Angela Boehm grew up in rural Saskatchewan, where winter was not so much a season as a long condition of white. In 2021 she began photographing snowstorms there under a rule of her own making: she would work only at minus thirty degrees Celsius or colder. That constraint gives the project its title and its discipline. The storms erase horizon lines and swallow landmarks; what remains is snow against snow, the heaviness of cold air, and the solitude of standing in it.

Boehm is the photographer, and she is also one of the book’s authors. She treats this environment as something more than inhospitable. Beneath the severity she finds fragility: a winter that once seemed permanent now appears to be shifting. In 2023 the minus-thirty conditions she had set out to preserve did not return. The photographs therefore record a climate as much as a landscape, and a personal memory of deep winter that is quietly losing its referent.

Hartmann Books publishes Minus Thirty in 2024 as a 112-page hardcover measuring 24 by 34 centimeters, with fifty-five illustrations, an open spine, and a dustjacket. The volume carries texts by Boehm, Daniel Blochwitz, and Brad Zellar, and its design by Akiko Wakabayashi is intended to translate the experience of the cold — and the act of holding that experience on paper — into the physical object. The narrow, upright format suits the verticality of snowfall and the isolation of a figure in an emptied field.

For readers, the book’s interest lies less in spectacle than in method. Boehm’s self-imposed threshold turns photography into an endurance practice, and the resulting sequence moves between the monumental and the nearly blank. It belongs to a broad photographic attention to altered winter landscapes, yet its terms are unusually strict and its vision regional and exact. It is a considered choice for those drawn to conceptual constraint, cold-climate subject matter, and photobooks whose design extends the photographer’s argument.