Seaside: Here and There

Coastal life and the people drawn to it have always captivated me. Families basking in the sun, children playing in the sand, couples strolling along the promenade with ice cream—these scenes feel embedded in my DNA. Growing up in the Canary Islands, the sea was always in sight, a daily constant. The sea lives in my retina. It wasn’t until I moved to Leeds, in the heart of Yorkshire, that I felt its absence. I began asking people, “How long has it been since you’ve seen the sea?” a question that seemed strange to those who hadn’t grown up with it as a backdrop.

My first visit to Scarborough felt like a discovery. The beach was beautiful, familiar yet new. While there were the common scenes of families enjoying the sun, there were also unexpected elements: children riding donkeys, men scanning the sand with metal detectors, windbreakers shielding families from the breeze—scenes I hadn’t encountered back home. Inspired, I started exploring other Yorkshire coastal towns like Whitby, Filey, Robin Hood’s Bay, and Thornwick Bay. The contrasts were striking, not only in people’s beachside habits but in the landscapes themselves: expansive beaches at low tide, lush greenery edging the shore, and towering cliffs.

Comparing Yorkshire’s coast to Tenerife’s became an ongoing study in contrasts and similarities. I was drawn to the colors, lines, and ways families arrange themselves on the sand—the unique compositions of each place. Pairing these images became my way of exploring what “seaside” means, both here and there. Whether it’s Yorkshire or Tenerife, ‘here’ or ‘there,’ each image captures a shared connection to the sea, colored by place and perspective.