There’s {a photograph} of two kids on a seesaw. Nothing uncommon, besides they’re sitting six metres underwater off Fiji, completely nonetheless, hair floating upward, performing an on a regular basis gesture the place human life can’t be sustained. For photographers, the instant query is not what it means (that is clear), however how Nick Brandt made it occur.
The reply reveals every part about Brandt’s strategy. In stark distinction to the way in which photojournalists work (capturing occasions as they unfold), the Oxford-born photographer levels elaborate scenes requiring months to plan and weeks to execute. As a outcome, 67 large-format photos from his four-chapter sequence The Day May Break are being proven collectively for the primary time at Gallerie d’Italia in Turin from 18 March to six September 2026.
The technical problem
Despite what some might assume, that underwater seesaw – a part of SINK / RISE, Chapter Three (2023) – is not a digital composite. Brandt bodily transported playground tools to the Fiji seafloor, weighted it and labored with native households to create photos which can be concurrently stunning and devastating.
The technical demands must have been unbelievable. Managing natural light filtering through water. Dealing with visibility issues. Maintaining compositional control when everything wants to float away, ensuring subject safety.
But Brandt isn’t doing this to show off. He’s doing this because the people portrayed underwater, performing ordinary domestic gestures in an impossible environment, represent Pacific Island communities facing permanent displacement. It’s a glimpse of futures already being written.
Months, not moments
From a photography point of view, we’re a long way from the fashionable emphasis on spontaneity and decisive moments. Each chapter in Brandt’s series involves months of preparation with local crews who understand terrain and communities. Scenes are carefully staged. Lght and atmosphere emerge through patience and responsiveness to nature’s unpredictabilty. Weeks of printing and selection follow.
Chapter One (2021), shot in Kenya and Zimbabwe, sees rescued animals alongside people displaced by climate disasters (cyclones, droughts) placed within the same frame. These aren’t candid shots but carefully composed tableaux. Chapter Two (2022) continues in Bolivia, where a monkey appears in sharp focus while human figures recede into fog. The staging is theatrical, yet subjects’ dignity remains uncompromised.
For photographers accustomed to working alone, Brandt’s collaborative model is instructive. He works with local teams who know the communities, understand cultural sensitivities, and can facilitate the complex logistics of positioning people and animals in extraordinary circumstances. A behind-the-scenes section of the exhibition reveals this methodical approach in detail. It’s a useful counterpoint to photography culture’s romanticisation of the lone artist.
Refugees and resilience
The Echo of Our Voices, Chapter Four (2024), commissioned by Intesa Sanpaolo, makes its debut here. Shot in Jordan, it portrays Syrian refugee families in desert landscapes where water scarcity worsens with climate change. A young girl stands atop a concrete pedestal against jagged mountains, her wind-blown dress and direct gaze suggesting both vulnerability and resilience.
Climate photography at this scale requires institutional support. Brandt’s large-format prints and months-long production demand resources editorial assignments rarely provide. And overall, this exhibition’s grand scale – 67 large-format images across four continents – offers photographers a case study in sustained project development.
Developing this show has involved years of commitment, complex production and ethical collaboration with communities under extraordinary stress. But it’s been time well spent: the results are technically accomplished, morally engaged and uncomfortably timely.
Nick Brandt. The Day May Break. The light at the end of the day runs from 18 Mar-6 Sep at Gallerie d’Italia, Piazza San Carlo 156, Turin, Italy.