Here we are then, I've done it. I posted something every day in March. What was the point in doing that?
I didn't plan to do it. I was just writing a post and wanted to see if I could keep going all through March. So there was no agenda, no purpose really and that, for many people is what is wrong with blogs. Many have no point, nothing to say, boring content. But yet, writing a journal is seen as a great way of exploring ideas, a way of staying focused and motivated. So why not the same with a blog?
Well, a journal is private. A blog is for sharing. That fact alone alters the content in a blog from the more personal, reflective entries in a journal. In essence though, they both involve writing.
If you Google 'what's the point in blogging?', most answers refer to getting business or getting customers to your website to sell stuff. Other answers refer to sharing ideas, about communicating.
I started my blog to talk about photography - to explore photography and photographers. I soon realised that, like other creative people, I had 'flat' periods when I had no inspiration, no ideas, my mojo had gone. It was difficult to write enthusiastically about what I was doing in photography when I had essentially lost my confidence to produce anything remotely worthy of sharing.
I started to write about this lack of creativity which led on to inspiration and how to overcome a creative blockage. I soon realised I was not alone in feeling 'stuck', in feeling useless. The blog was good for getting that feedback.
At times the blog just became another place to share my photography.
Rarely did I teach anything. Rarely did I solve other people's problems (mainly because I don't have a big enough audience nor do readers see me as an expert at anything!).
I tried to start conversations by asking if what I'd written resonated with anybody or irritated anybody. Nine times out of ten, those requests for feedback were met with stony silence. What did I expect? I read blogs but seldom comment because, well, you know, we're all REALLY busy and time is precious.
So far, for the month of March I've had 2,401 views. I have a wee audience but they're a silent audience in the main. Perhaps that lack of comments, that lack of a conversation is why so many people give up blogging and turn to Twitter, for example, where conversations are regular and is, to my mind, Twitter's strength and purpose.
For me, blogging every day in March has made me realise that it is good to sit at the end of the day and jot done some thoughts about the day past, thoughts and maybe the odd idea or two. I'm going to try to do this and some of these journal entries may end up as a blog post. As I said in last night's post, I'm going to do a sketch every day in April. That sketch may just be a doodle but that doesn't matter. What matters is I sit down for a period of time and create something.
So, to conclude, why don't you try doing something (or stop doing something) every day for a month? Blog about it. Share.
And on the subject of sharing - they say you should leave your audience laughing:
It's good night from him, and it's good night from me!
You're probably familiar with this story about the letter Kurt Vonnegut wrote to a high school, but if not, here's the background.
In 2006, a group of high school students at Xavier High School in New York wrote to their favourite authors as part of an assignment, asking if they would visit their school. Vonnegut was the only one to respond, and while he said he would not be able to make a visit, his inspiring letter made up for it with with wit and charm. Here's a transcript of the letter:
Dear Xavier High School, and Ms. Lockwood, and Messrs Perin, McFeely, Batten, Maurer and Congiusta:
I thank you for your friendly letters. You sure know how to cheer up a really old geezer (84) in his sunset years. I don't make public appearances any more because I now resemble nothing so much as an iguana.
What I had to say to you, moreover, would not take long, to wit: Practise any art, music, singing, dancing, acting, drawing, painting, sculpting, poetry, fiction, essays, reportage, no matter how well or badly, not to get money and fame, but to experience becoming, to find out what's inside you, to make your soul grow.
Seriously! I mean starting right now, do art and do it for the rest of your lives. Draw a funny or nice picture of Ms. Lockwood, and give it to her. Dance home after school, and sing in the shower and on and on. Make a face in your mashed potatoes. Pretend you're Count Dracula.
Here's an assignment for tonight, and I hope Ms. Lockwood will flunk you if you don't do it: Write a six line poem, about anything, but rhymed. No fair tennis without a net. Make it as good as you possibly can. But don't tell anybody what you're doing. Don't show it or recite it to anybody, not even your girlfriend or parents or whatever, or Ms. Lockwood. OK?
Tear it up into teeny-weeny pieces, and discard them into widely separated trash recepticals [sic]. You will find that you have already been gloriously rewarded for your poem. You have experienced becoming, learned a lot more about what's inside you, and you have made your soul grow.
God bless you all!
Kurt Vonnegut
This is the first day of Spring - a time of fertility supposedly. Time to make a fertile imagination into a fertile creative period. As cabin fever bites after the long dark winter nights, time to get some release from containment. Time to 'experience becoming, to find out what's inside you, to make your soul grow'.
Some days I just want to go out and shoot anything at f1.8 - like this taken yesterday:
I found this plastic bag in bondage on a barbed wire fence intriguing.
Some days of late, I just want to see stuff through a cheap pinhole lens, just to see what it looks like - that's all. Like this gable wall of the steading at Ardoch:
Better still, leave it in colour. Most pinhole images - that is REAL pinhole images (which mine are not really) - are always in black and white.
As well as the cheap pinhole, I have a cheap plastic Holga lens and my mood of late is to take 'pretty' pictures with a messy, plastic lens. Most end up in the delete bin but some just about get saved due to happy accidents, like this one of Lochnagar:
None of this on their own means much but if I can add them all together in the right way for the right image, something may happen.
Hassles and issues at work this year has seen me in a real mood or mixture of feelings - mostly negative. I think there is a connection with my frustrated, negative mood and this desire to just get out with my camera and do stuff, like some form of anger release.
Anybody else experience this?
Does productive, creative work only happen when your mind is in a 'good' place?
When I decided to learn how to play the guitar, way back when I was a teenager, I did what many budding guitarist did and learned to play by copying my 'heroes'.
