Goodwood Estate. Here, where a rousing festival usually draws the rapt attention of summer crowds, British photographer Amy Shore painstakingly choreographs a celebration of light and shapes. A solo for two: Amy and the Porsche Taycan—a photographic essay in black and white.

Born in Leicestershire, not far from the Mallory Park racing circuit, British photographer Amy Shore is admittedly fond of country roads, red phone booths, and pubs. We meet her outside an elegant white gate in Westhampnett near Chichester in the south of England. Within, we find the expansive grounds of the estate of the Duke of Richmond. His family home, Goodwood House, has a garden so large that a racetrack fits inside it. The place is a mecca in the world of classic motorsports, with the Goodwood Revival celebrating race cars and traditional attire from the 1940s to the 1960s. The Goodwood Festival of Speed was due to take place here a few weeks ago. Had it done so, modern and classic vehicles would have spent several days driving up the 1.16-mile hill climb circuit. It would have been loud and exciting, with the meadows full of jovial spectators. All that remains is the subjunctive mood and the unusually tall grass blanketing the grounds. It almost seems as if you can hear it growing. Silence.

Shore gets out of the Volcano Grey Porsche Taycan Turbo. A brown leather harness crisscrosses her back. “I know it looks like a horse’s bridle, but it’s perfect because it allows me to keep both cameras at my fingertips without them banging into each other.” The twenty-nine-year-old grabs the Nikon D6 on her right hip, 35-millimeter lens, focuses on the sports car at the racetrack’s starting line, and presses the shutter button. “I love first-class lenses. This one here gives the viewer the feeling of being right there at the scene of the event.” On the left side of the leather harness hangs a Nikon D850 with an 85-millimeter lens. “It’s my favorite focal length for close-ups,” says Shore. She received her first Nikon camera from her parents at the age of sixteen. Her father, a paint spray technician by profession, passed down his passion for photography to his daughter. “I never thought I’d be able to make a living doing this. That’s why I studied metal- and silversmithing,” she says. “I earned my pocket money as a wedding photographer.” One summer day in 2013, she was commissioned to photograph a replica of a classic car. “I didn’t know anything about cars,” Shore confesses. She recalls an adage by business tycoon Richard Branson that sometimes you just have to do something and learn from the experience. “I have followed that advice ever since.” The job was the beginning of her career and the development of her own personal style. Known as Amy Style in the industry, it has become shorthand for the particular intimacy and authenticity embodied by her photos. Today, for example, the sky is wonderfully grey and dramatic. Shore looks for an imaginary picture frame for her composition of light, color, and form. She does not use artificial light or flash—the result would be too unreal for her taste. “As long as my eyes can still see, my cameras can capture that exact picture. I like honest photography.”

Shore aims to meld the beauty of the landscape with the modernity of the sports car. Ferns swaying cinematically in the wind find a new grounding in reflections in the shiny surface of the car. Again and again she looks the Taycan in the eye. As the light fades, she sits cross-legged in front of her subject, scrolls through her pictures, and looks up with a smile. The headlights go out. It’s almost as if the Taycan is saying thank you contentedly.

By Christina Rahmes
Photos by Amy Shore, Craig Callum