Turning a page is tactile, mysterious and very personal.

The concept that a successful photograph lets people in to decide is my jam.

An engaging picture may question rather than answer its viewer—often in a beguiling, indirect way. It’s this ambiguity that becomes the knife edge of whether a photograph is successful or not.

The magnificence of photography is that it can produce images that incite emotion based on subject matter alone.

Coupled with that, is the concept that when photographs are placed next to each other, something new may happen to these pictures—an additional message from converging contexts. I like to think of this as creating a ‘new truth’.

A single picture can do this very successfully. Attempting to string narratives of more than one image together adds a tantalising challenge from which a non-linear narrative eventuates.

Quite unlike a text-based story, a photographic narrative doesn’t serve the obvious—at the risk of losing the viewer. ‘What happens next?’ is what the curious asks at every turn of the page.

It’s this simple act that gives so much power to a photo book. The internet will not be able to replicate or replace this. It’s what happens when we turn the page that is so important.