By no means has it been an easy year, or a year where I’ve got everything I want.

This year has been more about making things happen in the face of not being able to get quite what I want, and learning slowly about what my goals actually are.

Above: my favourites of my images from 2011 whittled down to 9 – click to view larger (or to see them uncropped and whole, you can go to my newly designed website).

I’ve shot a large volume of work compared to other years (including over 30 models, thanks to the events), gained experience in new situations, engineered a new kind of exciting event, co-hosted a workshop production in a dream location, released a book and written my second, but most importantly, I have gained a clearer sense of direction than ever regarding where I want to go.

This year I’ve been working in two main series: Ecology and Surreal Fashion. Between them, I can cover most of what I currently want to express. They are quite different: Ecology uses stark nudes and landscapes, dystopian moods and ambiguous, environmentally-linked messages. It’s where my self-portraiture work has led to, though it’s not all self-portraiture. Surreal Fashion is my first substantial series featuring other (fashion) models, that has grown around an aesthetic that combines photos with other media, with more of an attempt at a conceptual core than most typical ‘fashion’ photography.

On the events side

This year I’ve done some teaching-based workshops in London, Scotland – and LA, right at the start of the year. I’ve also co-hosted a workshop for Phase One (further below). But what has epitomised this year has been our new event, what ‘we’ (that is, myself and Matthew my husband-to-be) have come to entitle the Fashion Shoot Experience.

It was a conception of two desires: 1) to transcend the typical ‘workshop’ and the limitations and contradictions it poses, as to what a photog/aspiring photog can truly take away other than some force-fed techniques and an illusion that the ‘art’ in photography can at all be ‘taught’. Maybe that is because I’m overall valuing being an ‘artist’ more than just a ‘photographer’. And 2) I wanted to put together a fashion shoot, instead of waiting around for a commission, but to make it happen myself. But the sentiment is not just “the only way to learn is to do it”, but “images get made whilst you are ‘learning’ – whilst you just do it“. Both myself, and all the participating photographers (who are everyone from students to seasoned pros) are on a ‘learning’, ‘doing’, and just ‘being’ experience together, making greater use of a great location that the typical workshop could.

The positive feedback from other photographers on the events has really made me proud of the event we have put out there. I really feel like I been able to facilitate a meaningful and fruitful experience for other people. And its growth is marked by going stateside: in 2012, one year after its launch in London, we’re taking it to New York.

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Books

Feels to me like it was ages ago, but it was only this year my book Self-Portrait Photography came out in the UK in Feb (Ilex) and in the US in March (Pixiq), which has sold 24,000 copies worldwide to date and is going into second print run. I’ve also been writing my second book this year, which comes out in the spring, Creative Portrait Photography. Writing these books is one of the best, if not the best, work I’ve enjoyed so far in my photography. There’s an inevitable commercialisation and level of compromise involved in the final product, but I love the freedom I get in putting them together, and I value the growth I gain in every book I write.

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Shooting at Weston Park

The PODAS Phase One workshop has got to be one of the best things for me about 2011 (see blog post with video). Getting to sleep over and shoot a workshop and eat great food – and even play dress up before the models arrived – in the most wonderful stately home, and be paid for it – wow – I was very lucky. There, I made what I think is my favourite image of the year overall, Storm Door (below).

And the important ‘OTHER’

This has also been a strong year for self-development. Particularly in the last couple of months, I have really solidified my sense of self and direction in life. Prioritising healthy eating and fitness above absolutely everything else, including photography. I’ve drastically addressed stress: the importance of getting headspace from perpetual computer use and the constant ‘I could be doing more’ mentality. I am so happy to be doing what I do for a living, but now I realise, for one reason much bigger than any other: the fact that I can organise my life around the priority of health, in body and spirit, which includes regular exercise, rest and rebuilding a connection with nature, in antagonism to much of the modern lifestyle that befalls most of us. Moreover, my intended direction(s) with my art have been in mental tumult over the last few months, finally landing on the one thing I want to do with my art: to question, and to seek truth.

Where 2011 has brought me

It was only a short while ago that this end-of-year post would have said something along the lines of: in 2012 I want to break into commercial work, grow my name, expand, in essence just get bigger, better, richer, greater, work and whip myself harder than ever, blah & etcetera. I’m questioning everything about that outlook. I still crave ways to use my work in other (commercial) avenues, but the right ones. This year, I have already felt this change coming, manifested in my Ecology series which has been somewhat a test run for me, for how matters of environmental concern meet ‘art for art’s sake’. I wrote a blog post about it earlier in the year where I professed to the series’ softcore quality and that “it’s not the place of my art here to tell people how to make the world a better place.” However, although I still crave subtlety, I now want to invoke deeper thinking, to actively engage my audience. I do want to make the world a better place, because it is possible.

I realise more about who I am as an ‘artist’. I’ve battled with feelings of dissatisfaction about my direction, feeling that a lack of commercial work meant I am less of a photographer. Maybe in a way, but not less of an artist. I now see what my work is: it is my dog by my heel, whom I want to stay true to me, close to my side. I see that my dream is to always be able to be myself, to channel every profound thing I feel, but not just for me. In that respect, as I grow in knowledge and awareness all the time (as well as passion and altruism) the art does too! I want to turn up the volume button, by increasing my work’s power and also its channels of expression; by using words, and by sharing more than just pictures that compel one to simply look and enjoy. There are too many issues around us to ignore, and too many layers to those problems than is typically regarded by the mainstream media. The kind of ‘issues’ I am referring to will become clearer later.

It is quite astounding to consider the potential power of a photographer who chooses to value truth over money, message over self-lording. What if my pictures can help expose truth, shift attitudes in one person and then another, and bit by bit make a difference to this world? That notion is just too exciting. I’m starting to even wonder, what is the point of art if it does not make a statement, to try make a difference? I want my art to have other purposes beyond our typical notions of ’success’, and I realise I’m going against some people’s advice when I say that. I’m interested in how this new perspective will change things. I know for a fact it will make me happier.

Above: Heatstroke (my favourite from Ecology this year)

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Some inspirations this year…

Here’s some references of things I’ve noted inspiration from in 2011: this picture ‘Mr Vet’ by Milosz Wozaczynski, pictures like this by Susannah Benjamin, and pictures like this by Chiara Fersini, and even illustrational Biblical stuff like this off Google Images, and weird animal hair pieces of Nagi Noda… also in a more general way by the following, in a random order: Tim Walker, Federico Erra, Rutger ten Broeke, Yulia Gorodinski, Martin Parr, Gregory Crewdson, Guy Bourdin, Noah Kalina, and Peter Kemp – as well as the other 4 contributors of my new book.

I also highly recommend this inspirational book Art & Fear, which has really helped me this year.

Cheers to a stimulating, enlightening 2012!

I was excited to watch the DVD, as I had seen the trailer. From the marketing it looked delicious and so tempting, I can only imagine the fervour of both young and seasoned ‘togs sticking this on their Xmas wishlists. I looked forward to watching a few hours’ worth of photography-related entertainment. After all, there aren’t many programmes on TV about photography, or at least beyond a simplistic layperson level!

I didn’t want to review it just from my point of view, but thought of questions that the potential buyer would want to ask: can it teach a beginner photographer anything? Can it teach an advanced photographer anything? Is it marketed correctly? Is it worth the money? ($250/$200 launch price).

I was aware most of my enjoyment came from seeing Joey and Lara behind the scenes. Being fairly familiar with their work, it was largely a pleasure of recognition and curiosity about their physical presence as photographers. The DVD is divided into parts, showing Lara and Joey each on a shoot as part of the four ‘challenges’, each with screen capture films showing them at work in RAW workflow and Photoshop.

The photography in this DVD is stunning. I am bored by 90% of photography out there but I was captivated by both Lara and Joey’s images throughout. Of course, you only have to go online to see their images, so it’s the content of the explanational material that is the object to review here.

The first shooting film, showing Joey shooting a rock star on a studio roof, is very comprehensive. Joey is careful to go into detail about every stage he went through (lenses, lighting, filters, techniques, forethought, contingencies… right through to how the lighting affected the clothing of the subject, and even where he bought the ‘cheap ass’ light fixture from). I really feel like I am in a direct conversation with him, having my questions answered. In the editing films, I like how both Lara and Joey show the other shots from a session beside the selected one – the rejected/sidelined shots – i.e. how they get to the ‘before’  and not just the typical ‘before and after’. This is something important that many other workshops/tutorials neglect! In some of the shoots though, there are gaps in the full information about everything that went into the shoot, a bit like seeing a dish being made, but not getting the full recipe. It’s still enjoyable to view.

I like that Lara speaks about other aspects as well as the photography itself; her input on styling for example, in choosing a model.  She is showing that there is more to photography than the f-stop, what you might consider the more ‘feminine’ pulse of photography. And I truly believe that the photography workshop industry lacks that in abundance, so to see a photographer like Lara in action makes me happy. But, this is a workshop DVD and it needs strong workshop material, so I would have liked Lara to address a few more technical topics to give a more complete picture.

To get something clear however, as a photographer myself, I am often not bothered about technical information and I am not saying that the crux of a photograph is the gear and settings used. It’s just that the DVD purports to tell you everything about the process, so I went into watching it believing that I would be shown everything. And with every photo that comes onscreen is a overview of its camera settings, so we are being told that they are integral to understanding the image. Some of the settings however are not explained, such as a mystifyingly high ISO and shutter speed on one of Lara’s images from the Shoot a Stranger challenge. During another of her shoots, she uses a constant/HMI light stating she wants a cool look, but has to obtain this later in Lightroom by changing the white balance drastically, going against her statement that non-destructive editing is important. So I wondered why she had not changed her white balance accordingly in the shooting. It really doesn’t matter – every photographer has quirks, makes mistakes, can fix things later – it is of little consequence! But it would be helpful if these things were mentioned, to avoid confusing the DVD viewer who wants to think and learn.

