In front of us lies Piz Zupò, a summit rising to 3996 metres above sea level, straddling the border between Italy and Switzerland. The second-highest peak in the Bernina massif, this mountain lives up to its Romansh name, which means "hidden". Concealed on the Swiss side, it escapes view. Piz Zupò doesn't reach the 4,000 metres so coveted by mountaineers, and this modest difference in altitude deprives it of the glory it richly deserves.

Our journey begins on the left, with Monte Bellavista Occidentale setting the scene. Our gaze then glides to this fabulous ridge forming a half-moon. A graceful, mystical curve, it seems to have been drawn by a divine hand to link the earthly with the celestial. This sinuous line plays with clouds and wind. At the center of the work sits Piz Zupò, the protagonist. It elegantly defies the sky. To its right stands Piz Argient, 3945 metres above sea level.

I've dreamed of this work for so many years. In my mind's eye, that special angle would reveal the quintessence of its beauty, highlighting its bold reliefs, chiselled ridges, suspended glaciers and abyssal crevasses. These ridges, so often trodden by mountaineers, have made the Bernina shine through the ages. I wanted to unite snow and rock in perfect harmony. I wanted to offer this magical journey. I wanted to share with you a testimony to a world of purity and grandeur.

To take this photograph of Piz Zupò, patience was my most faithful ally. Days and months passed. I scrutinized the sky, analyzed the movements of the clouds, studied the light. Some people call it chance, but I prefer to think of it as the meeting of perseverance and intuition. You have to believe in moments of grace for them to deign to manifest themselves. Guided by this conviction, I relentlessly track down those precious moments when the mountain agrees to reveal its true nature. This is how I approach my art, as a mountaineer approaches a route - with respect, determination and the ability to seize the opportunity when it finally presents itself.