Tag Archives: art

Displacement activity

Having ruminated on time in my last post, I’ve been ‘spending’ time on fixing up my website. I felt it had all become a bit disorganised, and since the primary purpose is to show off photos, these had not received the prominence they deserved. So this evening, instead of doing the tedious job I was meant to be doing, I worked on the tedious task of making my website prettier! For the kinds of things I do, my art needs to be accessible to anyone who might want to ‘consume’ the art. So I put all the galleries into one place, and also took the opportunity to add a RedBubble widget to the main page. The rest of the site is better now too.  As am I.

Painting and time

An artist friend of mine, Carrie, has been exploring issues of ‘watching paint dry‘.  I have found her thoughts and images on this really interesting (she has a whole series of blog posts on this topic, such as this one; or just go backwards through her blog to find them as they’re not categorised as ‘watching paint dry’!).

I find all this fascinating – painters appear to have a very different relationship to time compared to photographers when creating art.  Most obviously, a photographer can use different exposure times which not only impact on aperture/depth of field, for example:

  • in a portrait, the capturing of a (partial?) expression in a fraction of a second is very much a question of time;
  • in a landscape, moving waters or trees are represented in different ways depending on the length of an exposure.

But apart from that, when I photograph is obviously important:

  • landscapes at dawn, midday and dusk all appear different as the light creates varied patterns;
  • photographing a person is also dependent on time, whether this be states of dress/undress, or fresh early mornings/tired evenings.

There are, of course, multiple other ways in which time plays a role: for example, I find Barbara Probst, a photographer who does incredible things with multiple cameras and very precise measurements of time, really stimulating (I’d love to try creating a version of this!).

But it seems to me that painters have a different relationship to time – even if it takes me time to set up an image and later perhaps ‘tidy’ it up a bit on a computer or in print, it seems to me that the actual process of creation is one that involves time in a quite different way.  Perhaps it’s to do with painters starting with a blank canvas and gradually filling it with an image they have visualised over a period of minutes, hours, days – they do this and life happens all around them, from the mundane (being hungry and eating, or being tired and sleeping), to the spectacular (the sudden inspiration to do something they were not expecting but that transforms the end result).  Making photographs sometimes seems to be about just that (unimaginable) 1/250 of a second – and that’s a very different perception of time!

Thanks, Carrie, for sharing your thoughts and reflections on this…

The freedom to photograph

You may have noticed, lower down this page, a small banner with the slogan “photography is not a crime”.  This is about a campaign against the use of (so-called) anti-terrorism laws to stop photographers from taking photographs in public places. I put this there after my own (minor) brush with authority on this issue earlier this year, whilst trying to take some photographs of an interesting roof.

Today’s Independent has a really interesting article about this.  It appears police in England and Wales are being told to use common sense in this regard, and not to stop people taking photographs who are completely harmless!

Maybe things are improving – but we’ll see if the ‘police on the street’ pay any attention to this.

Photography or image capture?

I’ve just been at a seminar led by David Rodowick of Harvard University on historicising virtual images in a cinematic context.  Whilst most of this is way beyond my own academic field and most definitely not something I’d want to pursue in any meaningful way, I had a brief conversation with him afterwards about photography.  He doesn’t talk about movies that are digital as ‘films’, arguing that there is something essentially chemical about film which is not present in digital imaging using a digital video camera, for example.

In a similar way, he said he doesn’t talk about ‘digital photography’, but about ‘image capture’, because ‘photography’ involves a chemical process, whereas digital cameras are recording data.  The data is manipulated and eventually turned into something analogue, otherwise we couldn’t see it (a screen is, after all, an analogue device).  Film, once treated in the appropriate chemicals, can be held up to the light and the image can be seen without this kind of manipulation (though of course, how the chemicals are applied, in what concentration, temperature and for how long has a profound impact on the resulting image).

Is it important to make this differentiation?  It is if we are thinking about how we visualise what we photograph and then compare it to how we see the end result.  In Torridon Bruce Percy described his workflow from taking the photograph on his film camera: he develops his film, and then scans it in on a high quality scanner, producing very large digital files which he can then manipulate in Photoshop.  These files essentially become his negatives, he said.  Thinking about Rodowick’s comments makes me wonder about the way they become his ‘negatives’ – after all, the tangible pieces of film are still the ‘real’ negatives (which I presume he keeps somewhere very safe!), and all there is on the computer is a collection of data – zeros and ones that can be re-converted into an analogue form in the right circumstances.

