Across moorland fog, coastal shadows, limestone terraces and jungle peaks, this body of work captures the lingering presence of women whose names were never fully erased — only buried beneath stone, salt, and time. This is a reclamation. Using the Victorian photographic process known as wet plate collodion, each image is created through a slow, alchemical ritual. Gun-cotton, ether, iodide salts, and silver form this composite vision: a woman’s world, drawn from landscapes across continents. It is not one place, not one story, but many.

 This piece was photographed across eleven locations around the world, these are places of beauty but also of constraint. In each country, millions of women are denied equal rights to land and property. In Vietnam and Thailand, patriarchal inheritance customs persist despite progressive laws. In Turkey and Bosnia, gender-based violence remains high, and legal rights often go unenforced. In Portugal, strides in equity are still shadowed by gaps in ownership. Even in the UK, women still hold less than half of the privately owned land , legacy of centuries of exclusion. The landscapes in this work are not passive backdrops, but active witnesses — bearing the weight of women’s care and labour, and too often, their silence. These terrains speak a global truth: that women’s relationships to land are ancient, resilient, and ongoing .Yet still under threat.

In the layered textures of collodion, salt, and silver, the land begins to speak. And her name is remembered. Where the Land Knows Her Name envisions a world in which women are recognised not as symbols, but as rightful stewards, bearers of knowledge, resilience, and rootedness. Salt preserves. Silver reflects. Together, they hold memory with weight and clarity. Each plate becomes a document of place, and of the women connected to it, named or unnamed, visible or obscured. Challenging the idea of possession, resisting forgetting and reclaiming presence, Across continents and cultures, women are still denied the ground beneath their feet.

This work is a response to that denial.

A refusal to let the feminine be erased, in law, in land, or in legacy.