Outshining everything else

I went to see a Turner painting in Edinburgh (my home town) today. It is beautiful. No getting around that. But what struck me the most was that it outshone every other painting near it.

I was stuck by thinking how modern it must have looked at the time of its creation. I love when that happens: getting context is very important.

But even now, the Turner painting felt like it was from the future, or at the very least, contemporary. It was for me, more about the extreme brightness of tone, the subtlety of colour.

Why film is more detailed than digital capture?

An interesting analysis of film with an electron microscope. I enjoyed this very informative video. Very much worth a watch.

Lasting Imagery

Next year I will be 60. I am trying to reconcile where all the time has gone. I am starting to realise that my plan to ‘grow up’ at some point, may never actually happen (perhaps more to my delighted surprise than anything).

Each summer I like to take some time off from my workshop and tour schedule. I’ve been at home now for 3 months without needing to get on a plane or wake up at 5am. It’s good for me to do this each summer. Cut the travel right back, stay at home, and work on other things. Which is what I have done.

Print by Jerzy Jędrysiak, I picked up in my 20’s in Prague or Krakow, while travelling around Europe by train.

But while I have been spending a lot more time at home, I started to realise that my home has so many art pieces in it. On the photography front I have a Michael Kenna original, two John Blakemore originals of his kitchen Tulip studies, and also a lovely Charlie Cramer print that I bought directly from him.

It dawned on me that I have this print I bought in Krakow or Prague back in around 1994. Time and memory have made it difficult for me to remember which city. All I know is that it is one or the other - if you know the artists - I would love to know. I’ve had it in a very cheap frame since I bought it whilst inter-railing when I was 26.

What dawned on me was that in the last 32 years - I have never tired of it.

I still love it, just as much as the time I saw it hanging in a shop near the centre of either Prague or Krakow.

It took me a few weeks to realise that I should finally get around to getting a frame for it, that I think it deserves.

At the framers

I got a beautiful frame made for a watercolour I love of a mountain in Scotland - Suilven, by the Scottish painter John Bellany. It is a family airloom as John was my uncle. It is a much treasured painting and I got it beautifully framed several years ago. And so, I have opted to get my Krakow print framed the same way.

Here is the frame painting by my uncle John:

Suilven by John Bellany

Somehow, since taking my 32 year old print to the framers to get framed up in a more professional frame, I am feeling as if some kind of wrong has been rightened.

I think there is a mixture of emotions going on for me here. Firstly, I am lamenting being older. I wish I was 26 again. Secondly, I am now recognising that the art that I’ve lived with for 32 years has never tired on me. Third, I am realising that the print has history for me. Fourth: I have never fully respected how important it is to me. I’ve had it in the cheapest frame I could buy since my 20’s.

Little did I know back in 1994 I was buying a print that would accompany me through most of my life.

And yet, here it is.

Begging for a better frame. Because the one that it has lived in for 32 years was always an afterthought.

I’ve come to realise that this print is quite important to me. It’s been here for most of my adult life, and in a way, deserves to be presented to its full potential. Rather than being stuck in a cheap frame that I had always assumed ‘will do’.

And this whole episode has got me thinking.

At some point, we have to come clean about our relationship to the art we have around us.

It is either convenience fodder, or it has great meaning. There is no in-between. We either respect it for what it means to us. Or we don’t.

And I think something changed for me this week. I realised that this print was very important to me, and yet this was not reflected in how I was treating it. I needed to get it framed properly. Because a well framed image is able to show us its full potential. Anything less is really holding it back from us enjoying it to it’s full potential.

One way of making a commitment, a statement to the work being indispensable, is to get it framed professionally. Because once you do that, you acknowledge, in concrete terms, that the work is means more to you than you could possibly explain.

Postscript: the image is by Polish artist Jerzy Jędrysiak. I used Google Lens tonight to find out who the artist is. So I had bought this image in Krakow, not Prague.

The idea dictates everything

Is a pretty good mantra, for your creative decisions.

Rather than thinking there must be a specific way to do something, or that there are confines and rules to the creative process, the real issue is whether you have an idea to begin with.

No idea, then you will be stumbling around. That can be ok for a while. I will sometimes find I just need to ‘start’ with no idea and see if an idea will come.

