Life

George

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Portraits of George who turned 100 a few weeks back. As the local doctor in St Davids for many years he is something of a local legend. It was a real privilege to be asked to take some portraits to add to his memoir that his granddaughter wrote some years ago. His age has diminished his hearing and vision somewhat but he still manages to get out on his tricycle and enjoys reading the news. George has given a lifetime of service to the RNLI; the Western Telegraph gave a good summary of his lifes work in their piece on the occasion of his 100th birthday.

He served as honorary medical advisor (HMA) at St Davids RNLI for many years and launched with the boat a number of times for medical rescues.He became the HMA in 1956 and was also a member of the RNLI’s national medical committee for many years, researching medical incidents, finding and testing medical equipment and designing the medical training for lifeboat crews throughout the RNLI.

Dr Middleton was also one of the founders of Porthmawr surf lifesaving club at Whitesands over 60 years ago which is as vibrant now as was all those years ago and has a close affiliation with the RNLI lifeguards.

He also regularly accompanied the RAF rescue helicopters from Brawdy on missions off the coasts of both Wales and Ireland. Dr Middleton has been awarded the RNLI’s Silver and Gold service badges and is a life Governor of the RNLI.

Dr Middleton was also awarded an MBE in recognition of his services with the RNLI and other organisations.

From the Western Telegraph

Flicking through his memoir it’s interesting to read about life as the doctor in a small coastal location in the 1950’s. George loved to spend time at the beach but it was a radio blackspot so if he was needed in town, a local household with radio reception would hang a towel out of the window to alert him. When Search and Rescue helicopters were based at the local airbase, he would find himself onboard and taken out to all kinds of emergencies including trips out to the offshore lighthouses when they were still manned by a small crew.

I reflected that over the course of his lifetime, George can say that he has seen it all, and while tensions in Ukraine rumble on to an unknown conclusion, George reads about it in his daily newspaper and maybe it feels like a petty squabble when seen through the wideangle view of 100 years.

Bikepacking

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Throwback to Summer 2020 and a product shoot for a prototype frame bag for Ben’s bikepacking adventure to Portugal and a few portraits in the evening light in St Davids. Looking forward to the warmth returning for some summer bicycling.

Tim Williams - Sculptor

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I went to see Tim Williams in his workshop before Christmas. Tim is a Pembrokeshire artist with a playful approach to his sculptural work. Using metal in a variety of ways he creates pieces on a scale from tiny figurines to large multi-element installations incorporating old machinery that lend motion to the work. His carpentry skills are also used to make one of his latest evolving pieces; a black chapel which awaits the gathering of a congregation of saplings when the work is complete. Tim is the son of a Pembrokeshire sheep farmer and his work is informed by the people, animals and cultural landscape that have shaped his world since his youth. Noticeable in his approach is the improvised nature of his techniques, like the farmer finds what works for him in the yard when something needs fixing or fashioning, Tim plays with materials and industrial tools to get results that realise his vision. The resulting style is organic and echoes the people, animals and the rural and coastal landscape that surrounds him. Tim exhibits some of his pieces in Oriel y Clawdd which you should keep an eye out for if you find yourself deep in the back roads of North Pembrokeshire.

Harbour Flashing

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I’ve always been slightly terrified of using flash. For me the split second of light has been impossible to predict with any certainty and the fear of missing a moment, ruining an image and also the attention it brings upon me as the photographer has made me shiver. The flash has seemed to me to be annoying to the subject and intrusive to most scenes and so I’ve always preferred to shoot things in natural light as what I see through the viewfinder is what the picture ends up looking like, barring any technical errors (camera shake, wrong settings etc). One of the messages I got from reading books on flash photography is that there are rules with using flash and these need to be understood in order to avoid eternal shame! This was one of the big reasons I felt intimidated. However, lately I’ve started to come around to realising (I know I’m late/stupid) how useful the flash is in making shots that wouldn’t be possible using only natural light, the additional creative element of bringing light to a scene and the potential to make images inspired by those I admire from others. It’s time to dive in.

I’ve used flash in my (makeshift) studio settings and enjoyed the process as it feels like a science experiment to adjust variables, move the light source and subject to suit and create images in a semi-controlled fashion. But outside of that controlled setting the fear sets in. Bouncing flash off ceilings or walls has seemed particularly hard to predict.

This year, I am making attempts to master the flash, at least as much as will be useful to me in creating the images I want to. The shots below are an early experiment in this process. I took a walk around the docks at Milford Haven with the flash firmly ‘on-camera’ and blasted it at vignettes that my eye sought out. On-camera flash is to be avoided according to much of the literature but it’s useful as a technique to give a particular look and feel. I think it worked well here with some creative editing to make a set of evocative images that stand apart from typical interpretations of dockside life.

The flashgun will be coming with me on more shoots and I think I’m going to enjoy its company.

Winter waves at Whitesands

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Some winter surf action down at Whitesands from a few days ago. A nice sunset and some decent waves coming through meant for a bit of fun with the long lens.

River Swimming

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One of the many hot days of summer this year and a trip to landlocked Wiltshire. A search for a suitable place to slip into the Avon led to a path through the undergrowth, a clamber down the muddy bank and a cooling swim amongst lilies and demoiselles in the afternoon heat. River swimming always feels a little different to the coastal waters of home; nettles and brambles threaten the route to ingress, lowering ourselves from the top of the steep bank is rewarded with a squelching of mud between the toes and a course is navigated, arms held aloft, through roots and reeds to the point at which one can tentatively push off from the bank into the slow flow of the river. What lies beneath in these waters is unfamiliar and there’s the stirring of memories from childhood; warnings of pike and their needle sharp teeth mingle with tales of the riverbank from cultures and rivers both local and from the pages of stories told. Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn, The Wind in the Willows and all those folk songs about the Mississippi or the Findhorn. The Wye, the Tay and the Spey, those evocative names for the arteries that carry the characteristics of their banks out to the sea beyond. The water feels different too; somehow it’s smoother and the abrasive sting of salt is replaced by the earthy smell of water that has percolated through the fields and woodlands that border the river. The source of the Avon is in Gloucestershire and hasn’t travelled far by the time it reaches Bradford on Avon. It’s journey will then take it winding through Wiltshire, the cities of Bath and Bristol and its industrial hinterlands before it eventually spills into the Severn Estuary at Avonmouth, a different river to the one that was born in the Gloucestershire countryside.