Behind The Moon, Beyond The Rain

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Starting next Monday (the 15th of April), visitors to the Carlisle Photo Festival will be able to see a number of my images included in their Making Waves exhibition. For those of you unable to make the trip, here are the images which were approved by the selection committee, along with my essay which will appear in the exhibition catalogue.

Some 70 years after the Technicolor musical The Wizard of Oz was released, the film earned UNESCO status as a ‘memory of the world.’ Many of my fellow Kansans must have sighed in frustration at the news as it seems we are to be linked forever in the public imagination with a medicated Judy Garland in pigtails with a picnic basket. The film depicts Kansas as an unhappy place frequented by tornadoes: imagery perpetuated by Oz The Great & Powerful. This notion that Kansas is brown and boring is entrenched in the world’s collective psyche, which is a bit like thinking that Atlanta still smoulders after being razed to the ground in Gone With the Wind.

My parents first showed me how to load film into their Brownie Starflash when I was five or six. I grew up on a farm and cameras only came out for vacations and celebrations to capture one or two moments. My photographic approach remains one of studied observation: taking the time to find a unique angle, waiting for the best light or lingering until a special moment can be captured. Most of my subjects are buildings, landscapes and streets: places that look much the same from day to day except when carefully framed, exceptionally lit or enlivened by an interesting subject. Today I continue to use film cameras as well as digital ones, sometimes together (I often use vintage lenses, pinhole attachments or even a kaleidoscope with my DSLR).

Fifteen years ago I moved from Kansas to England, but I remain fond of my home state and return when I can to visit friends, connect with family and reconnect with myself by driving down long dirt roads at random. Kansas is vast: the state covers an area equal to England and Scotland combined, yet has fewer than 3 million residents, which leaves many empty acres for exploring in near solitude. For all the spaces to survey, these particular images were taken only a few miles from where I was raised, at a state park and reservoir that I had visited many times as a child but which was closed for the winter. I am a bit wary to share them as they reinforce in part the stereotypes most Kansans are keen to avoid, but perhaps some stark beauty and notable shapes can be found amid the otherwise near-featureless landscape. Let’s not forget that little Dorothy spends all her time in the fantastical world of Oz only wanting to go home, to Kansas.

Dreams can come true

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I was revisited last night by a recurring dream. As always, the dream involved a beautiful photographic opportunity and a camera that wouldn’t work!

Each time I have the dream, I am aware of a perfect lighting situation that has me reaching for my camera. Sometimes I can’t find my camera. Other times I’m distracted or delayed and miss the opportunity to take the photo. Usually it’s a sunset that promises to be stunning which I’m wanting to capture, but in one variation of the dream I oversleep and awake in the dream to find I have missed the sunrise. On most occasions in the dream when I do succeed in finding my camera and positioning myself in the perfect place, the camera fails to respond.

Last night’s dream started out no different. It was minutes before a sunset in the countryside and beams of light had broken through clouds which were towering above the horizon, casting rays onto the hills and fields below. I could see the light glinting off each individual backlit blade of grass, it was that vivid.

For a change, in last night’s dream I had my camera in hand, but it had the wrong lens attached. I swapped for a wide-angle lens, but something got in the way and the lens wouldn’t mount correctly. All the time I could feel the frustration welling up inside me while the light kept changing. I brought the camera to my eye and suddenly noticed that someone had driven their car out into the field, mowing down the grass and ruining the view.

It’s a classic performance anxiety dream (or nightmare, if you like) and like most dreams, it has its basis in real life experiences. Over the years there have been occasions when I have regretted not having my camera to hand, realised that I have left my battery for it at home or have had the battery go flat and not had a spare.

I also remember once in London becoming entranced by the light reflecting off St Paul’s and onto the windscreens of the double-decker buses driving up the street towards the cathedral. I took a few snaps and thought the effect deserved a different lens. I took off the lens – and out popped a piece of my camera’s internal mechanism!

Cue frantic calls to directory enquiries, a dash to not one but two camera shops (after the nearest one proved to be no help) and pleas to a clearly overworked repairman that I needed to jump the queue and have my camera fixed that afternoon as it was London’s Open House when many of the city’s most beautiful and historic buildings are open for one weekend only. All credit to Sendean Cameras for their expert repair, although I soon sold the camera because the repairman said it was a common fault in that particular model and my heart could not take a repeat performance.

Here is one of few the photographs which I managed to take in London right before catastrophe struck.

