Reaching for the Nordic Sky
There is an undeniable rhythm to the architecture in Reykjavík, but nothing beats the heartbeat of Hallgrímskirkja. Standing at the base of this concrete giant, I felt as though I was looking at a physical representation of Iceland itself—cold, steadfast, and reaching upward. The church was designed to mimic the basalt lava columns found across the island, and in the shifting afternoon light, that connection to the earth felt incredibly powerful.
As I waited for the clouds to break, I watched people scurry like ants around its base. It reminded me that while our lives are fast and fleeting, these structures stand as silent witnesses to the wind and the changing seasons. There’s a beautiful solitude in looking up at something so vast, even when you’re standing in the middle of a bustling capital city.
The Visual Journey
For this shot, I wanted to play with the duality of Iceland’s weather. I leaned into a palette of cool slate greys and brilliant cerulean blues. The lighting was a gift—a mix of bright, direct sun hitting the face of the tower and soft, moody shadows clinging to the side. I kept the tones natural and airy to emphasize the height of the spire against that dramatic sky. The contrast between the stark, stony texture of the church and the soft, drifting clouds creates a mood that is both peaceful and grand.
The Creative Choice
The most important decision here was the vertical perspective. I chose to shoot from a slightly lower angle to accentuate the “stepped” design of the wings. By including just a hint of the life on the ground—the cars and the distant figures—I was able to provide a sense of scale. Without those small details, it’s hard to truly grasp how much this building dominates the skyline. It’s all about showing the relationship between the monumental and the everyday.