Lara refers to digital noise from a high ISO as flattering film camera ‘grain’, and that she wants ‘a nostalgic film feel across her images’ (in the way I understood this then, across all her work.) I was surprised to hear that, as noise really isn’t the same as grain, and I see Lara’s work as the opposite anyway: modern, professionally digital, unnoisy and clean-edged images, and there isn’t any visible noise in most her portfolio. I believe that in fact she only uses high ISO for some select shoots, not all, so it’s an example of a topic I did not feel fully enlightened on. Contrary to the description of the DVD, I felt there was a subtle, maybe even oblivious, insulating membrane in parts that prevents the viewer from truly getting the nuts and bolts of everything that goes into the photographers’ process. I don’t necessarily mean that they purposefully hold back tangible ’secrets’; just that they sometimes talk performatively rather than straight from the heart.

I liked the diversity in production value of the shoots: from the Pacific Ocean, to a street in India, to a deadly road in Bolivia, to a London studio. I think for a DVD marketing itself as a fashion/commercial workshop, it would be good to see a more ‘conventional’ fashion shoot somewhere in the series of films: something that shows shooting with a standard key, back and fill light. That is what I would have liked to learn more about. Because the shoots were all a bit quirky in their technique, it was a bit like having the icing without the cake… but a bit better – like a whole cake made out of icing. Perhaps, though, it is a covertly good thing that there are no ‘norms’ in this video, after all, photography is a bag of surprises, random encounters, thinking on your feet, and finding inspiration in unusual places.

For one of Joey’s shoots, he says to the camera that he has decided to shoot in an apartment because NYC studios are too expensive (admittedly ‘shooting last minute’ specifically for the DVD). Whilst the shoot worked just fine in the apartment, and is a great example to other photographers on practical ways to save money, part of me was curious that surely his shoot deserved the cost of studio hire for a DVD that will be sold. But then, he does say he seldom hires studios. Also, when Lara turns up to her London studio for the birthday-themed shoot to find just a ring flash and a HMI light, I wondered upon the somewhat strange situation that as a professional photographer (on a DVD teaching others how to be professional photographers), that she had not checked the studio’s lighting beforehand, or brought her own gear.  However, these are young photographers: fresh, rebellious and with work ten times more interesting than a lot of older, more experienced photographers that do things by-the-book. It is of personal opinion to each viewer as to whether that qualifies them to make and sell a workshop DVD.

I couldn’t help feeling that many illustrative shots could have been edited down (such as Joey’s translator shown speaking Spanish for 20 seconds, or wide views of set-ups shown for longer than we need), as well as the time devoted to Lara’s long anecdotes and also Joey’s non-photography-related jesting in front of the camera, which struck me as a little self-indulgent; it may be enjoyable, but my mind kept going back to the person who pays $200 or $250 to watch what seems more like a documentary than a workshop. I found myself saying ‘ok now let’s see some photography’, or ‘nice, so show me what the shots look like!’ a few times.

I enjoyed Joey’s India shoot; the set-up was described well, and I enjoyed the ambience of the footage (glad no music was put over those shots), I almost felt like I was there. I also liked seeing Lara approach strangers to shoot in the streets of New York, that part made me feel as if I was watching an objective TV programme where the photographer was making a real effort to step outside their comfort zone.

A difference I noticed between Joey and Lara’s footage was the quality of camera work. Lara’s was all shot with a manual focus (most likely a 5DMkII), which meant that the shots kept going blurry and was quite distracting. The editing also left in a lot of unnecessarily long shots on Lara in action, like cutaways trying to become real meat. We see her close-up at work, directing the model but we don’t see their reaction, so we can’t make narrative sense of what’s going on, and the footage becomes merely decorative, to say ‘this is a fashion photographer, and this is the model’.

This all made me reflect on the disadvantages of watching a film not edited by an objective eye, and not ‘professional’ in the strictest sense, but I also reminded myself that today we see so much more than TV would typically sanction, and this DVD is an example of photographers autonomously creating something that would not have had the means to do only a decade ago.

Probably my main critical observation was lack of discussion of inspirations. Photographers don’t exist in a vacuum. Work doesn’t birth itself on another planet free from all external influence. All artists’ work is a collective flow of ideas: like water running its rivulets into the work of each single artist in existence; the water can’t collect in a self-contained pool and say ‘this is it, this is where it begins’. To gain more of a credible glance at their processes, I wanted to hear about what influences went into the outcome of each of Lara and Joey’s shoots, and what inspires them generally. The complete absence of this conflicted with their expectation that their own work on the DVD will inspire others.

So, in answer to my questions:

Can it teach a beginner photographer anything? –Yes, although some beginners might find themselves out of their depth if they expect explanation of the extreme basics: it’s story-led, with a cocktail of all kinds of interesting things coming together at once.

Can it teach an advanced photographer anything? – Though I felt more excited to watch Lara’s videos, I feel I got more directly useful bits of info from Joey. But good photographers’ work can seldom be translated into easy-to-digest nuggets on technique to be swallowed up by the viewer. Whilst Joey can tell us about ND filters and his homemade modifiers, Lara just takes really great pictures, with simple uncomplicated methods: well-composed, well-styled and very well selected in the edit process. There’s nothing much to ‘report on’ about her process, except for her excellent eye. And you can’t teach someone ‘the eye’ as much as you can’t teach a blind person to see. The truthful paradox is: the more experimental, ‘unique’ and interesting any photographer’s work is, the less it can be ‘taught’ to people at all.

It is marketed correctly? –Probably not quite, more documentary style for the LJ and JL fans, demonstrating their own idiosyncrasies. But using the semantics of ‘workshop’ and ‘learning’ in the packaging obviously sells better. A couple of hardcore technical bits (such as channelling the energy spent on the comical boxing ring animation, into dynamic lighting or composition breakdowns instead) may have weighted it more into the marketing’s favour, and so too a technique-based structure rather than a story-based structure (though I enjoy the latter more). I love the artistic DVD cover, the inventive concept of rivalry, and the colourful array of shooting situations – so much more interesting than bog-standard stuff of typical tradeshow ilk.

Is it worth the money? –Depends if, based on the above, you learn from it or not. It may not be as useful to someone who does not know LJ and JL’s work beforehand. It may be expensive for a DVD, but let’s not forget that physical workshops are invariably more expensive than this, and can have less effort or energy put into them.

Yesterday on twitter I felt the urge to tweet my reaction to seeing the latest Littlewoods TV advert. Kids on stage, instead of performing the Nativity play, sing a popstrel ode to capitalism, naming an array of branded gadgets, the audience full of proud smiling parents. The voiceover talks of interest free credit, like some tasteless sofa advert. I instantly searched it on YouTube so I could have another watch, seethe within my woolly trousers and even feel my eyes swell in sadness for our crap material society that places £ signs in the pupils of sprogs barely out of the uterus.

Then I saw the John Lewis advert, which tells the story of the boy who impatiently waits for Christmas, doing a variety of cute things to try make time go faster, so that when Christmas morning arrives he can finally present his crudely-wrapped present to his parents. As the story unfolded with delicate nostalgic charm, I knew 30 seconds in that I would be tweeting a follow-up to my last comment with ‘this one’s better’.

Advertising is an area that I am, as a photographer, trying hard to enter. I take a great interest in advertisements, even just to hate the ones I find tasteless and figure out what makes them tasteless. With this spontaneous advert comparison I made, I wanted to probe at exactly why I like one so much more than the other. They’re both major high street outlets, advertising themselves at a prime commercial time of year, using kids as their commodity, employing a pull on parents’ heartstrings and purse-strings. But whilst one epitomises exactly why advertising can feel so morally uncomfortable, one demonstrates exactly the kind of job I would love and be proud of.

Both adverts want to sell, but the John Lewis advert chooses a less brash way to do so. On face value it’s all a bit obvious: a less than groundbreaking story, mellow enjoyable soundtrack; there is snow, there is cuteness, all is well. But the orchestration of fine detail in the narrative condensed into 60 seconds is what makes this piece of advertising positively filmic (though it did cost a reputed £5m to make.)

The Littlewoods ad is full of many children, a mass of children, it is precisely the ‘mass market’, kids and families with no identities, personalised instead by products: MacBooks, D&G watches, HTC. The high value of these designer and luxury goods, that these young children eulogise over, seems so inappropriate. A whimsical £1700 laptop for Grandad seems so wasted especially if Mum had to borrow the money to buy it!

The John Lewis ad, however, does not place the products centre-stage. The products become peripheral and nameless gifts, anonymous wrapped packages visible fleetingly at the end. The ad has a significant advantage in that it has a narrative, it tells a story, that time-old way to captivate the viewer who wants to know what happens. We never even find out what is in the packages, because the focus is purely on the characters: the boy, along with wonderful details of the family (my personal favourite parts of this advert are where his wide-eyed baby sister stares wide-eyed and almost with melancholy at her older brother’s antics).

Whilst the John Lewis advert inclines towards the ghost of Christmas past, the Littlewoods advert pushes the evil spirit of Christmas future, a technocratic Christmas governed by high value goods that these kids expect on a plate – or a credit card. It is intertextual with the mod cons of current mainstream telly: the X Factor-esque rap scene, the vibe of High School Musical, and the fad of vacuous self-celebration, the culture of ‘all I want in this world is to be rich and famous.’ Emphasis is on the value of the presents, not on relationships. ‘My mother’s wicked!’ may just have a double meaning.

