Just wanted to share with those of you who don't read my newsletter. I had a nice time with Michael Kenna in the landscape for 4 days this March. He's a lot of fun and hope to see him again some time when / if he can fit it into his schedule.
Michael Kenna & Me, March 2015. It was a lot of fun MK - thanks for the visit !
He has been a terrific influence on my own work, so it was a real pleasure and honour to spend time with him. Best of all, he such an unassuming, fun person to be around :-)
Tonight I'm busy editing a lot of new images from Iceland and also Lofoten and I can't help be reflective about what I've captured this year so far.
There was so much snow in Lofoten that I didn't know where to take my group, until one of them said 'are there any beautiful tree's we can photograph?'
As much as I might want to plan a shoot, decide on what I want to capture, things never turn out the way I expect them to, and that is alright with me. In fact, that is very good indeed.
In last month's newsletter, I discussed the need to not pre-visualise before turning up to a location. We all do it - we've seen countless photos of places, so much so, that it's practically hard to see them any other way. And yet the art of a good photographer is to work with what he's given, and not lament what we didn't get. This means turning off any pre-visualised ideas of what you want your trip to be, because photography is a journey.
I never know where I will be taken. I never know what I might see, and even though I go back to many locations each year in similar seasons, I still find new things.
There was so much snow in Lofoten that I didn't know where to take my group, until one of them said 'are there any beautiful tree's we can photograph?' I knew of a place, but it has never been too successful for me in the past, because the background behind the trees is always too visible. This time it worked because there was no background. It also worked because there was so much snow in the sky and it was so similar in tone to the earth.
Perhaps I'll see this scene again next year when I'm back in Lofoten, but I'm not counting on it. In fact, it's better to just go along for the ride and see what happens and where the light and the atmospheric conditions take me.
I'm just home from Iceland, and I just got word today that an interview that was conducted with me many months ago has finally appeared in the UK magazine 'Black+White Photography'.
Front cover of Black+White Photography magazine.
Interviews are funny things and in particular, the written word can be so 'final' at times - what I may say in passing, becomes a more fixed and immutable statement in print. Whereas, I find real conversations have more fluidity to them - they are always unfinished and there's more give and take as a result.
Mark Bentley, who conducted the interview, has decided to focus on my thoughts and feelings on doing photography for oneself. I would just like to cover with you why I feel it's important that we create our work for ourselves.
I believe there comes a point in our development that we go beyond seeking others approval of what we do. We reach a place where we realise that no amount of praise or criticism from others will make any difference to how we feel about our own work. I'm not entirely sure if it's a confidence thing, or just that over time we develop a sense of trust in our own abilities. Regardless, after a while of hearing other people's opinions, you realise that the only opinion that really matters is your own. The whole exercise becomes a form of meditation. There is no drive to impress, no hunger for affirmation from others. Just your own need to meditate and do the work as a form of therapy.
I might have touched upon this in previous posts with the aim of describing one's own style. But I think that in order to get to a place where you feel you have found your voice, you need to be able to let go of others opinions and just trust yourself to feel what you feel and do what you do. I can't say it any simpler than that.
I’m in Iceland right now. Everyone is saying the weather has been very challenging since December. With one storm front after another sweeping the country every four days or so, it’s been quite an adventure to be here.
And today they say we have the worst storm this winter (see weather chart below). The cabin I am in is shaking with the wind :-)
Big storm today (Saturday 14th March) means we're staying indoors :-)
I’ve had a few equipment failures in the past two weeks during my travels. One of my Mamiya 7 cameras was pushed over by the extreme winds and the outer casing of the body literally shattered in two. It’s now being held together by some duct tape which I always bring with me. I’m convinced it still works, but it’s been put away in my bag while I use a spare body that I always carry with me now.
Years ago, when I was a hobbyist, I had one of everything: one camera, one tripod, one light meter. I could keep these items for many years and see little wear and tear on them. But over the past few years of being out on location more often than not, I’ve been finding that I seem to be going through tripods every few years, Lee filters every six months and sometimes Sekonic light meters every year or so too - my second failure in equipment this week has been a Sekonic 758DR light meter which had been working perfectly fine all the duration of the trip but didn’t come on one morning after being stowed away in a cold camera bag for a few days.
I’ve been thinking about how my backup strategy is just getting more involved. I now travel with two of everything and I think I will be changing my plan to travel with three copies of the vital things in future (camera bodies and light meters and ball-heads).
I have two sets of clothing: two sets of gloves, two sets of waterproof shells, several hats (I keep losing them), and now I will be travelling with at least two camera bodies, and at least two light meters.
I love to look after my equipment and I like to have nice copies of everything I own. Mostly it’s because I treasure my equipment, but there is also a more practical side to this: if I have equipment that is well looked after, it will be less likely to fail. So although I use my equipment a lot, and it is used in sometimes very challenging weather conditions, I don’t abuse it either.
I’m not sore or sorry for the failures in the equipment I’ve brought with me. I’m quite philosophical about it, as the way I see it, the equipment you buy is meant to be used. It's not meant to be coveted or kept out of the rain or snow. It's there to be used to photograph the things you see and experience. If you use your equipment a lot in challenging situations, failures from time to time are going to happen and they should be expected also.
Photography is about getting out there. If we restrict ourselves to being fair-weather shooters only, then our photography will be restricted to a very small avenue of possibilities also.
Equipment is there to be used. It it gets used a lot, it will get damaged and fail from time to time. I have accepted that this is part of the price for getting out there and making images.
And image making is after all, what we are here for :-)
I've just had notice of cancellation for my Bolivia photo tour this June 1st to 10th.
Containing the world's largest salt-flat, and a landscape that resembles a Dali painting, there is much scope for abstract and graphic photographic compositions. It is my favourite place to photograph right now.
If you're interested in coming, you can find out more, and also book here.
