Posts tagged ‘Thoughts’

Eight years apart ….. different moments in time.

There is almost exactly eight years between these two images. The latest image (above) was captured on the 3rd January 2025 and the earlier image (below) on the 22nd December 2016. Clearly both photographs are of the same scene but they are very different. You may want to spend a few moments comparing the two images before reading my own thoughts and observations.

This scene of Chichester Harbour is one I know very well. It’s on a section of path on the eastern side of Fishbourne Creek, between the villages of Fishbourne and Dell Quay in West Sussex. The earlier photograph is one of a collection of images of Chichester Harbour which make up a body of work I titled ‘Still by the Water’. You can view the other images here.

Although the photograph captured just a few days ago is similar to the image of 8 years ago, there are a number of important differences and as a consequence the feel and narrative of the picture has changed.

Both are wintry scenes – one is a bright, cold, frosty but clear morning. The other a misty day with much softer light, which has given some tonal separation between the group of trees in the background and the main subject – the kissing gate.

The group of trees also appear further away than they did in the original image. There is a simple explanation. The earlier image was captured with a 50mm lens, whilst a 35mm lens was used for the image taken a few days ago. When I set out I had no intention of trying to recreate the older image and I only had the one lens/camera combination with me.

My position for the composition has changed out of necessity. Nature in the form of brambles now occupy the ground where I had stood 8 years ago. The footpath sign has been moved and now only has two fingers whereas it previously had three. Nature has again played its part. The sea has eroded sections of the sea wall so one branch of the footpath has been closed and further erosion is inevitable as each winter storm takes its toll.

As well as the light being very different there is an added element to the more recent composition – the prominent spire of Chichester Cathedral. It may be very small in the frame but its placement draws the eye and creates a new narrative, which in my view is made up of four elements.

Firstly the kissing gate which is beautifully illuminated by the early morning light. It encourages me (or the viewer) to walk through the gate, to continue along the path and the journey. There is a feeling of hope as the early morning sun rises at the start of a new day and the beginning of a new year.

Secondly the signpost offers a simple choice of direction along the pathway; which way to continue, left or right? We all face choices in life and we don’t always know the consequences of the decisions we make.

Thirdly the post could be viewed as a cross and the upright section of wood is pointing to the Cathedral Spire. A suggestion perhaps of another but altogether different journey?

Fourthly the unseen changes to the landscape; the eroding sea wall and nature taking back the land on which I once stood. These elements aren’t visible in the frame, but they are reminders that whilst a scene may on first glance be very similar, change is inevitable and given the passage of time nothing stays the same. From one day to the next the weather and lighting conditions will change. Even in the space of a few minutes the sun will move; the direction of light will alter and in this instance the frost will start to thaw.

In photography we are simply capturing a moment in time which is never to be repeated.

This is my first post of 2025, so I would like to thank all of you who follow this blog, particularly those of you who have ‘liked’ or made comments in the past 12 months. I always appreciate your feedback.

Wherever you may be, may I wish you a happy, healthy and peaceful New Year.

My heart is in mono….. and in the countryside

In the latter half of last year I made a conscious effort to make images in colour and not in black and white. Monochrome had been my default creative choice for many years, in fact for nearly a decade. Whilst some of the images I made in colour pleased me, I was finding it increasingly hard to motivate myself to make more colour pictures. As a consequence the past few months have proven to be a very lean period. I even had one kind follower asking me if I was okay? Rest assured I am fine, but photographically speaking I can only admit to being in something of a creative rut.

A change of tack was required. In more recent weeks I have been out in the countryside near our home in Dorset with the sole intention of making black and white images. Whether overcast and dull, or bright and sunny, the camera has recorded what has drawn my eye. I had no high expectations. This was not about making prize winning pictures, nor even ones which would be added to one of my galleries at a later date. Quite simply this was an exercise to teach myself to see the world in shades of grey again, and in the process to make a few images which might rekindle my love of photography and in particular the genre which has been the core of this site.

Was it a success? 100% yes. I not only immersed myself in the beauty of the countryside but I made images which in all likelihood had they been in colour would have done nothing for me. In life you have to try new things and although I can still see myself making some colour images, if I am being completely honest with myself, my heart is in monochrome. The creative medium I discovered back in 2011 which has given me so much pleasure ever since.

Why monochrome I ask myself? Is it the timeless quality of mono? Almost certainly. Is it the greater freedom of creative choices? Again yes. The removal of colour instantly renders an image unreal, an abstraction of the world from how we normally see it. Different processing techniques can evoke feelings and expression in a way which may not always be possible in colour. That’s not to say that colour doesn’t have advantages over B&W, it certainly does but for the most part it’s not for me. Colour is a distraction and if I look at two images of the same subject, one in colour the other in black and white, almost invariably I will find the monochrome version more pleasing. It’s all down to personal preference as we all have different tastes. Wouldn’t the world be a boring place if we all liked the same thing?

What else did this experience teach me? Whilst I have often advocated, but not always practiced, the maxim ‘always carry a camera’, in the hope that something might draw my eye, there is really no substitute for going out with the intention of making photographs. Yes of course some days will be more productive and rewarding than others, but looking isn’t the same as observing and to find strong compositions in good light takes time and concentration. Sherlock Holmes famously said; “You see, but you do not observe. The distinction is clear.” There is another benefit to this more considered approach to image making – I appreciate the beauty of the countryside so much more. I stop to not only observe, but also to listen and absorb the very nature of my surroundings. I am all too aware that I can miss photo opportunities if always on the move.

