Zia Manji has set himself apart in the field of photography. His portfolio boasts breathtaking black-and-white waterscapes, inspired by the belief that “water is a means through which a sense of personal balance can be achieved.”

Back in his primary days, Zia’s school associated art with paintings, something he wasn’t too good at. “My motivation was drawn from wanting to be the first kid to have a black-and-white image on the school magazine’s cover.” And once he achieved that, there was no turning back.

Zia started off as an analog photographer and, after a decade, he had found his niche. However, the turn of this century heralded the slow death of traditional dark rooms for developing pictures. By 2009, Zia had moved into digital sphere, yet still remained true to his analog roots. “I process all my images on a computer, but limit any skill that could be imitated in the dark room,” he says, setting himself apart from “Photoshopping”, often applied in modern photography.

Zia’s care and precision is particularly evident in some of his images that speak of the oft-unnoticed power of reflections on water—a lone dhow in Zanzibar anchored in the middle of the ocean, the mirroring of the world-famous St. Mark’s Square in the canals of Venice, or cascading waterfalls in Kenya’s own Karura Forest.

All of these black-and-white photos exude movement, a specific impression of water and sky. Zia achieves this effect by mounting his digital camera on a tripod. He then uses long exposures of up to 10 minutes to capture minute details not seen by the naked eye. “Equilibrium: A Moment in Solitude”, Zia’s debut exhibition held this past June at the Michael Joseph Centre, displayed his solitary pursuit of subjects cohabiting with water. (The artist plans to donate approximately KES 1 million from sales of “Equilibrium” images to charity.)

A globetrotter of note, Zia continues to travel around the world to photograph more waterscapes, enthralled by their aesthetic qualities. Over time, he has developed a personal relationship with his motifs. “Sometimes I have to sit and stare at a waterscape for a whole afternoon,” Zia admits, “and [then] return to photograph [in] the morning, or otherwise [I] end up feeling like I’ve invaded its privacy.”

For more information on Zia Manji, visit www.ziamanji.com.