Photo by Margaret Fox / Courtesy of C. Parker Gallery

Cristina Mittermeier and Paul Nicklen merge art and advocacy. Based in Vancouver, but having traveled across the world for their art, they dedicate their lives to conservation efforts through fine art photography. With their cameras they are able to capture the important stories of animals, nature, humans, and the climate crisis. Their latest exhibit, Hope and Reverence: Cristina Mittermeier & Paul Nicklen, was curated by Tiffany Benincasa and shown at C. Parker Gallery during Climate Week NYC. Notably, the ocean holds a special place in the pair’s hearts, which lead them to create the ocean conservation organization SeaLegacy. To learn more about Cristina Mittermeier and Paul Nicklen, read on.

An interview for Jejune Magazine during Climate Week NYC, in collaboration with C. Parker Gallery.

Astrapia - by Cristina Mittermeier (photo courtesy of C. Parker Gallery)

You both come from a biology background. So, what came first – biology or photography? How did you know you wanted to merge the two? Was there an aha moment?
Paul: Biology came first for me. I was born and raised in the Canadian Arctic, surrounded by ice and animals long before I ever held a camera. Photography came later, as a way to share the magic of that world with people who would never experience it firsthand. I realized that science could explain why something mattered—but imagery could make people feel why it mattered.

Cristina: Same here. I studied marine biology in Mexico, but I kept bumping up against the limits of data to move hearts. When I first picked up a camera, I felt this click—literally and figuratively. Photography became the bridge between what I knew scientifically and what I felt emotionally. That was the moment I understood I could use art to make conservation irresistible.

I love that you two are married, what a perfect match! Do you often travel together on assignments? If so, how does that work? How do you make sure you are both capturing your own stories?
Cristina: We do travel together often, which is both wonderful and… let’s say “an exercise in perspective.” Two photographers can stand in the same place, at the same time, and see completely different worlds.

Paul: Cristina will turn her lens toward people—their faces, their rituals, their connection to the land—while I’ll be waist-deep in icy water, waiting for a seal to surface. We’re often looking in opposite directions, but somehow our work meets in the middle.

Cristina: That’s the beauty of it. We’re not duplicating each other’s stories; we’re expanding them. His reverence for the wild and my focus on our shared humanity are really two sides of the same conversation.

Master of the Mara - by Paul Nicklen (photo courtesy of C. Parker Gallery)

Congratulations on your new exhibition Hope and Reverence! It is a very powerful collection. How did you decide what images to include, and what do you hope viewers take away from it?
Cristina: The curation process was deeply personal. Hope represents humanity’s resilience and the potential for reconnection—with nature, with one another.

Paul: And Reverence is about humility before the wild. It’s the feeling of being small in the best possible way. We wanted visitors to walk through the gallery and feel both wonder and responsibility. The world is breathtaking—but it’s also fragile.

Cristina: If people leave with even one image that stays with them, that shifts how they see their own role in protecting the planet, then we’ve done our job.

Paul, you repeatedly seem to capture moments that seem surreal—and borderline dangerous—from penguins mid-flop to polar bears knocking on your door. What’s your secret to capturing these magical moments?
Paul: Patience and cold toes. Honestly, it’s about time spent in the field. Animals give you trust only after you’ve proven you’re not a threat. I spend days, sometimes weeks, just being present—quietly. When that trust happens, the magic moments unfold naturally. You can’t rush it; you can only earn it.

Fire and Ice - by Paul Nicklen (photo courtesy of C. Parker Gallery)

Cristina, I’m in awe of how you photograph both wildlife and humans with the same empathy. Why is this approach important to you? Do you approach photographing people differently from animals?
Cristina: Thank you. For me, it’s all about kinship. Whether it’s a whale or a young girl in the Omo Valley, I approach them with the same reverence. I’m not there to take something from them—I’m there to witness.

I believe Indigenous peoples hold knowledge we desperately need right now: how to live in balance with nature. When I photograph them, I want that dignity and wisdom to shine through. It’s not nostalgia—it’s a guide for the future.

Wild Flowers in My Hair - by Cristina Mittermeier (photo courtesy of C. Parker Gallery)

You both founded SeaLegacy, an incredible foundation dedicated to ocean conservation. Can you tell us about the inspiration behind it and the kind of work you do through it?
Paul: SeaLegacy began as a love letter to the ocean and a call to action. We wanted to move beyond publishing beautiful stories that ended on the page.

Cristina: Exactly. We built SeaLegacy to turn storytelling into tangible impact—connecting the emotional power of imagery with the machinery of real change. We’ve helped create marine protected areas, supported local conservation heroes, and built campaigns that give communities tools to protect their own ecosystems.

Paul: It’s storytelling in the service of survival.

Cristina, you once said you started SeaLegacy because a story would end after publication, but the people and places in it still needed help. What can journalists do to ensure the causes they cover continue to get support?
Cristina: Don’t walk away when the story’s filed. Use your platform to keep the spotlight alive—return, update, follow through. Journalism has immense power to shape public will, but only if we treat it as an ongoing relationship, not a one-off headline.

What particular causes do you both feel have been forgotten once the news cycle moved on?
Paul: The polar regions are always slipping in and out of attention. Yet what happens there affects every coastline on Earth.

Cristina: And small island and coastal communities. They’re on the front lines of climate change, but rarely in the news once the storm passes. We try to use our cameras to keep those stories visible long after the spotlight fades.

What is your motto in life?
Cristina: Hope is not naïve—it’s necessary.

Paul: And if you’re not getting cold or scared now and then, you’re probably not doing anything that matters.