There is another advantage to being out and about with a camera to take photographs as opposed to going for a walk and taking a camera. There is clearly a priority of purpose. It might also be deemed to be practicing, which doesn’t always make perfect, but I do strongly believe practice can enhance your good fortune. It has been said many times before, but the saying “The harder I practice, the luckier I get” holds true for many pursuits in life.

Similarly Henri Cartier-Bresson said – “The first 10,000 photographs are your worst”. In this digital age that number could easily be increased 10 fold. Not only will practice increase your chances of a successful outcome but you will become more familiar with your camera, lens choice and other equipment, further enhancing your technical skills. I will freely admit having to re-learn which actions I had assigned to certain function buttons when I went out the other day!

I doubt that Ansel Adams would have gone out for a walk in Yosemite with his view camera and large tripod purely in the hope that a scene worthy of capture might appear in front of him. After all he wanted to make images, to indulge himself in his love of photography and to fully appreciate the majesty of the world around him. I think it entirely appropriate to say that he was a photographer first and not a rambler with a camera!

I have enjoyed writing this entry whilst sharing some of my thoughts and recent images with you.

From now on, it’s back to my first love of monochrome, and images of the countryside which I am very fortunate to experience.

Thanks for reading.

The rush to share….. or is patience rewarded?

In this day and age when instant gratification is the order of the day there is a tendency to share our images on social media without a moments hesitation, particularly if you think you have a ‘keeper’ on the memory card. I can be as guilty of this trait as anyone but I am trying to be more patient before uploading to Instagram or indeed this blog.

I have a quiet admiration of photographers who return from a shoot, download their images but then wait several weeks or even months before processing the files. Their reasoning is that as each day passes they become more detached from the actual event of taking the photograph and their memory of what they saw changes with the passage of time. As a consequence when the moment comes to process the images their approach is different to how it might have been if they had processed the photograph almost immediately after the picture had been captured. The final result can be an image which is more likely to reflect what they think they saw and how they feel, not what they actually saw. This is an important difference in the art of picture making.

I believe there are benefits to be had by proceeding more slowly even if waiting weeks or months is outside the realms of possibility for me at the moment. I don’t possess that degree of will power.

Take the image which accompanies this post. A dramatic depiction of Racton Tower, a subject which I have photographed on previous occasions. As I start down this road of making colour images I am already becoming increasingly aware of how subtle and not so subtle changes in colour can influence the look and feel of an image, not to forget of course all the other tools we have at our disposal.

I therefore decided to spend more time than usual on this image. I processed a number of different versions over several days followed by a review a day or two later, I compared one with another believing I would benefit from this approach. What did I like and what did I think worth changing to improve the picture. It hasn’t take weeks but it has been a much slower and more considered process.

I am pleased with the final result. As it happens it’s not so very different to the first version I made but it does include some enhancements which only became evident by giving myself the time to stand back, observe and be more critical. I like to think my patience has been rewarded and not just because I have made an image which pleases me, but because the process itself has been a more enjoyable and enhanced learning experience.

Lone Marker Post – a metaphor perhaps?

This shot was taken 9 days ago at West Wittering. A day or two later the beach car park was closed and access became more difficult. We need to drive to this location so it’s now out of bounds and is likely to be for some time to come.

This marker post is I think a rather poignant reminder of how we might be feeling at the moment.

Alone and separated as the waves of change ebb and flow. A dark sky hangs overhead but there is light on the horizon. Our lives have been put on hold, our daily habits altered, we can no longer visit friends or loved ones. But we have been given a new found ‘space’. We now have time to reflect and consider what is truly important in our lives, which in the ‘rush’ is all too easily forgotten.

Starting to see again…..

Moody Prinsted for wordpress

If you read my last post (Photographic Purpose?) you will know that I have taken very few images in recent months. There are lots of reasons but there is one factor – I wasn’t seeing anything to photograph. Even if did see something I wouldn’t have a camera with me, with the possible exception of my old iPhone of course.

Photography is like any creative hobby, you have to keep practising and it’s very easy to get out of the habit of taking and making new images. You stop looking partly because you don’t expect to see anything and over time the brain no longer sees pictures. It becomes a vicious circle and the longer this situation continues the more difficult it is to break what has become a destructive habit.

I used to play a lot of golf but to keep my handicap down I needed to play regularly. If I didn’t play for a few weeks then my game would suffer. However one good strike during a round would help to restore my confidence and inspire me to play more.

Photography is no different. The above image was taken yesterday and during processing it immediately reminded me of the great moody black and white landscapes by Don McCullin. A photographer whose work I very much admire.

I find this one image quite inspirational, not because it’s a great image, it isn’t perfect by any means. But because of what it represents. The fact that I am ‘starting to see’ again and as importantly want to reach for the camera when a scene unfolds before me.

The fact the camera was my old iPhone 6 doesn’t matter, although I am constantly amazed how much processing in Photoshop can be done before the image starts to degrade. Yes, I would have preferred a more detailed file to work with, and there are elements of the composition which could have been improved had I stopped to think about what I was doing.

Nevertheless each new image I take is a step back to where I would like to be – taking, making and sharing new images on a regular basis.