Thoughts – Dave's Place

Times they are a-changin’

There’s been a lot of noise on social media regarding the ever-rising costs of film photography. Some of it is attention seeking; click-bait from the keyboard warriors. Some of it is genuine concern at the way prices in many cases seem to be far outstripping the headline inflation figures. Very little of it is evidence-based, much indeed is just rehashing what others have already parroted. Some of it though is well-informed, considered and a reasonably sober consideration of the situation.

Some of the noise I, rightly or wrongly, feel I can dismiss as simply attention seeking – I’M DONE WITH FILM! NO MORE FILM FOR ME! I’M GOING DIGITAL! FILM IS DEAD! [insert company name] ARE KILLING FILM PHOTOGRAPHY! FILM’S DEATH KNELL! THE END IS NIGH!

I’ve absorbed multiple price rises in the last few years and being honest these latest will mean a slight change in my behaviour (more on this later). Much of this change though is driven by factors other than price.

Take colour photography. For many years I’ve mainly used digital for colour photography. Yes. Digital. I’m a photographer and I don’t feel the need to differentiate between film and digital; it’s the end result that matters. In truth I don’t choose to use film because I think it’s the easiest choice. I probably do it partly because it’s not the easiest; I’m a born contrarian as my family will attest. I use film because I enjoy the whole process, from choosing which camera, which film and because I mainly use manual cameras (I’ve never seen a fully automatic wooden pinhole camera) choosing which aperture and shutter speed settings. I find film cameras more tactile, the act of winding on seems like a full stop to each individual exposure. I enjoy experimenting with different developers and find developing films a very therapeutic activity. I don’t enjoy digitising the files but do enjoy occasional darkroom time.

But. Colour. Sorry, rant over, I distracted myself there. I am by inclination and as an aesthetic choice primarily a black and white photographer. Film lends itself well to this aesthetic. I am also slightly colour blind and occasionally have difficulty in judging accurately the colours in an image added to which my eyesight is deteriorating too. Take the two considerations together, aesthetic choice and eyesight, add in how much I enjoy using my film cameras and then it’s no surprise that 90% of my photography over the last few years had been with black and white film. I do enjoy using colour occasionally, indeed I used to develop my own C41 colour films, but these days I send colour films away for processing.

Looking at my developing book for last year I see that I exposed 135 rolls of film. A considerable reduction on previous years but we’ll return to that. Of these 135 just 10, or 7%, were colour. 2022 saw a 35% reduction in my film usage overall compared to 2021. This trend is likely to continue partly because of financial considerations but largely because my way of working has been evolving. I’m not alone either it seems.

“I am now extremely comfortable in the realisation that I no longer feel the need to be constantly exposing film. Selective, thoughtful, darkroom and cheaper. It may be a phase I’m going through or an evolution.”
Andrew B on Twitter

Evolution. Definitely. It’s been creeping up on me slowly and stealthily yet steadily too. As time goes by I’m being fussier about pressing the shutter release. Be it film or digital. Whereas a few years ago I would measure the success of a trip by the number of rolls of film in my to-be-developed bag, these days I’m more concerned about what images I’ve made and not how many frames I’ve exposed. It applies equally to digital and film which has surprised me. I recently spent a day out with a DSLR and on getting home found I had made just 40 images. In the past 400 digital files would have been a minimum but the 40 I made that day is spookily close to the number of images on a 36-exposure roll of 35mm film.

So, how will the latest price increases affect me? Well, I will probably make the final switch to fully digital for my colour photography. But not immediately as I’ve around fifteen rolls of medium format colour film in my cellar. This is simply a continuation of an ongoing trend as I’ve already mentioned and whilst it may hasten the transition it is by no means the primary factor influencing the change.

I will definitely buy less Kodak film. Ironic, as one of the reasons cited for the increases is so they can expand to meet demand. Whether the price increases will shrink demand sufficiently for them to meet it without further investment though is not something I’m going to attempt to speculate on! On a practical level I am very happy with my go-to Ilford films and the price increases mean I will now use less Kodak black and white film, specifically Tri-X and T-Max, both film stocks that I’ve recently only bought when there’s been a price promotion if I’m honest. Back in the day Kodak Tri-X was my go-to black and white film and price-wise it was on a par with my current day choice of Ilford HP5+. In addition to using less Kodak black and white I probably won’t get to try Portra 800, a film that’s been on my “one-day-I-will-try-it” list for a while now.