Reflection

One interesting thing about recurring dreams  I find is that that I can take conscious efforts to make a change to the pattern. That is, a part of my mind recognises that this is a dream that I’ve had before and there is a measure of control I have over it. For instance, another recurring dream I have involves me standing on the precipice of high cliffs or atop mountains, my fear of heights building up inside me. After many, many dreams of standing fearful at the edge, it finally dawned on me that it was only a dream and that no harm would come to me. Sometimes I find my dream self stepping off the edge, knowing that I will fly, not fall.

And so it was that last night my photography nightmare took a hopeful turn for the first time. After all attempts failed at capturing the mighty sunset and the wider landscape, my attention in the dream was turned to a fence and rusting gate right in front of me. In my mind’s eye I could see every paint fleck caught in raking light. My camera zoomed in to capture the texture in perfect detail and I began merrily snapping away in my dream.

I woke up deciding it would be a good idea to review some of my sunset photos and remind myself of all those times when things have worked in my favour like a dream.

Learning a lesson

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About a week ago while I was on my way to the shops, I noticed that some hoardings had gone up next to a group of vacant homes which are due for renovation. The bare boards had been there maybe a day or two at most, but already someone had spray-painted on them with the words City 6, Scum 1 referring to the score in the local football derby in 2011 when Manchester City trounced Manchester United, at United’s home ground no less. It was the first time United had conceded so many goals in over 90 years; for at least one person in the neighbourhood, it was the single most significant thing worth broadcasting.

That particular day was cold, windy and overcast: not the best day for a photo, never mind backtracking to fetch my camera. Another day, I said to myself. Another day later and I found myself walking past the hoardings again. Overnight, someone had tipped a bucket of paint over the offending graffiti and scrawled their riposte United 19, Scum 2 referring to the number of league titles won between the Manchester teams. I really must come along with my camera, I thought.

And so when the sun did come out a day or two later and the camera battery was fully charged up, I returned and found this:

A white wallA white wall, the featureless and sterile surface of which at the time was momentarily scribbled upon by only the shadows of tree branches. Initially I was disappointed and kicked myself for missing the earlier opportunity, but this got me looking at other silhouettes cast nearby by the afternoon’s low raking light and an entire collection of images soon followed.

Have you ever missed a prime photo opportunity? Did you learn your lesson and go on to create even better photographs?

Stones, bones and bronze in Rome

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Surely one of the reasons Rome is known as the Eternal City is because of the vast number of marble statues to be found in the Italian capital. I found in most museums on a wet winter’s day that the sheer quantity of these stone citizens exceeded the number of visitors. This is a continuation of my Face to Face in Rome series, but here the element of human interest has been carved or cast, with empty eyes staring into space for eternity.

 

Face to face in Rome

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I have had the recent luxury of going from being a ‘free time’ photographer to becoming a full-time one. For the most part to date that has meant organising, editing and promoting photographs I have already taken. Building my audience, expanding my online presence and finding my voice, I like to call it. Sitting on the laptop all day and getting eye strain, others would say.

I must be honest, I haven’t taken a single new photograph since leaving my office job, nor have I earned anything from my imagery or imagination (aside from the 60p or so my travel blog ‘earns’ from Google ads each month). When I do manage to tear myself away the laptop and venture out into the world, I often find myself at a photography exhibition in search of inspiration.

One thing that I have learnt from these visits to galleries across the country is that photographs with an element of human interest will probably live far longer in a person’s memory than anything that is merely scenic. In my opinion, a pretty view cannot compete with the landscape of the human face. With his realisation in mind, I am forcing myself to include more people in my photographs, either as the main subject in a studio setting or as a happy chance encounter on the street.

Here are more images from Rome, this time featuring some of the interesting people I spotted in this fascinating city. What do you think, does including some human interest make a photograph more memorable?

A sneak peek

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Over at my other blog, Redbeard Travels, you may be interested to know that I am busy sharing my travel diary after visiting one of Europe’s capitals of cool. Called home by famous artists like Picasso and Dali, it is largest city on the Mediterranean.

Need a hint? Here are some photos to give you a small taste of what to expect, but be sure to click on over to Redbeard Travels to read my firsthand impressions and personal recommendations about this beautiful city.

Colours of Rome: tutti frutti

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To bring my ‘colours of Rome’ theme to a close, I thought this would be a good way to assemble the last few stragglers which I wanted to feature. Plus, it reminds me of gelati. Mmmmmm…gelati….

Going through my photos reminded me that my next galleries should feature ‘faces of Rome’ so click back again soon for a selection of more images.