I want to know how your place feels.

I am Nadine, a photographer based in Switzerland.

I began with newborns, children and families, long before wildlife and remote places became such a large part of my work. The subject changed, but the instinct did not: I like to understand what I am looking at before I decide how to photograph it.

That earlier work taught me you cannot force everything into a photograph. Sometimes you watch, wait and adjust until a few seconds come together on their own. A hand. An expression.

I am naturally gentle and quite observant, extremely focused when I am working, and considerably louder once I feel at home.

I have always loved animals and children, and I love travelling somewhere I have never been and learning what is there.

Different countries, traditions, communities, food, landscapes, ways of working and ways of living all fascinate me. I am curious by nature, and I am usually happiest when I have enough time to explore without already knowing exactly what I am going to find.

I like laughing with the people I photograph. I ask questions. I get very excited about beautiful light and tiny details. I will probably notice something in the corner of a room that nobody thought was important, then spend ten minutes photographing it because somehow it says something about the place.

Before I start photographing, I like to understand what matters to the people who know the place best.

I do not want to arrive with the same checklist I used somewhere else.

Then I photograph from there.

I am interested in more than what a place looks like.

Of course the rooms matter. The architecture matters. The food, landscape, wildlife and design matter.

But I am also looking for the feeling around them.

The first light entering a room. Someone preparing breakfast before the guests arrive. The excitement before heading out. The quiet after coming back. Firelight at dinner. Rain moving across the landscape. A familiar face waiting when you return. Something happening outside after dark.

I want the photographs to carry some of the experience of being there, not simply prove what is there.

I do not think every property needs the same photographs.

I want you to recognise your place in the photographs, not simply my style.

The people behind a place matter to me just as much as the finished result.

Someone setting a table. A chef concentrating in the kitchen. A guide between sightings. A gardener. A carpenter. A carer. Someone preparing something long before a guest ever sees it.

I work quietly around people. I talk to them, let them continue what they are doing and wait for things to become natural again.

I do not want staff to feel like props in photographs of a beautiful property.

They are part of the place too, and I want that to show in the photographs.

One of my favourite parts is showing someone the photograph afterwards.

Seeing them smile, or seeing how proud they are to have their work represented beautifully, genuinely makes my day.

I am not the photographer who needs to take over a room to get the photograph.

But I also want time when nothing is being staged.

That is when I begin noticing how people actually move through the place, what happens between the planned photographs and which moments keep repeating naturally.

Some of my favourite images happen there.

I could spend a very long time simply watching animals.

Photography gives me a reason to stay with something longer than I probably otherwise would.

Sometimes that means waiting for hours.

Sometimes it means photographing a tiny interaction while something much more dramatic is happening somewhere else.

I like that.

The more time I spend around animals, the more interested I become in the quieter behaviour as well as the spectacular moments.

I do my best work when I have enough time to settle into the rhythm of a place.

The longer I stay, the less I photograph from a list and the more I begin to photograph what makes the place itself.

I love travelling, and I genuinely enjoy working far from home. A city hotel. A lodge in the mountains. A small island. A conservancy. A remote camp reached after hours on rough roads. The more unfamiliar the place, the more curious I usually become.

If you have built somewhere special, are supporting a project you believe in, or simply want photographs that show why your place matters, I would love to hear about it.

Tell me about the place, the people and the work behind it.