But, in the final analysis, my current trend of using less film each year is likely to continue and that in itself will shield me in a sense from price increases; I will spend the same in monetary terms but will purchase and therefore use less film for that budget. For that matter, I’ve enough film in my cellar to see me safely through 2023 without bothering my wallet if things became tight though.

So, in the short term I’m not getting anxious about price increases. Pragmatically, I will further adjust my behaviour if required although ironically it seems I’ve been slowly changing my behaviour already. Based on current usage my 2023 totals will again be lower than in the preceding year and talking to some of my online friends this is a trend many of them are reporting too.

Anyway. It’s not often I publish an opinion piece but I hope this has been of some interest. If nothing else it’s been a vehicle for sharing a few recent images, both film and digital, colour and black & white.

Sharing

‘tis the season for resolutions, for looking back and for generally taking stock of life. There was a time when I would have written a series of blog posts on these themes incorporating a commentary too on what I’d written about and how regularly I’d actually written during the previous 12 months. Well, spoiler alert, I’m not doing it this year so this isn’t that post. I have however been doing the thinking even if I’ve decided against writing it all down.

I’ve spent almost all of the Christmas period unwell, missing family gatherings, sleeping upstairs all day whilst children and grandchildren all descended on the house on Boxing Day, most disappointing of all though I’ve not been eating and drinking all the festive treats we got in for the holiday. As I write this, Christmas was four days away and there’s only a little over two days left of 2022 and I’m still coughing and spluttering, using at least half a dozen handkerchiefs a day and generally feeling crap. I therefore don’t particularly feel like reviewing the past year or contemplating the next. I just want to feel human again!

And I shall.

One thing that I did ponder on whilst laying in bed on Boxing Day was, as it happens, this blog of mine. I started it many years ago as a diary for my studies. Somewhere that I could record my research and related activities, ponder results and share them with my tutor and fellow students. I continued with the blog post studies, including a big “move” to a different blogging platform during which I lost 75% of my blog. Not a good time. I still dream of finding in a forgotten folder some of the essays that I’d worked so hard on and whose loss I still regret. But, as my studies came to a close, I continued to write in the blog.

Partly as a way of sharing my hobby … but mainly because I actually enjoy writing.

Why did I carry on though? Partly as a way of sharing my hobby with the handful of people I stayed in touch with but mainly because I actually enjoy writing. I enjoy crafting the flow and pace of a written piece. I also enjoy seeing where my thoughts will take me; unlike an essay for my studies I rarely start with a firm plan and the subject evolves as too does the main point I am going to make. Sometimes this resembles whatever induced me to put fingertip to screen in the first place but oft-times it’s a surprise to me and the first I know of it is when I proof read the copy.

The germ of an idea this time came from watching Alex Luyckx’s latest YouTube video. This led me to ponder resurrecting my nascent interest in making videos, or VLOGs as I termed them, a pursuit I put on the back burner when my formal studies ended. I then found that Alex had, somehow, left me with a thought revolving around the empty recesses of my skull … “write about what you know”. This in turn led me to think about what I do write about and why and thereby to this point of sitting at the dining table tapping furiously at a screen trying to get it all out of my head before the family need the table for tea.

One thing I have noticed is that my blog became more focused once I’d made the transition from digital to digital plus film and from there to being once again a mostly-film based photographer. Much of what I’ve written about has related to my experiences and experiments returning to film photography and also discovering new techniques or formats. Often these are things I couldn’t experience first time around due to lack of funds or time but often through simply not knowing about them. Hard to understand in this digital age I know and I suspect many take for granted the wealth of information available at the tap of a finger or the click of a mouse button.

It’s not a gear-centric blog, although I enjoy the gear, but is more focused on what I can achieve with the tools and materials. At times, usually when I’m restricted in my movements through ill-health, I write opinion-based content, but on the whole I like to share what I know, what I’m learning and what I’m trying out by way of new techniques. This is both as a means of making sense of it myself but also as a way of sharing.

So, that’s my point for today in what is probably, but not definitely, my last blog post of 2022. If you are a film photographer, whatever your level of experience and whatever your particular specialist subject is, please consider sharing your knowledge, your experience and your technical skills. Whilst film photography is enjoying a resurgence it’s still a fledgling and its long-term survival is not secured yet. For it to continue to thrive and continue to grow we all need to play our part.

