I've just had notice of cancellation for my Bolivia photo tour this June 1st to 10th.
Containing the world's largest salt-flat, and a landscape that resembles a Dali painting, there is much scope for abstract and graphic photographic compositions. It is my favourite place to photograph right now.
If you're interested in coming, you can find out more, and also book here.
In just a few days time, I will be thrown back into Winter. Each February I spend two weeks above the arctic circle in Norway's Lofoten islands, and each year it's just like a winter reset.
Made after several days of looking at this scene. Sometimes I like to let a view sit in my mind's eye for a while before I know how I think I want to capture it.
It can be a bit of a jolt to the system, to have to go to Norway at the end of January. While winter is starting to show signs of loosening it's grip here in Scotland ( the days are gradually getting longer), it's not the case in the Lofoten islands up above the arctic circle.
One of the ways I cope with this, is to review my images from Lofoten. It helps me get my 'head into gear' for the trip ahead. My mind is filled with mountains and that beautiful northern light for days before I arrive.
I think there always has to be a 'settling in' period when we venture out with the camera. Go somewhere so different from where we've come from, and it can me physiologically challenging.
But today I've been thinking about the image at the top of this post. It is the view from my friend Camilla's spare bedroom. Camilla lives in the beautiful town of Reine, and her home is situated on the very edge of Reinefjorden. It's one of the most amazing views in the world as far as I am concerned, and it's a place where you can constantly study the shifts in light and season.
Making the photo you see here was hard. Simply because each time I looked out my bedroom window, the view seemed to suggest that although there was something beautiful happening every second, trying to capture the essence of it, would be a challenge.
I think some locations can be quite intimidating on that front. They're just so enigmatic, that the act of trying to start, to begin to make photographs of it, can be quite daunting. Start on the wrong foot and you might just screw up. Take the wrong approach and you might find you feel dissatisfied with what you create: often I feel there has to be a right time and it's best to just leave things until it feels right. So I left my camera in the bag for a few days.
The pressure was gone.
I just enjoyed what I was seeing and this in turn allowed my mind to become immersed in Lofoten. I found my mind and my dreams of what I was seeing began to sink into my emotions over the coming days until it eventually became second-nature.
I started to understand, to anticipate what the winter storms were going to do to the view I had in front of me. I knew by now where the snow showers were going to go and what parts of the mountain scenery would be obscured and it was at that moment that I took up my camera and started to make photographs.
I'm pleased to let you know, that as of today, I've released a second edition of my popular 'Simplifying Composition' e-Book.
completely re-written and expanded (now 68 pages long).
I felt that since writing the first one in 2010, my abilities as a workshop teacher had moved on quite a lot. Over the years I've been teaching my workshops, I've added to my thoughts on composition, so much so, that I felt I needed to update the book to reflect this.
But rather than updating the e-Book, I've chosen to totally re-write it from scratch. So it's definitely worth getting if you liked the first one, and want to learn some new things :-)
Flow..... and relationships between similar shapes and patterns.
The new edition is double in size - 68 pages long to be exact, and is packed with lots of new advice and tips on improving your compositional awareness while out in the field and when reviewing the work later on.
In writing this edition, my aim was to utilise the experiences gained over the past six years teaching workshops, to give you an updated view on how to simplify your compositional skills.
The book is split into three sections:
And here is the table of contents to the new version:
S-curves and also background emphasis with focal-lengths.
3 Introduction Part 1. Flow
6 The flow of your eye
7 Interpreting the flow within an image
10 An example
13 Introducing the diagonal line
16 Looking for diagonals in the ground
20 Looking for diagonals in the sky
23 Introducing the curve
25 Curves & mirroring
28 Introducing the s-curve
31 Asymmetrical s-curves
33 Patterns, mirroring & tonal separation
35 Cohesion in the landscape
39 Foreground emphasis
41 Background emphasis
44 Vertical spacing between subjects
47 Avoiding the fish tank effect
52 Visualising in 2D
56 Working with parallax
59 Strengthening composition
62 strengthening cohesion
65 Improving your workflow
68 epilogue
Mirroring in the landscape, asymmetrical shapes in the landscape and parallax issues.
