How it started

Barbados. A beautiful island in the southern part of the Caribbean. It’s where the Mottley (mother’s maiden name) side of my family are originally from. October 2023,  it’s also where my wife Amber, our young daughter Elodie, our son Aart and I spent the last couple months of Maternity leave for little Aart.

Before making the trip to Barbados I did some research to see if there was anything I could look into as a personal project while there. The sea bathing horses stood out. The problem with that is that it stood for many people - it had become a popular tourist attraction and as such, had been photographed by everyone and their grandmother. This sort of discouraged me at first. Who wants to do what everyone else has done? But then I saw it as a challenge to see if I could make the images and the story my own.

The first morning I went as a bit of a recce, dark and early. There was a lovely lady on the beach Nola, who runs a pop up coffee stall. She and her coffee became my lifeline for the series. She knew all the groomers and their schedules and policed the beach, keeping the keen tourists out of the path of the beautiful but imposing animals.

The shoot days

This series was made on five separate days over the course of four weeks. Each morning had its own personality. Some were darker and stayed darker for longer. Some so still and tranquil there was a level calm that seemed to connect the sky to the ocean, to the horse, to the groomer. They all exuded the same energy. There was tropical rain one morning (Nola's umbrella meant that I was still able to get some shots. Some of which made the final cut) and on another, the bright Bajan sun was in a hurry to chase away that before sunrise light that I’d fallen for.  One particular morning the horses moved about with suspicious energy, jumping and fidgeting anxiously. I remember the explosion of colour in the sky that morning. The dark of the blue was brightened by scattered pinks and yellows and orange. There was high energy and the ocean felt it too. Swells brought in uncharacteristically massive waves above head height. Locked in on the viewfinder, determined to keep the frenetic motion in front of me in focus, my non viewfinder eye was on the lookout for encircling horse poo and incoming waves. One slipped through. I didn’t see it. I, and my Hasselblad, felt it. Slapped. If you’ve ever been hit by a wave where its tip marked you as the target, you know what I mean by that description. Slapped! How my camera survived I don’t know but Hasselblad, I love you. 

Influence

The conditions in Barbados - heat, beaming sunlight, and turquiose waters in the day;  and starlit skies at night where I could turn off the white noise on my phone and let mother nature's sounds put me to sleep - felt right at home to me. They were, though, far removed from the conditions we had just left behind at our home in Copenhagen. And I can't help but think it was the Copenhagen influence that helped shape how I approached this series - 

Gratitude

This series was dependent on the kindness of others. Amber for giving me the time while on holiday; and Nola and the groomers who graciously welcomed me and accommodated my presence and efforts.

A percentage of the profits from this series will go towards a GoFundMe account set up for the groomers who are hoping to gain some work experience overseas.