Keene Fine Art Photography

08/29/2026

The Citroën 2CV was designed for a very practical reason: to give ordinary French families and farmers an inexpensive car that could handle rough rural roads. Its suspension was famously engineered to cross a ploughed field carrying a basket of eggs without breaking them.

Decades later, I gave this little blue one a very different job.

I booked it through 2CVParisTour.com and explained that I wanted to photograph a 2CV throughout Paris rather than take the standard tour. My driver knew the city extraordinarily well and used that knowledge to get us to locations that would actually work photographically. He even showed us the exceptional suspension on a few speed bumps. What an amazing car!

This stop was Odette on Rue Galande.

I photographed the series with my Fujifilm X-E3 and a 1975 Leica 28mm lens. Nearly fifty-year-old Leica glass felt like the right choice for photographing one of the most recognizable pieces of French automotive design ever made.

With Citroën returning to the 2CV story this year, the timing feels especially right to bring these photographs back out.

The full Paris 2CV series is available for commercial, advertising, editorial and campaign licensing. This image, along with others from the series, is also available as a fine-art print.

Prints + licensing: link in bio. (keenefine.art)

Citroën Citroën.deutschland Leica Camera 2CVParisTour.com betcparis

https://keenephoto.com/portfolio?c=2cv

08/29/2026

Two French icons, one frame.

A vintage Citroën 2CV beneath the Eiffel Tower, photographed in Paris with another piece of photographic history: my Canadian-made 1975 Leica 28mm lens.

With Citroën preparing to unveil a new electric model inspired by the 2CV this October, I’ve been revisiting the series I photographed with this little blue icon around Paris.

There is something fitting about photographing a design that has survived generations through a lens that has done exactly the same thing.

Citroën, if the next chapter of the 2CV needs imagery from the original, this series is available for commercial, editorial, advertising and campaign licensing.

Fine-art prints are also available through my website.

Licensing + prints: keenefine.art

Citroën Citroën.deutschland Leica Camera Serge Ramelli

08/15/2026

Someone commented on my ad: “What absolute egotistical BS.”

Which is kind of fascinating, because the ad says:

Real art leaves a trail.

That’s it.

It doesn’t say AI artists aren’t artists. It doesn’t even mention AI.

But apparently we’ve reached the point where saying a photograph came from a real place, at a real time, through a camera, with a photographer standing behind it can be interpreted as an attack.

And THAT is exactly why I’m talking about provenance.

AI is getting very, very good. Soon, “but I can tell” isn’t going to be much of an argument. In plenty of cases, it already isn’t.

So the distinction won’t be whether an image looks real.

It will be whether there is a trail behind it.

A place. A date. A camera. A RAW file. The frames before and after. The ridiculous drive. The weather that refused to cooperate. The mosquito that considered you dinner. Evidence that somebody actually went somewhere and made the photograph.

I have no idea whether the gentleman who left this comment makes AI art. Maybe he does. Maybe he just really hates declarative advertising.

Either way, he accidentally demonstrated the point better than I did.

When “this actually happened” becomes controversial, provenance starts to matter a whole lot more.

This print is for sale, btw. Dm for info.

08/06/2026

Your avant-basic apartment deserves one thing older than TikTok.

Preferably French. Definitely blue.

Swipe for the photograph. Find it here: https://keenefine.art/products/cadence

Open to licensing. Citroën
,

07/18/2026

Well, the verdict is in: Fibonacci Mine was published on 1x.com anyway.

The darkness stayed. The circles stayed exactly where I put them. The anonymous manifesto did not carry the vote.

Haters gonna hate. Curators gonna publish.

07/17/2026

“Too dark, too imprecise. The space is disorganized. Abstraction needs pornography.”
— Anonymous 1x curator

I have no idea what that last sentence means, but 86% of member curators and 67% of expert curators were positive.

The circles are still exactly where I put them.

07/12/2026

The sky over Paris was flatter than a gluten-free pancake. So at 6 a.m., I wedged a giant van into a city apparently designed for bicycles, baguettes, and vehicles the size of handbags, grabbed a 10mm lens, and stood beneath the Arc de Triomphe craning my neck like I had dropped a contact lens on the ceiling.

Apparently, the chiropractic consequences were worth it. This photograph was just awarded on 1x.com, making it my 13th 1x awarded image.

It also gives me a decent excuse to introduce my new portfolio:

See Axiom for yourself on https://keenephoto.com/portfolio

"Always look up", as Scott Kelby would say.

06/28/2026

Remember Venice before the day starts, when the only people out are photographers and the occasional confused pigeon.
Hospitale — the Scuola Grande di San Marco at first light, the canal still enough to mirror all that marble. I was on that bridge at an hour no sane person volunteers for, which is exactly why the water looks like glass and nobody's in the shot.

Turns out UCP International Magazine liked it too. Published this month, Issue 2, with their Award of Excellence. I'll take it — genuinely grateful, a little surprised, and fully aware the real prize was the empty bridge and the light showing up on time for once.
Hospitale joins the Venice collection. Reserve yours at keenefine.art, before the pigeon gets ideas.

05/12/2026

Remember what it felt like to drift. Sun on your face, the slow rock of the deck under you, salt in the air, the kind of warmth that softens your shoulders before you notice it has. Nowhere to be. Nothing pulling at you. Just the light moving the way light moves when no one is timing it.

The ones who know that feeling collect the moments it lives in.

I want it back → https://keenefine.art/products/mouillage

From above, the cove looks like a held breath. Four boats rest on their lines. What reads as shadow beneath each hull is the boat itself, returned on a seafloor so clear the water has stopped pretending to be opaque. Seagrass writes in a language only the tide can read. The ropes hold. The sea shift...

04/12/2026

Zaanse Schans did not hand this to me. I had to fight for it.

Google Maps kept trying to send a full-size van down bike paths and the wrong way onto one-way streets like it had a personal grudge. The weather played its usual little game of “maybe” until nearly the end. Then, because apparently the trip needed one more plot twist, my Newpowa solar panel started coming apart.

So I did what photographers in parking lots and campgrounds have done since the dawn of bad timing: found a hardware store, bought screws and tools, and fixed it myself at camp.

And then this happened.

The sky finally broke open over the Zaanse Schans windmills in a wash of violet, rose, and fire, like the Netherlands apologizing without actually saying the words.

For the record, this likely is not the exact untouched windmill Rembrandt painted. The mills here have a complicated history of rebuilding, restoration, and relocation. But De Kat does stand on a site with roots going back to the 1600s, and pigments are still made here using Rembrandt-era recipes.

Which feels fitting.

Nothing about this trip was easy. Not the roads. Not the weather. Not the repairs. But every now and then, after enough wrong turns and enough stubbornness, the world gives you five quiet minutes that make the rest of the mess shut up.

This was one of them.