As a matter of fact, I still do. Recently, Yvonne wanted me to learn the Civil Wars' 'From this Valley' so she could sing along. Few hours later I was playing the song and she was singing along. Great fun and a sense of achievement.
During my drive to work this week I was wondering why I never approached photography that way? Why had I never studied a photographer who I admired and then tried to copy the image? Perhaps then, try to emulate the photographer's style? That could lead on to trying to work out what was the thinking/purpose behind the photographer's images? If I could grasp that then maybe I could move closer to my own thinking?
I just took photographs. It never occured to me when I was a teenager taking photographs to copy other photographer's work the same way I was copying guitarist's work when I was playing the guitar.
Odd that.
I do sometimes combine songs I used to play or can play on the guitar with one of my images, like the image above.
The title comes from a documentary on Henri Cartier-Bresson which I recently watched again. I'm looking back at photographers I admire to see what I can learn from them or what may inspire me to help me move forward with my photography.
Bresson's work is well known and he is often considered one the best photographer of all time. Watching the documentary again, it was interesting what lessons I actually took from it.
We all know that, 'decisive moment' phrase and his images are testament to the joy of geometry, when everything seems right and balanced. He had a questioning stare. He could sense there was an image there - it was just a matter of looking and waiting.
There doesn't seem to be any real, deep messages in most of his images. They are celebrations of beauty of form and emotions. He saw, he felt and captured that moment as everything 'clicked' into place.
He also often shot was amused him. That simple - he looked, saw aspects of life that amused him and he captured these at just the right moment.
His images aside, what I was inspired by as much as, if not more by, was the way he lived and embraced life. He was clearly deeply moved by classical music. Drawing and painting was a real passion and something he continued to do all his life. He read poetry and most of his friends were artists. He had a huge respect for maths and mathematicians. He lived one day at a time, grateful for all the joy and pleasure that day brought. His fantastic portraits captured his love for his friends and his respect for their talent and work.
The lesson I took from the Bresson documentary is to engage with life - all aspects of life; to be curious, always looking and questioning. Make more room for science, literature, poetry, music, theatre, art, friends and family - probably at the expense of photography - to improve my creativity and perhaps my photography.
I've talked about this idea before - that if you want to improve your photography, then embrace life more. But watching Bresson was like some kind of reassuring proof for me.
This is a subject that interests me a lot.
I've heard full time photographers talk about how they put up with doing commercial work so they can have some money to take a few months off doing their own,creative work. Most aim for getting about three months to themselves to be creative. It was hearing this that made me realise that, although I work full time in a job that is still regarded as one of the most stressful, teaching, I have 12 weeks holidays a year, ie three months!
Why couldn't I get more creative work done?
Well, it takes time to clear your head of work concerns, time to sit and think. Also, there are major projects I like to get on with at home - stuff that needs weeks of time. So it gets back to priorities and taking into account other people and your responsibilities.
The bottom line for me is, and it is this point that I think that separates those who achieve their goals and those who don't, work ethic. It is getting up off your backside and doing it whenever, wherever, no matter how tired you feel. It's that 10,000 hours thing Malcolm Gladwell talks about. As Nike said, just do it. But that means everything - work, family duties, social duties and being creative.
Procrastination, tiredness, apathy, be gone with you!
Strangely enough, I have never asked myself why I like her work. What is it about her images that I find so intriguing and interesting? After all, the photographs I take are nothing like her work.
I am finding it hard to put into words why I like her images.
I too take images of communities who lived on the edge - on the margins of civilisation, remote, far from amenities and facilities. Outsiders perhaps?
Yes, my images also contain ugliness and a lack of beauty but then we all know what they say about beauty.
I can't say I challenge the viewer as perhaps Arbus's work does, however I am trying to alter the experience of the viewer to decay, debris and to stuff that was once loved and admired but left behind. Some see Arbus's images as portraying people full of despair but I find them intriguing and remarkable. Her "deviant and marginal' people seem to be doing the best they could under some difficult circumstance, within a society that rejected their lifestyle and for some, rejected their shape, size and sexual orientation. Her images are, to me, full of energy and life, as well as compelling. Her work is raw, at times disturbing, unflinching but what an insight we get to a world we would never have seen otherwise.
There is no doubt you can feel like an intruder, a voyeur when looking at her work. Her subjects and the lives they led are almost 'run of the mill' these days, with TV programmes filling late night spots with 'embarrassing bodies' and the like. Looking at my images of someone else's home, albeit abandoned and in a state of decay, may feel like intruding and you may want to look away or you may get a feeling of foreboding - "what will happen to my home, to my 'stuff', when I'm gone?"
Many of Diane Arbus's images hold my attention but also make me want to look away and perhaps it is that conflict that, for me, makes her work so captivating.
So what can I learn from her work? Eric Kim asked the same question regarding his street photography. I have changed his blog post to consider rural exploration/abandoned communities instead of street photography:-
1. Go places you have never been
Arbus shares some of her thoughts: “My favourite thing is to go where I’ve never been. For me there’s something about just going into someone else’s house. When it comes time to go, if I have to take a bus to somewhere or if I have to grade a cab uptown, it’s like I’ve got a blind date. It’s always seemed something like that to me. And sometimes I have a sinking feeling of, Oh God it’s time and I really don’t want to go. And then, once I’m on my way, something terrific takes over about the sort of queasiness of it and how there’s absolutely no method for control."
I constantly read local history books and scour maps to find new places, never knowing what I'll find. The planning and the journey to find the abandoned place plays a huge part in my work.
2. The camera is a license to enter the lives of others
As Arbus explains: “If I were just curious, it would be very hard to say to someone, “I want to come to your house and have you talk to me and tell me the story of your life.” I mean people are going to say, “You’re crazy.” Plus they’re going to keep mighty guarded. But the camera is a kind of license. A lot of people, they want to be paid that much attention and that’s a reasonable kind of attention to be paid."