You’re more likely to be humming the song from the Littlewoods advert afterwards, and being eye and ear-catching is certainly a goal of advertisers. But the John Lewis ad has not even any spoken words, relying solely on its visual story. It has a markedly traditional look as if we’ve gone back about a decade; its use of slight desaturation, thick snow, woolly hats, and the appeal of a family’s peaceful and lonesome lead-up to Christmas, as if they’re the only family in the world (a reason why I personally like it more than the cacophonous creche in the Littlewoods advert that screams ‘one born every minute’). Also I noticed how the children are shown in contexts with adults, eating at the table, painting, going off to bed without a word. It sells idealism, of kids in their place, seen and not heard. It sells the Christmas spirit of giving, not receiving (even if that’s somewhat hackneyed).

The kids in the Littlewoods advert may appear to be singing about giving, but as the voiceover says, it’s about getting them ‘the things they really want this Christmas’. All they truly paint is an image of a generic parent (not sure why it’s the mother who’s got the job of buying the whole family presents) who has finally got time to sit down after draining the bank balance on the war-torn edge of pester-power.

What I think is that the John Lewis ad takes on an anti-modern tactic, whereby it reminds parents of their own memories of Christmas as a child. The Littlewoods ad is aimed at children, like a man in the street with a lollipop trying to entice a child while keeping one eye on the child’s parent, knowing he needs the child to go and grab the reluctant parent’s purse. The John Lewis ad, however, is aimed directly at the parents, directly at the ones holding the purse. They will recognise the Smiths cover and enjoy the idealistic representation of the family, maybe even be reminded of why they wanted children in the first place. For that reasons it’s what I think will make it more successful as an advert campaign (not just the fact that is cost a bomb to make, but the Littlewoods one doesn’t exactly look low-budget either). It puts story, emotion and tradition first, and sells more than gear, and I think that’s much more important for a brand in the long term.

Also, check out this behind the scenes of making the John Lewis ad:

Above: Burnt up, with model Sam Jey.

So, a few weeks ago I posted a long-winded blog entry about how I was embarking on an ‘intense period of creativity’ with a Phase One 645DF and P40+ back, along with lenses and a whole wad of ideas. Nearly at the end of this period with the medium-format system, I’m going to be doing a few things in response to my experiences. I confidently set out wanting to do loads of stuff whilst I have it in my possession, I’ve managed to do most of it. I wanted to shoot 5 self-portrait shoots and 3 shoots with other models. I’ve managed to do 3 significant shoots with myself as model, only one with another model, but I shot a combined total of 10 models at the 2 Production Shoot Experiences. And the big python I shot with can count as a 13th subject! We managed a few interesting locations including Dungeness although we ended up mostly using the 5D there, plus an abandoned laboratory, where as well as self-portraits, I shot a fashion shoot with another model. I also shot at my workshop at the Royal Hippodrome with the camera.

I went into this experience already vaguely aware of the pros and cons of medium format, echoed by articles like this one on PopPhoto. I knew that there would be a substantial quality superiority but paying the price in weight, of course (hypothetically) cost too, compatibility with certain lenses and other accessories, and also speed, even if that’s just down to the weight. The advantages were all down to superiority of quality, but I wanted to know what had to be sacrificed to get it, and how well it fits into my own techniques.

I’m making 3 videos which each highlight a major advantage of shooting with this kit: pin-sharp lens quality, resolution, and superior dynamic range. It is all 3 of those factors, really, that go toward producing what has been described as a ‘3D quality’ to its images.

Above: Double bind. Our first shoot with the camera went magnificently. Shooting in bright sunlight with TritonFlashes, the Phase One made a super job of immortalising me nude with a 9-foot python. The finished images had a depth to them that was even evident at small size. I’ll be talking about resolution and zooming into tiny details in my second video.

The LCD screen was probably our main issue with the P40+, and it’s already been noted by many for its inferior quality compared to that of DSLRs. I found it hard at first to judge whether an image was properly exposed by looking at the back of the camera, and they can look misleadingly noisy. Learning to rely more on reading the histogram representation is one solution! The LCD screen on the new IQ backs is a whole lot better, with a touch-screen capability and so much brighter that apparently a loupe/magnifier isn’t necessary for any situation. Although the interface on the P40+ is fairly easy to use, it takes a bit of getting used to (I’m used to that wheel and those zoom buttons on my 5D) and so I’d like to try out an IQ back.

Next, we shot at sunset at Dungeness, where we didn’t even want to use the Phase One. Time was crucial, we had minutes left before the red sun disappeared behind the crumbly huts, and maybe because at that stage we were not hugely familiar with the equipment to be able to set it up and trust everything was as we wished it (focus, exposure etc). The LCD screen’s low quality knocked my confidence in being able to use the camera and quickly check shots, so we went with my 5D MkII instead. Shooting with the Phase One at the workshop at the Royal Hippodrome in Eastbourne, I had issues with the exposure being too dark, resultant noise in trying to lighten in Raw, and also discovering the focus was not sharp. I started to question whether I was using the camera correctly. I made sure I had it on a sturdy tripod and paid more attention to focusing. It was a bit of a blip for me because the discrepancy between the shots on camera screen and on the computer screen was more significant than all the other occasions on which I shot with the camera. I started to think that the Phase One was much more accustomed to shooting in strong, controlled lighting conditions – the snake shoot for example.

Tethered shooting is something that seems to go hand in hand with medium format, and the photographers that would conventionally shoot with a camera like this would be stationed in a studio hooked up to Capture One. I have never shot tethered and it was my intention to try it out on this challenge. I have not yet tried it simply because of the unsuitable predicaments I’ve been shooting in, outdoor, roaming around large spaces indoors… and the notion of being on the end of a cord to a computer, the thing I’ll be spending days on afterwards anyway, is still somewhat unappealing to me. However, the advantages would be palpable too… ensuring I definitely won’t be disappointed with image quality afterwards, and also, when shooting myself as the model, it would make collaborative work with Matthew a whole lot easier! No more running up (half dressed) to chimp at the camera.

We shot Half-life (above) in the abandoned lab, and this was formed from 3 exposures in Photomatix. With all that detail already in the file, and then doing HDR, you’d certainly expect a lot of detail – which there was in abundance (I’ll be showing some close-ups in the video.) This is a great thing for fine art images that I’d like to blow up huge for exhibition, an aspect covered in my videos.

I shot a host of models at our two Shoot Experiences in London. This was the best opportunity to use the camera, as I had a variety of lighting situations at hand, 10 different models in total from both events, and lots of interesting visuals in terms of props and colour. As opposed to shooting self-portraits or collaborations as above, I enjoyed having full control of shooting another subject.

I realised quickly (or already knew)  that the Phase One certainly has a lot of quality to offer – and, it’s easy to use. But I’ve still got to make sure I take care to use it properly. I can’t just wave it around like a point or shoot, or even in the way I might wave around my 5D. On the Shoot Experiences I used both my cameras, and there were various pictures from not just the Phase One camera but my DSLR also, that were either not pin sharp, or downright blurred, owing to camera shake. I didn’t use a tripod most of the day which made the low-key lit scenes the fuzziest in particular. Taking that into account for my next MC Motors shoot that followed in May, I used a tripod more, which improved shots on the whole, but I realised after discussion with fellow photographers that my low aperture choices can also be an issue – especially for a camera with a larger sensor, attached to a long lens. However, in my first Phase One video, I show how one of my handheld portraits still gave pin-sharp quality.

Downsides to using this dream-camera? Battery life isn’t great – the monster eats up power, and also, of course as you’d expect, the files take more space, longer to process and might not be compatible with certain software you use to look through your images – thankfully though the IIQ files have become compatible with Photoshop and Adobe Bridge since CS5. Waiting for the huge files to show up as previews in order to judge each one can take a little more time, but not that much. My impatience to get that first glimpse of new shots for the first time on the computer makes it seem longer! Although I like using Capture One to batch-process a string of shots from my fashion shoots, I like to only take a handful of images into the program, to make life simple for myself, so I like to sort through them first in CS5 Bridge.

I found that the camera’s performance and quality only really becomes apparent when you put yourself into a great shooting situation – a spectacular one, with good lighting and something beautiful or striking. But that goes without saying – that’s photography itself. When you first get a new camera out of the box and swing it round to take a banal picture of your bookshelf or cat, the impatience to really see its real capabilities is palpable. This kind of camera takes that to an even higher level, where something like a yellow snake and the hottest day of the year are the five-star ingredients necessary to make this kind of kit shine. No-one thinks this camera is any good for all-conditions candid reportage, and it’s not generally the weapon of choice for sports, street or concert photography. It has its place, and generally demands more of a plan. Otherwise the difference from using a DSLR might be insignificant. For me personally, my photography is becoming more ‘planned’ at least logistically, since my earlier days of spontaneous student snapping when the sheer size of the 645DF would have been a completely unnecessary pain (I’d die for its resolution on some of my early images which galleries still ask for though!). I would also invest in several more hard drives and a better computer to maintain an efficient workflow. This gear is like a fine steak – it needs cooking properly and presenting with the right accompaniments, and then you will taste the difference. When you use a camera like this – everything needs to upgrade, including your imagination.

I’ll add the links here as I make the videos.

1/3: detail for fashion portraits (shooting models at MC Motors)

2/3: resolution for fine art (shooting nudes with a python)

I am occasionally sent emails from students or young people seeking a career in photography, who ask my advice on how to pursue this path and whether to go to university or not.

For a while now, I have wanted to write a blog post so I could give a cogent and useful response to those people and anyone else who is in the same boat. So here I go.

