I shall miss my dear friend Trym Bergsmo

I just learned today that my dear friend Trym Bergsmo passed away last Saturday.

I first met Trym at the On Landscape Meeting of Minds conference around 2016. We shared a mutual friend in Lofoten. Trym was such a lovely guy to hang out with, always positive, always thinking of the better things in life, optimistic, and a really friendly sense of humour.

I have fond memories of visiting him in Norway at his country house, and both of us being so ill with the flu that we sat around discussing art, photography and all the other things in life that one has to encounter. In a way, it was possibly one of the best ways to get to know a new friend.

Since then, we often zoom called, and he was always keen to come to Scotland to do some photography.

I’m going to miss him terribly.

the ellipse of a dune

When considering composition, one has to wonder if the light shaded pink ellipse of the central small dune plays second fiddle to that of the black volcano?

Or, maybe it’s the other way around?

Perhaps the small central ellipse of pink dune is an intended easter egg - a subject that is noticed last, or at least is never first.

But even though the small ellipse has been composed to be an intended surprise, perhaps I had always meant it to be the main point of the picture?

Sometimes, it is the smaller details that are the reason for the photo. As in this case, I truly believe that my intention was to compose for the small ellipse. Even though the dark volcano on the lefthand side of the picture is more obviously dominant, I think it fulfils the role of a supporting actor, rather than the main one.

We all see differently, and interpret images differently. So this post is really more about considering how or why the image works, if it works at all for you.

The Limiting Factor is Me (Episode 4)

Nocturnal Labyrinth

The Labyrinth or ‘los colorados’ (the colours) is a fascinating part of the Puna landscape in Argentina. I have been promising myself that I should dedicate a week or so to this place alone. And I have made plans to do so several times. But it’s an extremely difficult place to photograph well.

The location does not suit soft light as it really requires shadows to help set out and define the contours of the terrain. When the sun goes down, I often feel that I’m waiting for the light to get better, but once it flattens down to an extremely soft light, the contrasts that are required to set the scene up just aren’t there any more.

From Dusk to Daylight

I’ve just completed work on some new images from the Puna de Atacama. I was a bit surprised to find that the final work has a more nocturnal feel to it. It isn’t what I had imagined (I gave up planning anything long ago).

I’ve been coming to the Puna de Atacama now for just a little under a decade. Not every year but maybe around six or seven times now. It has been a continuing relationship of reveal, wonder, and strengthening of approach.

Our time with a landscape is a relationship. Perhaps this is something that you have not considered, but that is what our time with a landscape is.  

Like all relationships, there is usually a lot of interest and growth at the beginning as things are new. Then as the relationship matures, a sense of established approach and recognition to what it is you’re doing with the place comes into play.

I think the reason why I settled on a more monochromatic feel this time, is probably twofold: having photographed the place so many times, I think I’m over the idea of trying to convey how colourful it is, and I think I would much rather focus on what I think its strengths are: namely that of form.

Secondly, there is just simply the case of ‘where I’m at’ in terms of being an artist. I think I’ve developed a style to my work over the past while that I am incorporating more and more to any place I visit. It’s as though I am looking for what fits my style, rather than photographing good compositions. There is a difference, and perhaps it is routed in a sense of better understanding and confidence as to what it is that I’m doing, and where I need to go with my art.

We all go through phases of trying different themes and styles. We hopefully evolve and mature. I think the longer I make photographs, the more I understand now that I tend to fluctuate.

I go with my moods and feelings more than with any plan. But there is a lot of precedence: of knowing certain things work, and of knowing what it is that I seem to work best with.

I give myself permission to be as fluid as I am. I cannot fight it, because if I did, I would simply get stuck. So, I have resigned myself to acknowledging that I am simply floating down a river of creativity and if I work with the river, then the passage is much easier. If I try to steer or navigate away through preconceptions about what I think the work should be, then the journey becomes more troublesome and harder.

Creativity is always about positive flow. Find your groove and you’re all set. Think too much or try to force the work to be something it doesn’t want to be, and you end up either stuck or in a difficult place.

I think I’m beyond looking for good photographs. I know what works and what doesn’t, but more importantly, I know what works for me, and I trust the inner confidence that I have gained (like all artists should, over many years of making art and finding out who they really are).

The White City (podcast episode 3)

3rd Episode in my podcast series is now live.

I like to let images surface gradually over a shoot. I think there is much to be gained by going with serendipity, rather than trying to plan things too much. See what life brings me, and where it may take me, has often resulted in work that I could not have imagined.

The Weather Disconnect

This past week I ran a workshop on the Isle of Eigg here in Scotland. We had a good variety of conditions to shoot in. My favourite part of the week was when we had very poor visibility (great!), very low light (even better!), and quite difficult to shoot in rain and wind (not so great, but part of the deal if you want to capture atmospheric light).

Image © Philippe Beekmans. This was shot on one of the 'worst' days we had during the week. Socked in with misty rain, I have often found my mood affected so deeply by the conditions that I have never ventured out. This morning turned out to be one of the more favourable ones for atmosphere and resulting work.

It was great to see the group embrace the conditions I took them out in :-) It can be an emotional hurdle to get over, if the weather affects one’s mood.

I think there is a disconnect between ‘how one feels’ while experiencing bad weather and how the images look. As a beginner I put the camera away during ‘bad weather’ and only took it out to shoot in ‘good’ weather. These days, I embrace all kinds of weather (there is no such thing as bad weather - just bad light).

Good light for me is soft, low contrast light. Bad light for me is hard, high contrast light. Weather is something I just have to push through in order to find soft light, which may happen on any kind of day, any kind of season.

Image © David Jarman. I remember David fighting to keep his lens dry to make this shot. It's quite difficult to make long exposures in wet weather, but a good chamois leather cloth is ideal at wiping away the rain drops during a two minute exposure as David did.