Documenting abandoned and disappearing communities deserves attention and my camera, my project, has got me into properties to capture the fading memories of lives long since past.
3. Realise you can never truly understand the world from your subjects eyes "You might have a certain intent when photographing, but the result can be totally different. Not only that, but what we may perceive as a “tragedy” may not be considered as a tragedy to your subject: And that has to do with what I’ve always called the gap between intention and effect. I mean if you scrutinize reality closely enough, if in some way you really, really get to it, it becomes fantastic. You know it really is totally fantastic that we look like this and you sometimes see that very clearly in a photograph. Something is ironic in the world and it has to do with the fact that what you intend never comes out like you intended it. What I’m trying to describe is that it’s impossible to get out of your skin into somebody else’s. And that’s what all this is a little bit about. That somebody else’s tragedy is not the same as your own“.
I feel many emotions in empty cottages, but they are really what I imagine it must have been like either to live there or how it felt to have to leave. They are only my emotions.
4. Create specific photographs “A photograph has to be specific. I remember a long time ago when I first began to photograph I thought, There are an awful lot of people in the world and it’s going to be terribly hard to photograph all of them, so if I photograph some kind of generalized human being, everybody’ll recognize it. It’ll be like what they used to call the common man or something. It was my teacher Lisette Model, who finally made it clear to me that the more specific you are, the more general it’ll be. You really have to face that thing. And there are certain evasions, certain nicenesses that I think you have to get out of."
More and more I am taking shots that, may not have the compositional appeal or be pleasing to the eye, but mean something to me. I may have been moved by something left behind or some part of the cottage may have brought back a personal memory - either way, the image I take on those occasions resonate with people much more than the bog standard abandoned cottage shot.
5. Adore your subjects “Freaks was a thing I photographed a lot. It was one of the first things I photographed and it had a terrific kind of excitement for me. I just used to adore them. I still adore some of them, I don’t quite mean they’re my best friends but they made me feel a mixture of shame and awe."
I think it is clear that I love local history!
6. Gain inspiration from reading
“Another thing I’ve worked from is reading it happens very obliquely. I don’t mean I read something and rush out and make a picture of it. And I hate that business of illustrating poems.
But here’s an example of something I’ve never photographed that’s like a photograph to me. There’s a Kafka story called “Investigations of a Dog” which I read a long, long time ago and I’ve read it since a number of times. It’s a terrific story written by the dog and the real dog life of a dog."
I think it is clear that to be a better photographer, it is important to embrace life, to get inspiration for many aspects of life be it reading, music, travel, walking, etc.
7. Take bad photos
“Some pictures are tentative forays without your even knowing it. They become methods. It’s important to take bad pictures. It’s the bad ones that have to do with what you’ve never done before. They can make you recognize something you had seen in a way that will make you recognize it when you see it again."
I am realising this more and more. The more I fail, the more I learn. But I can't fail if I don't get out and shoot. Of course it is crucial to understand what went wrong and how might that be fixed. Accidents are a different thing altogether.
8. Sometimes your best photos aren’t immediately apparent (to you)
“Recently I did a picture—I’ve had this experience before—and I made rough prints of a number of them, there was something wrong in all of them. I felt I’d sort of missed it and I figured I'd go back. But there was one that was just totally peculiar. It was a terrible dodo of a picture. It looks to me a little as if the lady’s husband took it. Its terribly head-on and sort of ugly and there’s something terrific about it. I’ve gotten to like it better and better and now I’m secretly sort of nutty about it.”
Oh, how I would love to have a picture editor! So important to go back over old work with a new mind.
9. Don’t arrange others, arrange yourself
“I work from awkwardness. By that I mean I don’t like to arrange things if I stand in front of something, instead of arranging it, I arrange myself”.
Very rarely do I move stuff around to make a better picture. I'm not sure why I have this approach. It could be that I want to show respect to the previous owners or that I feel it is important to show the property as I find it. The jury is still out on this one.
10. Get over the fear of photographing by getting to know your subjects
To overcome her fear of shooting junkies people in a park (who frightened her) – Diane would revisit over and over again, and found out over time she became less timid. Not only that but she got to know the people there, and asked for permission. This helped her feel more comfortable and photograph the people in the area.
I have overcome my feeling of intruding, my fear of been 'found out' and continue to work on my confident manner when approaching locals or when confronted by concerned individuals who want to know what I'm doing. Often the conversation ends in my favour when they tell me about other abandoned cottages.
11. Your subjects are more important than the pictures
Although Arbus was criticised much during her lifetime (and even now today) for seemingly lacking compassion – she certainly did care for her subjects more than the photos themselves: “For me the subject of the picture is always more important than the picture. And more complicated. I do have a feeling for the print but I don’t have a holy feeling for it. I really think what it is, is what its about. I mean it has to be of something. And what its of is always more remarkable than what it is.”
I have to give this one more thought because I think I amy be going in the opposite direction. Initially, it was all about the history of these abandoned glens and documenting them before they fell into even more ruin. Other photographers suggested I focus my work more on the details of the cottages, more on producing images that evoke emotions and memories. I'm trying to do this and enjoying the challenge but, to be fair to myself, I sense it will make me want to delve even deeper into the my interest, my passion, to hopefully produce better images.
Diane Arbus was not only a ground breaking and controversial photographer, but she also had deep feelings and emotions with and for her subjects. This clearly comes across in her photography. She followed her heart in her photography and took photos of subjects that not only interested her but felt compassion and warmth towards.