First, we must note that this is a complex topic. Whilst my opinions are strong, I want to give valid back-up to my argument, and I really don’t want to negate university in general. I am focused in this blog post on discussing arts/humanities degrees – so not just photography, but generally for those people who have a view to advancing onto a creative career. Photography is just one direction in which a creative person can go, so we all end up with the same quandaries upon leaving school/college. Also, I’m well aware that the photography world is a very vast one, with many different types and ilks of jobs. I’ve tried to address both the technical and creative sides of the spectrum, both left and right sides of every ‘photographer’s brain’ as it were, so my words can probably resonate for a range of photography directions. And of course, this post is based on my opinion, my own experiences of British university life, and impressions I’ve gleaned from others.

Let’s also get something straight before I continue – when I refer to my own experience of university, I refer to my 3-year degree in BA English & Media. I did not study photography. However, it’s the kind of degree one might study if they had a broad outlook to any kind of creative/linguistic job.

The first thing to realise is that nothing in life is in black and white. No one can really tell you whether university will be useful or not for you, first because everyone’s personalities differ, degrees differ, institutions differ, and nothing is guaranteed from, really, anything. Anything you do, be it a degree, work experience, a spurt of travel, etc, is only a tool to be used by you. Nothing really gives you anything – you can only take something from it. However, I have a couple of problems specifically, straight off the bat, with university.

The first is the classic ‘what can you learn in a classroom that is as good as learning on the job?’

The second is ‘university life is so slack that there isn’t even a classroom in which to “learn”‘.

So, starting with my first point.

‘What can you learn in a classroom that is as good as learning on the job?’

Something like photography is so apt for this provoking question. Successful photography is a blend of both conceptual and technical prowess. It’s about thinking about what you’re doing, as well as knowing how to do it: that is, creativity, as well as execution. I’m ’self-taught’, but I’ve become increasingly aware of the importance of referencing one’s own work, and the healthiness of trying to place one’s own practice (and indeed, calling it a ‘practice’!) into a historical context, rather than blundering naively an assumption that everything you’re ever going to do is wonderfully unique and ‘you’. However, I just don’t think you need university to tell/show you this.

Reading magazines, journals, books, researching the history of art, is all wonderful – but you don’t need to spent £20k+ and 3 years to focus solitarily on that. I find the work of ‘higher education’ is spread out so thinly over a wide scale of time that you might realise that everything you read or learned at university could fit into your bedtime reading over the duration of 2 more useful years doing photography in the ‘real world’. Study is good. But go find a library, do your own research and reading of your own accord. Independent study is what you’ll be doing at uni anyway, you just won’t have to pay thousands to do it!

When it comes to practical skills, it is flabbergasting to see how little photography degrees teach. Some are stuck stubbornly in the darkroom age, barely updating or even diversifying their department’s equipment, and most focus far too much on theory. Theory alone does not prepare you for a career in photography. I don’t think doing some token work experience or occasionally assisting a photographer is enough either – but it certainly should be the minimum. What is important is getting one’s head into the real world as soon as possible, thinking proactively as soon as possible, especially for something like photography, which is a multifarious industry and ever-changing landscape.

It’s a bit like when you’re learning to drive. When you learn to drive you spend oodles of money, and you’ll be desperate to pass your test to put an end to the pain of handing over £20 an hour to your smug instructor. But the cost of learning equates to the continued cost you’ll spend on insurance, tax and petrol when you drive a car for real.

In the same way, learning photography should be close to the real functionality of being a photographer. If you’re already studying photography, I believe you should get as much work experience as possible, attend workshops, do your own shoots, assist photographers, start your own business in small ways as much as you can. If you’re contemplating whether to start a degree or not, I truly think your money is better spent on short snappy, practical courses, with direct hands-on action guided by real working pros.

Now onto my second point. It wouldn’t be as bad if you knew that going to university would be a place to work you to the bone, both in theory and practice. But even that’s not guaranteed!

‘University life is so slack that there isn’t even a classroom in which to “learn”‘.

When I reflect on it, I realise how disappointed I was with university. When I was a child, I regarded university with awe as the esteemed pinnacle of education which would surely work one’s brain to the max. My experience was not like that at all, at least, for an humanities/arts degree. After arriving from a mentally-brisk experience at sixth form college, I soon grew to realise that intense work wasn’t the order of the day for most people once I got to the real ‘university’ beyond the pages of the glossy prospectus. University assumes no-one needs discipline, and they shouldn’t, we’re all adults now – but sadly it seems like they do. There was an all-too palpable lack of enthusiasm from a generation that cares more for discussing ‘last night’. Students on different courses of my programme varied in social class and intellect level but that didn’t discriminate when it came to drink – everyone ‘gets pissed’, either talking about in past or future tense. I despised, and still despise, how becoming regularly inebriated has become a normalised, unquestioned rite of passage for university students and for young people in general. I much preferred college (there, the beginnings of teenage binge-drinking was drowned out by the somewhat heavier schedules) and I even felt more ‘worked’ at primary school. To me, it’s bizarre that this is the time that the student forks out their weight in cash in tuition fees, which threat to augment all the more (for me, with my parent being under the primary income threshold I did not have to pay any of these). Then the long summer break came round the corner – ah ghastly! 3-4 months slap bang in the middle of the year to fanny about fancy-free? I didn’t get it. I didn’t like it.

Let’s explore the good things about going to university. For me, university was good for three things: (1) becoming independent – many will agree it is a wonderful chance to become self-sufficient. Circumstantially it eased me into flying the nest. Having a degree, any degree, is said to prove on paper that you know how to discipline yourself for a long period. The rest of my article obviously does object to the latter, and although you can gain independence through the experience, university is not the only way to do this. (2) It gave me time to think and explore. When I was applying for university degrees back at college, I did not know exactly what I wanted to do. My photography career was an unborn child. It emerged later, after my gap year experience and in the middle of my English degree. And (3), through writing those essays (not as many as I should have had to write, over the course of 36 months) with a spot of human guidance but most of which I could probably have done over an internet connection 2000 miles away, I developed what I consider to be good skills in organising an argument, thinking about more than one side to a story, and backing oneself up with cited evidence – skills to be used in both written and spoken word. Sometimes I feel I can spot people who have been to university, because they don’t come crashing down onto a conclusion 2 mins into a debate, and they can cite the odd literary reference. As well as use words like ‘juxtaposition’ of course. This reason is less critical because I don’t deem these as skills I was ‘taught’ at university (you ‘learn’ diddly squat) but ones I honed, myself, whilst being at university. College was the place that hammered me into an essay-writing groove.

Reason (2) is really the only reason that I would posit as to why studying is a good option, as opposed to going headlong throwing one’s life into the mouth of time and not having time to think about what you actually want to do. Everyone needs time to think about what they want to do, it is vital, and to that length, study is important. I’ve seen people rashly rush into jobs (like my friend giving up her GCSEs to work shifts at Kwik Save) but I think university stretches out study to the proportions of procrastination, to unnecessary lengths, ie. you don’t need 3 years to ‘think’ about what you want to do. Unlike other disciplines, a degree in an arts/humanities subject is never/rarely officially required for a job anyway, so reading poems, novels and academic books is more meaningless and irrelevant to the real world – which may well be a quite boring ‘real world’, but it’s a world we’ve all got to find employment in afterwards. After graduating I failed to get three admin jobs with my First in English and Media and long list of extra-curricular arty farty pursuits because I didn’t have enough dreary ‘office experience’! Even though I’d spent 3 years tapping away on a computer, researching, managing files and ferreting around for books and pens, it didn’t even get me a pen-pushing £12k salary job which would barely cover Brighton rent.

So what are the solutions?

I think university poorly implements ample aid for those people who want to go into something creative but are not sure exactly what (ie. me, and thousands others). What would be perfect is a kind of intense apprenticeship programme which gives students short bursts of hands-on experience trying out a host of different jobs, sampling a variety of potential creative careers so you can actually decide what you want to do initially. Interspersed with some short sessions poring over the words of Sartre and Bourdieu.

As most photographers are self-employed, and largely oversee their work projects themselves, the first lesson that must be learned is that becoming a ‘photographer’, and hence becoming self-employed, is about entering the unknown: erratic income, a continued level of uncertainty. This ties into my point earlier about university offering very little of the ‘real world’. Being sheltered by the false security of a student loan and various grants, some supplemented by parents’ money perhaps (though I know many go on to live the rest of their lives blindly buttressed by parents’ dosh) is a dubious lifestyle that should come with a great return. University doesn’t deliver that great return in my opinion. Student dinners and manky halls aside, it is misleadingly comfortable.

‘Getting into the real world’ is much about shedding the innocence of being a young carefree person, and taking the brutal weight of the world onto your shoulders. I’m aware I’m essentially advocating for one to take on that weight sooner rather than later. Part of me feels that is wrong, but another part of me thinks that 16/17 year-olds nowadays are not children, and have a wisdom and drive beyond their years. They don’t need to, and shouldn’t be, ‘protected’ from the realities of a world that can be humdrum, difficult and cruel – it’s better, as in the crux of any ‘education’, for a young person to become accustomed to reality – the bad, but also the good; how hard work can pay off, and in photography’s case, how one’s passion for image-making can relate satisfactorily to that same ‘real world’.

One of the most important lessons I’ve learned in life is that you make it happen. You make your own work, and in turn, your own life path. This became emphasised especially upon organising our recent Shoot Experiences together with my partner Matthew. They started off as an extension of the workshop idea – ie. people paying to come along to ‘my event’ -  but it quickly dawned on us that this wasn’t like a workshop so much – it was an environment we are creating, in which we as the hosts are making images ourselves, employing our passion for photography in a context in which other people can also collectively participate. We made a business idea as well as a creative one.

At the moment I’m seeking a photographers’ agent. It feels like trying to enter a crowded noisy party with people ten feet taller than me. Instead of loitering around waiting to be handed a golden ticket I’m making my own work, commissioning myself almost, in recent shoots such as one I did with a snake – spending money (feasibly) on my own mini productions simply because I love what I do and I’m confident to stake on it. If you want to do something, set the date and make it happen yourself. Photography is much a waiting game but you don’t have to sit down to wait.

