Following John Piper's lead in Snowdonia

I've spent a bit of time in the hills recently. A trip to Snowdonia a couple of weeks ago and the Western edge of the Brecon Beacons this weekend. Below is a shot from the Snowdonia trip, a view down the Ogwen Valley.

The artist John Piper painted many scenes in Snowdonia and I had in mind his paintings whilst wandering around up there as the palette at this time of year is typical of his work. He ended up spending time there after initially being sent on an uncompleted commission to draw the interior of Manod Mawr quarry where artworks from the National Gallery were stored during the Blitz. He fell in love with the area and rented a house in the Ogwen valley during the winter months.

More info on John Piper

The light was fairly flat for me this time but Piper understood the importance of immersing yourself in the landscape and here’s two fantastic quotes for anyone trying to understand how time to fully absorb the nature of a scene is essential to interpreting it...

Each rock laying in the grass had a positive personality: for the first time I saw bones and the structure and the lie of the mountains, living with them and climbing them as I was, lying on them in the sun and getting soaked with rain in their cloud cover and enclosed in their improbable, private rock-world in fog

The rocks can look grey in a leaden light, and then do not, commonly. Against mountain grass or scree, against peaty patches near tarns, on convex slopes, in dark cwms, the same kind of rock can look utterly different, and changes equally violently in colour according to the light and time of year. The rocks are often mirrors for the sky, sometimes antagonistic to the sky’s colour.”

I’ll be returning to spend more time in Snowdonia to follow Piper’s lead and hopefully get better light and more drama.

Blue Planet II

As I'm sure everyone knows; the BBC natural history programmes are very special pieces of television and Blue Planet consistently delivers incredible footage. Very often we are witness to animals and behaviours that are stranger than fiction and this series hasn't disappointed. Scenes like this one below are brilliant examples of how nature, given millions of years to evolve, can create such breathtakingly beautiful creatures with abilities and environmental adaptations that are truly fantastical. My only wish is that these scenes inspire and persuade those people with influence to do all that is possible to protect these ecosytems which have developed to be perhaps the most amazing examples of life in our or any other galaxy. To allow a species or ecosystem to become extinct is to turn the clock back to zero and squander many lifetimes of evolutionary development. The plants and creatures on this planet are truly it's most precious jewels and losing them is a colossal tragedy.

A trip to Iceland and thoughts on solitude in landscape photography

I've not long returned from a short trip to Iceland. We only had 6 days start to finish and with the limited daylight time on a trip towards the arctic regions in Winter it meant we were crossing our fingers for good conditions and also for clear night skies coupled with some geomagnetic activity to give us a chance of seeing the aurora... not too much to ask surely! We got lucky: although we had conditions ranging from blue skies and sunshine to a raging Atlantic storm, we had good windows of weather and crucially some of these windows came at night. Also, we were blessed with some intense aurora activity coinciding with the periods of clear skies. A miracle!

Given our limited time on the island we made our way to the Snæfellsnes peninsula as we'd read that it was a great way to see plenty of the features of the island in a relatively small area. Lava fields, fishing villages, rugged coast and mountains are all packed into this small finger of land on the West of the island. We stayed at Grundarfjörður and arrived after a sunny drive but the following day brought brutal winds which meant sightseeing was abandoned in the afternoon after the wind had made us question how strong a gust was needed to flip our vehicle off the road. The following day brought more settled weather and that evening we ventured out to have a look to see if there was any aurora action.

We headed for a view of Kirkjufell, the iconic hill that rises out of the sea just west of the town and which can be nicely framed with a waterfall in the foreground. We weren't disappointed and the first time I’ve seen the lights properly aside from some horizon-anchored smudges in the skies of Pembrokeshire was a special experience. It’s a strange event that people will often describe in bombastic terms but it’s really a very serene phenomenon. Aside from the noise of the tumbling waterfall the lights appear silently as what appeared to be some wispy light cloud against the night sky but soon developed into a cord of light that crossed the sky and slowly undulated and swayed around the heavens. We had a good chance to gaze skyward and enjoy the moment whilst also taking some photos as the lights remained for a while until gradually fading away.

In the next couple of days we explored the area around the Golden Circle of attractions. Geysars, huge waterfalls and volcanic terrain all make for a fascinating landscape but were mostly viewed quickly after a scamper from the car in full waterproofs!

On our last night in Iceland we ventured out on the West coast of the Reykjanes peninsula where the intensity of the aurora really was awe inspiring. The increased level of geomagnetic activity meant there was really powerful curtains of light across the sky and at times, directly overhead a corona where green gave way to red and yellow shades that seemed to be falling from the sky. This time the soundtrack was the pounding waves upon the rocky shore and the sweep of the beam from the nearby lighthouse added to the atmosphere.

