08/05/2026
I took these portraits of Donso musicians in Kankan, Guinea, not very far from the border of Mali.
Darkness had already fallen upon the village, and only two weak solar street lights illuminated the dusty open space where the musicians performed while locals danced with their guns under the dark night sky.
The voices of the singers pierced the silence like swords of light through the darkness. During one of the performance breaks, I took the musicians aside and made these portraits with a tiny pocket light that I carry on my tours.
For a brief moment, it brought some calmness into the intensity of the atmosphere.
People assume that I love cycling, and that is why I have been traveling the world by bicycle for more than 11 years.
But that is not really the case.
I travel by bicycle because it is the best way to explore the world. Slow, intimate, and demanding. A way of travel that requires both physical and mental resolve. You must work hard to earn your experiences.
Photography is the reward. It is what I truly love and enjoy. Cycling is the labor and the price I pay to experience and document people, places, and cultures.
Behind these portraits of honest and dignified musicians — performing for their own people, untouched by materialism, tourism, and social media — are thousands upon thousands of kilometers of cycling across deserts, villages, borders, heat, loneliness, and uncertainty.
All of that effort, just to stand in places like this for a few fleeting moments and witness something real.
And perhaps that is my true love for the indigenous cultures and tribes of Africa. Not to consume them, but to reach them slowly enough to truly see them.