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There’s a unique beauty in the world of ballet—an art form where strength and fragility coexist in perfect harmony. It’s this duality...

A couple of weeks ago, the photographer, James Glossop, came to my studio, or perhaps more accurately described, my garage, where I work as a figurative sculptor. It was a beautiful day and the sunshine was trying to break through the small windows, a beam of light bringing the collection of sculptures – various portraits, busts and figures – to life.

It was the late 1970s, when I was just six years old, that I had first sight of a piece of sculpture that fired my imagination and has stayed with me to this day. Once a year, usually for the summer holidays, we would take the bus to visit my grandparents in the town of Korҫa, Albania. The town was only 170 miles away from where we lived in Saranda, but, during those days of Communist rule, it took eleven to thirteen hours to get there, as the roads and buses were so poorly m