Category: photography
Celluloid Memories
In tandem with scanning old film transparencies, I have been taking photographs on some donated film for the first time in years.
The rolls are black and white print film, the type I roared through about ten years ago when I was printing as many images as I could at various dark rooms across the city.
As I work through the fourth roll, I realise that I won’t have the time to develop my own photos. Also, the usual labs that I went to for prints has now shut. There will be a search for a new lab to post these rolls to.
As I said, I am also scanning through a large amount of old transparencies, which I took roughly between 2005-2010. I am amazed at the quality of some shots and the latitude of tones and colours therein. Most have been on 35mm, but a fair amount have been on medium format film. These latter shots have been stunning to look at.
During the photography webinar I took part in with Wendy Catling and Dr. Natasha Barrett, the convenor Dr. Matt Finch asked us what we wanted to do next in photography. I said that I very much wanted to return to medium format photography, and even try large format photography at some point. Taking photos on film, and looking at the results, has made me very aware of wanting to take time over crafting a photograph in future.
Self
One rainy night in Austin, Texas during the South by South West festival in 2015, I watched the audience from a sheltered area while waiting for a show.
In the crowd, a young woman took numerous selfies, illuminated by the stage and auditorium lights, one after the other, until she got the shot she wanted.
Prior to that moment, I’d always been disdainful of selfies, looking on them as superficial, but I saw that young woman’s photography as her saying, “I am here,” and wanting to see herself in her best light. Good for her, I thought.
That vignette made me think back to my attendance at that same festival the year before. In an on-stage interview, the actress Tilda Swinton talked of how her family had painted portraits of themselves hanging in their grand home. She said that the sight made her used to seeing herself “in the frame.”
These two festival memories stayed with me when I decided to use my newly acquired lighting equipment to take self portraits. I’d been uncomfortable with this: the time taken to set up a shot of oneself felt indulgent, but I had wanted to take portraits and understand how to light them; in this current pandemic, who better to experiment with other than one’s self?
I’ve been using one light so far: Rembrandt lighting from 45 degrees up and to the side; and from a height at a 70 degree angle. I take the photos on a timed exposure of ten seconds, giving me enough time to pose after setting up the picture. (I may buy a long cable release for this purpose.)
I’m learning, slowly. Good focus takes some effort. I definitely hope to use what I’ve learned with other sitters. I am nowhere near a portrait “style”. But it’s very interesting to sit for a portrait and see myself in the frame, especially as a black person, interpreting and representing what I look like in a photograph. I am here.
The Outer Limits
On a filmmaking course at Raindance, the lecturer Elliot Grove talked of the abilities of the equipments that we could get our hands on to make our films.
He talked of instruction manuals and encouraged us to read and test our equipment by them. Then he stated an extraordinary fact: the instruction manuals did cover a lot of what the equipment was capable of, but not everything. The cameras, sound mixers and editing platforms we would use could do up to 50 per cent more than these manuals were letting on, and we would be well-advised to experiment with these as much as possible.
A musician friend once told me of the myriad ways he could work with a newly acquired mixing software package. I paralleled this with my photo editing gear: with so many features, how could one know exactly what to use in one’s work? Experiment, he answered.
Acquaintances introducing me to photo editing software talked of their experimentation: slowly working through all the features and finding out what worked best for them. I’ve continued doing so, and I think that my digital darkroom skills have improved as I’ve done so.
With my cameras, I continue to work my way through instruction manuals for years-old equipment. There always seems to be something new to discover. I find it hard to imagine buying more equipment if I haven’t reached the limits of what I’m currently using, be they a still camera, a handycam or a phone camera. “Better” photography could result as much to skilful use as well as better equipment.
In his terrific book Digital Film-Making, director Mike Figgis talks of using a camera often enough so that it becomes an extension of your hand, like a pen or a paintbrush. I love this approach. The idea of really knowing a piece of equipment and taking it to the limits of its capabilities is far more appealing to having a new piece of kit.
The Joy of Fashion
During a stay in hospital to have my wisdom teeth removed, I read the February 1987 British Vogue issue from cover to cover. Really, from the masthead to the copyright notices. I was fascinated. I was 17 years old.
I remembered buying a 1985 Cosmopolitan and being excited by the British launch of Elle that same year. I started buying Vogue shortly after. I bought a lot of fashion magazines. I read a lot more in the library when I was a student at the then Manchester Polytechnic. I had no idea why.
At no point in my avid fashion magazine buying did I show one iota of interest in fashion as a career. Working in a bookshop after college, I found myself way more comfortable selling books in the fiction department than I ever did in the art section, with its lush volumes on design and clothing. And yet, fashion always interested me.
At best, I am a tidy rather than innovative dresser. One could describe my wardrobe as conservative, at a push. My fashion reading certainly didn’t influence me in that way. I was never one for noticing people’s outfits until very recently. And yet, I looked out for music videos and films styled by Robin Derrick, I knew all the best fashion photographers’ names and work, and I enjoyed watching fashion shows. Quite the disconnect.
Something changed when I resumed drawing in the past few years. I watched YouTube tutorials on drawing technique: an interest in figure drawing led to my following artists who drew fashion images. One in particular mentioned one of their favourite books to learn from: Fashion Illustration by Anna Kiper.
On buying the book, I looked through the pages on a train journey. I was entranced: the shapes, fabrics, poses and colours therein were fascinating; reading and drawing from the book was an immediate pleasure and remains that way.
