Pointy Hat Mountain

I'm slowly working my way through my images from Lofoten, shot this past December.

I love the process. Scanning images, allows me time to review what I shot on my light table. I take each sheet of film out and work on that, one at a time, and I don't race. I don't delve further down into the collection of films until I'm complete with the top sheet. It's a very relaxing way to work. The scanner whirs and clicks away in the back ground, and while it is busy scanning the currently chosen image, I study the ones that are currently grabbing my eye.

And every now than then, the collection of scanned and edited images are reviewed. I use LightRoom - just as a catalog preview machine. It's nice to load up all the images and rate them. Some make the grade more so than others. Take the image above of Geitelva, a mountain near Fredvang (fantastic name for a place, don't you think?). I'm not too sure about this one. I love the mountain, but I shot this under very unsatisfactory conditions. Fading light and a severe lack of colour. It does have a mood though, so It might get through to the last selection, but somehow, I don't think so.

This is the point really. I can't tell until the entire edit is done. Like a story being told, it can only be understood once all the characters in it have been presented and explained. As I add new images to the collection, it feels as though it begins to steer in a new direction. 'Ah, so it's going to be that kind of portfolio?' I'll hear myself exclaim. If the images are overly light, then I can see that the whole feel of the collection is going towards a more lighter mood, but then two days later, the images I'm working on are taking a more darker mood, and that seems to steer the collection in a new direction.... and then I find that some images work better than others.

I feel that making a collection of images work together is all about the collection being 'greater than the sum of its parts'. It should be cohesive, work together, and feel like it all belongs.

That's why I don't rush home to edit. It's also why I let the images sit for a few weeks after the edit, to see how I feel. Sometimes things I didn't see at the time of the edit start to grate. I may be aware that something feels 'on edge' about a particular image, and that's often the sign that it either doesn't fit the collection, or requires further adjustment.....

I'm off to take a break now.

Vågspollen & Uttakleiv, Lofoten

I'm just getting a chance to sit down and go over all the new images I've shot since December. For those of you who haven't been following me, I spent a while in Lofoten, Norway this December shooting, followed by a trip to Iceland. I've got around 70 rolls of film to go through. Here are som of the first I've looked at, and thought it would be nice to share a scene with you :-)

I think these are only preliminary edits. I don't think I've found my 'flow' yet. I sometimes find when it comes to getting back to editing work, it takes me a while to reach a space in my head where I'm at ease with what I'm doing, and I feel I'm building something that fits my mood of how I felt at the time I was on location. Sometimes the edits drive me, and other times I drive the editing. I'm sure it will all settle down in a day or so.

I've spent quite a while in the cold this past few months, and there are still a few more trips to come that will require me hanging around in the white, minus stuff for a while too. Vågspollen is a beautiful place and I had to climb down from the road to the waters edge to get this shot.

I've seen quite a few images mangled by using the Hasselblad - the film backs do not perform in the cold and tend to slip. I've learned the hard way that I need to check the film has wound on fully (it will still take the image, as it's like a clutch that is slipping), and simply give the winder a little help by moving on the film a little bit manually until it reaches the next counter position.

One has to ask - why does each piece of equipment have a 'gotcha' feature or in the case of the Hasselblad system 'gotcha feature set' built in? Only by using the stuff for long enough can you get familiar and overcome the quirks of a system.

I'll be back to show you some more images over the next few weeks I'm sure, as I continue to work my way through the backlog :-)

Carefree

I’m in Marrakech this week, on a holiday. I know, I’m sure some of the readers of my blog assume that my life is one big photo trip after another, and that I lead a charmed life. I’ve certainly had quite an amazing past two or three years since I went full time doing what I do, but it has come at a cost. Let me explain.

I came to Marrakech 4 years ago for a photographic holiday. At the time, I was still gainfully employed as an IT professional, and my holiday time each year was always consumed with the lure of travel to far off places to make photographs. I would burn myself out over the course of a holiday, working very, very hard to capture the images I sought. It was always good fun and a very enjoyable way to de-stress from my life in IT.

But I haven’t been aware that there has been a change in me over the past four years, and it’s only become apparent to me, now that I am back in Marrakech for a holiday. Everywhere I look, I have memories staring right back at me, reminding me of the person I was four years ago - a carefree IT professional who used his holidays to get his photography bug out of his system. I had very little to worry about at the time. My income was secure and I was so used to being established in what I did (I was an experienced Java / OO programmer with a good working knowledge and experience of being a head DBA for lots of blue chip companies). In short, I had a very recognisable skill set that was in demand and I felt I knew what my future was.

