An exercise in minimalism

One of the things that we spent a lot of time covering on the Harris workshop was to try to keep the compositions simple.

Beaches are perfect places for studying minimalism. Expansive places with smooth tonality, beaches are often places where it's easy to observe light at its simplest level.

I remember being blown away (literally) by the smooth textures combined with the speed of the clouds as they raced across the beaches on Harris.

Now, after a few days of being home, Harris has taken on a dreamlike visual memory for me. I can remember the wind on my face, the sound of the sea, and the great wide open spaces. But most of all, I remember the light in the early mornings, which was very special.

I know the group and myself felt that we got a lot of really dramatic light. But I also feel I got a chance to make much more simplistic compositions too.

Spacial awareness, music & numbers

Don't you think they are all related? I've found that there seems to be a high correlation between mathematics and music for instance - a lot of IT offices often have a fair share of musicians in their departments.

I can understand the relationship between music and numbers. Music is the division of notes being played at intervals and this all tends to boil down to how many beats, crotchets etc there are per bar. Music is counting in an abstract way. Maths is counting.

But what about photography? Don't you think that images can be broken down into basic components, each with different volumes, weights and most importantly - relative distances between the objects in the photo?

Don't you think that our brain tends to work out the spacial distances between relative objects in a photo - to balance the scene out?

Don't you think we just compute the presence, size, depth of objects in a scene against each other and the resulting sum of the parts either equals a well composed photograph or a photograph that jars... that doesn't add up properly?

Your comments please.

Workshop news & other stories

Isle of Harris Workshop

I'm just back from the isle of Harris, in the far north of Scotland, where I've been conducting a workshop for the past four days.

It's been a great adventure for the group and myself and I've really enjoyed the company (thanks Dudley, Jim, Kevin Lynne, Peter & Stuart).

The UK has been battered by severe weather conditions with extreme rain and wind. For some reason, the far north west of the country managed to avoid most of the terrifying weather. On Harris we had a lot of dramatic and changeable light, very worthy of a photograph (or twenty). Sure we had our fair share of rain too, but overall, we were able to shoot in some amazing locations with really inspiring light.

This trip has made me more convinced that there is no such thing as 'bad weather' and I've just ordered a 'storm jacket' for my trusty Mamiya 7II camera. It's well used to getting wet, but I thought it would perhaps help in shielding the ND Grad filters from the rain a little bit more.

Isle of Arran

I spent a week on the isle of Arran doing some further research for some photographic workshops I intend to do here in 2010. I always prefer to put money back into the local communities when I can, so I stayed at the Kilmory Bunk house which turned out to be a great place to base a workshop in. So I'm in the process of working out final details for two workshops here in 2010 (I also have Asynt and Skye in the pipeline too).

Don't you think it looks like a snake? slithering into the water?

Pirate Bay - a special place on Arran.

Apple

As excited as I was that Apple were looking at my work, my portfolio was returned to me recently. No reply from them, so I had to e-mail to ask if I was in the running. Sadly, I didn't make the grade, but a good friend of mine (Hi Darren!), pointed out that at least - I'm now on their radar, so perhaps someday, they'll use my images. Time will tell.

BBC Radio Scotland

If all goes well, I will be meeting up with Mark Stevens from BBC Radio Scotland's 'Out of Doors' radio program in Asynt during December for a wee chat with the intention of our ramblings being broadcast sometime later on in the month. I'll let you know if / when this is broadcast - so you can tune in.

Island Hopping

I feel the future for me is a Scottish one. As much as I have traveled extensively over the past decade, I'm finding that my own back yard has so much potential for photography that I've just firmed up dates for an outer Hebridean tour this January. Courtesy of a camper van, I'll be heading onto the islands for two weeks with my camera and trusty iPod for company, to make some winter photographs.

Scotland is my home, and I only really found out just how wonderful it was by traveling abroad. Being away has given me a new set of eyes and I feel this is where I'm going to focus my efforts on for the time being...... Where Scotland is concerned, I feel I've only just begun.

An exercise in shape & form

I was on the Isle of Arran a couple of weeks ago and during my adventures, I came across this coastal shot.

Personally, I think that the Isle of Eigg has the most photogenic beach in Scotland, but this little patch of coastal scenery on Arran has got me: look at the curves, tones and structure of that rock.... it looks like a big snake slithering into the water.

I think a good image is really all about simplification. Reducing, removing, isolating, curves, tones, textures - these are all the aspects that go into making landscapes with high impact.

Bad Weather

The more photography I do : the more convinced I am that there is no such thing as bad weather! I'm just back from the isle of Harris, conducting a workshop there, and everyone as usual, put 110% into getting out there - regardless of the weather to shoot some of the most dramatic light I've seen in ages.

The most dramatic images are often shot on the edge of a storm, either when the storm is coming in, or when the storm has just passed over. It's an exciting time to be out there with the camera, braving the elements.

