Processing opinion needed

Update - I’ve just heard from someone who has been using the same lab as me, who is getting the same banding down the right-hand-side of the frame. I am satisfied that this is a lab processing issue. Since the lab in question has replied to both of us independently saying ‘we’ve never seen this before’, I feel there’s no point in pursuing this with them. I am therefore no longer wishing to work with this lab, and I think the best course of action for me to pursue is to do my own film processing. More on this on the coming months.

Since January, I’ve stopped sending film away to get processed, as most of it is coming back looking like the images below.

All my images pre-pandemic were 100% perfect. I just checked my last shoot which was in February 2020. All the images are absolutely perfect. I do not change film backs, often travelling with just the same film back on. The cameras have not been altered in any way since February 2020.

If you have solid experience of film colour development, and know for sure what this is, I’d love to hear from you.

I would grateful appreciate you do not email me if you just have a theory. That is all I’ve been getting feedback on for the past few months.

I’m looking for someone who has seen this and knows exactly what this is. If you do know, I’d love to hear from you.

Watching creativity happen

In this two minute clip, we see Paul McCartney give birth to the song ‘Get Back’. I think it’s a great lesson in creativity. Because for me, most folks are always looking for the ‘how to’ with Photography, whereas it’s not about ‘how to’, but more about ‘trusting your gut and going with the flow’.

In this video, we see the song ‘Get Back’ surface. I choose the word ‘surface’ carefully, because it’s clear from the very beginning that McCartney is just feeling his way through this. He puts no pressure on the song by trying to work out words at this stage. He finds the melody and the chord changes and knows the words will come later. It’s that level of confidence, or inner-knowing that ‘not knowing the entire puzzle, but it’s ok’ that is vitally important in creativity. All too often, I feel most amateurs who wish to improve their work, seek immediate answers, or wrongly assume that the professional knows what they are doing all the time. They don’t.

A professional creative person gives themselves licence to change things, and to consider nothing finished, and everything up for change. They also know they have to experiment, and try things out. Amateurs make the mistake of thinking that if they get something wrong, that this is bad. Everyone get’s things wrong, and even the Beatles had to ‘feel their way’ through their songs, often revisiting them until they got them right.

A great example of this is George Harrison writing ‘Something’. He was lost for a lyric that worked with ‘something in the way she moves….. ‘ and Lennon replied ‘ like cauliflower’. He hunted the right words for months until he found ‘like no other’. In hindsight it might seem obvious to you and I. But it wasn’t. He had to work at it. He had to feel his way through it.

So to me, creatives who are good at what they do, use their intuition. They trust how they ‘feel’ and trust when something doesn’t quite ‘gel’.

I loved watching how McCartney found his way through this song. He doesn’t know where it’s going, so he listens to it, and it tells him where it needs to go. I reckon all art is like that - it often tells us where it wants to go. We just have to listen to it.

When this works, you often hear song writers say ‘the song seemed to write itself’.

This goes for all forms of creativity. So listen to your gut, and trust your feelings on your work.

When we make photos, we disappear

I’ve thought for a while now, that making photographs is like a form of meditation. Because when I am busy making images, I seem to completely forget who I am, and all my daily pressures and worries completely disappear. In fact, I think when we’re busy doing something like making photos, we completely disappear.

In this fascinating interview with comedy writer John Lloyd (famous for Hitch Hikers guide to the Galaxy, Black Adder (one of the UK’s best comedies, and QI), John explains how having a breakdown in his 40’s, allowed him to gain some insight into what the purpose of life is.

He explains that when we are being as true to ourselves as we can, we completely disappear. Ego goes away, and any concept of ‘I’ disappears. When we do what we love, we become the most true to ourselves, and in doing so, find that being present, is about forgetting who we are.

Portfolio Development Class #2

Last year I ran an online portfolio development class. I enjoyed putting it together so much, that I figured I would try to offer one each summer, during my downtime from workshops.

So last year I recorded myself editing a set of images from Bolivia. This summer I am intending to record myself editing a different set of images: either Scotland or Norway, or perhaps Brazil…..

Just thought you might like some heads up. I think it will take me a few months to get the work recorded, and edited. So stay tuned.

Below is a refresher of what I offered last year. If you enjoyed this class, then I think another refresher, with different material this summer might be of interest to you.

Last year’s Portfolio Development on-line video Class

Portfolio Development video class 2021 (Bolivia)
£175.00
One time

Effort should appear Effortless

A few days ago I was asked to write a forward for a photographers book. It is something that I am learning requires a certain skill. The most important being that I need to take note of my first impressions of the work within the book.