So, all in all, what is my straightforward advice to young people?

If you’re curious about photography, but not certain it’s what you want to whole-heartedly pursue, then you might like to study something quite broad so you can keep your options open (like I did). But look at the content of any degree or course you are interested in, and makes sure it’s practically relevant to you. I would probably have gone for something of the length of 1 or 2 years; 3 years feels like too much time. Look for an apprenticeship, a vocational course, something hands-on.

If you’re more confident that you know you want to be a photographer (hard to know when you’re 16 or so, but possible, and career deviation over time is perfectly normal unless you’re torn between that and studying medicine to become a doctor!) then I’d recommend investing in practical courses, getting work experience, assisting photographers, maybe doing a 1 year vocational course just to give you time and something to hinge your everyday life upon meanwhile. I don’t think it matters what type of degree/course it is – types, credits, points, etc – for a creative career like photography, you don’t need a degree on paper anyway. I reckon that it’s skills, confidence, even some contacts & portfolio – what you take away informally – that is the most important. None of the links I have gained with companies, galleries and influential people have been made with what I had ‘on paper’, but from self-made exposure, personal introductions from contacts I made through that, and the continued process of experience.

Everyone needs time to nurture their interests and figure out what they want to do. I just think that most university degrees don’t provide the right tools.

Feedback, objections, questions, testimonies to the opposite of everything I claim about the university culture and youth of today, all welcome…

Images used above:

The artists’ sketch (collab with Rossina Bossio)

Memoirs of a student of literature

Futility

(View on flickr)

I find myself again citing Guy Bourdin as an inspiration for my recent work. It’s funny to recall how much of a longstanding inspiration his work has been for me, as I can recall referencing his work back in ‘06 for pics of mine such as The deaths. I feel that now I can comprehend his work better (even though he never intended his work to be ‘art’ beyond the perishable medium of a fashion magazine). I must have seen only a fraction of his lifetime of work, but what I have seen represents, for me, an intersection of different approaches – the surreal & composited (obviously manipulated) through to the more natural and effortless (not obviously manipulated) which have both equally inspired me.

Above: another image recently inspired by Bourdin, Corolla (view on flickr)

I had a bit of a revelation reading & looking at a Bourdin book the other night and thinking about my own direction. I feel like I know where I want to go with my own work, both inkeeping with whatever style I may have fashioned so far, and also how to take it further and diversify it (it’s liberating to feel that way, because it’s like being cosy at home and also opening one’s eyes to the world at the same time).

I feel braver that I do not want a ‘personal/commercial’ divide in my work, and I want to be bolder – be it with colour, subject, tone, or all of those. I want to approach commercial work with the same mindset as my personal work. It may only be a lucky few who make a living from doing that, but I’m happy to devote myself to reach for it.

I am also feeling confident about the way I work. Through the years I’ve wondered at my own methods and felt as if they maybe need correcting, regarding my spontaneity as probably just a necessary facet of self-portraiture (my book Self-Portrait Photography professes to the haphazard nature of the genre and how all its 8 contributors have embraced it as part of their methods). I’ve realised I don’t envision images exactly as they turn out – and that is fine. The place I’m shooting in, the props I use, the colours of outfits – I’ve become maybe more proficient at gathering specific ingredients but I watch them bake into an often surprising shape that somehow felt it was right all along. I find that the important thing is to do, using those props and things that throw you towards the concepts you want to express, to set oneself a somewhat loose brief.

I believe that artists work on more levels than the obvious consciousness. Our art can tell us more than our simple conscious mind comprehends at the outset.

With this picture, Retreaded above (continuing as part of my new work), I prepared the trip to the pile of tyres (by asking permission from the yard owners beforehand), and I also thought for hours overnight about what I would do in the shot and that I wanted to wear red. I still didn’t have a rigid plan though. On the day having forgotten my tripod mount, I had to have Matthew hold the camera where I wanted. Both shooting and processing developed organically, in a way I have always enjoyed.

Above: Free range.

For over a year now, I have wanted to incorporate environmental issues/topics into my work. I did not know how to do so without feeling like I was forcing some unwanted didactic quality into my images, not wanting my work to turn into some kind of advertising campaign. Instead, I have waited until it felt right, until it felt instinctive.

I spent a month this year with artist Brooke Shaden whose approach to photography is quite methodical, often involving pre-conceived plans and sketches, determining an outcome down to the pose intended to be used. Not being used to this, I had to make sure I had more of a plan than I am used to having, which would be the case in going out with any other artist, but especially one of Brooke’s nature.

Below is an image using Brooke herself, where I purposely brought along a basket of foliage (bought the day before from a local Salvation Army shop) to go with the environment. Unlike Brooke who lives in the area, as a foreigner I was excited by the environmental set-up of the scene: the sci-fi quality of plants engulfing and seeping from a huge manmade structure (an apartment block) and the strange Crewdson-esque vibe that would be created by standing a person amongst it, letting the interaction between man/manmade and nature speak for itself. After editing this final image from my selection, it took me about two weeks before I was convinced that the lack of special effects, levitation, multiplicity etc, wasn’t a deficiency but a departure that worked.

I wanted the title to merely whisper a suggestion of meaning: the human angle of the character sleepwalking, or the more ecological idea of nature awaiting a day to engulf and break free, but placid enough to maybe be neither, or a symbolic intertwining of both.

Above: Unrest.

So, I thought upon my environmental inspiration, the outlook and insight that has developed in my head from despairing every time I enter a supermarket and buy another chemically-bagged salad or huge plastic box with a small meat chop rattling about inside; from the political documentaries watched by my boyfriend in the evenings on the implications of such issues as frighteningly imminent oil and water depletion; from the barren landscape and mood evoked by films like The Road and Solent Green, and basically everything I think when looking round… a series of vignettes in my head would include fast food wrappers stuck in trees; a man in a shop buying a crate of bottled water already wrapped in thick plastic – squeezing it into a plastic bag then squeezing another plastic bag around the other end; Drive-Thru Pharmacies (that was in America); oil-slicked birds in the news, and birds that end up like a living Christmas cracker (see Midway by Chris Jordan).

Below are Gyre falls (left) and Fall again (right).

I started to incorporate unlikely props and materials into my images, centred around waste, plastic, household objects and banal functional items like traffic cones. In musing over ideas, I have also done some sketches, but found that I prefer to write down words, at least at first. Basically I have experienced a desire to inject a little bit more preparation into my normal spontaneous approach, but still letting the ingredients come together organically whilst shooting (especially if I’m shooting myself, and hence can’t see and frame myself like I can with another model). The selection of the final picture(s) from the shoot, and of course what I do to them in Photoshop, will be another part of the conceptual journey.

Rather than submitting to some singular message that suggests how we should live, I have sloped into instead suggesting the futility of doing anything. That may sound depressing and negative, but it’s not the place of my art here to tell people how to make the world a better place. This series is about brooding, about inwardly reflecting, taking as much righteous ‘message’ from the image as you wish, in the manner of a private religion. The contrapuntally-placed fashion models amongst flies and pig heads in the fashion images of Guy Bourdin have inspired me to believe I don’t have to eradicate the sensual or ‘beautiful’ quality from my images, but place it in a context that is weird or surreal, which together with the title can be topical, but esoterically so (depending on the viewer). In the same way, I don’t have to feel tedious using myself as a model, even as nude and provocative, despite it harking back to my past, more whimsical self-portraits in a way that might be irrelevant. The whole point is that I wanted to provoke a questioning, a feeling of unease, a picture that can still be enjoyed and not necessarily dictate a lesson in ecology.

Above images: Taking stock.

With model Christopher John Hills V in Self-destruct below, the litter already in the wooded location (the bottle) merged with a prop I’d brought along myself (the FedEx box) as well as the smoke bomb and cigarette (and crucially, a lighter – luckily Christopher had one).

Above: Silent siren (model Katie Johnson).

Regarding my series and the softcore ‘intent’ that I am describing here, so far it is been nice to have my followers so far (on Flickr) ‘get’ it, but there is not a definitive ‘it’ intended for everyone to get. I have noted to myself that this is the first time I have ever embarked consciously on a ’series’, but an important aspect is in welcoming ambiguity. The titles I add to the images are a helpful way of both directing the viewer towards the potential meaning, but also remaining aloof, often with something mystical sounding or something that could be a pun.

Maybe for sake of that ambiguity, I shouldn’t be writing this, or you shouldn’t be reading this. Maybe the point is that there shouldn’t be words. On that note I will end this post here and simply continue with my series and maybe another time soon, I will be compelled to share further thoughts.

2010 has been a great year, but then again it is interesting to look at every year’s progression since I started photography in 2006.

As time moves on and I generally widen my resources (ie. looking beyond Flickr), it becomes clearer to me that ‘photography’ is not monolithic and the word cannot can’t be discussed generally. Any one of photography’s purposes depend on the context of viewing, and of the viewer’s disposition, taste and expectations.

Being a ‘fine-art’ photographer, I have not been confined to a single commercial focus (ie. things can get dangerously aimless) so I have quietly admired a variety of different types of photography over the past couple of years. If I have to summarise what I enjoy seeing in a photo, across all genres, I think there are two main things I seek: a sense of the genuine, and also, the ‘wow’ factor. The first refers to how I only enjoy the work from someone who at least tries to be original, no matter what the outcome, expresses what they really want to show, rather than copying others’ work or blatantly emulating ‘trends’. The second refers to how I also like to be instantly stimulated by whatever I see in an image – there has to be for me, an exciting reason as to why the artist has chosen to express the situation visually. But seeking to use a ‘wow factor’ in my own work has often left me trapped in a rich diet of tidy polished colourful frames, and photo compositing.