Half Dome, Blowing Snow - by Ansel Adams

Half Dome, Blowing Snow – © Ansel Adams

Ken Rockwell talks about ‘Real Raw’, meaning film, and if we think of the ways in which some of the great photographers have used film, we know that this is qualitatively different to digital image capture.  For example, we know that Ansel Adams used film, and so this famous image by him (‘Half Dome, Blowing Snow’ – click it to go to the Ansel Adams site where you can buy a print), is a digital scan of a piece of tangible film – the very same piece of film that was actually at the scene where this image was taken, in Adams’ camera. In a very real sense, the film ’saw’ this scene, which we couldn’t say about digital cameras!  The conversion of the analogue image to digital loses something… and many people feel this also happens with digital cameras, which is why so many people – myself included – still like film so much.

We can see this more obviously in the cinematic context: I recently bought a DVD of ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’ – originally shot on film, of course.  However, it has now been scanned into a computer in order to make a DVD – a digital method of reproducing a film (or perhaps I should say: a film-like experience!).  As digital technology improves, the archived film strip will be scanned again and again to obtain ever higher resolution and improved sound… but the ‘negative’, if you like, is still a tangible analogue substance – ‘Real Raw’.

Although for day-to-day photography thinking about all this is perhaps largely irrelevant, I think it is important to always remember that images coming from a digital camera (especially so-called ‘raw files’) are like a negative, but are not the same as a negative, which is a different kind of process and a different way of recording images.  So David Rodowick is right, I think, to talk about ‘image capture’ rather than ‘digital photography’ in contrast to film photography.  But for all practical purposes, it is perhaps simply something to be aware of when choosing the medium for capturing a particular scene (‘how will this work best?’), rather than necessarily employing this language in the everyday context of creating images.

P.S. None of this is to say that image capture on a digital camera isn’t a form of art – it’s just a different way of doing it than happens with a film camera.

P.P.S. I think I now realise more acutely why I dislike Adobe’s use of the word ‘negative’ in the name for their archival format for the raw files generated by digital cameras: DNG, for ‘digital negative’.  Of course, I still use DNG for my digital images…!

Reflecting on my images

Jane, reflective

Jane, reflective

The main resource for viewing my images is presently my own website, but over recent weeks I have been adding more and more images to my RedBubble page (incidentally, this is also one of the reasons why I have not been writing here, though there are things to write about).  RedBubble is used for exhibiting and selling all kinds of visual art (and to a certain extent also literary works) – a kind of upmarket version of other photography sites.  In adding my images to this site, I’ve found myself editing some of them again, cleaning up and sorting minor problems, whether they are landscapes or portraits.  I’ve also rethought some pictures that I haven’t shown before, such as this beautiful colour version of a portrait of Jane I’d previously only shown in black and white – I now prefer this version.  It’s an interesting process: engaging with photographs that were taken a while ago, and thinking again about how they can be improved/best shown.  With both landscapes and portraits I find myself re-engaging with the emotions at the time they were taken – the mood of the time, the intimacy of the relationship with the model and so on (by the way, I’m now drafting a longer reflective piece on this theme which I intend to finish sometime next month).

For a while now I’ve been meaning to re-organise my website, and thinking about this reflective process is one of the factors that spurs that desire on: I think I want to show fewer images, and I want to update the ones that I have recently re-edited.  I just need to find the time to do this… a long journey somewhere with no distractions would be ideal, but I expect it’ll be mid-January before I get that (I’m going to the Middle East for three weeks in January/February).

In the meantime, please take a look at some of the art I’ve added to RedBubble – until the images on my website are updated, you’ll find the definite version of these particular photographs at RedBubble and not on my site.  Oh, and if you want to buy anything from my RedBubble page, feel free!!

Artistry

Yesterday I was raving to someone at work about the Torridon workshop, and in the course of the conversation I described my ‘art’ on RedBubble.  I paused, and felt quite self-conscious about describing what I do as ‘art’ – but it is!  Serendipitously, Bruce Percy posted some questions about art on his blog yesterday, which is eliciting some really interesting comments (ok, you might not think much of mine, but other people are writing very stimulating stuff!).

I assume Bruce’s questions connect to a beautiful film about Michael Kenna that appeared on his blog a few days ago.

Art and (imaginary) money

I’m very excited to have put selected photographs online for sale, at RedBubble.  Of course, nobody has yet bought anything, and I’m not about to give up the day job just yet!  But I am excited by it… you’ll notice that I’ve updated the column on the right to point to RedBubble, and my website does too (my website is soon to undergo a minor makeover, so that these things become a bit more obvious).

