Where Ravens Cry began with two years of travel. Jakob de Boer travelled through the Pacific Northwest, photographing coastlines, cedar groves, and sacred forest with a large-format camera, and returning repeatedly to the same sites until the land yielded something quieter than scenery. The book that resulted is not a survey of a region but an inquiry into how its stories live in its terrain. De Boer, who divides his time between Toronto and Paris, treats myth as shared inheritance rather than local color, and the sequences he builds across the book’s 56 pages hold landscape and legend in the same frame.

The photographs are printed in four black inks on uncoated paper, an austere choice that keeps attention on tonal depth rather than surface gloss. Nazraeli Press issued the book in 2019 in Swiss binding at roughly 8.5 by 11 inches, and the presentation is deliberately restrained. A laid-in pentaptych, unfolding to more than four feet, extends the horizontal reach of a body of work otherwise measured by the single plate. The 41 duotone plates reward slow, close reading; the painterly passages in coast and canopy face the starker images of monumental trees, and the alternation gives the series its rhythm.

This is de Boer’s first monograph, and it carries the weight of a sustained project rather than a gathering of highlights. For collectors interested in landscape as a sustained practice, the book offers several points of attention: the choice of camera, the duration of engagement, and the willingness to let indigenous narratives shape the terms of the work. It is a serious book about a specific place, and it asks to be read as one.