Going for a walk is never a waste of time. Fresh air, exercise, hopefully some sun and a dose of Vitamin D and time away from the screen and LCD. It also allows time to think and perhaps have the odd creative thought. Pursuing a creative urge, or just trying to achieve anything you desire, is a journey with a destination we long for and hope it will bring contentment and satisfaction. But often the destination fails to satisfy for any length of time - like the instant relief of removing your rucksack after a long walk. But you soon plan your next journey, your next 'fix' because you feel you could do more, do better, overcome your limitations and weaknesses.
As Shakespeare wrote: Things won are done; joy's soul lies in the doing.
Today I was walking up a track which had about 6 to 8 inches (20cm) of snow on it. Some people had been on the track days previously and had compacted the snow and their footprints now formed ice. I tried walking on the virgin snow but it was hard going so I went on to the footprints of the previous walkers. It was slightly easier but the footprints were not matching up with my stride so I kept slipping and wasn't having a comfortable journey. I was following in their footsteps but doing it to my stride. This situation made think back on a book I had just read.
In Austin Kleon's Steal Like An Artist, (yes, I know, I'm rather late to this party), he suggests, 'don't wait until you know who you are to get started'. You should just get on with being creative. Study and imitate those you admire and want to emulate; look at their motivations and inspirations to help inspire you. When you try to emulate your inspirations you will undoubtedly fail to create another Bresson, Arbus or whoever it is you're trying to emulate. But, and this was the interesting bit, it will be your failure to completely imitate your hero that will eventually help you find your path, your footing, your style, your voice.
Yesterday I went on one of my rural explorations of abandoned crofts - 'croft crawling' as I call it. Just as I was about to enter a ruin, I decided to try and imitate a photographer Rob Hudson who has been creating an interesting and fascinating set called Songs of Travel. I wasn't sure how he creates these images so I just tried 10 multiple exposures and moved forward at each shot. My results were nothing like Rob's but it did make me think about where and how I could use such a technique. Here's one of my efforts:
So I was trying to walk in Rob's footprints but not hitting his stride and failing. However, I was learning, I was having fun and I thought more about the technique for my situation.
Tomorrow I go back to work after a two week break and, as usual, I dread the thought of it and kind of look forward to it at the same time.
Like most people I love being on holiday. We live in a stunning location in rural Aberdeenshire. In 2012 we improved and modernised existing rooms in the steading (barn) attached to our cottage and this festive period has been even better with the luxury of the new living areas. I could quite happily work from this home!
As some of you know, I'm the Principal Teacher of History at a secondary school (12 - 18 year olds) and I get great satisfaction from teaching. I love my subject and the pupils make the job. They are often an inspiration to me. Yes, all of us in education face the continuous interference from politicians and so called 'experts' who force on us ever more 'new thinking' and 'new approaches' which can seem totally at odds with what your particular school and pupils actually need. But at the end of the day, it is a far preferable job to the one I did for 14 years in the oil industry.
So, returning to work brings things to look forward to and things that I could do without in my life.
But here's what gets me the most about the end of holidays - all the books and magazines not read; all the movies not watched; all the blogs and websites not read; all the walks not taken; all the photographs not taken; all the friends and relatives not visited; all the stuff still on my 'to do' list! Clearly I was unrealistic about what I could do during what is a busy holiday anyway. Worst still, there are so many distractions nowadays.
I'm currently reading The Pleasures of Reading in an Ages of Distraction by Alan Jacobs. A few years ago I was trying to speed up my reading but Jacobs explains why you shouldn't if you really want to get more from what you're reading apart from just uploading information to our brains without giving time to consolidate and consider the information. Reading will always seem slow if all you want to do is pass your eyes over page after page and tick the book off as 'read'.
However, reading slower will mean I will get through less pages before I'm distracted by Facebook, twitter, Flickr, emails, cats, the scenery, the need to get outside! Technology has brought 'intermittent reinforcements' as B.F Skinner calls it, into my life and to rid myself of most of them, I'll have to alter my habits. It's this 'sometimes reinforcements' that causes the 'addiction' to keep checking social media.
'The philosopher William James famously wrote of the "blooming, buzzing confusion" that constitutes sensuous experience for babies, who have not yet developed the filters necessary to organise that experience into discrete and meaningful units, but our daily technologies threaten to return us all to virtual babyhood"(my italics). [Jacobs, p.79]
Lately, I've been feeling this 'blooming and buzzing' has had an impact on my reading - not only the quantity but also the quality. My mind drifts much easier than it used to. This blog post is admitting my awareness of the 'condition' and how I want to do something to address the imbalance.
Essentially, I need to make it difficult if not impossible to go online for part of my day/week so I can get back to quality reading, studying, thinking and doing. Many years ago, I managed to stop smoking and drinking so surely I can do this? Jacobs talks about e-readers like Kindle which place emphasis on the text and 'hiding' the 'connect' command. ( I don't have a Kindle so can't comment on this.) So technology can be part of the solution, but I fear I may be too distracted still. I can't multitask, not because I'm a male; no, it's because none of us can, according to new research. Dave Crenshaw points out that genuine multitasking is impossible and a more accurate term is 'switchtasking'. We are really in a state of 'continuous partial attention'. Boy, does that describe perfectly how I felt much of the time in 2012!
At the moment, I'm still working on how to use social media and the internet to keep me informed, educate me, entertain me, promote me but not distract me so much. I will be 'experimenting' with possible solutions this year which may see me on Facebook and twitter a lot less but then again, ...
To be continued (and hopefully resolved).
Well done if you managed to read all this without getting distracted!
Funny how so much of 'new' music sounds like old music to me. Must be a part of getting older. Interestingly, the older the musician the more contemporary the music, e.g. Karine Polwart, Richard Hawley and Lau.
Some books that held my attention in 2012:
I read others and went back to old favourites.
