I wish that I could look at my photos as if seeing them for the first time, as if, in fact, I hadn't taken them. Do either of you have any ideas as to how this might be achieved without brain damage of some sort?
Did I mention I have a phew photos (sic) on display here? Not sure they are worth a trip into town but, if you are in Soho, do pop in for a look. They were all taken at We Are Cuts during the opening nights of the various exhibitions they have had previously. Any feedback (apart from about the confusing labelling - I know, I know!), leave a comment or send an email.
Why this? Well, the lines. The clean colours. The perfect cut off flower and vase. The fact that it was a Happy Accident. The architectural style. The blues. The iconic building as you and I have never seen her before. The madness of it. The plant vs. hardness. The pink accent. The fact that it was from a job that I started on Friday that I was pleased to get and am a long way off finishing and need a break from. The recency effect. The fact that I've not posted anything like it before. The different shades of white / grey. The shape of the vase. The darkness of the vase. The unexpected. The pleasing shape. The fact that it holds together, a beautiful piece.
Why these? Bottom Picture: The fact that the hotel, who commissioned the pictures, won't in all likelihood use this image and I don't want it wasted on my hard drives somewhere. The subtle tonal shift (or is it my eyes?) on the wall. The simplicity. The life-affirming nature of it. The effort put into something so fleeting as a table arrangement. The burnt out whites. The green, pink and off white. The shape of the vase. The glasses - so clear, clean, pure. The napkins: though origami'ed, still worth looking at. Top picture: The classic look of it. The tonal range (i.e. a nice mix of colours). The fact that it is Generic Hotel and yet beautiful. I love gerberas in all their beautiful plasticity and in all their bred-crazy colours. The clean glass that could not be more Platonically Ideal in its representation of wine-glassishness (woah, pseuds corner, you're welcome!). The light. The perfect depth of field. The pink. The green. The ochres. The warm orangey bulb. The b…
Well, it was good while it lasted but sayonara BB, your time has.been and gone. It's the ads, you see. I don't want to look at car videos while I wait for the comments (always the best bit) to load. When you were good you were magnificent. Now, sad and commercial. Thanks for the fun you once gave though.
I read a lot of photography magazines. And I mean, a Lot. But, apart from The Photographer's i on the iPad, mostly the quality of the actual pictures therein fails to excite. However, one magazine that I would wholeheartedly recommend for photography, despite that not being its raisin d'être, is Intelligent Life, produced by The Economist. Not only is the writing consistently excellent, but the photography is streets ahead of anything else and is given space and due consideration. The current edition, for example, has a brilliant spread of pictures focussing on religion around the world, with pictures that genuinely bring one up short. The photographer, Fernando Moleres, is soomeone I'd not hitherto heard of but is clearly a name worth remembering.
Why this one? The joy in their faces; they feel like they are doing something forbidden. The dirty mark on Sam's forehead. Ellie's smile. The reflection of the trees. The guiltless feeling of childhood. The open top to the car. The reminder to play and have fun. The boy driving, the girl in the passenger seat (no, I didn't arrange that). Their size relative to the car surrounding them.
Why this? The lighting. The curve of the stairs. The memory of it. The fact it is nighttime and the camera can cope, though barely. The figure - their scale, their pose, their questioning of my taking the picture in the first place via their expression. The change in the seasons. The blue up top. The shadows of the branches. The darkness of the underside of the brances. Architecture. Bridges. The Thames.
Why this? The fog. The melancholic air. The ambiguity. The colours, or lack of them. The gradual shade from light to dark. The curve of the paths as they cross. The figures and their ambiguity. The trees, the houses, the distance and the perspective. The cold, the inclemency of the weather, the lack of acute meaning.
Why this? The beauty of eyes. The beauty of blue. The words. The fact of being able to read so much into so little - the humanity of it. The question, the fact of the Billboard Project in the USA where these images will all or have all apparently appeared. The hat. The fingers. The look down, the look up, the confrontation. The memory of where they were taken. The thought that they might inspire or provoke. The gaps between them. The ambiguity and the need to interpret. The never knowing.
Many of my recent pictures have taken on a somewhat somber, dark tone, perhaps reflective of the change in season. I shall try and make a bit more of an effort to bring some colour to your lives and mine over the coming weeks.