I feel particularly pleased with this updated edition. I felt I got the sequencing of the chapters right because one aspect of composition seemed to lead onto another in a way that has made the book very easy to get into.
I do hope you enjoy reading this one. I fully intend it to be a reference that you can return to time and time again.
A few days ago I posted that I was currently in Lalibela, Ethiopia for a special orthodox christian celebration. It’s been wonderful to come back and experience the place for a second time and I feel I’ve done much better this time in portraying the soul of some of the inhabitants of this town. There are a few images etched into my mind that really stand out: I have a few of local priests and of some of the beautiful children here, but maybe the ones that really stand out in my mind are those of the Ethiopian woman wearing traditional head dress.
I’ve been thinking today about why it might be the case that I’ve done better this time. Especially since I feel my efforts haven’t justified the images that are imprinted on my mind so far. Four years ago when I came here, I really worked the place as much as I could and felt I didn’t really ‘get’ the place. This time round it’s the opposite way - I feel I’ve put very little effort in and yet I think I’ve captured quite a few memorable portraits in the space of two days.
How can this be? I’m really not sure, and currently it’s just a hunch as I haven’t seen the final processed films yet. But if I have learned one thing over the years of shooting film, it is that when I manage to make a memorable photograph: I tend to know it at the time of capture. The good ones just seem to be like that - they leave an indelible impression on your mind and emotions and I’ve found that they stay there, powerfully, right up until I get the processed films back from the lab and the confirmation that what I felt and saw at the time really did work.
Of course, it would be very easy to say that the reason why everything has gone so well this time is due to my improvement as a photographer. But I don’t think so. In fact I’m feeling rather rusty when it comes to photographing people, particularly in developing world countries.
First there is the issue of feeling that I’m exploiting my subjects, even though I know I’m not like that and would never take advantage. But being surrounded by poverty tends to make you stare at yourself a bit more than usual and ask yourself some awkward questions.
As I stated a few days ago, I seem to have become really shy in front of people I really want to photograph. My guide helped a lot, but he couldn’t read my mind and he didn’t know when I was secretly longing to photograph someone. Inside, I’m crumbing to pieces at the thought of approaching them. God, I really am rusty as a people photographer.
But perhaps there’s something in this unfocussed approach to my trip that’s working for me, rather than against me. My feeling of helplessness is in some ways, making me go more with the flow. I’ve more or less decided that it’s just great to be here, and any good photos are an added bonus. I can’t help but wonder if serendipity is paying me a visit and offering me more than if I’d tried to orchestrate it myslef. I really don’t know.
As well as myself changing in the past four years, so too has Lalibela. Coming back has allowed me to compare, but it’s also forced me to notice the differences between what I was looking for back then, and what I’m looking for now. Years ago I would be very happy if I managed to get someone’s attention to work with me on a photograph, whereas now I feel I’m looking for more of a connection in the way they smile at me or how they talk to my camera.
And Lalibela is a bit more confident these days. Everyone seems to have mobile phones - Chinese fake Samsung Galaxy phones, and the town is a little more touristy than it was back in 2010. Tuk Tuk’s are everywhere - those strange little car inventions from India arrived only six months ago and I can already see the streets of people and mules being replaced by two stroke engines in four years time if I do ever return. But mostly I feel the inhabitants are getting used to cameras being around and I guess that’s maybe why I’m finding things just a bit easier this time. Ethiopian’s are very generous people at heart, sincere and open and they like to share. It seems that asking to make photos of people here is considered a compliment rather than an intrusion.
One last thought before I go. Coming back to Ethiopia has made me re-connect with why I got into what I do in the first place. The wonder of exploring a place that is completely different from my western existence has always made me feel more alive. It also offers me the chance not only to see new things, but to see things about my own life and myself that I had never had the luxury to consider before.
Next stop Japan, then Bhutan in April. I can’t wait to see what unfolds as I feel I’ve found my passion again for photographing people, even if I am a little rusty.
