No matter where you are in the landscape, they just appear to be in your line of sight at each and every turn. And if they are not, then they are in the very corner of your eye: asking – or perhaps demanding to be included.
I believe that this is a form of visualisation. We are being guided to make an image of something because it has a presence.
It attracts our eye.
For some, this comes very easily, and for others, they just see ‘everything’ and make very un-focussed images: one’s without a presence or point of interest. For those of us who can’t help being drawn to certain subjects in the landscape, I think we are responding to our environment.
It’s almost like we’re on remote control – not really ourselves. We are drawn, or compelled to make an image of something and we’re not conscious as to ‘why’.
Olstind was exactly like that. I found that the mountain seemed to dominate my view at every turn. He demanded to be included in many of my shots and I was very happy that he did, because I found him a most pleasing subject.
I say ‘he’, because the mountain looks like an old man. His face has a beard.
Don’t you think that Olstind looks like he’s got a nice warm coat on, covering his neck too?
So I decided to be obvious about him. Better to just please him and take at least one direct shot of him where it’s clear that he’s the main point of interest, or perhaps better put – the star.
This is my last post for this week. I’m off to the isles of Islay and Jura for a week.
I’ve been working on my Velvia films the past few days but still have quite a bit left to do. I will post a contact sheet of the intended portfolio once I’m done.
Reine, mid winter sunrise
In the meantime, I’d like to leave you with this image taken from a little peninsula in the town of Reine. I used a long exposure for this, and found some foreground where there was ….. ‘nothing’. I find that ‘nothing’ often makes images much easier to digest – easier for the eye to take in. This shot is really about the sloping mountain, leaning into the frame, and the texture of the overcast morning sky.
One of the very best things, maybe the best thing in doing what I do, is meeting new people.
Over the past two years i’ve met clients from Switzerland (a lot!), Norway, Sweden, Denmark, USA, Canada, France, Germany, Spain, Italy, Australia, Portugal, Poland and even India. Many become friends.
But I also meet others on the periphery of what I do. My friend Vlad Donkov is no exception to this. A Bulgarian photographer with a passion for the snow (he should have been born in the north I think!), Vlad ventures to Greenland and the Arctic Circle each year.
Camilla's view, Lofoten , March 2010
Last year, he got in touch with me and after a few emails, he suggested I come out to Lofoten with him this winter time. He wanted me to come for longer than the 8 days I was free. It was an amazing experience. Not just the landscapes, but the people that I met there – kind, open, warm. I now feel I have some friends to go back and see. Surely this is one of the best things that something like a passion for photography can bring you?
So tonight I was speaking to one of my new Norwegian friends about Mørketid – the ‘dark time’ they have in the far north. Checking the Photographer’s Ephemeris tonight I see that Mørketid commences on December the 11th and continues until January the 4th. It is the time when the sun does not rise above the horizon and is considered a special time. My Norwegian friend says she does not miss the light during this time as there are lots of celebrations and something ‘timeless’ about the experience of being there.
So I’ve been invited, and I’ve decided I should go (it doesn’t take much to twist my arm). Maybe the elusive Aurora will make an appearance, but there is much to shoot, even in perpetual darkness. Long exposures turn darkness to day.
I think this is worth exploring. I’ve been told there are faint colours on the horizon, plus, the chance to shoot long exposures of the region should prove interesting. When the light does arrive back, twilight starts at 9am and finishes at 11am, sunset at 11 and sunset at 1pm, when twilight commences until 3pm. That’s the most perfect day for a photographer who loves to shoot the golden hours and its periphery light.
Now, I’ve been thinking of suitable music for a podcast on Norway, and since I’m a fan of Maria Kalaniemi, who plays very emotive Scandinavian accordion music, I thought I’d ask her for permission to use a track of hers titled ‘Nautilus’, but I wasn’t aware that she is Finnish. I thought she was Norweigan. So back to the drawing board on that one!
Still, it gives me a nice introduction to her music for you. I know, Accordion music isn’t everyone’s taste, but I feel there’s a deep soul in what she plays…. particularly the last piece in this video. And as I keep saying, inspiration comes in many forms. Just because we’re photographers, doesn’t just mean we should draw our inspiration from other photographers work. There is a whole world out there and I get inspired by beautiful music as much as I do from the visual world.
Playing around tonight. Just thought I’d post these GF1 images. I will get my Velvia films processed tomorrow, and posted up on the site in a month or two once I have time to scan them. I’m away to Skye next week on a workshop, so I hope you enjoy looking at these for the time being.
(click on image to enlarge)
I love that little Lumix GF1. It’s a complete bargain – small, compact, great images and it’s dirt cheap too. I can’t figure out why I never thought about this little system before.
I’m just home from the Lofoten islands. It’s a special place.
Many thanks to Camilla and Vlad for their company this past week and for opening the door to me and letting me meet their friends. I now have a reason, rather than just photography, to go back to Lofoten.
These images were taken with my Lumix GF1. I have to say I’m a little smitten with the system. But I did shoot with my Mamiya 7 and so needless to say, I will be keen to get the films back to work on the images. Film, for me, provides an organic look that is not possible with digital. They are, in my opinion, quite different mediums, both valid, but different.
Anyway, the weather while I was on Lofoten was crazy. It reminded me very much of Patagonia with the winds coming from nowhere. One moment everything is calm and the next, you’re being taken off your feet by a passing storm.
I seem to have a preference for winter. There is something magical about the light at this time of year, how it plays on the landscape and how it is constantly changing. But I feel I’m not too far away from booking a flight back there for this summer. It is a special place.