Specialist Aerial Cinematography

CNN wanted a film that made the Greenland look amazing. I had a handful of days to create something special in one of the most inhospitable places on the planet.

So I started studying. I watched the light. Read the wind. Learned the rhythms of ice and sea. I thought through every shot and every move and prepared my kit, building new drones for extreme environments no one had operated in.

People said my ideas were too ambitious. Many they laughed at. Flying in icy winds at Summit Station? Getting close to Helheim’s walls of ice with a drone? Wildlife shots in a narrow timeframe? Interviews in ridiculous locations? Impossible. Not worth it.

Then, early in the trip, Greenland made its point.
We were out on a glacier getting shots of melting ice. A fellow photographer took one step… and vanished. Without warning or drama he dropped into a hidden ravine, a hole disguised by snow, the only thing that stopped him was the tripod he was holding. It snagged the edge and he was left dangling in mid-air.

I didn’t have time to think, I got down flat, crawled to the lip, grabbed him so hard he complained I was hurting him, and hauled him out inch by inch, thinking the ice could give way under both of us at any second.

When he was safe, I looked down into the hole. Hundreds of feet below there was a fast-moving river of water ripping straight under the ice sheet. That was the wake-up call. One wrong move and you’d be under the glacier. Gone.

Then the cold, with lows of -50°C it's so cold it’s dangerous. Camping is brutal. One morning I woke to find my mouth literally frozen shut. Batteries died in seconds. Touching the air was painful.

Back at sea level we were on a speedboat punching through ice, windchill from hell, salt spray freezing wherever it landed. I’d planned for cold but this was something else.

Then the wildlife, all of it beautiful but unpredictable. You earn fleeting opportunities by watching, waiting and learning behaviour, but we had to do it in a compressed timeframe.

Somewhere in the middle of the creaking ice, numbed fingers, constant calculation of risk I started pushing. What’s the point of dreaming it if you don’t actually do it?

Helheim Glacier was a challenge. A cathedral of ice to fly into. Summit Station's cold was something to document. I kept chasing the shots I’d been told were too ambitious because I knew what the story needed.

Greenland doesn’t just test your skill it tests your judgement and patience.

The result was worth it.
We made a portrait of a territory that is now in the crosshairs of global politics, showing it as it actually is: colossal, fragile, violent, beautiful. A place that demands payment in blood, sweat and tears before it gives anything back.

We did it against the odds, the elements and a glacier that nearly swallowed one of us whole; I was fortunate that it led to my first Emmy nomination for ‘Outstanding Video Journalism in News’.

A reminder that nothing good comes easy.

Technical Note: Filming at Summit Station and Helheim Glacier required bespoke, winterised drone builds to operate at -50°C. High-altitude and sub-zero battery management protocols were developed specifically for this Emmy-nominated CNN assignment.

This is Venice.

CNN wanted a film that made the city feel alive. They wanted it breathing and moving, busy yet beautiful.

If you’ve been you’ll know, if you haven’t, Venice is a unique place, a city on the water and one of the most beautiful, yet challenging, locations on earth.

I had a couple of days to create something special in one of the most complicated airspace you can operate a drone. Water everywhere. Tight spaces. Tourists, boats, bridges, wires, wind tunnelling through alleyways. Nowhere to “just land.” No margin for error.

Safety is always the primary concern, so I started studying - literally. I needed extra qualifications just to fly in the airspace. I took exams. Got the licences. Did paperwork. Planned routes. Built kit around the reality of Venice, not the fantasy of it.

I was operating in a GPS-denied environment, flying between stone walls with wind tunnels often with no place to land except a moving boat. One mistake and the drone is at the bottom of a canal.

Beyond the dangers was the the pressure of the clock. Venice is light. Venice is reflection. Venice is rhythm. Miss the moment and the city turns flat. Hit the moment and it lives.

So I watched the sun and the shadows. I tracked the flow of boats. I learned when streets filled and emptied and when the canals opened. I built the film shot by shot, move by move, from sunrise to sunset.

I kept chasing the shots in my mind, the ones that showed Venice in motion. The wake cutting through gold water. The city folding in close around you. The texture, the speed, the life between the landmarks.

This is the result, a portrait of the city as it lives and breathes: beautiful, chaotic, delicate… alive. Have you ever been?

(DM for commissions, shoots or just to chat about projects you're working on that might need epic cinematic shots and aerials.)