This ‘diet’ has caused me to feel a certain cynicism to types of photography such as documentary, any photography that seemingly comes straight out of camera. I like to step back now and then and ‘detox’ myself from that standing. However, I also realise that even though my own images feature a lot of beauty, colour, boldness, and seemingly meaningless ‘beauty’, I have always been a fan of the ‘real’; particularly, naturally occurring juxtapositions within a scene. This has become more apparent to me since being attracted to abandoned buildings and their ready-made ‘found’ appeal:

I also understand why I have always been drawn to natural lighting, and ‘natural’ situations (a location or scene already prepared) rather than using the blank canvas of a studio or ever spending that much time having styling done, or preparing intricate props. Upon that ‘ready-made’ or natural scene of course, I introduce a contrived element which is in the form of a human, and often, for a variety of reasons including convenience, has been myself. This contrived human element, especially when I have used myself, is a way for me to call the final result ‘mine’.

It is refreshing to me, however, to remember that photography is not all about being beautiful, tidy, polished, perfect, and not always about compositing. I could do a week-long seminar on how I would encourage others to look at how you can achieve an effect across several images rather then just one: multiplicity images, HDR, panoramas, and even any combination of them put together, and indeed, the workshops I run are all about that. I think it is liberating to consider, when making a creative photograph, how you an add or remove something from the frame afterwards, whether to add more people, remove a chair for a trick effect or a person holding a reflector. Here are a few heavily composited images I created this year:

Body repairs - a ‘trick’ image where I have used compositing to ‘erase’ the chair and the person holding the chain. I also treated the background separately in order to lighten it and radically de-noise it, which added a painterly touch. I added more hair to the front of Katie’s head and reddened her lips. The image is cropped to keep the figure prominent in the frame and also treated with Curves adjustments.

Bending over backwards - a rare occasion where I completely transform what I consider to be a dark and mundane shot, into a very bright and peach-toned ‘trick’ image by compositing a raised leg from another shot (see the full mind-boggling process on this blog post).

Visions of Trees - An example of a multiplicity composite I did this year, where I shot many images of the two members of the band Visions of Trees running around an abandoned satellite dish and composited them together to create the feeling of flow and action.

A highlight of 2010 was having one of my images, The smothering from 2008 (also notably one of my most ‘processed’ or illusion-based images)  selected by curator Natasha Egan for the Art of Photography Show. It was also discussed by Egan in an interview where she compared the image to another photograph from the show, “Chris helps his girlfriend, Mona, smoke crack in their apartment in Hackney, London” (here) a very different kind of ‘photograph’ that Egan used to compare with mine conceptually, “they’re both in a box, both pictures are taken in these tight quarters, and yet the results are different people experimenting with… life’s challenges.”

In fact, being in the Art of Photography Show was a great thing for me because I had the chance to evaluate lots of other brilliant images at which I wouldn’t usually bat an eyelid, and to remember that photography is not always about beauty in its most typical forms. I find it healthy to step away from the priorities commonly found in that of mid-range fashion and other commercial photography, and recall that photography has the power to do many things other than to tantalise and make someone slobber over a woman or product (or both). The phrase ‘easy on the eye’ reminds us that gratuitous, isolated beauty in a photograph is precisely that: easy, and therefore does not challenge the viewer. It is irksome phrases like that which have helped me push my own boundaries.

I admire the work of Noah Kalina, Yulia Gorodinski, and Annette Pehrsson. First I must mention that all of these artists’ work is distinctly different from each other and I am not lumping them into one box, but they all provide for me, in some way, a change from my usual: they offer candidness, something a bit more ‘real’, and generally, less ‘composited’ in the fantastical sense. Whilst Noah’s work has a dry-humoured, candid simplicity, Annette’s has a beautiful timeless romanticism that draws as much attention to her use of interiors and nature as much as the people being portrayed in her images. Yulia’s work is a guilty, or not so guilty, pleasure of mine. Whilst her work has all the candidness of the other photographers mentioned here, she shows how she can combine feminine beauty and colourful post-processed allure into those same witty images. All three of these photographers are in my commercially-published book Self-Portrait Photography which comes out very soon – one of the best things awaiting me in 2011!

I have also recently been inspired by the images of Martin Parr, and my last blog post showed some shots I took over Christmas whilst inspired by browsing his work.

To look at the work of photographers here mentioned, is to almost enter into another world: that of the ‘haphazard shot’, or at least, what appears to be a haphazard shot. The motive of that shot is not necessarily to say everything, but to suggest, and by power of suggestion, to potentially to say a lot more. I could put numerous examples from the photographers I mentioned above, but I recommend going to their websites to look at their images (Kalina, Gorodinski, Pehrsson, Parr).

Some images I created this year had more of an influence from this alternate realm of image-making. In May shortly before going for a fashion shoot with make-up artist Ania Gastol and costume designer Lenka Padysakova, I looked at the work of Chris Dorley-Brown. His work can be described as social-documentary street photography (he does surprisingly use photo-compositing, but to different ends) – what a difficult influence to have stuck in my head as I photographed smiley model Maria around the marshes and Hackney Wick! But the locations selected by Ania were already interestingly contrapuntal to Maria’s beauty and Lenka’s elegant costume styling, so they provided a grungy contrast. I also wanted to keep the poses a bit odd or candid. Below is one of the images, where I feel that I did something veering towards this ‘haphazard shot’, one of the many shots where I kept the block of flats visible, in pursuit of something Dorley-Brown-esque:

The ‘haphazard shot’ almost thrives on what is not in the frame. Something might be cropped off, maybe someone’s body or even head. There is not always an obvious focal point that the camera (and therefore our eye) latches onto, but there is always something important focally, and the eye will lead about the frame in an intellectual dance of curiosity. The focal point might be understated or captured candidly. There will be ‘beauty’ somewhere, maybe in the form of a vibrant colour, an attractive person or a pleasing geometric form but they are rationed like a chocolate biscuit in the middle of a strict diet (and maybe quite elusive at first, as though the biscuit were hidden by the person imposing the diet…)

The moment I felt the least frustrated was when I photographed her spontaneously standing by a crumby looking Austin Maestro. At other times I encouraged her to pull out of her model poses and stand straight-on at the camera, not to smile or pose her hands, but just to ‘be’. I felt at the time that the images came out confused, half ‘fashion’ and half a bit candid. Later I felt more excited when putting them together as weird diptychs, and now, looking back, I think it was one of my favourite shoots of the year, be it a slow burner in my head. Having my original mind-inhabitant Dorley-Brown himself ‘fave’ a couple of my pictures on Flickr made me feel as if I had had done something right or interesting. I was also drawn to making juxtapositions through diptyches rather than elaborate composites:

Some photography (ie. typically most contemporary photography) is not meant to be looked at for fantasy. People look to it for reality, for documentation. We all know the feeling of looking at old family photos and naturally accepting that the ‘wow’ factor of cherishing such images lies in the time that has passed; the differences between then and now, the things that have aged or gone. It is the aim of the ‘haphazard shot’ photographers to evoke that same feeling in a photo that has been taken ‘now’. In such photos, the viewer is not looking for special effects. They are looking to see something that relates to truth, such as politically and socially. It may be ‘truth’ relating to a specific circumstance within a family or any wider situation. The ‘wow’ moment may happen more in the head than in the eyes. The photo may even be composited in Photoshop in some way, but it won’t be evident. It will hide away as elusive as a cloned-out crisp bag. Simply because the photographer has chosen to present the image, he/she is saying something is important; by the notion of their use of ‘photography’ itself, something is being called to our attention, be it witty, humorous, or simply the way in which the artist has viewed the scene through a pair of eyes that take nothing for granted. These kind of images encourage us to see something extraordinary in something ordinary.

The ‘haphazard shot’ celebrates all that is imperfect, and at once therefore perfect, within the glimpse of life as the photographer has witnessed it. It is less about instant arrest of the eyes, and more about invoking a story in a more suggestive than overt manner.

As much as I admire work of photographers producing images very different from mine, there is something I am personally drawn to about surrealism, fantasy, embellishment and sensationalism. I think that what I do enjoy personally as an artist is experimenting with exactly how much of those saturating elements to use. This shot of Maria below, for example, may be very sobering from the likes of levitation and multiple clones, but the bubbles in the air with the lips and eyes that appear on them are the implausible element, the slightly dreamy addition that remind us we are looking at the scene of some kind of contrived, styled shoot. The costume stylist is visible in the frame and is crudely cropped off, but somehow provided a pleasurable sense of what was going on that day, half contrived and half ‘behind the scenes’.

Below are pictures I took of myself (collaboratively with Matthew) early in 2010, where I was inclined to avoid processing the image too much, keep the crude but pleasing red doorway in the shot, and let the weird beauty of the abandoned children’s ward speak for itself with its words on the wall as shot. I describe these images are somehow self-indulgent in that they remind me of the pleasurable weekend I had that time. Instead of combining two of myself into one of my usual multiplicity pics I decided to do a diptych. However, the placing of the children’s books around me, and the overall weird implausibility of a woman in her underwear sitting in this context (interpreted as distinctly sexual by Newcity Art in Chicago) still makes this image far more ‘contrived’ than what is found in most ‘one shot’ photographers’ portfolios. It’s just not as ‘contrived’ as most of my other work.