But once you have an idea, then that should dictate everything that you do.

Black lacquerware, Japan

I’ve been looking back a little this week at my work over the last few years. I enjoyed very much coming back to this set of images that I made on my first trip to Hokkaido in the Autumn time. Perhaps they are the most thematically strong of all the images I’ve shot so far in Hokkaido during the Autumn time?

This portfolio uses black backgrounds to help unify all the images together (as you can see in the final portfolio set).

It was not my intention for this to happen, and I did not visualise this at the time I was here. But it became apparent during the selection and editing of the images that certain ones worked very well if I used the dark forest backgrounds as a canvas of sorts.

As you may know, I like to work ‘thematically’.

On a personal note, there is a lot of dark lacquerware bowls and furniture in Japan, and I think this was perhaps at the back of my mind when I worked on this set.

Industrial Beauty?

Can we find beauty in industrial places? Places we would ordinarily pass over, because we tend to relate to them as purely functional in purpose.

Often, I’ve thought, that there is no room in our minds, for beauty or art, with such places.

Zeeland, like many other parts of the Netherland’s coastal polders and dikes is reclaimed land. Over the centuries engineers have heavily fortified, straightened, and dammed sections of the Dutch coastline.

I doubt that beauty was ever in the hearts of the engineers that reclaimed this land. And yet, beauty is what I found here. In concrete, fibreglass and steel.

Who would have thought this landscape to be worthy of a photographic portfolio? Especially from someone who has spent most of his time photographing natural landscapes.

I would not have guessed that I would enjoy so much photographing a world built for function and purpose. A place that no one frequents. But I was intrigued that our world can have vast areas of land, dedicated to the design and function, of engineering structures that no one goes to, or lives in.

A landscape that is stark and austere of human ornamentation.

And yet, I still found much beauty. Beauty in the austerity of its technical design. In its Towers and blade, abrasive concrete, fibreglass and steel.

If you enjoy these videos, it would be great if you could help me not get killed by the YT algorithm, by ‘liking and subscribing’. Otherwise, YT buries my content and others don’t get to find out about it.

Hidden skills of a workshop / tour leader

Preamble - this has been written to offer an insight into what it takes to set up and run a tour or workshop smoothly. I suppose my aim with this, is to help assist anyone who is considering booking a tour or workshop with a photo leader. There are certain things worth thinking about, that should help you make a decision.

As a workshop leader, I often think my participants are oblivious to many aspects of a trip when they book or choose one.

To me, I would only be going with someone who has demonstrated that they have been there many times and know it well. It takes a lot of time to get to know a location, and to work out the logistics so things work very smoothly. For if the tour runs smoothly, then it can give the illusion that it was easy to set up.

That is one downside. If the tour or workshop leader does his job well, it can seem as if he’s doing nothing very much at all. Yet the truth is, throughout the day, all photo tour leaders are constantly re-calculating how the day will pan out as time spent in certain locations is shorter or longer than anticipated. This can only be done well if they know the place well, and have time and experience of being there with groups.

So I personally would prefer to go on a tour with someone who has been going to a place for many years. They most likely have built up a good knowledge of the landscape, and have the skill to offer something when plan A fails and plan B has failed as well.

In addition, the photographs they show you, should be an indication of what you’re going to shoot. If you like minimalism, then the workshop leaders work should show this. Choosing a photographer because you like their work and think it’s representative of what you will see and photograph is key.

So in essence : the workshop / tour leader should have an intimate knowledge of the place - experience of shooting there, and of knowing the logistics. If he doesn’t, then he should at least have a guide that knows the place well to help him run the tour. And of course, his images should give you an indication of what you’re going to see and shot. That includes style of photography and locations.

In terms of actually running a trip, I’ve learned that it takes a while to figure out how best to run a trip. The obvious one is knowing the landscape well, and knowing what places to take people. But the less obvious points are the logistics. Not every place is easily accessible. Hotels aren’t often in remote areas and the sunrise and sunset do not wait for anyone. Working out a daily schedule to make sure you are on location on time, get decent locations throughout each day, with sufficient time (there is never enough time, but I think around 1 to 2 hours per location is a good yardstick), while also getting sufficient rest, and fed can be a juggling act. It takes experience of the location to make a tour or workshop work very smoothly, and as I say, to work around problems or issues when they come up.