I had wondered all this time what this whole fashion “thing” meant to me, and here it was: fashion brought joy, beauty and colour into my life. Looking at fashion made me happy. As I draw it, that happiness is multiplied.
I continue to work my way through Ms. Kiper’s book, as well as through tear sheets from magazines. As I draw, I wonder whether I will invent my own designs and whether my drawing skills will enable me to also draw the spaces in which these clothes are worn. But for now, the act of drawing and celebrating fashion is enough.
Portfolio
After using Adobe’s photography editing products, particularly Photoshop and Lightroom, I’ve been uploading selected images onto their Behance platform.
Behance is a portfolio site, where creatives can upload projects containing photography, video, graphic design, product design or any form of artwork to enhance their profile.
I’ve enjoyed using it so far because it’s enabled me to collate completed projects, like photo stories or studies of a particular subject, in a way that gives me more control than any other platform I’ve used.
While it seems I can only use Behance as long as I’m paying for Adobe’s products, this isn’t too onerous: I’ll be working with Photoshop and Lightroom for a while yet.
My Behance profile can be found here.
New filmmaking
After making my environmental short, I have started work on a new short film.
I wrote the script some months ago, but put it to one side as I had started writing a feature screenplay that expanded on this short’s idea. As writing progressed, I returned to this short as I found myself more and more interested in playing with its ideas.
Although realising this short film is a daunting prospect, the shoot has been enjoyable so far, with props and shot set ups I haven’t used before. Where I think things will become complex is with the sound, which will be a huge part of this film.
In any case, I’ve greatly enjoyed the process. I’m looking on short films more as sketches or practice and I’m enjoying making as many as possible, on any media I can use. And the more I do it, the less daunting it will be.
Together
Last year, I was contacted by Dr. Matt Finch to take part in a webinar about photography. I was flattered to be asked, although I was unsure what I could contribute to such a discussion.
While schedules and Covid kept postponing the webinar, Matt was tenacious in his organisation and one morning in early April, I joined Matt, Australian artist Wendy Catling and New Zealander research librarian Dr. Natasha Barrett in a Zoom meeting to discuss our experiences with photography.
With Dr. Finch asking questions and leading the discussion, we touched upon memory, migration, power and agency in our individual photography stories.
As the discussion developed, I was fascinated by Wendy and Natasha’s work, as well as their photographic experience. I found myself becoming emotional at times when we touched upon our first experiences of photography and how these experiences linked us to our past, family and culture.
When the discussion was over, I was most struck by how this was the first in-depth conversation about photography that I’d actually had with other photographers. This communication was so important: in creative endeavours, filmmakers talk to other filmmakers, artists talk to artists, musicians talk to musicians. Isolation is detrimental to creativity.
The filmmaker Wong Kar-wai advised that when a creative is starting out, it is best to collaborate and communicate with others rather than toil alone. As I listen again to the podcast Matt has made from this webinar, with its insights and revelations, I’d do well to remember this.
All that remains is to thank Dr. Matt Finch, Wendy Catling and Dr. Natasha Barrett for their openness in taking part in this meet up and continuing to communicate afterwards.
The podcast can be found on Soundcloud and on YouTube.
Everything’s important
After numerous experiments, I’ve finally got the hang of my Epson V750 PRO scanner, so I decided to rescan many of my medium format and 35mm transparencies.
Initially, I went back to the files of mounted scans that I’d built up between 2005 and 2010, before I started regularly printing my own photos, and a long time before I turned to digital capture.
What surprised me was that when I went back to these curated images, I also wanted to see the exposures that I’d rejected. Contained in transparent sleeves within stiff card envelopes, were many more transparencies, showing different angles or different subjects altogether in the exposed rolls.
I realised that I wanted to scan every one of them, so the rescans were supplemented with first time scans of “new” old and long rejected slides.
As I work through the slides, I’m uploading different selections on my Instagram, Flickr and Behance accounts. I’m glad I’ve kept all these transparencies: even a decade after taking them, I’m still learning from them.
Around the world
As I continue to scan old medium format transparencies, I realise that I was quite attached to the camera: I seem to have taken it everywhere with me; to work; on dates; on holiday. The images are personal and the format makes them look grand.
Euston Station
Outer Circle, Regent’s Park
Regent’s Park
Tobago
Victoria Station
By and large, these images are snaps, taken while I walked around. I worked hard making sure that the exposure and speed, but there wasn’t much in the way of consideration about compositions. When I return to this camera, there will be much more considered framing: the picture taking process will be a lot slower, but the images should be spectacular.
Medium format
Transparency film scanning continues, with my concentration on medium format images while I acquire more 35mm slide mounts.
Even when an image isn’t that impressive, the detail therein makes the image great to look at: from my twin lens reflex’s gorgeously large viewfinder to the image’s old-fashioned square shape, taking photos in medium format has been a delight.
Broadway in Victoria. According to current maps, the building from which this photo was taken has been demolished.
Evening at Victoria Station
Gliddon Road, west London. Genuinely can’t think of why I went there.
The most recent images I’ve scanned have been from 2007. Since then I’ve taken many more images on digital and on 35mm, but looking at these scans (just a single pass this time) I may well return to this camera. The limited exposures on a roll and slower technique in taking pictures may lead to a more considered image.
Burning Details 
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