It’s not just about supporting those companies that are undoubtedly doing their best to keep film alive, they have a strong vested interest, nor is it just about making the gear available but it’s about keeping the knowledge and skills alive, ensuring they are passed on through the generations. I don’t mean simply burying things in websites or online databases. Those artefacts can be found of course and have value – but only if they are found, only if future film photographers know the right questions to ask or keywords to enter in a search engine. Our mission, should we wish to accept it, is to actively spread the word, to share and not to hoard our knowledge so that newcomers to this world can see for themselves the wonders that await beyond the marketing stories, the slick packaging and the glossy offerings of hip influencers.

So, that’s what I will be doing in 2023. Or rather, that’s what I shall continue doing in 2023. Whether or not I branch out into a podcast or I resurrect my nascent and long-dormant YT channel (thanks for that ear-worm Alex!) I shall at least be continuing to write for my blog. Continuing to share via social media and continuing to do my small bit to keep the film flag flying.

I hope you do too.

Here’s to a healthy, happy and creative 2023 with as much sharing as we can all manage.

Pondering on influence

Does the camera you choose influence what and how you make photographs on the day?

I was pondering that this morning following my wife’s announcement that the bathroom, where I hang films to dry, was out of bounds. “You will have to shot digital for a few days” was her less than sympathetic postscript. Now I’ve nothing against digital, I’ve several digi-cams available, but as my reader probably knows by now, I habitually use film. Mind you, having used (exposed, developed, digitised and sleeved) seven rolls of film over the last two days I thought it probably wouldn’t hurt. My thoughts shifted to what camera I should take.

I took my phone.

I still need to make a photograph every day as my picture-a-day challenge continues but the phone will be well up to the job. Had I known about the bathroom ban last night, I’d have charged a battery or two and stowed a small digital camera in my bag in readiness for this morning. As it was, I had just five minutes to decide what camera to take. However, we make the best of situations.

Once outside I photographed heavy frost on the car, explored some frost covered leaves and patterns in ice. All things the phone handles well enough for my needs. Scraping the ice off the protective screen with a fingernail I photographed the outdoor thermometer (-5°) and headed off on my morning’s errands which in large part covered exactly the same ground that I covered yesterday.

It was whilst sat in my favourite café, jobs completed, that I realised I had been looking at the world around me differently to how I’d looked at it yesterday. I further realised that this change in perspective was actually quite normal for me. I am always looking or at least sub-consciously watching, for compositions and photo-opportunities but it dawned on me that what I watch for varies with the camera in my bag.

Yesterday, I had the Holga Pan and two rolls of film in my bag. My thoughts instantly turned to architectural multiple exposures, inspired totally by friend and fellow photographer Andrew Keedle. My phone was in my pocket but it was the Holga Pan that had my attention and I photographed accordingly.

Today with just a phone for company I was instinctively looking for images that suited the “camera” in my hand. Thinking back over the past week during which I’ve used five or six different cameras, I’ve adapted my vision each day to the cameras at hand. Adding the Holga Pan on a couple of days was a conscious decision as it’s on loan and I wanted to try the multiple exposure technique Andrew demonstrated. However, going back through my archive it is clear that what and how I photograph is very much influenced by whichever camera I happen to have with me.

The fact that I probably make more images in the streets surrounding my home than everywhere else combined means that I am very familiar with my surroundings. I still manage to find something different every time I venture out however and I think that this is in part down to the fact that I look at my surroundings with slightly different eyes each time I go out.

Sometimes I go out with an idea in mind and on those occasions I choose the camera for the job. Oft-times though the camera I take is chosen quickly and the choice also influenced by what cameras currently have film loaded (normally at least four cameras have film loaded).

After a full English and several mugs of hot, black tea it was clear that I needed to vacate my corner seat as the café was starting to get busier with lunchtime trade. I’d written most of this blog post whilst sat there in the warmth but it was time to venture back outside onto the frosty streets. I thought more about the topic as I walked home and the more I thought about it the more I realised that my day-to-day photography was influenced mostly by what photographic tool I put in my bag or pocket as I leave the house.

In passing I guess that another factor to consider is the experience levels of the individual. I’ve tried most genres of photography over almost fifty years and am comfortable with quite a few of them. I am also predisposed to trying new things and experimenting, something that has grown particularly in the last few years. My familiarity with my cameras also means I generally don’t need to think too much about the technical aspects which leaves the brain free to attend to creative matters.

