Ascension

Behind the Flight

Every time I fly over New York I'm reminded just how unpredictable the city can be. I'd spent months planning this flight and arrived a week early, hoping for one thing above everything else—a perfectly clear evening with just enough light after sunset to photograph Manhattan at twilight.

After six days of watching weather forecasts and walking the streets, I finally got my chance. Earlier that afternoon I'd been wandering through Lower Manhattan, looking up between the skyscrapers. Standing there, watching the buildings converge towards a single point above me, the idea for the photograph slowly evolved. I wanted to recreate that same perspective from above, looking straight down, with the pencil-like buildings leading your eye towards the centre of the frame.

We departed Westchester Airport in an AS-355 well before sunset, but the conditions were far from ideal. At altitude the helicopter was being buffeted by 60-knot winds, making it difficult to hold position over Manhattan. Air Traffic Control were fantastic, giving us unrestricted access from Central Park all the way to Wall Street, allowing us to slide backwards and forwards across the city while waiting for the light.

Twilight was everything. The photograph wasn't made at sunset. It was made during a fleeting one- or two-minute window after the sun had disappeared below the horizon. That's the moment I'd travelled halfway around the world to capture.

When the moment arrived, I stepped out into the open doorway of the helicopter, bracing myself against the wind and vibration while trying to keep the camera perfectly aligned beneath me. The pilot and aircraft were working hard, the light was disappearing by the second, and every exposure had to count. Despite the chaos around me, there was an incredible sense of calm the instant I looked through the viewfinder.

Ascension is the result of those few extraordinary moments. Looking vertically down, Manhattan becomes something entirely different. Streets disappear into shadow and light, skyscrapers stretch out from the centre of the frame, and one of the world's busiest cities transforms into an almost abstract composition of geometry, light and perspective.

As we flew back towards the airport, the evening delivered one final surprise. A Black Hawk helicopter quietly appeared behind us and stayed there for the remainder of the flight. We later discovered Australia's Prime Minister, Malcolm Turnbull, had just arrived in New York to meet then-President Trump, and the Secret Service wanted to make sure our very unusual-looking camera system wasn't something more concerning. It was a fitting end to a flight that had taken months to plan and constantly reminded me that no matter how well prepared you are, every aerial assignment has a story waiting to reveal itself.