Fast forward to the present, and I’m a much more different person. Running my own photographic workshop business, and being a ‘pro photographer’ has lots of pressures that are different from what I’m used to. For example, I’m now fully responsible for my whole income, and I have to ensure that each year, I can make enough money to keep myself afloat. I can’t afford to take the foot of the accelerator pedal, or to become complacent.

The first few years have been quite a challenge. Setting up a business and ensuring that my house did not get repossessed put me under a lot of stress. I think this is why, when asked, most photographers will tell stary eyed dreamers not to give up the day job.

In my own case, I didn’t give up the day job - it gave me up, in the form of redundancy, and at the time, things were so bad here in the UK, that I had no other alternative but to run with the workshop idea because that was the only form of financial income I was getting at the time. IT Recruitment agencies would not return my calls, because I was just one of the many thousands of IT people who had been put out of work.

I’m entirely grateful that I had the photographic workshops to fall back on. I’m very grateful for what I do now, and I wouldn’t want to change it for the world. I’ve become a very focussed individual, who has to keep thinking ahead, working out new ways to stay in what I do, and because I’m driven by what interests me, I feel that things are going from strength to strength.

Today however, arriving back in Marrakech, has allowed me the luxury of being able to remember who I was 4 years ago, and compare that person to who I am now. I feel a sense of loss in some ways - that carefree aspect of me is hardly there at the moment, and I think this is telling me that I need to have more time out, for myself to relax and just enjoy life - without a camera.

As in everything, balance is what’s required, and I think my trip to Marrakech has acted as a catalyst for me to review where I am at in my life, and more specifically, what I wish to get out of it, and that can only be a good thing.

As creative people, we should take time out to review not only who we are, or where we are going, but also to consider if we’ve lost or regained something about ourselves over the review period. It’s really vital to recognise changes in yourself and re-address them if you feel that you are becoming weighted down with the burden of an overly serious life.

One last thing, if you wish to have a career in photography, I wouldn’t say ‘don’t do it’. I would just stress to you that, like all self employment, it requires a lot more work than a normal job. It can be immensely satisfying because everything you do, you do it for you and not for someone else. But there are pressures involved. Making sure you can earn enough is a very hard thing to pull off - you may be a great photographer, but a lousy business person. You may be a dreamer, who can’t add up. You may be unrealistic about how your business can grow. It’s not easy.

If you love taking pictures, then you can enjoy that, without the burden of trying to make a living from it. If you love running a business, and enjoy all the business related activities involved in it, then I would say - go for it. But if not, then I would say, keep it as a serious hobby, and appreciate that your hobby has no pressures involved in it, apart from the ones you force upon yourself. In short, enjoy what you do, and appreciate that doing it for a full time occupation may not give you that sense of satisfaction you think it will. Running a business is hard. Do it, only if you feel driven to go that way.

I’m off now, for a Moroccan coffee in the old square of Marrakech, and to enjoy just being here. I’ve got a lot to be grateful for, and I’ve learned a lot about business, and myself over the past few years, but it’s perhaps time to take some time out.

Wish you were here,

Bruce.

The art of post edit

I received my films back from the lab yesterday (yes, I get them processed by Peak Imaging). They are currently sitting in a cardboard box in my home studio. I haven't looked at them yet, because I'm waiting for the right moment when I feel ready to do so. I simply do not feel inclined to go anywhere near a camera, a piece of film or think about image editing for a while yet. I've just been home for under a week now, and it's taken a while to settle back in.

When I approaching editing images, scanning them and reviewing the ones I want to work on, I've got to feel ready to do it. The box I have is rather large - there are around 70 rolls of film processed in there - that's quite a bit of effort.

I have two free weeks coming up soon, so I hope to use the time to get into the mode of review/scan/edit/post-review/re-edit process that I tend to get into. It has its own momentum too and I feel that having to stop mid-way, and go and do a workshop, or go away for a week - causes a sense of lost focus in what I'm doing.

I think that's because I build up a mental picture of the whole portfolio as I go along and complete an image. I think this is very similar to how I make the initial images too. When I'm out shooting, I build up a mental image of the entire portfolio I'm shooting - it helps build up a sense of focus to what I'm doing and allow me to immerse myself fully in the process.

It should be an absorbing experience, and it is for me.

So why should the post shoot review/edit/review again/re-edit stages be any different?

I find it hard to comprehend why photographers rush home and edit images quickly. Get one in before dinner time, or during a quick five minutes break in the day.... it's like rushing down your evening meal. There is no deep connection, nor any time to consider, reflect, apply a sense of objectivity to what it is we are creating in our work.

I'll be waiting for those two free weeks to come up. Before then, I do not have any decent segments of free time, with which to do my picture editing justice. To rush in there, would cause me a great deal of frustration and pain. And for that reason alone, I'm content to wait.