As a photographer, ‘bad weather days’ are just another dimension to our palette. If we shoot in different weather conditions, then we open ourselves up to coming home with a variety of images.

If we only shoot when it is dry, then our palette becomes rather limited, one dimensional even.

There are a few thing that stops us from widening our palette. First is perhaps our own comfort level when we are out shooting in ‘bad’ weather. The second one is our perception of bad weather. We tend to find low light levels, dark days and reduced colour affect our mood. It can be very difficult to motivate oneself to go outside if we are feeling low due to the weather.

One of my participants told me this week that he often feels quite miserable in bad weather. This is of course very common to find that the weather can affect how we feel when we are out shooting. I have often thought that there is a massive disconnect between what we perceive whilst on location and how we feel about the images we make. Rarely does one look at a scene of mist, atmospheric, frosty and think ‘I wouldn’t want to be out in that’. Instead we think ‘that looks really ethereal’. We think only of the aesthetic whilst reviewing images. But the ‘going out there to do it’ is an entirely different experience.

This is the hurdle we must get over.

Image © Philippe Beekmans

In a way, it is another level of abstraction we must work on: being able to visualise the potential of an image irrespective of how the weather is affecting our mood.

The first day I took the group out in this bad weather, I could almost sense the feeling that everyone was just wondering if it would be worth it, and as it turned out, it was.

These days I now find myself feeling quite inspired when I am in difficult weather situations. I often find myself thinking ‘I wonder what kind of images this will produce?’. The key is to dress appropriately for the weather. If you are warm enough and dry enough, then it’s much easier to focus on the job at hand.

We are there to capture different moods and textures with our camera. There is an emotional dance that happens each time I try to go outside. Some days the weather wins over me, and I do not go, other days I manage to conquer any depressed feelings that bad weather may be casting upon me. For when I do, I am putting myself in a position to capture something unusual and atmospheric.

Many thanks to: Philippe Beeckmans, Rostislav Gerasimov, Mary desJardins, Andy Coulter and David Jarmin for allowing me to publish a portfolio set of some of the images we worked on this past week on Eigg.

Working the location

Just a short post today about some of the beautiful images made on my recent Eigg workshop.

I’ve enjoyed coming here this past fifteen years because it’s a great learning environment: We are able to repeat locations each day because we only have two.

The weather, as well as changes in tide can transform a landscape, and I have never found this place to be limiting to what one can shoot. I also particularly enjoy the fact that the group get to ‘know’ the place, and go back to work on a particular part of the beach that they find interesting.

Rostislav Gerasimov, Israel

It would be easy to assume that over fifteen years of running a workshop here, that I would have seen everything by now, but this has never been the case.

Rosti’s image above proves this point to me, as does the other two images featured in this post today. Shot on the most northern beach on Eigg, I have often found that this particular beach is either a hit for the group or not. Some weeks I come here, the group either find they can’t see much here, or they wish to return every day because they are finding so much. This week’s group found the beach engaging and I saw different compositions here that I have not seen before.

Philippe Beekmans, Belgium

On the first morning we came down to the beach and it was one of those ‘rain hanging in air’ sort of days. Where there is a fine mist of rain on everything. Hard to stay dry and hard to keep the lens dry as well. But we got plenty of nice images. Philippe had said upon first arriving that he did not feel there was much here to photograph. I think this is a common problem for many: being able to get beyond what they see, or perhaps to overcome how the feel about being in bad weather. Rarely does one look at a photograph of bad weather later on and think ‘how horrible!’. Mostly we tend to enjoy the tones and atmospheres present. The image above is such a case. The quality of the light that morning - particularly at twilight gave off a ‘teal’ colour which I think very beautiful.

Andy Coulter, Northern Ireland

Andy’s photo of Laig bay is interesting. The shot made a few minutes earlier was nowhere near as interesting as this shot is - all because of a shallow tide that came in over the green and red rocks in the foreground. This brought on a less defined, low contrast foreground. It is a subtle minimalist study that I have not seen before on Eigg and which I enjoyed very much.

I think next year may be my last year, certainly doing the workshop twice a year. It is a very long day for me rising at 5am and not finished with the group until 9pm each day. I am now 15 years older, and I’m starting to notice it :-) But it is a wonderful place and if I were not running a workshop here, I would still come back on a personal level.

Last week’s group worked very hard to make good images. It was a joy to review and edit the work for them. Here is the final portfolio we completed by the end of the week. Please note that since I choose which images to edit, and also edit them, they perhaps have a feel of one photographer. It’s purely intentional as I try to show them through the week how to tune a set of images to be a portfolio.

For Everyone

I come here every year and the conditions vary enormously.  But the tree is more or less the same each time.

Painted Maple Tree © 2018.

I placed my camera on the ground, I managed to compress the horizon line to as thin a wedge as I could. I think the image worked because I had set up the camera for a ‘regular shot’, and just before I made the image, the snow subdued the background and simplified what is normally a view towards the mountains of the Mokoto pass. Instead, we have the small island / peninsula of Lake Kussharo, and slight pinkness of the sky because the snow was preventing the sunrise from bursting through.

It is now a well known landmark (nothing to do with me I assure you). It is right next to the road and lake side, easy access. I had no idea that for Japanese and Korean photographers, this lake is a mecca, as it is for anyone who is a keen Michael Kenna fan. So it has been well documented over many years. Anyway, painted maple tree is a beautiful tree, and we should all enjoy photographing her.

Scars on Land (Podcast Episode 2)

Difficult landscapes offer great potential. If we can only embrace their complexity.

The second episode of my podcast is now available to watch on YouTube in 4K, Apple’s podcast platform and Spotify as an audio only variant.