So, in conclusion, what I chose to photograph is generally influenced by the camera(s) I have with me. Other factors, such as the light and if using film, what films I have with me, are also contributing influences. The main exception is when I go out with a specific project in mind in which case the camera is chosen accordingly.

Hhhhhmmmm, now then, does your mood influence the camera you choose?

All images created over the last five days

The connected world

I’ve been ruminating over the last few days on the benefits to me of social media. The turmoil at Twitter has led to a stampede for the exit from a large number of the #believeinfilm community, some seemingly completely ditching the platform. Whilst it seems to some of us that this is perhaps rather hasty the reality is that the community is the poorer for the exodus. Which is a real shame as in the couple of years I’ve been active within the community I’ve learnt so much from its members.

One of the great differences between when I first used film (early 1970s) and nowadays is the wide availability of information to inform decisions on film choice, developers etc. When I started it was the local camera club or camera shop who provided knowledge and expertise to newcomers to the hobby. If you had a club whose members were welcoming and open to encouraging newcomers then you learnt a lot in a very short time. Likewise an interested and informed retailer would make recommendations and pass on experiences from other customers etc.

We had no internet, no instant connections with film photographers around the world and therefore if the local community was not welcoming and encouraging then you were somewhat on your own. Such, sadly, was my experience in the 1970s. I can honestly say I’ve learnt more in the last few years through the worldwide online community than I did during my first decade of the hobby.

My lack of consistent guidance during those early years however didn’t deter me; indeed I was largely unaware of the paucity of my education. In the last few years though I’ve come to recognise this and through the online community have set about filling in the gaps in my knowledge. I knew a lot of the “hows” for example but not the “whys” nor the many alternatives. Folk like John Finch (Pictorial Planet) on YouTube have shared much information that I would have benefitted from knowing fifty years ago for example.

To my mind this type of online community is important if film photography is to survive longer term and not just as a passing trend. Whilst I believe I had a less-than perfect introduction to the hobby I’ve stuck at it for almost fifty years. But, not everyone would have done so and that’s why the existence of communities such as this are so important. Film photography is not simply a case of point, shoot and an app or AI does the rest. It’s both an art and a craft. Artistic vision is of course important whether you are a digital or analogue devotee but for the latter there is also the craft of processing your films that once learnt can be used to support your artistic vision. True, you could simply send the film to a lab and ask them to scan it too but to my mind that hands over part of the artistic process to chance.

To digress slightly. It important to be discerning when choosing your online sources however. One of my hobby-horses is the number of YouTube “influencer/experts” who use one roll of a new-to-them film, send it to a lab to dev & scan then pronounce on its veracity. Really? John M and I have discussed this privately many times, but long story short, I do wonder if these, no doubt well-intentioned, “experts” do more harm than good. Take Ilford HP5+ for example. Choice of film developer makes a big difference to the resultant negatives as does the speed at which the film is exposed as I’ve discussed here more than once. A single roll, developed by a lab cannot hope to do justice to any film. To provide useful guidance you need to put in the work and test various configurations. Alex Luyckz for example uses multiple rolls in a film test and develops in several different developers before publishing a review which clearly discusses the results from each combination. John Finch, mentioned above, produces detailed, well-researched videos from which his vast experience simply oozes.

So, the vast amount of online information does need to be used with discernment and discretion but the fact remains that there is a huge repository of knowledge to be tapped into. This is important as if we are not careful newcomers to the hobby will not appreciate the vast potential that film photography has for personal expression. There is a tendency to look for the shortcut in todays ever-connected world where “there’s an app for that”.

Social communities such as the #believeinfilm folk are an important part of promoting and developing film photography as a hobby to my mind. The old-style forum is slowly disappearing to be replaced by the likes of Twitter where informed discussion has been the order of the day over the last couple of years but that too is starting to wane in favour of the instant hit of dopamine from post, click, like, heart-emoji style social media. Sadly, the fragmentation of well-established and knowledgeable online communities won’t help in the long term to nurture this hobby that we all enjoy so much.

On being sociable

The flurry of posts here over the last few days didn’t go unnoticed in the land of the bird. “Are you becoming a Superblogger?” asked one, tongue firmly in cheek. Well, to give a serious answer to a not-so-serious question, no. Tried that, couldn’t keep up! Not just with coming up with something to say every day but finding time to write and post it. It was a bold experiment not least because I was working full time. But even noting that, I wouldn’t attempt it again even though I’m now retired.

