The dark greyness of the granite of the Alps. The orange full of the shades of the dolomitic rock, the Dolomite’s crumbly prime material. The black rock of Etna still smoking, the mountain that reveals the incessant activity of creation in the earth’s passages... the mountains, this impervious scene where, until two centuries or so ago, man did not dare set foot being faced only with danger and finding no advantages. Then there is the romanticism which exalts those inaccessible, wild places putting an accent on the sentiment of the sublime which one feels when facing unhospitable and dangerous countryside. When I am photographing the mountains I like to forget alpinism, mass tourism, the convenience of the pathways, the mountain shelters and the ski-lifts so that I can return to these original sentiments, to the stupor and disorientation experienced whilst looking at these habitats which are absolutely unadapt to man. These enormous masses of prime material, pure emanation and solidification of the depths of the earth.