I've mentioned Art and Fear in a previous post. It describes some very familiar traits! It does provide some good advice and points to consider:
'What you need to know about the next (image) is contained in the last (image).'
'...ideas are diluted to what you imagine your audience can imagine, leading to work that is condescending, arrogant or both. Worse yet, you discard your own highest vision in the process.' '...the world offers vastly more support to work it already understands - namely, art that's already been around for a generation...' '..the real question about acceptance is not whether your work will be viewed as art, but whether your work will be viewed as your art.' '....the audience is is seldom in a position to grant (or withhold) approval on the issue that really counts - namely, whether or not you're making progress in your work.'
'Outliers' by Malcolm Gladwell is worth a read. There are some gaping holes in some of the conclusions and analysis but it is thought provoking and helped to explain a few 'twists and turns' in my own life. I still need to work on my 'practical intelligence' I reckon! The chapter on why Asians are generally better at maths is very interesting. Also, the learning that goes on outside of school by students of more wealthy parents has more impact on attainment than I ever thought.
This morning, I was all ready to do a blog post about feelings just now and soon realised I can't better this and should move on.
Days are shorter and the harvest is in. Blogs are neglected.
How many blogs have you seen start a new post with apologies like: 'Can't believe I haven't posted anything for x weeks now!' or 'Sorry for not posting for so long', etc.? Well, I'm not going to despite weeks having past since the last blog post. Why post something when you have nothing to say? In my case, I've just been letting myself mull over thoughts and trying to make some sense of them. Anyway...
I've been experimenting with titles for my images. Titles I find difficult. Some say you should let the viewer create their own association/story looking at the picture. I can agree with that but a title can help to hint at the atmosphere of a place.
When I visit abandoned communities and cottages, I genuinely feel that sense of isolation, hardship, abandonment and loss. As soon as I enter a property I can almost see the husband and wife going about their daily routines, trying to keep it all together against rising rents, falling prices and the growing lure of the big city or abroad. Standing at the bedroom or kitchen window I can quite easily imagine how they felt or what might have been going through their minds at various stages of their life.
So I started to give images titles which were essentially the thoughts I had at the time of the shot. The reaction was generally positive which surprised me a bit. Have a look at some of these images here, here and here. Not sure this approach has much mileage though.
Another change I'm working on is how I organise my images. Initially I organised them by location because it made sense and I believed (and still do) that many people search for images of abandoned places by the name of the property or area. That's fine. But at a Scottish Photographers' meet up in Dingwall, it was suggested I organise all the interior shots together and make a portfolio of them. So for the next meet I quickly (last minute everything!) gathered a set of interior shots of places all over Aberdeenshire. The effect of doing this was instant. I saw a theme, a story, a body of work I hadn't fully realised I was creating! Yes, I'm that dumb. In a book I'm working on, I can see me including thumbnails on a page which could have a whole set of fireplaces or windows on it for example.
With such straight forward and useful advice, my approach to my photography has moved on a bit. I just wish I could meet up with more photographers and artists on a more regular basis. Something to work on for 2013.
Conversations on twitter have helped me stay focused on what I want to do and not be swayed off course by being affected by lack of views, comments, likes, favourites etc. Thanks to Rob and Lucy I've stayed on the bus.
And finally some images of a fortunate find. To locate abandoned properties I tend to read local history books, tour the countryside on my bike or in my car and scour maps at home. Some I find by chance when looking for another place and this particular cottage I found that way but better than that, it had some of the best and weirdest graffiti and art work I've ever seen in a ruin.
If you're wondering about the post title read this.
Recently, I changed the title of this blog from 'James Dyas Davidson Photography' to just 'James Dyas Davidson'. The reason I did that was because I asked myself what was the purpose in keeping the blog?
Well, way back, this is was the answer. Essentially it was recording my return to photography. Looking back I think, 'Who would be interested in that?' and of course nobody was. It was good to get my thoughts on 'paper' though.
Reading photography books and blogs, you learn that embracing life and following YOUR passions could make you a more consistent and interesting photographer. Great. That led to this post.
So you go and shoot your 'passion' and soon find many others have the same passion and do it better than you. You need to find your 'voice'.
But you get distracted by requests to shoot the odd wedding, events, promos, etc. You try the odd competition. You try to emulate cool stuff you see in magazines and websites. Essentially, you don't shoot your passion and you don't get the praise and adulation you thought you might and you hit the ground with a bump.
You start to worry again about technical stuff, your workflow and your post processing skills because compared to others, you suck.
Your off again on the right track for a while. It's beginning to all come together. Shame you can't do this full time perhaps? (At this point, for me, illness and time off work forced a rethink.)
Great, it's all sorted - you know what to photograph and why, you will remain a 'hobbyist' photographer and you're getting the hang of social media and websites. Positive feedback and comments begin to flow in you get some work requests. Oddly enough, not in the type of photography you shoot but hey ho.
Time to learn the history of photography, learn about the past masters and to see what has been done and how you could add to that legacy in your own small way. (Many of my posts in 2011 were about the history of photography.)
Your blogs posts get closer to what you want your blog to be but again, 'life' happens to you and you have to deal with other stuff.
You meet or read about other photographers who 'say something in their work' and reflect their age. You want to too, but what are you saying? what is your world about? You askaround.
Your thoughts about what part do you want photography to play in your life is a recurring thought.
You start to get annoyed with yourself for going round in circles and always promising to not go back over old ground or to stand still. One step forward to your goals - always.
But good God! here you are blogging about losing focus again and how you're not going to again!!
Then you listen to this and think, 'I am not alone. I am not a loser. Why don't more people talk about such things as fear, procrastination and self doubt?'
After all, don't we all feel like this?
So this blog is really about me, my struggles and what interests me, not just photography. Hence the name change.