This recent flurry, after a break of several weeks, does however serve to reaffirm that this blogger also has a life outside of social media. And outside of photography. My 365 continued, aided by the mobile phone and school run, but “serious” photography took a back seat due to unexpected and pressing family duties. It reminds me why I’m glad to be an amateur, without the demands of a professional practice. I could deal with real life without worrying about letting clients down.

For the record, I did briefly set up a portrait business soon after retirement. It was hard work albeit very enjoyable. However, the illness and death of my father, shortly followed by my uncle and then father-in-law meant that within six months I’d had to put the business on hold. When the time came to resume work I didn’t have the enthusiasm to start from scratch again, almost a year after pausing, that I took the pragmatic decision to return to strictly amateur photography – and the life of a full-time grandad!

One of, indeed probably the major, benefits of being resolutely amateur is not having to please anyone else. Not having to follow a brief, however vague, allows for full artistic freedom. I unashamedly make images for myself. Of course, if others enjoy an image then that is also fabulous; we all like to be appreciated and I’m not so self-centred that I don’t like applause from the sidelines. One thing that social media has done for me however is to introduce me to a group of people with similar outlooks, who appreciate the work that goes into an image and are always supportive even when work isn’t to their taste. I’m talking about the #believeinfilm community on Twitter of course.

I recently passed the 5-year marker on my picture-a-day (365) challenge. Belatedly I made reference to this milestone and amongst the responses was from Helen who commented on the mix of photographic methods I’ve employed over these five years:

“… mine was almost entirely digital – doing so many different types of photography along the way is just amazing.”
Helen H

It’s the type of support that we see daily from across the #believeinfilm community and means way more than any number of ticks, thumbs-up or heart emojis. Appreciated as these are its when people take time to engage that makes the time spent on social media worthwhile. And yes, any social media interaction worth having has to be worked at; you can’t simply post work then sit back and await the plaudits. The community works because people get involve, share ideas, provide feedback, encouragement and support. Like most things, the more you put in the more you get back.

“You are supporting my devious master plan of helping all photographers, across the world, enjoy their film cameras. I see you doing this too with your amazing blog!”
John F*

Another great thing about the community as I experience it is the diversity of experience and ways of working. From educators and authors through to complete newbies and every level in between, everyone within the community shares knowledge, ideas and even kit. I interact with photographers from around the globe and with such a diversity of photographic practices. Can you tell that I’m passionate about the #believeinfilm community?

So, I started by talking about the joys of being an amateur but this has ended up as an eulogy for the #believeinfilm community … I’ve even had to change the title of the post! If you are on Twitter please do come and say hello!

* The Art of Black & White Developing. John Finch

The Influence of Intent

Does intent influence photography? By which I mean that if I’m just out for a walk and happen to take a camera with me will my images be any different to those I’d have taken if I’d gone out intending to complete a dérive or make images for my portfolio? Or if I’m out and engaged in routine domestic activity will that change how I see the world through my camera? For that matter, does what photographic device I am carrying (phone, digital or film camera, pinhole etc) make any difference?

I’ve probably not explained that very well so let’s take this morning. It’s a weekday and on most weekdays I leave the house around 8.20am to walk one of my grandsons to school. There are basically two routes and he always chooses; it makes no odds to me as both take the same time.

Today it’s the front door route. Out of the house, turn right and walk to the end of the terrace and through the enclosed path behind the pub. Down a slight incline, turn right and walk in a straight line until the school gates are reached. A simple walk, it takes under ten minutes, twenty if you include the return.

On days like today I leave the house intending to return straight home after seeing Harry safely into the care of his teachers. I always have my phone and sometimes a camera as I often make an image during the walk back. I’ve been working on a picture-a-day project since October 2017 and these “insurance” images take the pressure off me if the day evolves in an unexpected way. So, whilst I have a camera the purpose of the walk is practical and mundane and definitely not something I’d class as a dérive. Or “serious” photography.

At this time of the year the sun is still working it’s way up above the terraced houses yet it still sneaks it’s way through the gaps, bouncing off windows and creating wonderful patterns and shapes. I can’t resist. Never.

This morning I made four images during the journey. Each uses the shadows created by the rising sun as it filters through gaps in the houses. None are what I’d call pictorial; I doubt if anyone thinks they are pretty and they are certainly not traditional picture postcard material. I’m probably the only person who will like them, especially once I’ve removed the colour.

