Gazing at Anne Geier’s portraits of man’s best friend against a backdrop of dramatic scenery in Iceland and other Nordic countries, it’s hard to believe the canine-inspired Austrian photographer is entirely self-taught.
“My goal was to become a good dog photographer, to make it maybe as a side job,” Geier, 36, told The Epoch Times, having turned professional just a few years ago.
The dog and nature lover grew up spending much time outdoors. For her majestic shots of wild locations around Iceland, Geier credits her father as a huge inspiration, having instilled a passion for hiking and photography in her.
“He always created photos from our adventures and soon I recognized how valuable those photos were,” she said. “So at the age of 10, I started to take photos on my own.”
Enlisting her very first dog, Cindy, as a subject and making use of a compact analog film camera, she always found it “a big surprise” how well the photos turned out.
Fast forward to May 2022, Geier realized a dream: traveling to Iceland for a photo trip; it was an adventure she will never forget. Having seen many images of the country, she knew how breathtaking it was but nothing prepared her for the real thing.
“There were so many strong feelings to cope with,” she said. “There are places in Iceland that are not from this earth; the landscape sometimes looks unreal. Being in front of all those miracles is something completely different.”
When she reached the glacial lagoon of Jökulsárlón, Iceland’s deepest lake, her eyes overflowed with tears.
“I have never seen anything more beautiful in my life,“ she said. ”I was really surprised about and so thankful for the kindness of the Icelandic people. Even though they didn’t know me they traveled for hours just to take photos with me.”
Her meticulous organization, planning photoshoots with different dogs in certain spots, and being blessed with great weather ticked all the boxes, yet Geier knew she had to return.
So the following September, she returned to visit Vestrahorn Mountain and witness the glittering glacial ice scattered across Diamond Beach.
At both places, the mood was “fabulous,“ she said, adding how on Diamond Beach this time ”there was a lot of ice, really big and blue ice blocks,“ and at Vestrahorn they had ”the perfect conditions to create moody photos because it rained a lot and the mountains were covered in fog.”
Geier calls the Alpine region of Salzkammergut home—known for its shimmering, mountain-rimmed lakes, perfect for her kind of photography. She has two beloved Romanian rescue dogs, Finn and Yuri, both of which have starred in some of her best pictures.
One, entitled “Majestic Dolomites,” involved a 2:30 a.m. start, a treacherous drive along a rough single-track road, and a challenging hike.
“Many people don’t realize that, behind the photos, there is so much more going on than just releasing the shutter,” she said. There is also the planning, repeated visits to locations, long travels, and exhausting hikes before sunrise—while most people are sleeping.
Another Geier calls “The Door to a Fairy-tale World” means everything to her, because her achieving the image in her mind—a portrait of Finn with a waterfall backdrop in a cave—was so tough.
“We found this magical waterfall by chance in Italy on our way to see the mother of my boyfriend,” Geier said. “There was a lot of spray and it was extremely loud in the cave.
“I pressed my body completely to the rocks to use every little space; Finn and I were completely wet after a few minutes. I just could make a few photos then I had to clean my camera again because it was completely wet, too. I am still so proud that Finn did such a fantastic job.”
Patience and observation are essential in becoming a successful animal photographer, said Geier, who formally studied geography and urban development before taking the plunge into full-time photography in 2018.
Now, she undertakes paid photoshoots around Europe and conducts private coaching and workshops. Teaching students to create a comfortable zone for the dog, to read him and understand his body language, and to take the moments he presents, she emphasizes: “To create good photos, you definitely don’t need an obedient dog that stands or sits still like a statue.”
She takes care to apply the right technical skill to each situation: composition, perspective, exposure, and depth of field. Each skill she acquired through a process: try, fail, learn, repeat.
“Every dog is unique,“ she said. ”I was able to learn something from every single dog, and every single photoshoot has taken me a step further.”
Geier never imagined photography would become her main job. She is both humbled and thrilled by people’s responses to her work. Most are fascinated and can’t wait to see more while giving wonderful feedback, she said. Others don’t believe such places are real; they have asked if her work is produced in Photoshop.
No, she employs minimal post-processing, she said. Though she gives due credit: “[My work] would not have been possible without the amazing dogs and also the lovely Icelandic people.”
The scenes she shoots sometimes appear dangerous—they are indeed challenging to shoot—though no dogs were ever placed at risk.
The Skógafoss waterfall is monstrously huge, she said. The sound is deafening, the space is filled with spray, and the crowds of people exploring the surroundings are abundant. Most dogs would find it hard to bear.
Some are exceptions, though. Húgó, the fluffy, characterful Samoyed she photographed there wasn’t fazed at all.
“He was just focused on his owner and did a fantastic job,” Geier said.