An odd request

Tonight I'm in a humorous mood, and feel I want to share something with you all. Over the past few years, I've received a lot of correspondence from people. The majority of the unsolicited emails I get are very lovely - words of kindness, of really beautiful wishes, some telling me they love what I do, some telling me how I've helped inspire them and bring them on in their photography - amazing things really. And they go a long way to show that most people are very nice, want to see you succeed in what you do, and want to wish the best in others.

But as with anything, there's always a very small percentage of people out there who are a bit odd, lack etiquette, or lack.... something!

So tonight, for a bit of humour, I felt inclined to give you an example of one of the stranger e-mails I get from time to time. The following e-mail came into my mailbox this morning, from a complete stranger, who seems to think I have nothing better to do with my time, than go and photograph her boat! Ha ha ha ha !

I used to be rather perplexed by these strange e-mails.... but I've grown to love them. They always surprise me, and remind me that the human race is a funny lot really. Enjoy!

Hi Bruce

This is a very cheeky request but we're in Lofoten on:

22 February (Svolvær, ms. Marco Polo) 21 March (Svolvær, ms. Marco Polo) 04 April (Stamsund & Svolvær, ms. Finnmarken) 09/10 April (Stamsund & Svolvær, ms. Finnmarken)

I think you're also there on 21 March? If you happen to catch sight of either ship, could you possibly take a photograph? It might be the only photographs we'd see of the ships sailing and would be useful for future ships cruises if my Husband is lecturing on them.

--

Now that I've set a bench mark - please don't email me to ask if I will photograph your boat/car/cat/horse/sheep/whatever... I won't have time..... I'll be too busy trying to photograph the rather cheeky R McVicar's boat!

ps. I've just drafted up a reply:

Dear R McVicar,

Many thanks for your enquiry.

I'd be only too happy to oblige.

Bit of a cheeky request from me. I've been wanting to make some of the horizons in my coastal photographs a bit more interesting. If I told you where I was going to be over the next year, could you sail your boat to those locations so it can be used as a nice prop on the horizon?

Bruce

Perhaps the nicest Iceland photographic book?

I'm just home from Iceland. It was a great trip, with lots of snow, ice, and hardly any rain. On my way home, whilst sitting in Reykjavik airport, I came across Daniel Bergman's new book 'Iceland Landscapes'. It's a beauty.

I've known about Daniel for some time. He is perhaps Iceland's most prominent landscape and nature photographer, but I've never met him in person. I do however, know a lot of workshop participants who have been on his trips (and mine), and have said very good things about him. I must add, that this is quite rare: I seldom hear good things about most photographic tutors, which is a shame, but it does mean that the good ones stand out. Daniel by all accounts, gives a good expedition throughout Iceland, and since it's his homeland, I've always thought he must know it very well.

So it was with little surprise that I found this book sitting on a shelf in the duty free tax shop in Reykjavik airport. I knew of Daniel as primarily a nature photographer, so I wasn't prepared to see a really beautiful collection of images, covering the entirety of Iceland, so well presented and laid out. Daniel it seems, has been working very hard the past five years gathering this fantastic collection of images together.

For me, it did several things;

1. It made me realise, that being a non-native of Iceland, it would be very hard for me to collect such a great collection of images of Iceland that cover everything from the south to the west fjords, and also the interior, displayed through all the seasons.

2. But because of this acknowledgement, his book gave me a lot of inspiration to realise that I've only just touched the surface of Iceland, and I really must return as much as I can in future.

3. Iceland is an *amazing* landscape. No two ways about it.

Daniel's book is beautifully presented. It is a lovely showcase for Iceland, and if I were in the position to be thinking about venturing off to Iceland to find out more about it, I would consider this a great introduction, with coffee table substance for repeat viewings. It's a beautiful, book.

The foreword is by David Ward, who is, in his own right, a very talented Large Format UK based Photographer. Daniel has chosen his introduction writer well for his book.

If you'd like to order a copy, Daniels' book is self published, and can only be obtained from his web site here.

I recommend it very, very highly indeed.

Temperature Problems in Iceland

This week I'm in Iceland, and it's gorgeous here right now. Plenty of snow, and today we have a clear sky.

I'm writing this post about my equipment, and just how terrible things are working out for me right now. I brought two camera systems with me - my trusty Mamiya 7II camera, and also a rather mint Hasselblad 503CX which is an addition to my existing Hasselblad 500CM (that I bought from my good friend Lynda over a year ago). I've fallen in love with the Hasselblad system and it's been a real joy working in square format - I think the change from thinking in 5:4 is as good as a rest for me.