They aren’t really documentary images either except in the sense that they are documenting something I saw. Rather they represent the way I responded to the urban landscape. These are the vignettes, small slices of the landscape, that caught my eye this morning on a walk I’ve probably made hundreds of times now.

As I’ve been writing and thinking this morning I’ve realised that, to answer my own question, whatever my reason for being out I still photograph with the same intent. What differs is the amount of time I can devote to the act of photographing the world around me. However, this is something that has evolved over time so in a way is a learnt behaviour. I do remember a time when I termed an outing as either a “serious” photographic expedition or a “snapshot” day. The former would inevitably be me alone with “proper” kit including a choice of lenses, two or three cameras and a bag containing filters etcetera. The latter? Any time when I was with a member of the family or when the trip was for a specific purpose other than photography.

So what changed? Well, I did I guess. I believe that subconsciously I must have gradually realised that any outing could form the basis for “serious” photography. Slowly the things that caught my eye when out with a camera started to merge into a more coherent form. Still an eclectic mixture but the “serious” and the snapshot have gradually merged and I just take photographs these days. Perhaps “serious” photography should be renamed as “my” photography?

Whilst not necessarily “pretty” my photography still exhibits fairly formal composition – part of my “*style*” perhaps?

Thinking about it, I have always made photographs that appealed to me. Yes, I went through a brief period of entering competitions and did so successfully. But I very quickly realised that in many ways I wasn’t being successful as a photographer but as someone who could identify an image that a camera club judge would deem worthy. I enjoyed the accolades at the time but it was a brief dopamine hit if truth be told especially as I realised that in a lot of cases I no longer liked my own photographs any more! I soon reverted to making work for myself. If anything I took a conscious step away from the typical camera club aesthetic and returned to film photography, embracing pinhole for the first time and in doing so found a photographic genre that really resonates with my view of the world.

I have habitually carried a camera at all times for the last fifteen or more years. Every time I leave the house I am full of intent. My intent is to capture images that resonate with my view of the world. Whether that’s through a day dedicated to the craft or something I fit around other activities is irrelevant to me. Be it a couple of quick images on my phone or several rolls of film. But it hasn’t always been like that and I’m sure the same is true for many people.

Turning briefly to the last question in my opening paragraph. What difference does the type of camera make? The only difference it makes these days for me is from a practical perspective. I routinely carry a wooden medium format pinhole camera in my bag and with exposures lasting into the minutes I am constrained in where I can place the camera in an urban environment by the need to stay out of peoples way. My panoramic swing-lens camera has a clockwork motor and is not a discrete tool; I was using it recently at an indoor exhibition (photography was allowed) and in the cavernous mill loft I was sure that people at the far end of the room could hear every exposure as it was made.

The Ian Beesley retrospective at Salt Mill

In truth I can only answer the question I originally posed through the lens of my own experience. For me the answer would be that it used to make a difference but not any more. I make images that appeal to me, that reflect how I interact with the world and how I interpret it. Increasingly, the images that I share are the most personal rather than sugar-coated picture postcards (think stunning sunsets or sunrises) and in many cases are the complete antithesis of the work currently in favour amongst many photography enthusiasts.

Finally, I spoke with someone yesterday that I’d not spoken to since before the pandemic. She and I had both been on the same college course a few years back and had stayed in touch. Writing on the college forum later she said: “Love the images you shared, very evocative and they are very much your style.” That made my day.

As for style that’s a topic for another day but perhaps the evolution of intent has been hand-in-glove with the evolution of my style?

I Want Rain

“What are you doing today? [subtext: I want you out from under my feet.]
“Depends. If it rains I’m going for a walk”
“I want rain!”
At Whenham Towers … 8am Saturday

It has been very dry of late. The urban landscape is dry. Parched grass, wilting flowers and dusty grey pavements. It needs rain. The plants and grass need rain. I need rain!

So I load the camera. Unsurprisingly it’s the Horizon S3 Pro, this time with a roll of Fomapan 400. The ONDU 6×6 pinhole is already loaded and sat patiently in my shoulder bag. But with what is it loaded?
The label has fallen off somewhere and apart from a guess of ISO 100 or 400 film I’ve no idea what is inside. No worries, I will expose at ISO 200 and push or pull as required when I develop.
Or should I expose at 400 thus giving a 50% chance of a normal development?

