It’s not about me

As 2018 approaches its close, it’s time for my annual post about a few of the folk who’ve inspired me this year.

Finn Hopson

A lot of you will already know Finn. He owns a gallery in Brighton and he’s also an amazing photographer and a jolly nice chap. He put on an exhibition of Sirens in September, which was very nice of him and I had a lot of fun hanging out in the gallery during that time.  I’ve long been a fan of Finn’s work – subtle, classy images of the South Downs, always perfectly composed.  His Landscape Editions book, Fieldwork, is probably the book in that series to which I most frequently return. If you haven’t been to his gallery yet, then I recommend trying to get there in 2019. You have to admire the generosity of a photographer who not only freely shares his locations but actually includes a map of them on the wall next to the relevant print.  If you do visit, just don’t buy the print with the frosty willow and bullrushes as I’ve got my eye on it!

Finn Hopson

Nick Page

The world of YouTube is still mostly undiscovered country for me and, although I resolve to do better, I failed to make enough time in 2018 for listening to podcasts so I hadn’t actually heard of Nick Page when he contacted me in the summer to see if he could interview me for his podcast.  A planned meet-up during my trip to Oregon had to be abandoned due to technical reasons so we ended up doing the interview over the phone later.  Since then, I’ve been following Nick’s work.  His enthusiasm is infectious – I’m sure he won’t mind me saying that he’s a little bit crazy, in a good way. Compared to British tastes, his landscapes may sometimes seem colourful but it certainly won’t do us any harm to appreciate that there’s a whole world out there that doesn’t necessarily share our aesthetic. I especially like the drama of Nick’s coastal work. I had a great time chatting to Nick about wave photography (he has some corkers!) and I’ve enjoyed discovering his work on Instagram.

Nick Page

Born to Ice, Paul Nicklen

2018 has not helped to cure me of my photo book habit.  I’ve bought so many, I can’t begin to list them all so I’ll just pick one. Paul Nicklen’s Born to Ice is a passionate hymn to the polar climes he loves so well. Every turn of the page yields images freighted with emotion.  Some made me gasp out loud and feel desperate to share. (Yesterday, I made my patient husband look at every single picture with me.) Photographs of amazing, intimate encounters with wildlife are interspersed with dizzying views of vast landscapes. Look carefully and you might well discover a tiny polar bear journeying across the breathtaking vista.  This is a book to cherish. It’s an investment, but it’s huge, and the print quality far exceeds the standard for photo books. Very highly recommended.

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Jenifer Bunnett

Last, but definitely not least, anyone who follows my photography will probably already know that I have a ‘photo-buddy’ called Jen.  This Autumn marked our 5-year anniversary of working together. On a practical level, we car pool with a shared trip to the coast most weeks and we visit Harris together every February.  We’ve exhibited together several times, we have twice shared an Open Studio event, and we started the Parhelion collective. But Jen also deserves a special thank you for putting up with me, my ‘progressive’ driving style, insatiable appetite for cake and silly sense of humour.  Jen, your grace and tolerance are legendary.  Jen is not only a patient companion, she’s also a cracking photographer. She’s had some well-deserved success recently and there’s more to come in 2019. I couldn’t be more delighted. If you don’t already know Jen’s work, have a look at her website.

Jen

I hope everyone has a very enjoyable New Year celebration and that 2019 will be a year of changeable weather and interesting light.

Not another retrospective

My title’s slightly cheeky as I actually enjoy the flurry of retrospectives from photographers at this time of year; it gives me a chance to catch up on photographs I may have missed or simply to enjoy again old favourites. But, after having had to do a lot of self-promotion this Autumn, I expect folk are a bit bored of me (I am bored of myself!) so, like last year, I thought that I’d mention instead a few of the folk who’ve inspired me this year.

Simon Baxter (and Meg)

I don’t have time to watch a lot of You Tube vlogs but I make an exception for Simon’s. His photography is superb; I have nothing but respect for a photographer who can make compelling compositions out of tangled woodland and Simon makes it look easy. I also like the way he presents his shows; they are quiet, understated and uplifting. If that’s not enough to persuade you, Meg the dog is an absolute superstar. If you haven’t watched any of Simon’s vlogs, a good place to start would be this episode.