With the actual book in question, the first thing I realised was how effortless the compositions appeared. I have thought now for a very long time, that anyone who is able to convey something and make it look effortless, has spent many hours behind the scenes working on it. A Gymnast at the Olympics can make their work look so easy that many of us may consider that we could almost do the same thing with practice. Or perhaps you’ve watched a musician play and thought´I´ll get a bass guitar like theirs, and I should be able to play like them´.

Easy things look easy, because underneath, they aren’t easy at all. It takes practice, effort, many hours, self-learning, constant self review, to make something look easy.

When we are able to pull off this feat, there tends to be one large issue: the skill and effort and artistry is often devalued. Anything that looks easy, is by definition ‘easy’, and therefore I think it tends to lose currency.

So this brings me to our own work. When we are editing or curating our work, anything that does not quite fit, does not appear correct, or seems to draw attention in some unwanted way - these are signs that we have not reached the point of conveying our work to look effortless. Our efforts should appear effortless to the viewers, but if they are able to detect any struggle in our work, then the illusion of competence and excellence suffers.

Take heed of what you feel isn’t quite right. Take heed of what you can’t quite fix. Take heed of anything you think ‘most folks won’t notice’, because the truth is: all these signs are telling you that the work is incomplete.

On my way to Lençóis Maranhenses, Brazil

Image courtesy of my friend and tour participant this May: Jure Jalič

i just finished up a trip in the Puna de Atacama, Argentina with a really nice group. Our tour had been postponed for 2 years, and it finally happened these past 10 days. It was great, and we saw some new things whilst in there. I hope to publish some new images from this area later this summer once my films are processed.

I am now in Sao Paulo, just waiting to board a flight to Sao Luis. This is for a private trip to Lençóis Maranhenses (this is not a tour or a workshop). I have around 2/3rds of a book ready on this beautiful place, but felt I needed to come back to work on some more images.

I really love South America. Such an amazing place.

(inset photo: myself and my friend, Antofalla, Puna de Atacama, Argentina this May). I’ve found most of the dogs I’ve met in South America to be great friends. I am a dog lover, wishing to be the proud custodian with one myself, but due to too much travel, it’s not possible. But I enjoy meeting and making friends with many dogs on my travels.

Waiting until the light has gone

Puna de Atacama, Argentina. Wednesday 28th of April 2022.

My guide Pancho took this photo of me in the Colorados region of the Puna de Atacama. Each time I have been here, I never quite know when to start shooting. While the light is on the actual mountains, their contours are more clearly defined. But I feel the images lack any particular atmosphere when they are made during daytime lighting, and so I often wait until they go into shadow.

My guide is always saying to me ‘the light has gone’, and I have seen many photographers in my travels pack up at this moment and go away. But this is often when the light may start to get better.

In this case, around 10 minutes after sunset, not only were the mountains in shadow, but the sky had darkened down also, and everything now appeared to be glowing. It is as if the light is coming from all around me during these times, but what has really happened is that my eye has adjusted to the shadowed landscape and the more muted sky.

After the sun has gone, everything starts to glow

Think if you will, of an aperture being opened up. My brain is now interpreting this shadow light as ‘daylight’, and so even though the EV value is much lower, it now appears more balanced and easier to look at.

The main reason for shooting once the sun has gone, is that the shadows are greatly reduced. The tonalities are much softer. One danger about this is that by comparison to the ‘daylight’ shot, you may be tempted to believe that there is no definition in the contours of the landscape. Not so! The contours are still present, but they are softer. More easy to work with when editing / printing.

This is one of the more alluring times to make photographs. But I would suggest that you make photographs from just before the sun starts to go down, until well after into the twilight time. Review the images later on with the view to studying the tonalities, contrasts and also to note that the entire duration from pre-sundown right through to twilight can produce good images. Just don’t stop once the landscape has gone into shadow, because you may be missing out on the beautiful light you see in the above photograph.

Ambient light is still falling on your subject after sundown

One last tip from me, is to shoot 180º to the sun. I always shoot with the sun behind me, or to the side. Rarely towards it (unless I am deliberately looking for silhouettes). The contrasts are extreme. Whereas shooting who the sun either behind or to the side of me, allows for light to fall onto the subject. It may appear as though this would not matter once the sun has gone down, but the truth is that there is still a lot of ambient light falling on your subject. There is always a flow of light particles still hitting your subject.

Even well after sundown, when everything is black, if the subject is facing where the sun was, your camera will still be able to record ambient light that is still falling onto your subject. Your camera will still see it, even if you aren’t able to.

