It’s not very often that I am out and about with my camera when it’s misty. This may be because we don’t seem to experience these conditions very often. Alternatively it could just be that I am too lazy to get up early enough to take some shots, and before the rising sun has had a chance to mess things up!
A few days ago we had a lot of rain and after a cold, dry and still night I was hoping that we might get some mist the following morning. We did, and for once I was mentally prepared. My wife and I, together with our dog, went out for a walk and I had my camera. One camera, my Monochrom; just my 50mm Summilux prime lens to keep it simple, and these are the images I was able to make. I hope you like them.
To view a larger version, just click on an image and it will open in a new window.
In a break from my own black and white photography, I am looking forward to seeing a retrospective exhibition of the work by Saul Leiter (1923 to 2013) at the Photographers’ Gallery in London. It starts this coming Friday, January 22nd, and runs until April 3rd, so there is plenty of time to plan a visit.
Nowadays everyone likes to think they are a street photographer, as everyone takes photographs on the street, so by definition they are a street photographer. That might be true to an extent, but simply taking photographs on the street doesn’t mean they make great photographs. Far from it in fact.
Saul Leiter was a marvellous photographer but widespread fame really only emerged in the 1980’s. Born in Pittsburgh in 1923 he moved to New York to be an artist, but in the 1940’s he started taking black and white photographs of his surroundings. For me and for many others he has left a legacy of some wonderful work. Although my passion is for mono, I particularly enjoy his colour photographs. Some of his most famous photos were shot in the 1950’s and 60’s. Rarely can the faces be seen, much is left to the viewers imagination, but the compositions and the use of shapes and colours are superb. There is both a painterly and almost semi abstract quality to his work.
I rather like this quote by the photographer himself.
“When we do not know why the photographer has taken a picture and when we do not know why we are looking at it, all of a sudden we discover something that we start seeing. I like this confusion.” Saul Leiter
In the year before Saul Leiter passed away, Tomas Leach made a film documentary called – ‘In No Great Hurry’ – 13 lessons in life with Saul Leiter. It was filmed as Saul Leiter drank coffee and tried to sort through a lifetime of photographs piled high in his New York Apartment. For those who are interested there is a short trailer below. I have yet to watch the film but I will definitely do so before visiting the exhibition.
I’m no street photographer, nor do I take many colour photographs, but if like me you can appreciate and be inspired by the work of a great photographer or artist, then I would suggest you try and find the time to visit The Photographers’ Gallery. Saul Leiter was in no great hurry, but I for one can’t wait to visit this exhibition.
My last post gave a description of Cwmorthin slate quarry and included a number of photographs all taken in the lower section of the valley. You can read this entry here. The upper section is reached from the valley by walking up a fairly steep and long path, but it is well worth the effort. Here there are the remains of more buildings, old machinery and large pieces of slate, set into the ground like tombstones; memorials for the miners who once worked here and gave their lives to this dangerous industry.
A note about processing – This post and the one before it, have a total of ten images all were taken on the same day in similar light and depict the harsh and rather bleak environment of Cwmorthin slate quarry. When grouping images such as these together, I recognise the importance of consistent processing to produce a harmonious set of images. However these photographs were not all processed at the same time. Some were done many weeks ago, others more recently to complete the set. Initially there was a lack of consistency in my approach. I had not used a particular preset, so I found it more difficult to achieve the look I wanted. Having compared and then tweaked all the images, I finally applied a split tone, as I felt this was warranted. In my view it would add something to the look and feel of the photographs, with the aim of reflecting the atmosphere of the location.
Cwmorthin Quarry – a bleak and now lonely place – previously a place of great activity, endeavour and danger, as miners went about their difficult and very physical work in many miles of dark, wet tunnels below the surface. As I sit at my desk in a warm, well lit room, with a hot cup of tea for sustenance, typing these words on a Mac keyboard, I find it very hard to imagine what life would have really been like for the people who lived and toiled here many decades ago.
Cwmorthin is a substantial Victorian-era slate mine above the village of Tanygrisau, close to the town of Blaenau Ffestiniog in North Wales. Having left my car in a small car park, I together with a few other photographers walked up a fairly steep incline until we reached Llyn Cwmorthin, a lake overlooked by some derelict buildings which at one time were the barracks for the mine workers. Work on the mine first began in the early 1800’s, with heavy underground development starting around 1860. Some access to the mines is still possible but I for one was very happy to stay above ground, take in the atmosphere, and try and reflect my feelings for this harsh environment through my photography.
Although mine workings largely came to an end in 1970, some small scale mining still took place in the 80’s and 90’s eventually ceasing altogether in 1997. Flooding in mines was always a problem, so large pumps were used to remove water from the many miles of tunnels on a number of floors. Wall and roof failures were a constant hazard for the mineworkers and it’s of no surprise that numerous chambers have collapsed preventing access to large parts of the mine.
The photographs in this entry were taken either by the lake or along a wet and stoney footpath, lined by a slate fence, which took us past a chapel with only a pair of conifers for company. Sadly the roof had been removed from the chapel in fear I guess that it might collapse and be a danger to visitors. Later we climbed a long and fairly steep path to the upper section of Cwmorthin Quarry and this will feature in a future entry.
It’s been a little while since I posted an entry relating to my Churches Project. This is partly because I have spent a lot of my spare time recently processing and then posting images which were taken in Snowdonia. But it’s mainly down to the fact that I just haven’t found the time to visit and photograph any new churches!
This church is St Swithin in Launcells, Cornwall. It is an unspoilt country church dating back to the 15th Century, set in a wooded valley just inland from the coastal town of Bude and only a few miles from the Devon border.
Sometimes when I visit a church for the first time a particular feature strikes me above all others and this was certainly the case when I visited St Swithin. As I set foot through the main door my eye was instantly drawn to all the Tudor pews and their quite remarkable carved bench ends. The first and last pews are also carved on the front and back respectively, whilst the other rows are all decorated at each end. They are all different and depict a variety of biblical stories. I didn’t have the time, but many an hour could be spent trying to interpret each set of carvings. Sir John Betjeman described them as being the ‘finest bench ends in Cornwall’ and who I am I to argue with that.
The other fine feature was the old and well used Bible which perhaps unusually was illustrated with some fine drawings. The good book was open at the Gospel of Mark and the picture shows Christ ‘giving sight to the blind’.
Oh how wonderful it is to have vision, not to look in to the future but to be blessed with sight – to see and appreciate things in the present moment. To be able to witness and admire at the first hand the fine craftsmanship of those people, who back in the 15th and 16th Centuries used their skills to create something which some 500 years later can still be enjoyed today.
alan frost photography 