If there’s one constant in my career, it’s that every step leads to something new. Over the past 37 years, I’ve worn many hats: prop master, beer and liquid stylist, rigger, director/DoP, and now cinematographer. Each role has been a natural progression, driven by curiosity and a passion for the craft. For me, it was never about leaving something behind—but running toward what excites me most. Transitioning into cinematography feels like the culmination of everything I’ve learned—like finding the heart of what I love most about this industry.
My career has always moved in cycles. Every six to seven years, I find myself shifting gears—not out of boredom, but because I naturally gravitate toward the next challenge. I started as a prop assistant, moved on to become a prop master, and then transitioned into beer/liquid styling, where I found immense satisfaction in the intricate, technical artistry of the job.
It was during this time that I built a rigging shop, which eventually evolved into a studio. One day, an agency creative walked in, saw a beer wave I’d constructed for a shoot, and said, “We’re filming here.” That moment changed everything. Instead of just building for others, I began directing/DoP’ing my tabletop projects and creating my own ideas.
For a long time, directing felt liberating. It gave me the freedom to craft stories and realize my visions. But as liberating as it was to direct, I began to feel a pull—a quiet calling to return to the technical craft I’d always loved.
One of the most pivotal moments in this journey came unexpectedly. I stumbled upon an artist residency in France, and with just two days left to submit a proposal, I quickly typed “farm-to-table food photography” into the application and hit submit. I didn’t think much of it until I got a call: “You’re in.”
That residency reawakened something in me. Working alone, without a team or a stylist, I experimented with light, texture, and motion. I started with simple compositions—a plate of croissants—but soon began pushing for more. Each shot was an exercise in precision: no post-production, no Photoshop—just the raw interplay of light and subject. It reminded me that the pursuit of the perfect frame can be just as fulfilling as crafting a full narrative.
