A Personal Project – Shaftesbury, Dorset

Learning photography while living in the sticks has been a bit of a challenge. I’ve listened to the advice telling me to shoot whatever is around me and, as I travel to Shaftesbury at least a couple of times a week, a significant chunk of my archive is made up of pictures of this Saxon hilltop town. I always try to travel with purpose, remaining observant and have noticed that maintaining a heightened level of awareness of my situation, the composition, lighting, and camera settings while being in the moment might be relaxing at some point. 

Why Taking Photographs Matters to Me

So, while I’m kept busy learning the “how” of photography. You know, taking pictures, making mistakes, I’ve also spent some time and money learning about WordPress, web hosting and plugins as well as various other ways of spending money.

That led me to ask if I was getting a good return for the investment of my time and money, to which the answer, after two years, two hosting companies and a pretty decent attempt at self-hosting, is a resounding “no”.

My intention with photography has always been to generate some form of income from it and there are various organisational frameworks I’m using to explore potential revenue streams of which this site is a part. Underlying this though, is a deeper question, apart from the obvious financial answer, why am I doing this? This prompted some thinking and I’m still working it out. Luckily, I found a podcast that asks this question, at the United Nations of Photography 

Thinking on this, I realise that the answer differs slightly, depending on the intention of the shoot. When I am working for you, I translate what you want into a frozen moment that best represents what you wish to convey to your clients, potential and actual. On a personal project, the experience is not filtered, I attempt to convey the feelings that I am experiencing, having chosen to be in that place, at that time, with those people, even if they are unaware of my proximity and view. This is a projection of my personal experience of ageing as I progress in the latter half of my life.

Inspiration comes from the photographic work of Robert Frank, Robert Adams, Setefano Perego, Iñigo Bujedo Aguirre, Roberto Conte, Arseniy Kotov, Austin Granger, Christopher Herwig, and many others.

Lockdown Ghosts

As the UK comes out of what’s felt like a period of hibernation, I’ve been on a couple of trips. The first was to London for architectural purposes and while on this, I became aware that I felt like I was still in a bubble. There were (some) people around me, but I felt disconnected and a bit alone. Those who know me, know this isn’t an unusual state for me to be in but this was different. It’s almost like those around me were all acting out what they *should* be doing, going through the motions as if they weren’t really there. So, the idea of ghosts came to mind.

The place I visit most regularly is Bath, in the South West UK. It’s a popular tourist destination, and I’ve had the good fortune to live there for a good chunk of my life. I had to visit the centre to pick something up and had decided that taking the camera with me to get some pictures with a new ND filter was a good idea. Could I capture the feeling? I think I might have.

Lockdown Ghosts

London (so far)

It’s going to take me quite a while to get around everywhere I need to go in London. What I have so far was taken while on a march in March ’19. Five pictures were taken on the route itself while the rest were taken at the South Bank, of the National Theatre and surrounding buildings. This was my first go with the Canon 6D and EF24-105mm f/4 L lens combo.

I’m compiling a map of sites to visit, 37 sites so far, some of them are clustered nicely (thank you Thamesmead) but most involve some travel.

The Linnahall

Gutted I couldn’t get in although when I visited, there was someone there. The exterior hides a remarkable interior, the photo essay at https://failedarchitecture.com/photo-essay-how-long-is-the-life-of-a-building-tallinns-linnahall/ shows it off well.

Concrete, bricks and steps lead to multiple pedestrianised spaces of the Linnahall while allowing access for service vehicles