One thing I keep coming across is participants timidness at using their cameras in wet weather: I've yet to see a camera malfunction in even the wettest of weather. It's amazing when I hear people go on about having a camera body with full weather sealing: it's marketing hype. So long as you're not stupid with your camera, then most of them will be more than fine in bad weather. The only things you need to watch out for are keeping it out in prolonged rain, and drying it off each night. It's wise to take it out of the camera bag and let the moisture in the air that's been around the camera evaporate off.

I remember in 2001 going up a glacier in New Zealand for the entire day with my Mamiya 7 and lenses stuck in some pockets in the 'waterproof' jacket. Let's first get rid of this notion that things are 'waterproof'. There is only a certain amount of rain that something will take before it starts to leak. 7 hours late, I got back to the base of the glacier with the camera completely soaked right through. I sat it in the sun the following day and watched all the condensation evaporate off the lens elements. 7 years later I was still using the very same Mamiya 7 outfit......

This brings me onto another topic : clothing. I keep getting people turn up to the workshops with goretex trainers. Goretex is not the answer to everything and I personally don't rate it. You're better off with a pair of wellington boots, or a pair of leather walking boots that are waterproof to ankle level. I use a pair of Scarpa boots - the tongue of the boot does not have any gap between it and the rest of the boot - it is essentially one big leather surround going right up over my ankle. I use Snow Seal (I heat the leather boot in the oven for 5 minutes) and rub in the Sno' Seal into the warm leather so it is absorbed. It makes for a very durable boot for climbing over coastal landscapes and walking through really boggy ground.

You have to get out there with your camera. If you're coveting the beast and putting it away the moment the rain comes on - you're doing yourself and your camera a disservice.

Light, Drama, Action!

I've been back on the Isle of Harris for the past few days, getting ready for the start of a master class workshop I'm doing here. The guys arrive today and I'm all excited now.

The weather in the UK the past few days has been somewhat 'nuts', and in some ways, being up in the western isles has allowed me to see better weather than most. But it has been dramatic to say the least.

I seem to be getting a penchant for rainy weather. The light has been so changeable over the past few days and for example, in the last 10 minutes I've just seen rainbows followed by hailstones from the window of my hotel. It's absolutely stunning up here and I can't wait to see what will happen over the next 4 days.

Which brings me back to the subject of weather.

One of my most recent acquisitions is an Umbrella. Dramatic light tends to happen at the edge of changing weather, whether it's the edge of a storm coming in, or the edge of a storm passing over. It's a challenge to keep the front lens element dry (I don't worry about my camera getting wet as I've found that most gear is pretty sturdy for this kind of thing). But the one thing I do want is a dry front lens element, especially any ND grad filters I'm using. So I now have an umbrella to help me out here.

I get a lot of enquiries from people wanting to come on the workshops with me, who ask 'what do we do if the weather is bad?'. Well, there's no such thing as bad weather from a photographers view point. If you want to capture something exceptional, you have to be out there experiencing the moods and dramas of the light and that can often only happen when the weather is challenging.

A lonely pursuit?

I’ve been dwelling on this one for some time this year. Photography is a lonely pursuit. For some, it is a release from the constance of home pressures and work pressures. They may be people who have lives where they seem to be surrounded by people, held back by schedules and and tied in by commitments.

But what if you’re not that kind of person? I’ve always had friends who are ‘busy busy busy’ but I’ve often felt that they have created this hectic-ness as a distraction. Perhaps they’ve made themselves so busy to keep their minds of the fact that they are lonely, or perhaps they’ve created this busyness to fill their lives and give them purpose. Or perhaps it’s as simple as it’s just the way it’s turned out to be.

But I’ve often liked to have a lot of space around me. I can’t concentrate or feel at ease if my calendar is so hectic, so I don’t fill it up..... and now that I’m a full time pro, I seem to find I am even more isolated than I ever imagined I would be. Perhaps too much space around me now, which in many ways is making me feel overwhelmed in just as much the same way as I would be if I were too busy.

Photography as I’ve said is a lonely pursuit. Depending on how you define ‘lonely’, you will agree or disagree. Perhaps a better definition or word would be ‘solitary’. So photography is a solitary pursuit. It gives us time to be on our own, to internalize, to lose ourselves in a pursuit and the outdoors for a few hours. That is all very liberating, but what I’m alluding to is what happens when you have so much free time, you find that any time away doing photography, feels like self inflicted solitary confinement?

I’d always dreamt of getting away - going to visit and photograph the Scottish Islands, and as much as I do enjoy it - there’s only so much of it that I can handle in one sitting, before I’m keen to return to base, back to family and friends, back to familiarity. I think that some of us are drawn to photography because it allows the gypsy part of our characters freedom to roam, freedom to disconnect from the pressures of modern day life, but it also seems to be a way of keeping us away from the ones we love and although we are engaging in the world on a visual and sensual level, we’re not engaging with others.

