“I see myself less as an artist and more as a craftsman,” says Sebastian Devenish, adjusting his chair in the quiet light of his home studio. With decades of photographic experience behind him, from sleek London studios to the depths of the Amazon rainforest, Devenish has witnessed firsthand the dramatic shifts in the world of photography. And yet, he remains steadfast in his commitment to the fundamentals: light, form, and above all, integrity.

His career has spanned the highly technical and the beautifully spontaneous. He began as a studio photographer, specialising in portraits, interiors, and commercial product shots – “the difficult stuff,” as he calls it. However, it was a friendship with explorer Mike Horn that unexpectedly drew him out of the studio and into some of the world’s wildest terrains, where he documented expeditions with a 35 mm camera and a reluctant sense of adventure. “I always joke that I was dragged out by a friend,” he says, laughing. “I’m not really the adventurous type.”

Still, Devenish adapted. He bought an entire 35 mm kit just to meet the demands of Horn’s expeditions and soon found himself navigating the distinct rhythm of field photography – a stark contrast to the controlled environment he was used to. “That kind of photography is all about storytelling.

But I always wanted to paint pictures, not just capture moments.”

In many ways, Devenish is a quiet observer in a world that increasingly rewards noise. He is well aware of the changing landscape – the rise of AI, the saturation of social media, and the shift toward hybrid image-makers who design and retouch as much as they shoot. “I think classical photography is dying,” he admits. “The challenge used to be how to get it right in one shot. Now everything is fixable. But I liked the challenge.”

And yet, despite his technical acumen – he speaks with casual authority about colour filtration, handheld flash configurations, and even wood-toned light balancing – he remains disarmingly humble. Marketing himself doesn’t come naturally. “I’m seriously bad at it,” he confesses. “Sometimes I just want to run the other way.”

What does come naturally, however, is an uncanny sensitivity to human behaviour. His reportage work at social events, often overlooked in favour of showier pursuits, reveals his talent for observation. “You start off awkwardly,” he says, “but then the room shifts. You see a man telling a story across the room, and you know – a punchline’s coming. That’s the moment. That’s when you dive in.”

For Devenish, the real reward lies in those unscripted glimpses of connection. And increasingly, in capturing something closer to home. His latest dream project, still waiting for funding and time, is titled Entre Amis/Zwischen Freunden and would focus on the people of the Saanenland and Pays-d’Enhaut. His vision is to create a portrait-led book that pairs residents from both sides of the linguistic border: the cheesemaker from the French-speaking side with his Swiss-German counterpart, the local families who live bilingual lives, the traditions that mirror each other more than they divide.

“Both valleys are like peninsulas of their cantons,” he reflects. “But they share the same river, the same mountains, and more in common than you’d think.”

It’s an ambitious project, not only for its cross-cultural resonance but for the logistical effort it will require. Still, if the right support comes along, Devenish is ready. Until then, he’ll be at the next local brocante, quietly selling his landscape prints and, with a little luck, sparking a conversation that might just turn into his next portrait.

And if you find one of his images hanging in a bathroom? Take it as a compliment. “That,” he smiles, “is where people really look.”

JEANETTE WICHMANN

www.sebastiandevenish.com