It is also one of the reasons I work with 3rd party tour operators in foreign countries. I essentially have a local with me on the trip, and they often know how to fix a problem when one is encountered, or who to contact if they don’t.

Building up relationships with the hotels, with the guides I use is also paramount. Learning to understand how they work, and respecting their experience and knowledge is key. This is why I like to keep working with the same guides and drivers when I can.

Too much of a good thing?

I’ve been photographing the isle of Harris since around 2007. So almost twenty years now, and I’ve never tired of it.

To me, it’s not really about subject matter - mountains or beaches whilst here. It’s about the quality of the light and how to play around with it in a more abstract manner. Rather than literal imagery, Harris invites you to work in a more abstract manner.

These images were made around two years ago. Over a two week period we had foggy conditions for the first week. The second week we had snow come in. Most unusual in Scotland now to get snow - except for higher elevations such as the top of mountains.

I’m always keen to see something new, or to experience a well known place in unusual conditions. This was not my regular Harris imagery and I would also say it’s not representative of what one would ordinarily see whilst there. I just enjoyed very much seeing the place in different conditions. And I discovered that sometimes, just sometimes, you have have too much fog, or too much snow :-)

Subject Studies

When I first found out about the Cono de Arita in Argentina, I knew I had to go there. The first image I saw of it was not remarkable - it had been made in the middle of the day and was front facing. It still looked unearthly, and was sufficiently different enough for me to know I had to visit the Puna de Atacama.

These images were made between 2015 and 2024. I don’t go back every year. The Puna trip is too niche to offer it every single year, so I have been back maybe around five times so far. Always enjoying visiting the region very much.

And often, coming home finding that out of all the subjects I photographed, the Cono de Arita always seems to dominate my editing and final portfolios.

To me, it’s a gravitating subject. Especially when I discovered that it was much more interesting to shoot it backlit. What now may appear to be a rather obvious way to shoot it, wasn’t the case before I made my silhouette photo that you see top right.

As I’ve returned, I seem to have developed the idea more, often focussing in on the Cono de Aritas shape. It is less subject and more ‘line and contrast’. Graphic shape, rather than volcano.

I will be returning to the Puna next year, so I’m wondering if I will shoot it differently, how the light will interact with it, and whether the images to come, will be a continuation of this theme?

I think it’s fine to have subjects that you gravitate towards, and keep returning to make new images of. We of course all know that a photo of a subject isn’t enough (don’t we?). We all know that landscape photography has so many variables to it - from composition, placement in the frame and the kind of light that one is working in. We could not repeat the shot exactly, even if we tried. So even if one feels that they have ‘already done it’, the truth is that we haven’t. There’s always another way the same subject can be interpreted, and that is what photography is all about.

Abstraction or Subject related? Which is it?

I've been coming to Iceland for a very very long time now, first visiting in 2004.

Around a decade ago I started to venture into the interior of the island with assistance from my guide and 4WD expert Haukur - @nature_explorer_iceland. He was the one who said to me  “Bruce, there is a part of the country that turns into black brush strokes on a white canvas”. As soon as he described it to me like that, I knew I had to go.

He was talking about the interior during the winter time. And we have ran adventure tours into the interior many times since 2016. Which is quite something because the roads can be two metres under the snow, and there is literally ‘nothing’ out there. No infrastructure, except for mountain cabins. Which we have stayed in. Very warm, cozy even, but no running water and you have to go out to collect snow in a pan to melt down.

When we have gone into the interior, it’s been really amazingly beautiful to see how minimal and empty it can get. The mountain cabins are also a nice environment for the group as we all ‘contribute’, help out, as no one wants to be ‘the guy who didn’t help out’ :-)

Anyway, these images were shot around 3 years ago now. There are several mountains in Iceland that I love, but perhaps none more than Þóristindur (Thoristindur).

I’m attracted to graphic elements more so in my imagery than actual ‘subjects’, but I guess this is maybe a graphic portfolio set, of a particular subject?