So, of course, what is ‘contrived’ is entirely subjective and contextual. The contradicting issue is that most situations which photographers like to capture ‘candidly’ are those which have been set up originally for contrived purpose. Noah Kalina’s images of models in funny poses mid-shoots spring to mind. One example this year for me, was my image Soliloquy (below). I originally set up the camera to pose vacuously on the bed with most of my body and my face within the frame. Reviewing the images afterwards, this image struck me for its simplicity and minimalism. It said alot to me than the other images, even just as my own psychoanalysis, almost. Its one of those self-portraits that suggest my images can sometimes tell me more than I am trying to tell others… or at least take their own track of meaning without my conscious intentions playing a big role.

An exercise in emotional detachment (below) was shot with a cigarette and smoke, creating an effect delicious enough in-cam. I had the idea of the title beforehand so I was intent on expressing something a bit more ‘raw’, featuring myself doing something a bit more ordinary than usual. All that I wanted to do to the image afterwards was to crop (choosing to crop off the top of my head to further dissuade the notion of it being a normal ‘portrait’) and to bolden the colours and tones in Curves.

Below are shots taken for a fashion brand, where I have had the model standing demurely, not doing so much as even flexing a leg, looking down, looking out of the frame, boldly cropped in-cam, and statue-like amongst her sleepy surroundings. Other images on the same shoot did wilder things but these were moments where I relished in a ‘one-shot’ simplicity to emphasise the clothing a subtler way.

Below is a shot taken outside an abandoned house at the end of the summer. I had a lovely afternoon frolicking in gowns with Matt and Sarah Schloo, but I have since struggled to find something new in those images beyond what I have previously done in similar scenarios with gowns and abandoned places. Getting dressed into my normal gear and standing for a ‘look where I am’/'wish you were here?’ Facebook-type shot outside the dilapidated premises provided what I thought was a more interesting glimpse of the scene: just myself loitering. I liked it because it was genuine, and not posed in the manner of the shots inside. I didn’t feel the need to share it publicly though for that reason – it is a shot I like because it is not a performance, it’s my own souvenir of the day.

Some other images I enjoyed creating this year, and how they relate to natural vs. contrived

Above: Every day is a holiday, featuring Tim Andrews. This is obviously composited, to provide an illusion beyond reality, but the shooting stage itself as an epiphany for me as I loved the raw shots more than I usually do (especially for this rare occasion for me of photographing a man) and the process of collaborating with a subject whose ideas interplayed with mine was a new and enjoyable experience. I felt confident about the things I did (such as keeping the umbrella & light in the frame, especially when I hardly ever use lights like this) and the concept of what was going on in the images was important from the outset, whereas usually I do things in a bit of a blind dance for it to become clearer later.

Above: The same fashion shoot as the one producing the purple dress images further above. In terms of the model’s pose here, everything is ‘as-shot’; her pose, her hair and the props were all placed as such. However, this particular shot was composited together from about 6 shots, to form a photomerged ‘panorama’ of sorts, providing a fish-eye effect beyond the capabilities of the lens I was using.

Below: The morning they met the clouds, a collab with Brooke Shaden. The effect of the early morning mist had very much that same pleasing effect as cigarette smoke – I wanted to avoid over-processing the shot afterwards. I instead wanted to bolden the image overall. This image, however, is composited to bring the ideal shot of both Brooke and I together into one frame. That is largely to do with the technique of shooting self-portraits: you cannot be precise about pose and positioning as well shooting a subject in front of you.

It is a vast and potentially convoluted topic that I am broaching here and I am half reluctant to post it, in case I am inclined to continually re-edit, but a new year’s resolution is to avoid doing that. I have drafts from 3 years ago of essays I never posted!

Overall, I strive to hit the balance between artistic and commercial, to bring something a bit more dramatic and visually interesting to ‘fine art’, and something a bit more narrative-led and meaningful to otherwise ‘commercial’ images. I would not want to flounder helplessly between the two, never satisfying the needs of both, and being labelled as the outsider by each respective circle, but to succeed in making part of my living from both sides. Having my image discussed in an artistic context in The Art of Photography Show this year was certainly a confidence boost that it is possible.

In 2010 I also enjoyed going out to LA to meet Brooke Shaden and witness her approach to photography which is very much an antithesis to the likes of the photographers discussed earlier in this post. (I will be further collaborating with her in a couple of weeks.) Starting workshops was another feature of the year that I am significantly pleased about, having been something I was planning on starting a few months leading up to it. It was empowering to realise that I could host my own independent classes without the aid (or to be more precise, the burden) of doing them with/through a company, and that I could surprise myself in being miles more proactive than some of the so-called ‘business people’ I met in 2010 who tried to offer me such an opportunity. Workshops have been rewarding in multiple ways; financially, artistically, and socially; organising and running them has so far been very stimulating, and felt like good and healthy hard work. I look forward to doing many more in 2011.

My ostensible photography-related goals for 2011 include doing more commercial work (to find a proactive fine-art agent for advertising, fashion and/or other commercial work), keep doing enough regular work to continue saving £xxx a month to buy a house, and to work on a new, separate series of images that will embody a particular concept, and ambitiously push a few personal boundaries. Also this year I would like to completely eradicate frustration and negative feelings in my day-to-day career whilst maintaining a healthy level of self-criticism – and dedicate an afternoon a week to reading. I have so many books on my shelf and would like to see beyond their tantalising covers…

In 2011 I encourage myself, and all fellow creatives to keep doing what you do with confidence – and to always keep your own personal passion for your art as genuine to yourself as possible – but also to keep welcoming the inspirations of a more diverse range of photographers into your work.

Happy new year to all my blog readers!

Staying with, and collaborating with Brooke Shaden in LA has been a wonderful and enlightening experience. Our primary intention was to host two collaborative workshops which I wrote about in my last blog entry. The rest of the time, apart from preparing for, shopping for, and recovering from our workshops, was spent shooting together.

Hallowe’en in America for a first for me, pleasantly spent walking round Hollywood with Brooke and also my friend Don Thornhill who had come over from Oklahoma to hang out and also come to our workshop. Brooke showed me some great vintage shops in Hollywood, which sell a whole host of cheap vintage dresses that in my head put my favourite, much sworn-by second-hand shop in Brighton, Snoopers Paradise, to shame! Together with Don and another friend and workshopper Katie Echle, we also had a day at Universal Studios. It was a toss-up between that and Disneyland and I voted that Universal Studios would have more content I’d be interested in! At Universal I went on a rollercoaster ride for the first time (excluding a one-off venture onto Flamingo Land’s ‘Wild Mouse’ I had many years ago) in return for Brooke’s promise that she would watch a horror film of my choosing: the original Hallowe’en (Brooke is scared stiff of the entire horror genre). At Universal I very much enjoyed the tour around the grounds, which placed into surreal proximity to one another the sets for Psycho, Jaws and The Grinch…

Before our first workshop, Brooke and I shot together on a beach in Malibu at dusk. Brooke said she wanted to try out doing a long exposure. We used a variety of methods to make the focusing work in the dark conditions and posed for 20 second-shots together in various poses on the shore. We each took a picture from the final selection that we had contributed the most direction toward, and processed them in our own ways:

Abandoned spirits by Brooke Shaden (view on Flickr)

My image (view on Flickr)

Looking over them now, I don’t like any of the shots we took apart from the one Brooke processed. Most were out of focus or fuzzy, including the one I had initially liked and processed (above) and I felt that Brooke’s processing and the application of curves and textures had brought out a certain mist on the sea in the long exposure more than it obscured it. It was an interesting experience though and definitely more inspiring to me than shooting in daylight in the same location. Shooting the human body draped in light material, and allowing motion or the exposure to blur or obscure its form, is the same kind of exciting principle behind alot of my wavy-gown self-portraits taken in abandoned buildings: the lucky dip of coming back to the camera to find out how your movement (or in this case, lack of it), paid off in the creation of an image more ethereal than the norm.

Another day, we set off to a creek to take photos. Seasoned pro Brooke wanted to shoot underwater, and it was a desire also of mine, although somewhat still a fantasy. I had never submerged my body into such cold water before, so it was an accomplishment in itself that I managed to get above my ankles in it. Even though the day was warm, hot even, Brooke had warned me that the creek would still be freezing. I managed to pose for some shots but we could tell that the harsh lighting of the midday sun, even though we were in a relatively sheltered spot, was debilitating to the mood of the shots. After I got dressed and subjected Brooke into the same wet gown and positions I had been in, I encountered the same problems shooting her, but on reviewing the shots later there were some I found I liked, forming into a composite:

My image Troubled water (View on Flickr)

Brooke’s image The baths (view on Flickr)

I was surprised to find out for the first time how tightly Brooke plans her shots (shooting only 5 or 6 shots in total during a session, for one particular idea) whereas I can shoot tens of images before I fully feel a sense of direction of where a shoot might be going. Brooke produces her images exclusively in square-format, often building out her frames in-camera specifically to accommodate this, whereas I use all dimensions of frame. Brooke uses many textures across her work, whereas I very seldom use them at all. Brooke’s work (generally, but not always) feeds from a muted, dreamy palette, often mixing tones and textures as if swirled with a paintbrush; whereby my images are more frequently laden with bold and often blocky, arresting primary colours.

All of these comparisons are interesting to make in light of the similarities that are also evident between us, which initially drew us together when we discovered each others’ photostreams on Flickr. We both do self-portraits, use significant amounts of post-production, and are similarly self-taught which has reared somewhat idiosyncratically destructive workflows in Photoshop, where we basically use layers and the eraser tool to thrash out any one composite, as we have only ever had to heed our own tastes for our fine art’s direction. Through the new experiences of workshops and commercial jobs, that each of us have almost simultaneously taken up, we have had our workflows challenged. We can empathise with each other’s advent of learning new tools and techniques to adapt to these different contexts: in the workshops, the responsibility of teaching other people flexible and sensible Photoshop methods; and in commercial work, the advantage of keeping options open for clients whilst processing images.