As I type this, I'm sitting in the Seven Olives hotel in the heart of Lalibela, Ethiopia. I've come here to photograph the special christian celebration Timkat.
It's been four years since I came here to photograph Meskel - a special orthodox christian celebration held each year in September.
I remember my first visit well. I was a little overwhelmed by the people, who appear to dress the same as back in biblical times. Lalibela is after all one of the birth places of christianity.
Photographically speaking, I was also a little overwhelmed back then and today I'm finding nothing has changed for me. I seem to be going through a period of adjustment. Landscape photography may come easily to me, but I feel it takes me a day or two to settle into making pictures of people. Most of my adjustment period is due to an inner shyness that I have. I'm not really sure where the core of my shyness sits: I was very shy as a kid, less so as a teenager and I'm very open as an adult, but I think we all have that inner-core - that old-self still lurking within us. So I think my young-shy self is still there, but he only really comes out when I'm faced with something I really love. When it matters, as is the case when I see a potential beautiful photograph of someone, I can become quite unable to direct my subjects to get what I am envisaging.
I saw so many great compositions this morning on my first outing with my guide - Muchaw - who is one of the Deacons here. But I really didn't have much confidence to take my camera up to my eye at first. I guess I just have too much respect for others as I simply do not wish to offend and would be hurt if I knew I'd upset anyone.
But my guide is a great help in this respect. He is able to break the ice where I could not and I think this is one thing that I have reminded myself of - it's always worth employing a guide when I travel, as they can help smooth the relations between the subjects I wish to photograph and me. Plus I also think that hiring a guide is good, because it's a positive way of giving some money back to the local economy.
It's only the first morning, but tomorrow and Tuesday are two full days of celebrations. I think there should be many photographic opportunities since my guide has got me access to the heart of the celebrations.
Looking back at my first visit in 2010, I remember being right in the heart of some dance celebration making photos and found myself staring out towards the surrounding crowd. In that crowd, were all the tourists I'd gotten to know at my hotel, each of them with a bemused look on their face as if asking 'how on earth did Bruce get in there?'.
It was so tempting to take a digital SLR for this shoot. Many of the locations are in dimly lit churches, and it's something that I might have to reconsider for another time. It is High ISO territory for sure if you want to be able to shoot everything here. But I prefer to work with what I know well and love, and so I've brought two Contax 645 bodies and a few lenses with me. I have the 55, 80 and 140 which translate approximately to 35, 40 and 70mm. Film stock is Kodak Portra 160.
I feel this year is about making people pictures. It's about having a welcome change. It's also something I love very much as it gives me inspiration in ways that landscape photography does not. Even though I feel that portraiture is not something that comes as naturally to me I get a lot of pleasure out of the exchange with my subjects and often the photography is of secondary importance.
Dear all,
Just a quick head's up today that a space has become available for my Iceland trip this March 2nd to 10th. If you'd like to know more about it - just click on the image below :-)
You'll be in good hands - there are another six on the group (I like to run with small group sizes - not the usual twelve or sixteen that many other tours run with) plus I have my good friend Raynor assisting me for the nine days we are there.
As it stands, I believe this might be my last south-coast trip for a while, as I'm planning some new tours for 2016.
Photography continues to give me so much joy. Often I never see where that joy may come from until it arrives and last week has been a perfect example of that.
While running a workshop in the north of Scotland, one of my clients - Anmeng - told me that my photography reminded her of a photographer from her homeland of China. She explained that Lang Jingshan's photographs almost feel like paintings, and she saw the same aesthetic in my own imagery. I was intrigued, because I know my influences well: Michael Kenna's work from China and Japan have made quite an impression on me and I think I've learned a great deal about composition from immersing myself in his beautiful work. So I had a hunch that what Anmeng was seeing in my own work, was perhaps Kenna's influence on me.
Drawing Water from the River at Dawn, 1934, photograph by Lang Jingshan
After the workshop, Anmeng came round to show me some of the work she had been mentioning and also to tell me about some places in China that she thought I would really enjoy visiting. The conversation was very good and I felt I learned a bit more about China, but also, that I got to hear about a great photographer that I'd never heard of before.
