and I walked through the house, discussing photo ideas and lining up the shots we wanted to get when sunrise first hit.
Suddenly, we realized an event was unfolding before our eyes: as the sunset lit up the sky, a diverse group of colours emerged, filling the home with the most beautiful hues. It was a reminder that no matter how much planning you do, the greatest beauty can come when you’re not expecting it.
I felt a wild need to capture a few frames, so I whipped out my camera and grabbed a couple of special moments. Have you ever seen the prance that dogs do when they get very excited? That is the dance I do each time I capture the perfect light, and I did it that evening.
The following morning, we got up early and started doing final preparations. We had agreed that a shot of the primary bedroom, with Amber outside on the balcony, was a priority.
During the brief wait for first light, my nerves were going; shooting straight towards the sun is something I tend to avoid (although I’ve learned that the riskiest endeavours can have the highest rewards, when executed well.) Despite my anxiety, in those few moments leading up to that shot, the world was beautifully still.
It’s been two year since I captured those images, and I still remember that time fondly.
Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always been curious about design, aware that every space has a personality with different moods. It might run in my blood: my great-grandfather was a builder who built many homes in Richmond Hill, Ontario, over 100 years ago. He also built the family cottage I mentioned above.
“Spaces can shape-shift our lives, and it’s an honour to take part in articulating that in a photo”
Maybe my childhood memories of playing non-stop in the water and around the boathouse, family board games inside, or conversations with my grandfather on the deck overlooking a 150-year-old oak tree had a profound impact I didn’t know before writing this article.
Every space provides a feeling, an experience, which we may only register at a subconscious level. That Cortes home gave me a sense of warmth and welcome that I recognized deep inside; being there, wondering what memories would be made there, felt like a privilege.
Spaces can shape-shift our lives, and it’s an honour to take part in articulating that in a photo.