Decisions, decisions.

Fortunately, that decision can wait a while yet- SO, I wait.

Patiently(ish).

For the rain.

An hour later and I am still waiting. Patiently(ish). I check the weather app
on my phone. When I checked earlier in the day it had indicated that rain WAS due, around lunchtime, and that it would be heavy. How it reads “Mostly Cloudy”. It then teases with: “Rainy conditions due around 5pm”.

5pm! Even then it’s only a 50% chance of rain and sunny conditions are forecasted to return within an hour or so.

What does that mean for me now though? I want rain! The wife wants rain! Oh, and some daylight please. This is the UK. It ALWAYS rains here surely.

I settle back to wait patiently(ish).

It’s not easy though. I’ve spent three weeks either childminding or DIY-ing and I’m due a walk with a camera – in the rain!

Have I mentioned rain?

I sit. And wait.

Patiently(ish) .

Postscript: I’m still waiting

Polaroid Week 2022

This is Polaroid Week, an annual celebration of instant photography. I’ve had all sorts of instant cameras over the years but these days just a couple of Instax cameras adorn my shelf. However, there is a vibrant online community and I do enjoy seeing what is posted. From straightforward images of everyday life to fabulous fantasy creations the instant film community is thriving.

But instant photography can be very rewarding

One camera that I owned and used for a while is the Lomo’ Instant

I have however gone through occasional phases of using instant film as well as a fair number of different cameras and formats. I have blogged about it too of course on several occasions. My Perfectly Imperfect series springs to mind in this context too.

Priceless! Harry and the pepper plant he grew

So, whilst Instant photography isn’t something I do that often, it is priceless for capturing and sharing little moments. Harry is very proud of the pepper he grew from seed … this morning we took his picture with an Instax Wide and he’s proudly carried it to school to show his teachers. Priceless!

ps – the print behind mine is one he took himself

Double exposure: Instax Mini 90, Neo Classic.

So, to those of you celebrating Polaroid Week 2022, good luck, have fun and I’m with you in spirit!

The Big Orange — Finally, a link to the online ‘roid week album on Flickr

Cross Street – a work in progress

I photographed these disused, near-derelict houses in Cross Street a few weeks ago for my 365 Challenge and at the time decided to return when I got a chance with a medium format camera and a couple of rolls of black and white film. This short series of images puts Cross Street in context and finally focuses in on the small vignette that so attracted my attention on that first visit.

Looking at these again this morning before posting them to my blog I am thinking about printing them but also about producing a zine with a series of short urban vignettes such as this drawn from my local area. Before I do either of these though I need to reprocess them to produce a visually consistent set of images. I believe this will help tell a more coherent story.

Which, I guess, tells us a little about how we consume images these days. Increasingly, images are viewed individually as little bite-sized portions on social media. The photo-essay (and I’m not suggesting this post constitutes a photo-essay) is less often seen in an environment where individual images are the predominant form in which photography is viewed. That said, I actually took these with the intention of creating a short series that hopefully told a story but I then post-processed them as individual images over the course of an evening and morning. This was partly because I wanted to see how they had turned out and also partly because I wanted to post one to Flickr as that day’s image for my 365 Challenge. In other words, they were produced individually to feed social media in as timely a manner as possible. As such, the “final” series doesn’t fully reflect my aims when starting out so I shall consider this set as a marker along the way. A more visually coherent set is the next step, followed by a set of prints (I will print more than this selection and play with the sequencing on the table) and finally their inclusion in a zine as the “final” form.

So, having used this blog post to choose the final images and view them as a set, I will now transfer the RAW files onto the computer and re-process the final selection using a consistent and hopefully coherent treatment. I might even try a sepia feel to them too but that’s getting ahead of myself.

TECHNICAL NOTE: All of these were made with a Bronica SQ-A medium format film camera and I used two rolls of film, one my old faithful Ilford HP5+ which I rated at 250 ISO and processed in Perceptol and the other a new-to-me roll of Kodak TMax 100 which I developed in Rodinal (1+50). I “scanned” the negatives with a Fuji X-H1 and post-processing was done using the JPEGs on an iPad with the Snapseed app.

Edgelands

Outskirts of Halifax – site of a disused railway track

When I was studying a few years back a couple of concepts really caught my imagination. One was psychogeography which I wrote about HERE. The other was the “edgelands” which is the subject of todays post. The two are for me interconnected as my own exploration of the edgelands concept in the past, and indeed more recently, has been conducted in the manner of the flaneur we discussed briefly in that earlier post.