Doing this raises all sorts of issues for me about art, money and value, and at some point, I’ll almost certainly come back to these questions – perhaps when (if!) someone buys something from me.  Perhaps these questions are particularly interesting for me at the moment, after my last posting about the cost/value of digital camera equipment!

Torridon – the art of adventure photography part 4

After my previous posts about the Torridon workshop, I wanted to leave a little bit of mental distance and reflect on the weekend.  I’m actually finding this quite difficult!  It’s a week later, and Torridon seems like a very long time ago at the moment.  In an email exchange with Bruce today, I noted this, and he responded by saying:

Like you – I was thinking today that the Torridon trip felt like it was a lifetime ago.
I think that’s the sign of a trip that has affected you or changed you in some way, or perhaps just had some kind of impact on you.
I often feel like that after a good workshop, and more so when I return home from a really life changing photographic trip!

Too right, Bruce!  But I’ve been very busy with work this week and have had very little time to get out and take any photographs.  However, at the beginning of the week, I did stop on the way to work and sought to capture an impression of Stirling Castle from Bridge of Allan that I consciously felt to be quite different to previous images.  I was using my Nikon FM2 with Velvia slide film, so I don’t yet know whether the image will work, but even just the process of thinking about the framing and composition felt different… more… considered, if you like.  One of Bruce’s lines is that ‘to explore the world through photography, is to explore oneself’.  That is something I’ve felt more acutely than ever before as a result of this weekend: in relation to one of the critique sessions, I said I found the need to open myself to relative strangers quite difficult, though it is good, very good to do so…  I’m not sure I can say much more than this at the moment, but perhaps the fact that I’ve been reviewing old images for possible inclusion in a sales gallery is also indicative of an effect from the weekend – I feel much more able to be constructively self-critical of my own work, which is also a process of self-exploration.  Of course, as an academic, I do this all the time with my writing, and although I can discern similar processes in my assessment of photographs, the criteria and methodology of assessment and critical appreciation are somewhat different.

Bruce Percy

Bruce Percy

I want to mention the mysterious brown A4 envelope Bruce gave each of us as we were leaving (see my third post).  This is amazing: it contains a series of printed guides written by Bruce, as well as a CD with these tutorials on it AND a sample image from Bruce’s own work, showing pre- and post-processing.  Not only are these beautifully and clearly laid out, but they are also incredibly informative, with precise details and helpful guides and tips.  Not having known about these guides, I went and made notes on some of what Bruce showed us during the critical review sessions – but everything I noted down is contained here, and much more coherently written!  I’m sure Bruce could sell printed versions of these guides and people would love them.  Perhaps, one day, we can look forward to a book of Bruce’s images, along with inlays such as these (I love photo books and feel I learn a lot from studying other images, but would also like to see hints of some of the processes involved).  To give an impression of what is covered, here is a list of the contents (note that in complying with Bruce’s request not to distribute these documents, the image here is just a low-resolution screen capture of one of the covers of Bruce’s documents; clicking it takes you to Bruce’s site, not the document):

  • a document entitled ‘Bruce’s Approach’ (‘My aim is to try to realise the full potential of a location in such a short space of time’ – I couldn’t sum it up any better!)
  • an explanation of how to use Adobe Camera Raw etc. in the ‘Raw Conversion Process’
  • ‘Digital Darkroom Printing Techniques’ (for Adobe’s Photoshop CS4 and Photoshop Elements)
  • and 3 documents on understanding bit depth, exposure and monitor calibration.

A fantastic gift, on top of all that Bruce gave us of himself over the course of the weekend!

Overall, if I were to be asked to say one thing about the workshop, it would be: go on one yourself! Whether you’re just starting out or have been photographing for years, whether you have a basic camera (mine is the cheapest in Nikon’s DSLR range) or a top of the range full-frame colossus/medium format camera, spending time with Bruce will almost certainly improve your images.  He is a tremendously accomplished photographer, but far more importantly, he has a warmth and generosity of spirit coupled with a deep sensitivity and connection to his creative abilities – and he knows how to communicate all of this.  A great pedagogue, you will quickly realise you are also in the presence of a great artist who is willing to give of himself in sharing aspects of his photographic craft with you. And that is what really makes going on one of Bruce’s workshops worthwhile… I’m going to be saving up for a week-long course at some point (I just need to persuade the family they want to do this too!).