Reaching Antarctica felt unreal—an impossible dream finally made tangible. Days crossing the Drake Passage brought isolation, silence, and a rising sense of triumph. Standing at the edge of the world, excitement eclipsed uncertainty. Even after the later tragedy of the Hondius, the journey remains one of the most powerful experiences of my life.

featuring Gabriel Roux as Artist of the Month, Issue 09 of Light & Paper marks the beginning of our new bi-monthly rhythm. With contributions from Rodrigo Rangel de Alba and Jorge Sotomayor, this edition expands the conversation around photography, experience, and global perspective.

Photography, at its best, reveals not only what we see but how we live. For Francisco Malave, the act of photographing is inseparable from the act of being present with people, whether in a nightclub at 2 a.m. or at the heart of the streets, his images are less about freezing moments than about transmitting the energy contained within them.

Some photographers look for silence; others seek out the storm. Francisco Malave belongs to the second kind. His lens finds humanity where it burns brightest, on the streets, in the clubs, in the midst of protest and spectacle. He photographs people not as static subjects but as living characters, radiating confidence, vulnerability, humor, and defiance.

Carolina’s earliest encounters with photography were fueled by curiosity and a love of visual storytelling. She would lose herself in the vivid imagery of magazines. By the time she reached high school, she was actively experimenting and snapping scenes with her phone and the digital cameras that were beginning to shape her love to tell stories through her lens.

Carolina Madrigal’s photography lives in two worlds. In one, there is the deliberate pace of film, the solid weight of a Canon AE1, the mechanical click of its shutter, the anticipation of waiting to see what a roll will reveal. In the other, there is the immediacy of digital, the versatility of her Canon RP, the freedom to adapt on the fly, the satisfaction of seeing an image seconds after it’s made.

That instinct to observe, compose, and distill; would eventually guide him to the still image. It happened during a black-and-white photography class at Columbia College Chicago, taken to fulfill a graduation requirement. What began as coursework became a calling. “Little did I know,” he says, “this would start me down a path of photography as a passion.”

Joe photographs with the eye of a director, drawn to quiet drama and the gestures of everyday life. He speaks of story as a living thing, shaped by light, space, and human presence. “The world moves,” he says. My job is to freeze moments and tell a story. He favors observation over orchestration, letting curiosity guide the lens. If that curiosity makes someone feel sad, happy, uncomfortable, or even angry, that’s their truth. And mine was the curiosity to make the image to

Carlos Rivera listens for the silence cities offer, the hush between footsteps and steel. Through his lens, the ordinary becomes spacious, composed, and deeply human. His restrained images reveal rhythm, geometry, and story in overlooked corners. Printed on Hahnemühle FineArt paper, each photograph honors stillness and devotion, a quiet pursuit of meaning through repetition, patience, and light.

Rodrigo Rangel de Alba has spent 35 years crossing borders and capturing stillness in motion. A French-Mexican photojournalist who’s visited every country on Earth, his lens reveals quiet gestures and fleeting expressions. Light & Paper proudly honors Rodrigo as our inaugural Artist of the Month, celebrating a body of work that connects not continents, but people.

Rodrigo Rangel de Alba has seen every country on Earth—not as a tourist, but as a witness. His portraits, captured over decades, reflect identity as lived experience: quiet gestures, fleeting expressions, and moments of trust. As Lux Photo Lab’s ambassador, Rodrigo prints on Hahnemühle Fine Art papers, preserving presence with dignity. His work reminds us that identity isn’t bound by borders—it’s written in light.