I have a funny relationship with some of these shots as one or two feel tainted in several ways. Anyone who follows landscape photography accounts online will probably know Kirkjufell, the most photographed mountain on Iceland. It’s easily accessible and a popular spot with photography groups so I’ve seen the view countless times. On the night we went there, further up the path a workshop leader was barking instructions at his students who were all gathered in the same place to get the same shot. I’m not exaggerating when I say he was like a drill sergeant so I shuffled past in disbelief, into the darkness and found a quiet spot further down the falls. He was the complete antithesis to why I enjoy this kind of photography. For me, solitude is important when engaging in landscape photography. It gives a chance to fully immerse yourself in your surroundings and although I'm trying to capture a particular moment, there is also an appreciation of the changing scene in front of me. I also find it sad that people wish to only collect their version of a shot they have seen countless times before. It feels to me like social media has reduced the planet to only these iconic sights. Like Bruce Lee said... “it’s like a finger pointing a way to the moon, don’t concentrate on the finger or you miss all the heavenly glory”. But at the same time; the spot was on our doorstep, it was an amazing night and maybe this is the most incredible shot I’ve ever taken so I have to try and accept the positives!

Anyway, here are a selection of shots from the trip...

Take a View Landscape Photographer of the Year 2017 - Commended Image

You might have seen my earlier post saying I had been shortlisted in the Take a View Landscape Photographer of the Year. Well I'm pleased to say my image was Commended and I have been included in this years book which is out today. All the images from this year will be on display in London's Waterloo station from the 20th November until February 4th.

It's a picture that took a while to get. Most of my shots require a number of visits to a place to get the image I am looking for. This one is no exception; I took shots through Winter when the barley was just sprouting all the way through to Autumn when it had been harvested and the field was just stubble. In each one the light was different. I knew at the time I took it that it was a good one but I'm really pleased that the judges liked it too and that it's made it into this years collection.

If you'd like a print they will soon be available via my shop page (when I've built it!)

TakeAView.jpg

An unlikely starting point

Occasionally people will ask where I started with photography. Assuming I took a course or some other structured path I "umm" and "errr" and end up settling on telling them I was self taught; it's true although of course I have been inspired by others along the way and had some tips here and there. The reason I hesitate is that it's hard to define a slow accumulation of skills (and kit) as years have gone by. When I think back to beginnings I have to give some credit to a humble device which played a big role in inspiring me to go further. The little red box pictured here is, on reflection, an important starting point in my adventures in photography. It wasn't my first camera and it certainly wasn't anything rare or special but it was a device that got me thinking and stimulated me creatively.

The memory is vague but I think I purchased it for around 20 pence at a car boot sale a good many years ago. Attracted by the promise of a Wide Pic using the Panoramic Lens (woo!) I put a film in it and got to shooting. With no batteries required or any means of focusing there isn't much to go wrong. On the back is a reminder to put the film in for processing labelled 'panoramic' to ensure it is processed correctly. The technology behind the magic is that it simply crops the top and bottom of the frame on 35mm film so the negatives appear as a strip of exposure in the middle of the cell. The lens is probably only around 24mm but the crop contributes to give the image that wide feel. What I got back from the chemist after putting them in for processing is a pretty poor quality 10"x4" print but I fell in love with the format and the washed out look of the prints.

I used this camera for a long while before I bought my first digital camera and always enjoyed the creative challenge although I never thought of it as that at the time. Composition is limited by the format and so it becomes an exercise to make a picture work within those restrictions. Photographers and other artists often talk about how getting back to basics; using equipment that reduces your options, is a good way to stimulate creativity and I realise now that using this little box was a good foundation for me in understanding composition and working with placing a subject within the frame. I often still crop at the same ratio and even now have greetings cards printed in this format so I guess the love has stayed with me.

A bit of googling and it turns out these cameras are available on ebay and in charity shops everywhere and even have quite a fan base! The dreamy nature of the prints is appealing to fans of the Lomo aesthetic. They were originally given away free to subscribers to the Readers Digest magazine. Get hold of one and run a film through if you like or, to recreate the shooting experience with your digital camera? You don't have to go as far as blocking off the top and bottom of the lens for the 'panoramic' effect but using a fixed focal length (prime) lens with nothing else in your bag is always a good place to start a creative journey.

Exciting news!

One of my images has been selected for the Take a View Landscape Photographer of the Year award in the Classic View class. Send good vibes to the judges to make the right decision! Results will be announced in the Autumn.