But I have to say, that if you're considering taking any camera equipment into some extremely cold landscape for extended periods of time, you might want to get it serviced or checked out first. I've had both cameras completely freeze up in -2ºc conditions, which I don't think is too much to ask of the equipment. The biggest hassle, has been the entire Hasselblad outfit.

It seems that the film backs are not working properly. They don't wind the film on evenly in the cold, and my 50mm wide angle lens seems to cause the body to jam, and I have to push the lens onto the body to make the mirror go up. A second film back advances properly, but in the cold, it does not stop at frame 1, instead, it doesn't indicate anything as to the current position, and before I knew it, I had wound on a fresh roll right to the end!

From reading forums on the Hass system, it seems a regular maintenance plan is what's required. I have to admit though, that using camera equipment in cold conditions can exacerbate a condition that wasn't so obvious when working under normal temperatures.

I managed to slip on some solid ice (hidden by a dusting of snow), and so my Hasselblad Lee adaptor ring (which got my vote for most rubbish piece of equipment I've ever bought) bit the dust and shattered into several pieces. I really love the Lee filter system, but their standard 'plastic' adaptor rings are really awful and they should be ashamed selling something that does not let the holder system go on (without the use of a pen knife to reshape the adaptor ring).... it doesn't work, and they charge you £40 for the privilege too. I would love to buy a wide angle adaptor ring for the Hasselblad, but they don't make them (all wide angle adaptor rings are precision made, and made of metal - so they do the job they're intended for).

And then there's my new Gitzo tripod. Two legs are jammed solid, and trying to unscrew them just makes the rubber grip slide around the leg. I'm sure what's happened is that the grease inside the collar has leaked onto the legs, and the temperature has made the grease thick and unmoving. So I have the tripod lying right next to a radiator at present.

All this is making me feel rather frustrated and defeated in a way, that is similar to how I felt when I came to Iceland in Summer. I remember feeling that things weren't going well, and that I'd have nothing to show for my efforts. So I'm just wondering if my films will prove me wrong when I get them processed.

One thing is for certain. Both cameras as going to the Hospital for a check up, servicing. As for my tripod, well.... we will see. I think yet another tripod purchase is on the cards.

New Years Aurora

Happy new year! On new years eve, I visited Jokulsarlon glacial lagoon with friends that I'm traveling with. We had been told there was a very good chance we'd see the Aurora - our host at the place we're staying at seemed very certain we would see the Aurora. We checked the Aurora sites and they said there was a moderate chance of seeing it.

We went just before new year came, and spent about one hour out in the dark, not entirely sure if what we were seeing was cloud lit up by the half-moon, or if it was Aurora we were seeing.

My good friend Lilian who lives in the town of Reine, in the Lofoten islands, explained to me a few weeks back on a visit to Norway, that the Aurora is always seen coming from the north, so last night, we positioned ourselves to the south of Jokulsarlon, to face north.

Almost immediately upon stopping the car, we saw a band of bright cloud in the north, but we weren't sure it was Aurora. It is only recently that I've been told the following points about Auroras:

1. Most of the time, they are faint. The full blown ones you see in many photos are exceptional circumstances.

2. Because of the cones/rods in our eyes, we can't detect the green colour in the faint Aurora too well (if at all - they just looked like faintly illuminated clouds to my eye).

Of course, the other most important aspect about Aurora is this; you need a lot of solar activity for them to happen. They are not caused by the cold weather, and they are not often on display. In a nutshell - there is no guarantee that you will see them.

But last night, we had a clear sky, and once we'd set up some cameras to shoot what we thought might be moon lit cloud / Aurora, we saw on the back of my friend Lynne's 5DMK2 a very distinct Aurora band reaching across the north of the sky.

I've had camera malfunctions all day. Through poor judgement, I took away a recently bought Hasselblad 503 camera which is constantly jamming - winder problems, lens mount problems, film back problems. Nightmare. So I've gone back to using my Mamiya 7II. Which the battery died as soon as we got to the lagoon last night. So I had to chance the battery in the darkness, and using a head torch, which wasn't ideal, as it's unwanted light pollution for those shooting around me.

Based on the exposures we worked out on my friend Lynne's camera, I was shooting Portra 800 at f4, with 1, 2, 4, 8, 12 minute exposures, since I did not have Portra's reciprocity graph at hand.

Anyway, we did indeed see the Aurora, and it has made me realise that I've most probably seen it many times in Scotland on a clear night. Only, I wasn't aware that what I was seeing was Aurora, rather than lit up clouds. Perhaps if the moon hadn't been out last night, I would have been able to detect the colour of it and be more certain of it when we noticed it. I'm not sure.

But it was a nice way to end 2011, which has been quite a year for me.