WHERE THE NOISE ENDS

“My work begins where the noise ends,” Stephan says. “In moments of stillness and solitude, I set the camera down—not to capture, but to listen.” He speaks of immersion, of slowing down to let the landscape breathe into him before he lifts the camera to shape the image. The result: compositions where the distinction between sky, water, and land dissolves into a unified sense of presence.

There is a kind of silence that doesn’t just fall—it seeps in slowly, displacing the rush and clutter of modern life.

The photographer invites us into a visual meditation: landscapes blurred by long exposure, horizons softened by water and light, and figures that feel more like thoughts than people.

What draws you to the arts?

The amazing thing about art is its ability to trigger, to move.

What did you like best about this photography project?

I like to immerse myself in the atmosphere of the landscape, let it sink in and then try to capture the essence.

In Stephan`s black and white photo series Where the Noise Ends, silence becomes both subject and space.

Each image in this series—visible in the selection shown here—has a haunting calm. In Where The Noise Ends_10, a group of figures emerges faintly from a glowing haze, their reflections soft and spectral, as though rising from memory. In Where The Noise Ends_07, a dock stretches into the water like an unfinished sentence, suspended in a long exposure mist. Other images (08, 11, 14) turn the tides and sands into calligraphies of motion and time, etched with minimal brushstrokes of grey.

There is no loud message here—only invitation. To pause. To breathe. To feel.

Stephan draws on the quote by Georges Braque, “Art is a wound turned into light,” as a quiet lodestar. For him, photography is not about control or performance, but surrender—to mood, to transience, to emotion. “What draws me to art,” he says, “is its ability to move us.”

This gentle gravitation toward atmosphere and impermanence is what defines Where the Noise Ends—a title that is as much a destination as it is a process. The noise may not be gone forever, but in Stephan’s visual world, it recedes just long enough for the soul to exhale.