For the purposes of my studies back then, the discussion about these edgelands was linked primarily to the book EDGELANDS: Journeys into England’s True Wilderness by Paul Farley and Michael Symmons Roberts published in 2011. I have just reread the book prior to writing this post and found it as engaging as the first time I read it over five years ago.

Take two steps backwards and you’d fall off the edge

So, to a definition. Farley and Roberts acknowledge that the term “edgelands” is not theirs. It seems that geographer Marion Shoard got there first. She wrote about England’s edgelands and gave them their name. The edgelands too are perhaps not really meant to be seen, no one creates edgelands to attract people to the space. As Farley and Roberts note they are more likely to be seen as a blur from a car window than experienced for their own sake.

For me, when we talk about the edgelands, we are thinking about those places where one urban space meets another or where town meets country. Typically they are untidy, neglected areas where neither town nor country have the ascendancy. And they shift too. Periodically, new development will sweep away the neglected periphery replacing it with something shiny and new. Yet there will always be edges, they don’t get rubbed out but are simply relocated.

If you know those places where overspill housing estates break into scrubland, wasteland; if you know these underdeveloped, unwatched territories, you know that they have ‘edge’.
Farley & Roberts

Take my home town of Elland. The edges of the town clearly show the effect of the decline in industry, particularly the textiles and allied trades, that has caused Elland to become run down over the decades since textiles ceased to be King in this part of the country. Surprisingly, behind some of these crumbling and dilapidated walls business does go on, albeit in far less skilled trades and far less grand surroundings. But there’s no escaping that the periphery of town is in many ways no-man’s land. Unloved and neglected but still very much there. From time to time a piece of land is repurposed, perhaps a few new houses, but that simply relocates the edge; there is never a neat transition twixt the town and country.

The edgelands then represent a complex landscape, a debatable zone to quote Farley & Roberts. As the economic and social situation changes so too can the fate of these edges. High demand for new housing and the opportunity for a good profit for example can make that derelict plot on the edge of town more attractive to house builders than when the original factory that had been slowly decaying was demolished years before, the land left to its own devices and slowly being reclaimed by nature.

Revisit an edgelands site you haven’t seen for six months, and likely as not there will be a Victorian factory knocked down, a business park newly built, a section of waste ground cleared and landscaped, a pre-war warehouse abandoned and open to the elements. Such are the constantly shifting sands of edgelands that any writing about these landscapes is a snapshot.
Farley and Roberts

Photography too can only reveal a snapshot of the edges. A moment in time which few will remember and fewer still care for. As photographers it feels almost incumbent upon us to capture, to celebrate and to remember these fleeting edges.

But there’s the rub.

As photographers we tend to try to make our images as appealing as possible on the whole, especially those of us with a leaning towards the pictorial. Let’s face it unless the images are part of a documentary-style story who wants to see the crummy face of town? However, whilst I am at heart a pictorial photographer I have nevertheless always been drawn to the less-glamourous face of the towns and places I live and work in. I’ve even been known to seek out the grimier side of town when on holiday or visiting somewhere new. It seems I have a natural tendency to gravitate towards the edge.

As I perambulated around the edges of Elland a few weeks back I was musing on how run-down the town is and not for the first time started to wonder how I’d photograph it to attract visitors, say for a tourist information website. But, how much more interesting to document it as it really is. The plain, unvarnished truth rather than the glossy, beautified fiction of a tourist guide. In truth, I have lots of both types of these images already, particularly the less picturesque but these days I’m drawn to the edges even more. The pandemic is of course partly responsible for a change in behaviour as movement was restricted. I have probably walked more of the edgelands of Elland in the last eighteen months than in the previous eighteen years.

One thing that I’ve noticed more recently is that even the cobbled lanes running along the backs of terraced houses seem to constitute an edge. The periphery of a back yard where it abuts the unadopted lane, no one willing to “own” upkeep of either and so the edges creep like tendrils into the town. As an urban photographer there is a seemingly never ending supply of subjects for my lens. That I tend to photograph the edges using a more pictorial rather than documentary style is perhaps how I put my own stamp on edgelands images.

Are you drawn to the edges? Do you lend a pictorial eye to these less-loved spaces? I’d love to know your thoughts on the subject!