Petros Koublis was born in 1981 and is based in both New York and Athens.
His relationship with photography started in 2000, after having dedicated some years in painting.
He studied photography in Athens and participated in a series of seminars on the history of photography, being mostly developing his style through a constant personal exploration.
His professional relationship with photography started in 2004.
His work has been presented in exhibitions, major Art & Design platforms, publications and magazines all over the world, like the British Journal of Photography, the Royal Photographic Society Journal, European Photography, Southern Weekly, Esquire Russia, Nakedbutsafe and others.
Sunken lane in La Meauffe, France, site of a 1944 World War II battle (photograph by Romain Bréget/Wikimedia)
Appearing like trenches dragged into the earth, sunken lanes, also called hollow-ways or holloways, are centuries-old thoroughfares worn down by the traffic of time.
They’re one of the few examples of human-made infrastructure still serving its original purpose, although many who walk through holloways don’t realize they’re retracing ancient steps.
The name “holloway” is derived from “hola weg,” meaning sunken road in Old English. You’re most likely to discover a holloway where the ground and the stone below are soft, such as places rich in sandstone or chalk.
No one ever engineered a holloway — erosion by human feet, and horses or cattle driven alongside, combined with water then flowing through the embankments like a gully, molded the land into a tunneled road.
It’s hard to date them, but most are thought to go back to Roman times and the Iron Age, although in the Middle East some are believed to stretch back to ancient Mesopotamia. They even have their own ecology, such as the spreading bell flowers that enjoy the disturbed earth.
Last year Robert Macfarlane published a book called Holloway that mused on the landforms alongside gorgeous woodcuts by Stanley Donwood. Macfarlane described the sunken lanes as “rifts within which time might exist as pure surface, prone to recapitulation and rhyme, weird morphologies, uncanny doublings.”
Back in 2008, he described the geology of the holloways in an Orion magazine article:
“The oldest holloways date back to the early Iron Age. None is younger than three hundred years old. Over the course of centuries, the passage of cart wheels, hooves, and feet wore away at the floor of these roads, grooving ruts into the exposed stone”.
Little Covert, Bradford Abbas, England, where a holloway was worn in the soft rock over centuries (photograph by Nigel Mykura/geograph.org.uk)
“Built in 1799, the tower stands majestically 1,000 feet above sea level, one of the highest points in the county,” he said.
“I wanted to create a fairy tale atmosphere with this image.
It took a number of visits over a six-month period to get the low cloud and morning mist, but the end result was worth all the early starts, as the image turned out exactly how I imagined it.” Darren Moore.
Fine art series winner – Established Supply Corridor from the Botanical Inquiry series
‘Botanical Inquiry is a series of photographic dioramas that shuffle nature, geography and physics into familiar but fictional environments,’ says Australian photographer Daniel Shipp.
‘In these compositions the physical characteristics of the unremarkable plants I have collected become storytelling elements which, when staged against the backdrop of common urban environments, explore the quietly menacing effect that humans have on the natural world’
Leonid Afremov is a Russian–Israeli modern impressionistic artist who works mainly with a palette knife and oils.
Using his unique knife painting technique and unmistakable style Afremov creates paintings that seems to explode in a millions of bright colors.
Afremov is one of the very few self-representing artist who promotes and sells his work exclusively over the internet with very few exhibitions and involvement of dealers and galleries.
Before the advancement of online sales and eBay, Afremov was a struggling artist. During the early 1990s, Leonid Afremov was mainly working with watercolors and acrylic.
He was painting what people were buying, with very little artistic freedom. In 1994, out of extreme desperation, his 16-year-old son Dmitry tried to sell Leonid’s paintings door to door around the neighborhood.
This practice proved itself very effective, and Afremov suddenly started selling many pieces he painted and was also getting better money than from selling directly to galleries. Dmitry proved himself to be a good door-to-door salesman. Within a year,
Leonid acquired enough funds to open his own gallery and frame shop in Ashdod.