The images you see in this post today were made by Lang Jingshan, who died in 1995 at the age of 103. He is considered to be the father of Asian photography by many.
Some of the work you see here dates from around the 1930's or earlier. I read up a bit about him today and discovered that he 'defined a style', which I feel is almost a photographic version of Chinese historical painting. It's very beautiful and I believe many of the images are the result of merging several negatives together in the darkroom. This is nothing new of course as photographers have been combining negatives and other such manipulations in their work since the dawn of photography. But I think there is a very eastern 'elegance' to the work shown here.
Photograph by Lang Jingshan
There's obviously a sense of romance, but also of space and delicate use of light and space in the work. I think I am a fan.
I had a look around to see if it's possible to buy some books of Lang Jingshan's work, but they are either out of print or simply impossible to get. Which is a real shame.
I'd like to know more, and continue to be inspired by what I see in his work. He makes me want to go to China now, and although I have no intention of copying the style, I can't help wonder what might come of spending time in some of the beautiful landscapes of China.
Mooring in the Misty River at Night, 1937, photograph by Lang Jingshan
As one thing leads to another, so to does inspiration move from one photographer to another. I believe that what my Chinese friend saw in my work, was Kenna's influence, and Kenna in turn, has been influenced by his study of Chinese art and other photographers. I know so because Michael told me of his love for another Chinese photographer who's work he has collected in the past.
Photograph by Lang Jingshan
Maybe these images look historical or old to you. Maybe you see the beauty in them that I see also. There's so much to be gained by learning about photographers, old as well as new. Sometimes work that was created long ago, is only interesting from a historical perspective, but it's also wonderful when something like Lang Jingshan's work leaps out at me and fills me with wonder. I think that's just such an amazing thing to happen: that we can be inspired by work that was created so long ago, and is, to most, long forgotten.
Many thanks to Anmeng Li for coming to Skye with me, and for sharing Lang Jingshan's work with me :-)
Dear reader, Happy new year!
Well it's a new year and I'm keen to get on with some new projects and some not so new :-)
One not so new project is that of a third printed book. This one, hopefully will be about the Altiplano region of South America, slated for release sometime in late 2016 if things go according to plan.
This is just a 'working' cover and may not resemble the final cover in any way. It's just something I like to create during the early stages, as it helps me visualise, get direction and maintain focus.
Altiplano means 'high-altitude plain'. So it's a bit of a catch-all for some of the high elevation landscapes of South America.
A monograph on the altiplano has been something I've been working towards since 2012. The set of images I created on that visit got me thinking about a book project. I seemed to get a handle on the more abstract, minimalist landscapes of this region as I think they allow for a study of form, tone and colour.
I returned in 2013 thinking that I just needed one more trip to have enough images for a book. But things didn't work out that way. I went back with a fixed set of visuals in my mind of what I needed to 'complete the picture' of what I saw in 2012, only to find that I was presented with yet another story, a further subtext to the original story I had visualised. I now feel I've found a landscape that has much potential for showing me the way forward in terms of personal growth and development of my own style. Each subsequent visit so far, has just opened up more doors for me.
Images from my 2013 shoot.
This year I will be visiting the altiplano regions of Chile, Bolivia and also a new area of Argentina that I only just recently found out about. I will be there for just under two months and I can't wait to see what new stories unfold for me whilst there.
I have a Bolivian friend - Marisol, from the town of Uyuni. She is a professional guide and will be accompanying me on my trips across the high plains of southern Bolivia. Marisol lived in Edinburgh for over a year as a sponsored student and it is here that I got to know her. She has since acted as my guide on several of my private trips around the Bolivian sector of the altiplano.
There always seems to be a sense of serendipity to what I do and I'm grateful for the introduction to Marisol by my friend Kathy, who is also responsible for setting up my South American tours via her tour company Andean Trails.