Simon

Colin Bell, ‘Healing’

As mentioned last time, I like to buy photobooks and this year has not helped me kick the habit! I have bought so many I have literally lost count. I can’t list them all here so I’m just going to mention one. Colin’s book is a tour de force. His photographs are simple, evocative, emotional. The poetry of Dom Conlon, written for the book, compliments the images beautifully. The presentation reflects the incredible care and attention Colin lavished on this project from beginning to end. It’s a book that rewards repeated visits and I am very glad to own a copy.

colin bell

The Togcast

The Togcast is a series of fortnightly, free podcasts about landscape and travel photography, created by Sam Gregory and Paul Sanders. Sam and Paul are very nice chaps and they do a great job. Most episodes feature an interview with a well-known photographer but Sam and Paul have cleverly managed to direct and adapt each interview to give variety. There is never a sense of there being a standard list of questions and I think that must mean there’s a lot of hard work going on behind the scenes. I like to download episodes so that I can listen to them in the car.

togcast

Fleeting Reflections

As usual, I went to a lot of superb exhibitions this year, including Valda Bailey’s beautiful Fragile at The Bosham Gallery and the powerful Wildlife Photographer of the Year exhibition, still on at the Natural History Museum. In September, I headed up to Greenwich for Mike Curry’s Fleeting Reflections. Mike’s work is very strong and his book shows it off beautifully but it was even better to see large prints of the series on the simple, white walls of the Greenwich Gallery. I was also mesmerised by the video Mike had on a loop – I could have watched it for hours. It was very good to meet Mike there and to hear some behind the scenes stories.

mike curry

The ‘Ninja’ Togs

Landscape photography can be quite a solitary occupation. Mostly, I’m happy with that, but it is also nice to connect with others who share this enthusiasm. In September, I enjoyed a long weekend in Anglesey with a group of landscape photographers. We took a lot of photos, laughed a great deal (nobody mention the chilli!) and, I think it’s fair to say, we also inspired each other. I’m not sure I brought home any ‘keepers’ but it was one of the highlights of my year. Verity Milligan, Helen Isles, Claire Zaffin, Sarah Medway, Lorraine Heaysman, Jenifer Bunnett, you’re all awesome. Thank you so much! I’m looking forward to the next weekend.

Newborough I

No pictures please, this is Iceland

I spent 4 weeks of the last year in Iceland. I love it there. That’s hardly surprising for a photographer who shoots the coast – Iceland’s coast is … well … no superlative is adequate. But it’s so very much photographed. And there lies a potential problem. I find it hard to dim in my mind’s eye the beautiful images of others. Chips of ice on black sand – done, and done, and done. Mini icebergs floating in still water on the edge of a glacier… also done. Aerial views of colourful deltas that look like the most beautiful abstract art – so very done. Moody, misty receding mountains – well, you can guess what comes next. So, it’s not surprising that relatively few images from my trips to Iceland, so far, have made it to my website. Still, I’ll go back, probably more than once, even if I bring home no keepers at all, and here’s why.

In September, I spent a week in the WestFjords area. It’s relatively quiet, compared with the south coast, and we rarely encountered other photographers. But it’s also a frustrating place because, while the coast is stunning, and there’s lots of it with all those inlets, it’s hard to find anywhere to pull over. Time and time again we drove through the most incredible scenery without being able to stop. There was this one drive, however, along the shore towards Patreksfjord, that has stayed with me.  It was pouring with rain and there was nowhere to pull over on our sliver of road, sandwiched between mountain and ocean. But I was listening to some great tunes and looking out of the window at mountains soaring straight from the sea, shore grass billowing in the wind and foam-topped waves silvering the curves of the strand. It was an ineffably wild place, so very different from anywhere closer to home. Uncompromising and uncompromised. Then, as we swung round a corner, something magical happened; a hawk shot out of nowhere, no doubt surprised by our van, and sailed above us before melting into the mist. An ordinary enough thing, I suppose, but that moment has lodged itself in my mind’s eye.  When we got to our motel and my companions sensibly had a rest before dinner, I walked along the shore for an hour in the pouring rain. I had to – I didn’t want the magic to end. I made no photographs at that place, not one. But it has informed every picture I’ve made since, in Iceland or closer to home.

So this is why I travel. I often say that the secret to making strong images lies in shooting close to home, in going to places to which we can return, again and again. We relax in the knowledge that we’ll be back and this means we’re not afraid to spend time taking risks, trying new compositions that might not work at all. We can move on from the obvious and seek difference, the things that mean something to us as individuals. That’s what art should communicate, in my opinion. But that doesn’t mean I dismiss the value of travel. Far from it. I will continue to travel, even if my hit rate of images is lower than when I’m at home. I will continue to do it, with enthusiasm, as often as I can afford. For moments like this.