I was also curious to see Brooke’s use of lighting in her shooting. For example, I was interested to see how she shot from a particular angle in the warehouse, shooting from a light spot into a darker corner, so that the background of the shot would essentially be eclipsed and she would have an easier job making the setting even more abstract in Photoshop. I, however, was drawn to creatively using the setting as a context to my pictures, sometimes problematically, given that there was alot of clutter in some places that could not be moved from its position. I was constantly drawn to the car shell, thinking again and again of how I could use it, wanting to use it as a directly interacting prop with the model, but there was a pillar right next to it and bits of other clutter which limited the angle from which it could be feasibly shot. I ended up having the car in my workshop image without even really trying that hard to do so – which I guess anchors the point that these desires, to abstractify or to accentuate the setting, are instinctive.

This is also evident in the images we created on a misty morning. After the second workshop was over and the end of my trip was drawing nearer, we knew we wanted to shoot again and to take advantage of an early morning rise. We got up to catch the sunrise and the mist over the fields before it, making shots of both of us, and of each other from the same position to composite together later (the best way to get the right shot of each person):

My image The morning they met the clouds (view on Flickr)

Brooke’s image Running from wind (view on Flickr)

My image has essentially taken all of the action of the pre-sunrise mist, the mid-sunrise sky, and the crowning glory of the sunrise itself, and baked them all together with the heat of a warm colour balance and curves adjustment. Each feature stands out larger than life (literally more emphasised than reality) in a kind of cinematic composition, sharpened and brightened. Brooke’s image is ‘cinematic’ is its own way. The first user comment on her Flickr post reading ‘it reminds me of a high definition movie’, with others citing ‘The Village’, ‘Wuthering Heights’ and ‘Sleepy Hollow’ as the image’s allusions. Compared to my image, the processing’s colour temperature is cold: cool, evening-like, murky, chilly, filling the square frame round the characters as they run together ‘from the wind’. It is clear that whilst Brooke was attracted to the light (or rather, darkness) and atmosphere of the pre-sunrise setting, I was more attracted to the moment of the sunrise itself, and the golden hues it sprang over the field on which we were standing. I wanted to shoot Brooke, and us together, standing in the new light.

Whilst I picked up a tip or two from Brooke, for example, feeling renewed confidence that the diffused light of a cloudy day is perfectly beneficial for alot of image concepts (especially as I enter another British winter), I was pleased that by the end of my trip, after having tried to encourage Brooke to use a reflector at the workshops, Brooke was taking a trip to the local camera shop to buy her own! Brooke, having been initially reluctant to use one, started to see the benefits of being able to bounce light back into the models’ faces without necessarily upgrading to wires, batteries and hindrance of anything more than that. I have only started to use reflectors in the last few months myself, and and I can’t believe how I went without one before in many situations with good sunlight.

I was inspired by my stay with Brooke, for several reasons. One reason is that there were many things about the way she works, as I’ve outlined above, that are similar to the way I have always worked. In some ways then, it was like watching an echo of myself having the same seemingly bizarre conviction to shoot in unconventional light or spaces, and with the shots later at home, to mystically cook up something in Photoshop, that would reveal itself with the same kind of mystique and intrigue as if it were coming from behind the screens on a make-up transformation programme. My trip with her encouraged me to believe that all of this kind of way of working is valid, exciting and full of endless possibilities, and that I should continue producing work in the way that feels right to me at any one time.

The differences in how we plan images, however, were also enlightening. Whilst we both routinely enjoy trawling around a charity/thrift shop, such as the Salvation Army store we rummaged in together the night before a workshop, Brooke would usually be looking for something predetermined – something she had specifically thought of before, and sought to hunt down. I’d be open to whatever grabbed my fancy as I wandered, and building an idea from what I find. Our differences in approach are innate to us and shouldn’t necessarily be changed at all, but I observed and admired Brooke’s drive to make a certain image that would propel her from initial idea through to execution in what you’d call a ‘bish bash bosh’ manner, efficiently and stoutly, whereas mine may romantically seize the moment but is open to potential procrastination and dithering. I regarded that taking a leaf out of Brooke’s approach might ensure that ideas that do swim round my head actually reach conception, by setting my sights on something physical that would guarantee some burgeoning seed of thought reaches germination and I can take the art world by storm with my amazing ideas (the last part of the sentence of course is a joke…)

I have had a Canon 5d MkII for over a year now and have always harped on about wanting to make a short film, but never really done anything serious with the movie function, especially as I spend more time moaning about having to manually focus it whilst it’s on. On our trip I wanted to do something with Brooke especially because she craved using the 5D to its full abilities whilst I was over there. So we did – on the last day of the trip – make a film, using model Olivia and a particular wooded setting, one used in many of Brooke’s images.

We shot and edited it together, though it was more of Brooke’s artistic vision than mine. (I had idea-paralysis for much of the time, spent sitting reclined in Brooke’s passenger seat usually falling asleep in a constant patch of sunlight as we rode up and down highways with Starbucks cappuccinos, with Brooke’s black ‘idea notepad’ slipping out of my fingers as I dozed off into a confusing dream. The pages were crammed with her stick-drawings and ideas anyway so there was no room for mine even if I had any). Brooke wrapped Olivia up in a couple of yards of ’stretchy fabric’ and had her writhe and break out of it like a chick from an egg, a naked woman emerging at the end. And here it is below:

During the trip I had the delightful privilege of seeing Brooke’s work in the flesh for the first time. Asking me whether I wanted to be ‘dragged out’ to Laguna Beach one evening to see her show, I replied of course! and saw her resplendent show at the JoAnne Artman Gallery. It is always fantastic to see work so large and physical after being limited to postcard-size web renderings for so long. Both the prints in frames and on canvas were beautiful. It was this evening when we had a chat with JoAnne, the owner of the gallery, who suggested the idea of doing a collaborative show of our work next summer. The idea was music to our ears – so going off to a restaurant afterwards to order nothing but a dessert, we discussed how we would embark on a whole new collaborative series for it. We may also be showing our work together as close as January 2011 if we are accepted for Photo LA, to which JoAnne is submitting us both individually and collaboratively. We’re also planning for Brooke to come over here next year to do UK workshops. The real motive, of course, of getting her to Blighty is for me to get a chance to make her a real builders’ cuppa from a ‘tea kettle’ – because the ‘frothy tea’ of which she enthuses is a result of her only having a microwave to heat up the water in. Watch this space!

At this very moment I am trying to plan my presentation that I am giving for the Art of Photography Show in San Diego next Thursday night, in which I have an image of mine exhibited. Steven Churchill, who I met in 2009 at the Palm Springs Photo Festival, kindly offered the idea of doing ‘An Evening with Miss Aniela’ as part of their speaker series, and I thought it was a great idea. I never worry about presentations or public talks – until a few days before I go. And now is that time…

Why does my mind seize up like this? I scheduled today to be the day I open Word and Powerpoint and get my arse into gear, but all day I have felt positively inert. Inertia is the classic feeling I get when I am trying to plan a presentation or talk of some kind. There is so much I want to say and yet I don’t know where to start in planning it. It’s like trying to write a dissertation, except in this context, you shouldn’t feel like you have to say a massive amount, as no-one wants to watch someone reading off reams of notes. Improvisation always sounds more natural and is more enjoyable to watch.

That said, I have a folder full of previous presentations I have delivered: from Photokina Cologne to Photocamp Bradford, and my habit is to go to my last delivered presentation (in this case, the last one was one I did at Portslade Community College) and simply tweak various bits to fit in line with my latest thoughts, cover any burning issues that have emerged since then, add new work and any topics they raise, and mention what else I’ve been doing. Main things to cover this time include my commercial Self-Portrait Photography book that has just gone to print (a mix of technical, art and commercial like nothing the shelves of Waterstones has ever seen – and that I am VERY excited about), and my recent fashion and band photo commissions, along with more to say about the hybrid nature of the modern photographer/artist since I first started airing my thoughts in my Photocamp presentation last year.

I always am tempted to start the whole thing from scratch, bored by the idea of trotting off the same introductory lines about how I got into photography and Flickr this and Microsoft that, but then I come round to the sensible conclusion that my previous presentations actually went quite well due to those carefully prepared and illustrated Powerpoint slides, delineating my emergence from bored depressed student to present ‘artist’, happy but slightly confused at what to call myself…

(Above: Sojourn and Soliloquy… two separate self-portraits from my work that both use naked flesh and yet have somewhat very different tones.)

I have found that having a Powerpoint slideshow is always necessary, simply to be able to show my pictures. It’s also a way to show a few bits and pieces like the odd brainstorm or press clipping. I have found though, that incorporating a PP show is the point of difficulty itself – because then you have to work out what you are going to say whilst a certain image is onscreen –thus initiating the need to write down some notes with the slide number alongside – and the whole thing necessitates a kind of choreographing. That leads to the need for rehearsal – unless you want to run the risk of eradicating the natural, free-flowing, actually-look-at-the-audience appearance. Some of my past talks have been so carefully prepared though, that I end up sounding natural simply because I know the words so well that I don’t have to look at my notes.

I’m sitting in a car park writing this blog post. I needed to get some space to myself to be able to think – that’s how foggy my mind goes at times like this. I can’t have any clutter around me, or any people talking about anything at all, or the cat unfurling its long black body near me and causing the ultimate delicious distraction… I brought a hot water bottle and my laptop and have managed to get quite a lot done at last. I made the mistake of bringing my internet dongle with me but at least I got this blog post up. Unfortunately, a guy has just turned up in his van and parked opposite, and is staring eagerly thinking I am some kind of dogger. I think I will post this, turn on my engine and move on…

My talk is free to attend, at the Lyceum Theatre, San Diego, Thursday 28^th October at 6pm. Read more about the event at this link.