An impressive wall in the Monte Rosa massif, the Lyskamm is one of the most feared giants in the Alps. Its serac-ridden north face rises like a fierce, vertical rampart of ice. In the early hours of the morning, as autumn shadows stretch across the mountain, the first rays of sunlight graze its relief. The seracs sparkle, revealing shifting shapes, as if the mountain were awakening from a long sleep.

In the background, the Matterhorn is already shining in the brighter light. The icon of the Valais rises, a timeless pyramid in dialogue with the Lyskamm. Two majestic silhouettes face each other, two singular but inseparable characters, united by the same quest for light. The verticality of the Lyskamm, accentuated by its tapered edges, contrasts with the elegance of the Matterhorn, which rises to the horizon. Between these two giants, my gaze wanders, fascinated by the raw, untamed beauty of the high mountains.

The Lyskamm, sometimes nicknamed the "Man-Eater" because of the tragedies that have occurred in its corridors, embodies all the ambivalence of the Alps. Sublime and terrifying, fragile and fearsome. Climbing its ridges is a challenge in which vigilance must never fail.

In this black-and-white mountain picture, I wanted to convey the tension between power and light. The icy rigor of the seracs and the softness of an autumn dawn. A vision both grandiose and ephemeral, a tribute to the Lyskamm and its eternal dialogue with the Matterhorn.