Humahuaca's gorge

I’m in the Pumamarca region of Argentina right now. I went to visit the Humahuaca gorge last night. Mostly with a tourists view rather than to do any serious photography, as I had assumed that this region of coloured hills would only work with some intense light on them. We stayed until just shortly after sunset when we were ‘ejected’ from the location by a local guide. But the light was very beautiful, and the mountains started to ‘glow’ once the sun had completely gone.

I love how I look as though I’ve staged this shot: the background is a poster somewhere, and I’m standing in front with a fake camera. No? Well, that’s how it looks to me :-) ha ha ha :-)

I often feel many photographers make the mistake of leaving far too early. As soon as the light is no longer kissing the mountain peaks, and everything is in shadow, they depart. Yet I think this is just when things get going for me. My spot meter told me I had a 1 stop difference between the sky and earth. Perfect. I also know from doing this kind of shooting so many times now, that going home with super flat images like this allows me to play with the contrasts and bring out the areas of the image that are important.

We’re heading back tonight again to try again. We made an arrangement with the local community for a longer stay. I hope the light will be as special tonight as it was last night. What will be will be.

Los Colorados

I arrived back in Salta last night. It is very nice to be back here, for a number of reasons. The one that seems to be resonating with me loudly today is ‘because I was starting to think I would never be able to come back’.

My guide Pancho sent me a few photographs from my times with him. It appears that I have been going to the Puna since 2015. That is seven years!

It still feels very much to me like a recent discovery. My relationship with the Bolivian altiplano is much older, beginning in March 2009.

All I can say is that I’m so glad to be here. I’m so excited about being here, and I feel that the slumber I’ve been in, the depressive spell of uncertainty, and the general lack of interest that I’ve been suffering for two years (you too huh? If you are finding this resonates, you are not alone), is shaking off. It’s going.

If you’re worried about travelling, I understand. I had anxiety about it this past few weeks. I couldn’t help think that something would happen. Either I’d be omitted entry for some reason, or I’d get ill. Well I just feel that life is for living, and living means having to accept that there is risk in everything we do. Nothing ventured, then nothing is gained.

So tomorrow I will be back in Los Colorados. That is the red clay landscape you see in the photo above (my guide Pancho took this of me). I’m now hatching plans for other trips. I hope you are too.

A note about the photo above: This is an unusually difficult place to photograph. The red clay hills you see here are really much smaller than you might think. Maybe around 30 to 40 feet high. But they are quite difficult to walk up as the earth is a soft clay. You begin to slide as you try to get up the slopes. We found one ‘entry point’ where we were able to get up onto this ledge. The main issue for me with this landscape is that you need contrasts to show the contours, so shooting in soft light doesn’t work. It has to be hard light. Or sunset. And you can see that I’ve made this shot just as the landscape in the foreground has gone into shadow, and the sun is ‘kissing’ the background hills for a fleeting moment before they too, are cast into shadow. It’s fleeting, which means you can’t move around much. You have to choose a spot, and hope you got it right.

Returning to Argentina

A week today, I’ll be heading back out to northern Argentina. I am going a week early before my ‘photo tour’ begins, as I wish to spend some private time making some new photographs.

The last time I was here was in 2017. That is five years ago! The photographs you see above were made on my last visit to the Puna de Atacama.

There are several beautiful areas of the Puna, and all I can say is that the region is vast. The Altiplano of Bolivia is big, but the Puna is even larger, with longer travelling distances. I’ve decided to return a week early as I feel I haven’t really been able to make the kinds of photographs I would like to of the red clay area you see in the last three images above. The locals call this region ‘los Colorados’, and there is just a hint of the colour of these clay hills in the first image on the left: when the sun begins to set, the last rays seem to kiss the background hills causing contrasts and shadows of the foreground hills. It’s rather fleeting and what irked me most was that my guide made better images than I did on his iPhone, and a lot more of them as well !

My plan is to camp out near these red clay hills for a few days, so my guide and I have access to them for sunrise and sunset. It will be cold as the elevation is 3,600m.

I’m also looking forward to returning to the Cono de Arita with my photo group. It is a special small volcano which tends to offer up some very graphical contrasts during sunset.

I’ve got a few more projects lined up for this summer: some hiking to a special place in Iceland this summer. More on these projects later. In the meantime, I hope you are managing to shake off the Covid cloud of non-travel, and that you can venture forth, into the world. There is so much still to see and most of it hasn’t been photographed well yet. I wish you all the best,