At school, I did better in the Humanities subjects and art but was ‘persuaded’ to follow a science path because ‘there would be a better chance of getting a job’, which in reality was true. In my late twenties I had a bit of an early 'mid-life crisis '. I knew I was in the wrong profession and needed to get out of the oil industry, despite the good money I was earning. I did OK in the job I was in and became qualified in electronic engineering and applied physics but the company owned me and I was unhappy.
There was a ‘creative urge’ inside me that was being ignored. So I turned to self help books to see how I could move from one career to another. The good thing about reading these self help books, which many people mock, was I started to study with the Open University and gained my Honours Arts degree and got out of the oil industry, did a Post Grad Teaching course and eventually got into teaching.
I became a Principal Teacher and settled into that position, a job I love doing. But I realised I still wasn't satisfying the creative spark inside me that had been snuffed out by guidance teachers and adults who said art was a waste of time and something you can do when you retire. After a Diane Arbus exhibition in Barcelona a few years back, I decided there and then that photography would come back into my life.
The point I’m making here is I became a bit of a self help expert and came to the conclusion that 'Just Do It' is probably one of the best pieces of advice you can give anyone. Stop thinking and start doing - have no worries or fears. Making a complete mess of things was OK as long as you learned from it and progressed. I try to overcome that fear of failure by failing and the only way I can fail and improve is to just get on and try it. Each time I learn from my actions and efforts, my self confidence and self esteem increases (well, most of the time!).
I still struggle with this approach in some areas of my life, for example doing some DIY around the house like plumbing or car maintenance because the consequences can be a bit messy and costly to put right! However, for Lent 2012, I thought I would try hard to think less and do more. (I'm trying hard not to think about what a bad idea this is because I will probably fail!!) Wish me luck.
(Above is a picture I took of the Peel of Lumphanan last weekend. The Peel is difficult to photograph because it is hard to isolate the Peel from the surrounding countryside. I thought I had it when I saw the dusting of snow on it and none elsewhere. Sadly, I didn't quite execute this shot as well as I could have - a bit of a failed shot but I know why and learned from it.)
"The D4 is announced. I am convinced more than ever that my photography will improve in 2012 by investing in me and my passions than in gear."
I tweeted this today. It was, as they say, a wee 'light bulb moment'. Let me explain why.
In my previous post I sorted out my top 10 'advice to myself'. The top 4 were:
Know who you are.
Embrace life. It helps creativity.
Always have art in your world.
Shoot what interests you, your passions. Find your voice.
These sentiments mirrored something I remember reading. It was Scott Bourne's free e-book 'Visions' and, as ever, the most obvious, common sense advice can sometimes resonate the most and Scott's words of wisdom kept coming back to mind.
He suggested that when it comes to creativity, most limits are self imposed. It can hamper growth.
Try new stuff and fail with a purpose. Give yourself permission to fail so you can learn from it and eventually move on to a new level of competence. Experiment, jam, brainstorm - just as musicians, artists and writers do, so why not in photography?
Make experimentation, expression, authenticity, storytelling and joy the measurements of your success.
To tell a story in a picture I think you have to have a story to tell. You have to have an interest, a passion in what you're photographing. You need to know and understand why you're making the image. You must avoid trying to be 'new' or taking a shot to please others. You have to be you. It is therefore important to know who you are. What moves you, what angers you, what saddens you. Be engaged with life, embrace it and be a person you would like to know.
You may be thinking, "I know all this already"- well, so do I, but in 2011 I felt I didn't stay true to this due to distractions like gear, social networking and other 'side-shows'. In 2012, I'm going to try to make images that are authentic, tell a story and convey some passion.
Am I talking rubbish? Do you think differently and approach your photography in a different way? (I am, of course, excluding work done for clients which have a different set of criteria, often defined by the client.) Let me know your thoughts.
I started this photography blog in March 2009. The entries ended up being more sporadic than I intended. My excuse, as always, was ‘lack of time’. I’m a full time head of History at a secondary school, which is certainly no 9-5 job (or 9-4 as the dumb media portray), so it is usually a genuine excuse. I like being a teacher and will always give it my full attention. So how can I also satisfy the strong need I have at present to immerse myself in my photography much more than at present?
One answer is to be more focussed on what it is I want to achieve with my photography. I have no time to go back over ground already covered. That said, I will go back to ground covered but with a clearer, more purposeful eye. I may in fact, keep going back to one place, to one spot this year. I now see that, as well as perfecting my technical skills that bit more, I can only move on creatively if I thoroughly explore my immediate environment, my homeland. That will entail, not only devouring more historical knowledge, but being more aware of the current economic, political and social situation.
So, to start 2012 and to make sure I don’t keep going back over old ‘thinking’ any more, I have made a list of the advice and intentions I have already stated in my blog posts in an attempt to keep me moving forward as a photographer and a more creative person.
Know who you are.
Embrace life. It helps creativity.
Always have art in your world.
Shoot what interests you, your passions. Find your voice.
Don’t be concerned about what others think of your work.
That said, engage in conversations with other photographers. Network.
Always be learning. Get out of comfort zones.
Remember why you got into photography in the first place.
Keep on top of the ‘business’ side of things.
Be disciplined about archiving your work.
I’ll leave the final words to Bruce Springsteen who said this in his late twenties:
“...as you get older, you can end up in a life in stasis, shackled by memories and hurt. Old habits die hard and patterns repeat themselves and you can unintentionally let past disappointments effect your present and it can be difficult to move forward.”
