Jamie is my guitar student.
But guitar is only one part of who she is.
She also plays the guzheng and is currently preparing for the Grade 9 examination under the Central Conservatory of Music in China. Since childhood, she has received stage training and developed herself through music and dance. Beyond the guitar and guzheng, she dances ballet, ethnic dance and contemporary dance.
There is something beautiful about watching a young person discover how many different ways the body can speak.
Before she leaves for further studies in September 2026, we arranged a portrait session — not simply to photograph her as a dancer, but to leave behind a small record of who she was at this moment of her life.
She wore a red, 270-degree full skirt, standing against the weathered colours of a century-old historic building.
The setting was simple.
The lighting was quiet and restrained.
As cello music played softly from Spotify, she began to dance.
For a moment, the old walls, the light, the movement of the skirt and the slender lines of her body seemed to belong to another time.
Most of the images in this series are presented in black and white, with colour appearing only occasionally. Perhaps this is because I wanted to strip away the distractions and leave behind something more enduring — the movement, the light, and the person within the frame.
I have photographed Jamie before as a musician.
This time, I wanted to see another side of her.
Not the girl holding a guitar.
Not the student preparing for examinations.
But a young woman standing at the beginning of a much larger journey.
Photography, like dance, is about time.
A dancer moves through a moment and leaves nothing behind except memory. A photograph holds that moment still, allowing us to return to it years later.
Perhaps that is why I wanted to make this series before she leaves.
One day, after completing her studies, perhaps she will return home as a dancer, a teacher, an artist who has found her own stage.
And perhaps, years from now, she will look at these photographs again.
She may no longer remember the music that was playing that afternoon.
She may no longer remember exactly how the light fell across the old wall.
But she may remember this girl—the girl she once was, before she left home to chase a dream.
That is what I hope these photographs will become.
Not simply portraits of a young dancer.
But a small mark of youth, preserved before departure.
A beginning, before the journey.
La Bayadère.
A dance before departure.