Time spent developing our own connection with the landscape, on nurturing that spark inside us that makes us want to make beautiful photographs, is just as valuable as time spent actually making them. I think it’s fair to say that most landscape photographers do it because they love the landscape; there’s not enough money in it these days to make it a pragmatic career choice. Time spent feeding that love is time well spent. Put most simply, that fleeting encounter with a wild thing on a dismal day in Iceland made me happy.

Worth it.

fairy falls

Not a picture from the journey in this blog, because I didn’t make one (that’s the point), but Iceland nonetheless.

Not a retrospective

It has become customary for photographers to do a year-end retrospective of their images and plaudits but I thought I might try something different. I’d like, instead, to introduce other photographers and artists whose work I have enjoyed this year and who have inspired me. I am a voracious consumer of visual art as I think it profoundly influences and improves my own work as well as being a very nice way to spend time. In no particular order, here are a few of my favourites from 2016.

Brian Kosoff

I was first introduced to this photographer’s portfolio at the end of last year and I’ve been back many times since. I am a fan of the cinematic crop and I think his beautifully composed black and white images are powerfully resonant.

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Valda Bailey

I bought a copy of Valda’s book, Fragile, earlier this year and it’s fast become one of my favourites. Her style couldn’t be more different from my own but I really enjoy the gentle, ethereal nature of the images she has collected in this book.

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Kozu Books

I have a bit of a photo book habit. I don’t try to control it. This year I’ve been indulging in a collection of small-but-beautifully-formed books from Kozu Books called Landscape Editions. It began with a beautiful book featuring the work of long-time-favourite, David Baker and, since then, I’ve bought every one. Last week, the latest three dropped onto my doormat, two lovely collections of forest imagery by Lee Acaster and Damian Ward and an arrestingly fine collection of black and white images by Matt Botwood. I like it that each book comes with a print that I can add to the inspiration wall in my studio.

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Susan Burnstine

More black and white, but it’s so good! Burnstine’s moody, grungy, square photographs of New York almost seem to vibrate with quiet power. Just me, perhaps, but do have a look – worth it.

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Jonathan Chritchley

I have benefitted enormously from Jonathan’s advice this year. He’s probably best known in the UK for his photography holidays, which are some of the most well-organised around. An inveterate globe-trotter and a Fellow of the Royal Geographical Society, Jonathan is an accomplished fine art photographer. If you like well-crafted, black and white, mostly-square photographs, click through to his website – you won’t be sorry.

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Maggi Hambling

I was introduced to Hambling’s sea-paintings this Autumn during a trip to Suffolk and bought a copy of her book, The Sea (there’s that book habit again). Abstract and strangely unsettling at times, her paintings have inspired me to continue developing my wave photography. I’m not going to say any more about that, for now…

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Outdoor Photography magazine

My favourite photography magazine and the only one to which I subscribe. It’s a nice mix of imagery, news, technical and artistic information and thought-provoking opinions.

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That’s it. There are lots more I could mention but then this blog would be too long and no-one would read it! In the meantime, if you wanted to add in the comments below a photographer, publication or something else that has inspired you this year, I’d be delighted.

Where land meets sea

The last few weeks have been hard and blogging has been far from my mind. But I wanted to share this slideshow, which I made for a talk I gave in the summer at the Shed Gallery’s ‘Muse’ exhibition in Lyme Regis. It features a few of my own pictures, but mostly inspirational images by other photographers that I selected from the Gallery, on the theme of my talk, coastal photography. Being a very proud Mummy, I must add that my favourite thing about it is the music, an original score composed and recorded for the talk by my very talented daughter, Maggie Talibart. Not too shabby for thirteen!

Yellow field before the storm

cottage and rapeseed field, Alfriston, East Sussex

Many of my images are inspired by paintings. I think the same basic compositions work in both mediums.  In this image I was inspired by the watercolours of Michael Morgan RI, an artist whose work I greatly enjoy.  I was recently lucky enough to acquire two of his originals which, together with one of his limited edition prints now provide permanent inspiration on my walls.

Which artists inspire you?  Feel free to post examples of your work below.  I find the crossover between genres interesting and would love to see what influences my fellow photographers!

La Belle et la Bête

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I thought that this tree tunnel at Pagham Harbour in West Sussex had a slightly fairy tale feel. When I edited the shot I was inspired by Jean Cocteau’s iconic film, La Belle et la Bête (1946). I wanted to create a black and white that captured something of the aesthetic of the film. It was just an experiment but fun to do.

Have you ever taken or edited a photo inspired by a favourite movie?