I can't actually remember when and where I first came across Alex and his work. More than likely it was via his Flickr site where I saw his Sonnets series and I was impressed by what I saw. Very quickly, you sense Alex is friendly, helpful, knowledgable and passionate about art. He is an interesting guy, clearly talented, successful and doing a great job of getting his art seen. He his currently mastering the more fiddly and tactile aspect of photography - wet plate collodion. I wanted to get to know him and his art better.
I did some homework and I could quickly see that he had been interviewed in the past and had explained and answered many of the questions I would have started with here. So, readers, once you have read the interview with Alex, go back and check out these other links.
JDD: Wet Plate Collodion – why the fascination and interest?
AB: I had been familiar with ambrotypes, glass plate negatives and tintypes for many years through my work in museums, but had never thought it possible to actually produce this kind of work myself, although I was aware of contemporary artists like Sally Mann who had been working extensively in this process in the US.
It wasn't until I was asked to exhibit with the Scottish Photographers group alongside Carl Radford that I became aware that someone in Scotland was actively creating their own wet plate images. A few months later I had a chance meeting in Glencoe in the Highlands at the foot of Buachaille Etive Beag with Carl, and it led to us talking in more depth about wet plate, and he convinced me (without having to use too much persuasion) to become one of his students. During that weekend workshop I became convinced that this approach to photography was one which I wanted to pursue further - I had never become more emotionally invested in the creation of images before. Other than Daguerreotypes, I had never seen images which looked so visually arresting - wet plate portraits and landscapes have a tangible almost three dimensional quality to them.
Why do you want to make the process of photography more challenging?
I think that question is relative to the individual. As I've evolved as a photographer I've found that my methodology has taken on a slower, more considered approach. Instead of taking 300 images in one day, perhaps I'll make 3 or 4. I went from the sheer adrenaline of shooting gig photographs, to landscape photography, to very slow landscapes with long exposures, to collodion. It may change, but at the moment I'm largely uninterested in the quick fix of the digital image - I want the involvement that this process brings. For me making images any other way would be more challenging.
Why make photography less instant?
Wet plate collodion much like any other process is one which comes with strict limitations. It isn't just the cumbersome equipment itself which presents the biggest obstacle, or the chemicals, or the technical knowledge required to create images, but the whole reason of why I'm making an image in the first place. Collodion has really forced me to sit down and re-evaluate what I'm doing as an artist. Every image is therefore the end result of a rigorous cross examination process. I learned a lot from photographer and explorer Thomas Joshua Coopers approach to photography - he would travel to the most extreme edges of our planet with only a handful of glass plates, and this would force him to focus his mind on what he was trying to achieve. The downside however is that I'm not as prolific as I could otherwise be, but I'm happy to work at my own pace.
What are you hoping for from the results?
Introspection and inspiration. I don't know if I will be working with wet plate in 10 years time, but for now it makes sense. Maybe when I look back on this period I will understand more about myself and my choices. That would be enlightening, as now I have no idea!
Are you not just being trendy? Is it a fad?
The wet plate community has grown immeasurably in the last few years, which is no doubt why it may be perceived as being 'trendy' - due to the increased exposure it is receiving. This expansion has been in part due to the more widespread teaching of the process in Europe by people such as Quinn Jacobson, Kerik Kouklis or Carl Radford. It's also easier to get your hands on the chemicals required, but crucially it's access to the knowledge required to make your own images. For many years Collodion based photography was the preserve of a small group of wealthy middle class Americans, however in the last ten years all of that has changed as people have begun to share the secrets of their craft, and the price of workshops has dropped. At present I can't say if it's a fad or not, but I suspect not. It's very early in the rebirth of the medium and people for the most part are still finding their feet. As a result there are only a few established artists who are pushing the format forward in any meaningful way, but those who are will leave a long legacy.
I think wet plate collodion works best with portraits. You’re known for your landscapes. Can we expect to see more portraits from you in the future?
I've never really worked much in portraiture in the past so I don't really see why that would change now just because I'm using a different process. I would however agree with you that wet plate is ideally matched to portraiture due to its immediacy, and a survey of the modern community reveals that the majority are producing works of this type. When I was taught by Carl I too produced many portraits, however this was more to do with the workshop environment. To date I've largely eschewed portraiture altogether in favour of a return to landscape. That being said I have spent the last few months working on a project called Lux et Veritas which is based in portraiture - hopefully I can complete it in the coming year.
Does your recent wet plate work have any commercial potential?
It all depends on the viewer and the market I suppose, but it isn't something I'm particularly concerned with at present. My current project Low Lands is not as commercial as Sonnets, and it remains to be seen if the public or collectors will respond well to my new collodion work. My perception at present is that museum curators down to ordinary members of the public just can't get beyond the process itself to view wet plate collodion images objectively on their own merits. It's my hope that perhaps in a decade or so they will be able to view these images in a more considered way.
Do you wish you had been born in another time in the past? If so, when?
It's probably quite obvious, but I'd love to have interacted with the luminaries of the Fin de siècle such as Wilde and Whistler, or have witnessed Weimar society first hand, I'd like to have lived through the first wave of photographers who struck out from the UK to photograph the world, such as John Thomson or Alexander Gardner.
What part, if any, does your family background, your nationality and upbringing play in how your images turn out?
Growing up in Scotland I was acutely aware that my accent (which I'm still quizzed about on a near daily basis) and general worldview marked me out as slightly different. When I first moved to the UK I lived in several different places in the first few years, and found it hard to adapt to my surroundings when I finally did settle in Irvine on the Ayrshire coast. I generally rejected life on the west coast of Scotland and clung onto my German roots, becoming quiet and insular in the process. As a result of this I became fairly obsessed with ideas of self and identity, and my place in the world, and that has fed into anything that I've done subsequently. The Sonnets project is probably the most obvious example of this. I'm using a very clear motif from German art (the rückenfigur) to explore ideas of identity in some of the most well known landscapes in Scotland.