The region of Argentina I am visiting is called the Puna. From what I know of it so far, it will compliment what I've already photographed, but at the same time add an additional dimension to the collection of images, should the trip go well.
As with everything, you have to speculate to accumulate and I always see first visits to new landscapes as introductory ones. Often I find I need to go at least twice to a new location; once to find out what I want to photograph and get a handle on the logistics involved, and second time, to actually focus on the areas of interest. Besides, I prefer to visit a place many times, as that way I get to know its personality as well as get to understand the more subtle aspects of it.
Velvia transparencies on my light table. If you've never seen a transparency on a light table before, then you're missing something. It makes the review process much more engaging. I never felt as inspired whilst looking at RAW files on a computer screen. Illuminated transparencies are alive; they glow. It's like you've captured a pocket of light from a location and transported it back home.
I need projects, otherwise photography for me is just 'aimless pottering about'. I also need to complete them, otherwise I never get clearance to move onto new ones.
And they have given me so much. What I love about them the most, apart from the experiences involved in creating the work, is that the final results are often more surprising than I had originally envisaged. They are a constant reminder that I can steer my own direction, realise my dreams and handle much more than I often think I'm capable of.
Since becoming a full-time workshop leader in 2008, I feel I've experienced and gained so much more than I ever imaged I would. One aspect of this, has been my own development as a teacher. It's been a great experience for me to teach others - sometimes intense, often a lot of fun, very sociable and highly rewarding.
2nd edition - a complete rewrite
One of the biggest privileges of being a teacher is that it's not just your students that learn. You learn too.
I feel very privileged to regularly have the opportunity to get a better understanding of many of the core competencies of photography, simply by having to teach them. I now look at each workshop I do, not just as a place to teach others, but also as a space in which to strengthen my own understanding of what I do and why I do it.
It's been quite some journey and every now and then I like to look back and review things. See where I've been, how far I've come.
Way back in 2010, I published an e-book titled Simplifying Composition . It has been one of my most popular titles and I've used it as the basis of my workshops here in Scotland for many years.
This year I've been feeling that it's about time the e-Book was updated to reflect where I am now as a teacher. Because of this, I've gone back to scratch and rewritten it.
I'm pleased to tell you that the first draft of the new edition is now complete. Other work commitments aside, I hope to have the new edition released early in the new year.
A few days ago, I posted some of my thoughts on creating a style, of finding one's own voice.
Today I've been thinking that our choice of which medium we use for our art can have a dramatic impact on how effective we are in conveying our message.
I was a song writer from the age of 12 right up until I hit burn-out at the age of 33. If someone had asked during that period to define who I was, I would have said I was a musician.
But it's apparent to me in hindsight, that I was using the wrong medium for a long time.
I've discovered in the last fourteen years or so, that my creative voice is expressed better as a visual artist, or if you prefer a more defined term - as a photographer. If I could travel back in time and tell my musician-me that I was going to end up being a photographer and that my true voice would be expressed through pictures - I wouldn't have believed it. It just wouldn't have made sense to me one bit at that stage in my life.
The move to photography from music wasn't a premeditated one. I just followed my own feelings and intuition. I just found myself drawn more to the outdoors and to thinking visually. So I think if we ever do find a voice, it tends to happen because we follow our own inclinations and we don't think too much about it - we just do it.
I'm curious though, as to why I had fought off being a photographer for so long? When I look back, even when I was creating music and spending all my hours and days working on it, I had already formed a deep interest in photography. I owned many photography books and I also owned a few canon EOS cameras. I had just never consciously made the switch. Whether I needed to acknowledge it as a conscious decision is something I'm not so sure about - I just think that the creative arts require us to be fluid and open to whatever may come.
But we have to trust our own intuition. I often feel that I just follow what feels right - whether it's a decision to go and photograph a new country or location, or whether it's to choose one image over another to scan and work on in my studio. It's all just based on gut feeling.
So I think if we ever do find a voice, it's because we are listening to the changes that come from within. That's why I feel that we need to go it alone. It's also why I feel that pandering to others opinions or trends does nothing to aid us in finding out who we really are.
