I love it when someone decides to make their own photographic book. I’ve had a correspondence with Stephen Milner for many years now. He is an Englishman based in New Zealand, and he got in touch last year to tell me he was putting his first book together, and whether I would like to write a foreword for him, which I have done (it is reproduced below).
I can think of no better way to describe the book, than have Stephen discuss it here:
You can now buy the book here:
I wish Stephen all the very best with his project, and I encourage others to consider doing their own book. There is something extremely satisfying in putting your own book together.
Foreword: Adventures In Abstraction & Analogue Volcanoes
If I were to say the word ‘volcano’ to you, I am confident that you would instantly ‘see’ a cone shape in your mind’s eye. The shape of any volcano is instantly recognisable to all of us. They have one of the most iconic shapes of our world.
In Milner’s images, he has settled upon using this iconic shape to unify his imagery. He understands that using form in this way can strengthen the work. For when we break down any image at all, they are constructed of the same basic building blocks of form and tone. Regardless of what we think we see, all photographs are representations, made up of these parts.
Milner has also chosen to make these images by using film. In an ever-increasing age of convenience over any other consideration, this is a hard feat to maintain. Firstly, the photographer does not have any immediate feedback. There is no way to review what he just shot. There is no way to check that the compositions or exposures are right. His only tool at his disposal is his intuition. Trust in one’s own abilities, and the knack of visualising what one is capturing is key. Learning to ‘let go’ and ‘move on’ rather than fixate on looking for assurances is the nature of the game.
As a film photographer myself, I enjoy this process very much. Rather than thinking ‘volcano’, I am encouraged to think about whether the subject has a strong enough shape to act as a foundation for the composition. I am also encouraged to abstract the scene. Rather than thinking of ‘scenery’, I am left to think about how the shapes of all the subjects within the frame interact. I am forced to ask questions such as ‘do the constituent shapes build a pleasing story that sits comfortably when viewed as a whole?’ For great scenery does not guarantee a great photograph.
Make no mistake, there is, and must be a leap of faith in one’s own judgement when shooting film. One must commit and accept that there is no undo.
I bring up these points for one reason: all well executed work brings forth the illusion that it was effortless to produce. I know all too well that the work within this book took a lot of time, and a lot of love to create. Milner has been busy. What he brings forth to us, is a cohesive set of images that just seem to flow as if they were an effortless effort.
He has successfully abstracted the volcano. For we do not see the hard work. Instead we are left to wonder about the many adventures he surely had along the way.