You appear to me to be someone with a clear and confident individual style and taste, not only in photography, but in music, film and literature as well. How did that go down with your contemporaries, at school say for example? Did you meet like-minded people at school/university?
When I was younger I tended to be more introverted, and spent much of my free time reading anything I could get my hands on. Whilst at school I was aided by a rather brilliant librarian called Alison Sinclair who managed to acquire anything I wanted to read . From Goethe to Gogol I managed to develop my own interests in literature, and was aided by a supportive English Teacher called Anne McGowan who first introduced me to poet Edwin Morgan, and a Mr Fleming who introduced me to Kurt Vonnegut. These influences coupled with my time in the Art Department learning about the great American landscape photographers really did give me the foundation from which to begin to create my own work. In respects to my contemporaries I think there was a lot of indifference to anything other than the here and now, but that was to be expected given life in a little town on the West Coast of Scotland. University of course was much different - it was good to meet people who had similar interests, but even better to find people who challenged my views and preconceptions.
How important is it for photographers to be with other creative people?
I think it's important that there is a constant exchange of ideas between creative people, and for photographers to create work which reaches out beyond the usual role that photography fulfills. Most of my own projects have come from being inspired by literature, film and from visual artists - I don't really want to repeat the work of other photographers.
You have exhibited in some high profile places; you have collaborated with some high profile people. How do you achieve that? What can other photographers start doing to market and promote themselves as successfully as you have done?
Once I left home I lived pretty much hand to mouth for many years. Some of the places I lived in leaked badly, and some had walls which had gone black due to damp and mold. I was constantly ill. I wouldn't have money for anything other than the most basic food. Living in those kind of conditions can really push you hard to want to succeed, and as much of a cliche as it is to be a 'poor starving artist' it did give me the motivation to get out there and make images. I was lucky to have the support of my wife, my dad and my friends, who amongst them helped me to get out to locations, model, and even move and hang entire exhibitions. As for high profile names, I made a list of people I wanted to work with and wrote to many of them. Sometimes it worked out*, and sometimes nothing happened. I had nothing to lose. The important thing was having the ambition to get out there and believe in what I was doing. Nothing much has changed in that respect.
What are your thoughts on the future of photography?
There will be an ever increasing demand for so called 'alternative' processes as photographers try desperately to mark themselves out as artists in the face of what they perceive as the soulless nature of digital. This misguided view, which I'm seeing becoming ever more prevalent, is producing a wave of increasingly dull imagery which hides behind the processes themselves. Beyond that I don't know - photography as a medium is generally losing its importance, but will always have the potential to communicate something vital to the viewer. That will keep it relevant I feel.
What would be the best thing anyone could say about one of your photographs?
I think the best reaction for any artwork is to inspire others to create their own. Praise passes quickly and in the end doesn't really stay with me - I just wish I could say the same about negativity, but I'm just happy that people are engaging with what I do.
Is there a photograph you wished you had taken?
There are many, but the one which immediately comes to mind is an image by Harry Benson of Willy Brandt taken in 1961 when he was Mayor of West Berlin, a city in the heart of crisis.
Its a deeply resonant image, and in it I see a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. There is a similar feeling in his image of exiled Russian author Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn. Benson really was the master of capturing such moments.
What question should I have asked you and what would your answer be?
Talisker Bay on Skye. That's where it all made sense.
I would like thank Alex for the time he took to answer these questions and for the quality of his answers. I hope you enjoyed this interview as much as I did. Feel free to comment and share.
This is my last day here on Skye in the Highlands of Scotland. A place renowned for its dramatic scenery and beauty.
My wife and I rent a house and have done so for a few years now. I have a set of photos taken on these trips here.
Another thing Skye has is artists of all kinds. There is a very vibrant artist community here. I, naturally, tend to go and visit the photographers who nearly all take landscape shots. This year I have been struck by how similar these landscape shots look- you know, rocks in the immediate foreground, loch or river leading the eye to the mountains lit by either the setting or rising sun, perhaps with some snow. A wee white cottage or a lone dead tree the icing on the cake. Personally, I've yet to capture such a 'perfect' shot and I have no doubt that if I could see one and I was skillful enough to capture it as well as these photographers do, I would take such a shot. But why?
Just to see if I can. Just because it is recording the beauty of the island I visit so often. People buy such pictures. And why not?
Not very original though and in a crowded, networked and technically advanced environment, how do you stand out?
How can you be original these days when there are so many competent and enthusiastic photographers out there (and the numbers keep increasing!)? I was thinking about this last night whilst watching a BBC4 documentary on the great Neil Young who is well known for experimenting, for exploring new forms of musical expression, for putting the music first. Even though one musical 'formula' was highly profitable and popular, it was not to be repeated as far as Neil was concerned - often with disastrous consequences, losing sales and fans. Neil was not trying to make his music popular or interesting, he was making music that interested him, that stretched him, that advanced his craft and got him out of a comfort zone.
Neil isn't short of a bob or two, so having talent, being true to your craft, getting out of your comfort zone and working hard can be profitable, even if you lose fans and friends along the way.
Bland, unoriginal music also survives and makes money - and so does bland, unoriginal art.
Is this how photographers make enough money to live these days - produce the 'goods' that sell but try to be original in your free time in the hope that some people may love your original and personal work? Probably. But I also wonder if other employment is needed such as running courses, giving talks and, who knows, some other part time work.
I enjoyed David Fleet's blog post this morning on the viability of being a landscape photographer (you can read it here, as well as my comment). His post, as well as the Neil Young documentary, inspired this rambling entry today. I hope you followed my train of thought and what I was trying to say. I've said similar things here, here and here.
Please feel free to comment, especially if you are a full time photographer.