Your thoughts appreciated.

Passion

One of the greatest gifts I've been given through my Photography - is that of friendship. I've found over these past few years that I've met some wonderful, passionate people from all walks of life.

Just this summer, I had the good fortune to meet Peter Freeman. He came up to my home in Edinburgh for some tuition on 'digital darkroom printing' with me, all the way from the Lake district - an area that I know very little about - having only visited it twice - once when I was 12 and a few years back for a weekend.

Naturally, I know very little about my clients when they come to spend time with me, but what I often find is that someone turns up as a client and leaves as a friend. I know that this certainly happened with Peter and I. He came up with some wonderful 35mm transparencies which blew me away, and over the course of an evening, we spent time disecting his images and discussing how dodging and burning in Photoshop could improve what I felt were already stunning images. He left that night, having issued me an invite to come down to the Lakes and spend some time with him, which I did a few weeks ago.

It was a terrific time, and although I don't feel that the Lakes is 'my jurisdiction' - where I should be carving out a body of work from, I came home knowing that Peter has done just that - and he's published his own book too - which is Gorgeous.

He's passionate about the Lakes, and he's spent a lot of time getting to know regions that are seldom visited. During my time with him, it transpired that he is keen to work on a 'definitive book' about the Lakes - None of the usual twee - stock images, but images showing the Lakes like it's never been seen before. Only, I feel he has done just that with his current book.

I can't explain it - but I feel Photography has handed me so much - I've been able to travel to some pretty exciting locations, I've felt inspired by what I've witnessed as a photographer, but what I think I find the most engaging - is the people I get to meet along my way. I know it isn't over yet - I'm looking forward to those chance encounters and the friends I have yet to make.

Making of 40 Photographs #28

This is image #28 in my series of ‘Making of 40 Photographs’. This is what started the whole ball rolling for me.

Back in the late 80's, I was around 21 years of age and had shown a mild interest in Photography (I was really a musician and had been playing and writing music from the age of 12). A friend of mine came round one day with a book by Ansel Adams and It was the first time that I'd seen beauty and art in a photograph. Up until then, photographs had always been 'documents' or ways of remembering family occasions.

My youngest sister Fiona tells me that I've always had a camera, which really surprised me because I simply didn't see it that way, but sure enough, I do remember having a little instamatic when I was really young - perhaps 8 years old.

Still, I digress, but with the aim of setting the scene. So there I was at the age of 21, having acquired my first SLR - a Canon EOS 650 - a super-duper auto-focus, state of the art camera (which by the way you can now pick up for around £25 on eBay). I'd just got my first wide angle zoom - a terrible 28-70 lens made by Canon with my Grant Cheque (I was an IT student at the time).

So one August evening I looked out the window and saw a thunder storm coming. It's often the case that the light is at its most dramatic during August - the sun is now beginning to set low in the sky around 9pm and it casts long dramatic shadows across the landscape. So I went for a bike ride and took my new Camera with me.

What I find interesting about this shot are the following points:

1. I didn't use an ND grad for it (I had no understanding that the sky is often 3+ stops brighter than the sky

2. The sky was dramatically darker than the ground, aiding me considering that I didn't use a Grad

3. I shot a full heady roll of film at this location, and although all the shots had dramatic light and great subject matter, only one (this one) stood out.

Yep, it was the composition. Using the bale of hay in the right hand side of the frame to 'fill the foreground', and the diagonal shape in the sky acts as a perfect reflection to the long cast shadows on the ground, I'd made my first good composition.

Point 3 alone, was a massive learning curve for me, and I now feel that this image set me on the course I've been on ever since.

Making of 40 Photographs #27

This is image #27 in my series of ‘Making of 40 Photographs’. I'm not usually a Black and White photographer, but some subjects 'need' to be photographed in Black and White.

I came to Easter Island in 2003 to photograph the Moai statues but I had a few set backs. One of them being that my telephoto lens was malfunctioning (thanks to some screws being shaken loose on the rocky, unsealed roads of Patagonia). So a tip for you there - if traveling a lot with your camera - don't let it shake around in the boot of your car - try to soften any impact by putting it on a seat near you.

So I was limited in what I could shoot - all I had left with me was a wide angle and standard lens. This shot was taken with my standard lens from the edge of Rano Kau, the largest volcano on Easter Island (the island is triangular in shape, each corner made up from a volcano).

I'm always looking for simple shapes and patterns in scenery that can be brought together to create a powerful image. I feel I managed this well with this shot - the clouds were what I was 'visualising' in my mind with their reflections in the sea below. I did shoot this on Velvia (it was the only film I had), but have subsequently converted it to B&W. I've also cropped the 6x7 aspect ratio to an almost square crop. Some things too, seem to be much better in square format as well as in Black and White it seems.