“Carnival is always a movie. You just have to understand what you’re watching,” says Hypemari. The London-based photographer has attended the sprawling two-day event for as long as he can remember. “For me, Carnival was always a way of experiencing ‘back home’ without actually being there,” he says. “It was a space where I could see my culture reflected around me.”

Over the past few years, Hypemari has shot a growing archive of the people who fill the streets of Notting Hill Carnival. While his documentation started as roaming the streets with a point-and-shoot and photographing whatever caught his eye, it’s since become a more intentional project. “You only really get two days a year to make these photographs, so it’s naturally a slow process,” he says. “You’re constantly adding another year, another set of faces, another perspective on what Carnival is becoming.”

While some shots capture the scale of the crowds, or cascading rows of dancers moving through the streets, most home in on people mid-dance, cans in hand and draping flags and arms around one another. “There’s so much happening around you at Carnival, but I always find myself coming back to the person,” he says. “Even when I’m making a portrait, I’m always looking for something that feels a little unfiltered – a gesture, an expression, a moment between what’s expected and what’s actually happening.”

This focus on people in his photographs also reflects how Carnival is changing between generations. Hypemari has noticed a shift in how some younger attendees approach the event. “There’s a version of it now that feels more like ‘Carni’ – turning up in a smart whip, putting on a Jamaican bandana, taking a few pictures and feeling like you’ve done Carnival,” he says. “But I think there’s a difference between going to Carnival and really experiencing Carnival.”

He explains that part of that difference is knowing the history behind the celebration. “When you’re younger, you might not understand why there’s such a strong spirit of rebellion around it, or where that came from,” he says. “You realise it isn’t just a party. It’s history, resistance, culture, identity and community all happening at the same time.”

As Carnival reaches 60 years of celebration, documenting that history has remained an important part of the project. “The Windrush generation came here and built lives, communities and traditions that allowed us to have moments like Carnival today – to be able to dance in the streets of London and celebrate where we come from,” he says. “I don’t want those sacrifices to be forgotten.”

One of Hypemari’s standout moments from this year came as Carnival wound down. As the final Mas bands reached the end of the day, he photographed people exhausted but still dancing on the pavement. “Everyone is still on such a high, but there’s also this feeling in the air that the song that’s just played might be the last one you hear from that sound system until next year,” he says. “You can almost see the conflict in people – they’re exhausted, happy, still dancing, but they know it’s ending.”

There’s comfort, though Hypemari says, in Carnival’s inevitable return. “Life can be tough, and there’s something comforting about knowing that, whatever’s going on, Carnival will be back next year.”