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| Cauldron |
With a great deal of my work now taking over the walls at Cafe Kiss in Plymouth, it seemed like a great time to devote a post to my first framed print sold there over the last week at this wonderful establishment.
'Cauldron' was photographed back in April of 2013, during my major study of FD2 and part of my project, 'Immersion' at Plymouth College of Art. Surprisingly, this image did not feature amongst the sixteen finals that became the completed assignment and was left unedited for almost a year before I finally noticed it. I do find it strange though and wonder how it could be possible to miss such a striking image; as I have mentioned before, there is such a huge importance in revisiting old (RAW) files, as you never quite know what it was you may have missed. Perhaps it was simply a case of now being in a different state of mind, my perception vastly altered post-graduation. I certainly felt I had a superior understanding of editing, particularly following that Christmas Mac wipe and this was indeed having a major influence in what I saw now and what I produced during my weekly hard drive revisits.
This re-edit of 'Cauldron' is also different to those copies sold in the past. Highlights have now been reduced amongst the foreground and shadows slightly boosted, allowing for a much richer appearance of detail to the left. Sensor marks have been drastically cleaned up amongst the sky using a combination of the healing brush and clone tool. Seeing this image today and I am more proud of it than ever before; from its discovery and first edit, every sale thereafter, to now, with its most recent transaction at Cafe Kiss.
I do find works of art to be very much emotionally driven. Periods in our lives can often alter the creativity of an artist and what it is that they then produce. This is also no different for the buyer and I believe a re-edit shouldn't detract or alter previous or future values. Art will always be subjective and forever appraised by how we perceive or feel at any one given time. My recent re-edit of 'Cauldron' confirms how I feel and that is that I am in a happy place right now. While I might wish for nothing more than to be back under those snow capped mountains, camping alone under a beautifully lit starry sky, not a care or problem in the world, I know one day, because of so much hard work already invested and more to come, along with a continual love for my practise, my future will certainly take me back to where 'Cauldron was taken, at Lake Coruisk and the magical place that is the Isle of Skye.
While it has been some time since my last post, a great deal has happened during this time; some of which I am going to talk about below, the rest I will touch upon in a few weeks time. If you don't like long posts, or being somewhat inundated with a great many photos, I suppose you could call this a warning.
On the 18th of July, following a heavy amount of maintenance work before various checks were made and cleared, I left Sutton Harbour in Plymouth aboard the Emily Rose, a 22 foot Trawler skippered by Arthur Dewhirst and his crew of four for a week at sea. I had prepared myself as best I could through various online reading and Youtube videos, though when it finally came down to it, standing there on deck, I didn't really know what to expect with these next seven days. I was clearly out of my element, though considering my life since I picked up a camera, it wouldn't have been the first time I had felt like this. My nerves indefinitely fired and up as we roped off and headed out of the harbour, following her sister ship, the Emilia Jane southwest for the next 80 miles. If I wanted to go home, now was a little too late.
We continued on for many hours, enjoying a bbq feast for dinner; my first test as such, considering that these last three months or so I had begun substituting Quorn for meat. Rather than make a fuss I just got on with it and had a few hot dogs. There was no point fighting it really, and if I wanted to pursue this type of career, it was simply a case of making do with a situation and accepting what you had in front of you.
It wasn't long before the evening sun set behind a thick blanket of cloud. I spent most of the next few hours in the wheel house with Arthur, getting to know more about him and his crew, ship terminology, questions about this and that. I always find I have a good rapport with most; as a documentary photography you do have to show interest in your subjects and story, and build a immediate trust, essentially allowing you to disappear later into the shadows so when it comes to shooting, everything in front of you appears far more natural and less contrived.
I got some nap time around 2am and was rudely awakened a few hours later with a series of loud crashes and the boat tipping from side to side. Instinct told me something bad was happening. Despite clinging to my sleeping bag for a moment, I quickly found out what was causing the disruption; the dredges raising up from the seabed before slamming against the side of the trawler, signalling the first catch of the week. This went on nearly every two hours day and night, and it quickly made me aware of just how much work was involved for the crew onboard.
Night out at sea was a darkness you had to experience for yourself because describing it even now seems difficult to fathom. Being 40 miles from land, the constant swill and sounds of sea against the side of the boat, gulls following forever along side, there was such a real haunting feel to being out there on the deck. Plenty of thoughts ran through my head during the first few nights; as I began to accept where I was my head soon became clear.
In order to maintain a constant stream of continuous fishing, Arthur and Luke helmed the wheel house and plotted various course durations during alternative shift patterns, while Jay, Jason and Uldis worked though 8 hours on, four hours off in order to always allow two out of the three to be present for the dredges coming up and the Scallops to be collected. It was all about hard work and graft; they were in it to win it. Rest and reward was something that came only at the end of a week
By Day 3 I felt my latest project was already coming to an end, and far earlier than I could have ever have wanted or hoped. I felt bad. I felt really bad, throwing up a good five times over the side of the trawler over a period of just a few hours into the morning. I was in a right state and if I couldn't manage myself on what was considered a pretty easy going and calm sea, how was I ever going to handle rougher waves, particularly later in the year and during the winter season.
Thankfully the sea sickness subsided and never arose again. I'm not sure why it started in the first place but I was glad it was out of my system now and I got back on with my job of documenting what went on during the rest of the week.
By day 4 I had got into a pattern of sleeping between 2am and 8am and a few hours if needed during late afternoon. It was a slog at best and all I was doing essentially was taking photos. I couldn't imagine having to do the job set out for the crew. You could begin to see the toll set in on their faces, particularly just after they had woken up from only a few hours sleep, a yawn and a coffee and they were back to doing it all over again. I had nothing but respect for these guys. This project and venture was always intended to be an eye opener, and I got exactly that.
The photography continued and I began to find more interesting angles and moments of the crew at work. Arthur allowed me to get up on the bow of the ship, giving me a different point of view than I had so far. Using my 14-24mm lens, I was able to capture the whole scene and all its goings on; the more I used this lens, the more I realise that while it is so very striking in terms of landscape photography, it can also capture so much more when it comes to documentary. While my 50mm lens is beautiful for those more intimate moments, but to capture everything while still being close to your subjects, a wide angle is really what you need.
When Thursday evening came around, a message broke over the radio from the Coast Guard, claiming that a gale force 5 to 7 was incoming within the next few hours. You could already see the impact this was having waves as they slammed into the side of the trawler every few moments. It wasn't long before a second message from the Coast Guard sounded that the weather system had been upgraded to an 8. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous in the slightest.
During my initial thoughts for this project, I had hoped to experience all kinds of conditions out at sea, yet here I was during my first week, potentially about to experience exactly that. I certainly didn't feel ready and my first thought was, we're going back to the closest harbour, likely Newlyn and quickly, and with that I turned to Arthur and said, "I take it we're going back then". He looked at me almost quizzically and replied, "no, we're going fishing". It was one of those moments that would stay with me for a long time, summing up why I wanted to document these brave and hardworking souls. This was their lives and their livelihoods, and whatever occupational hazards came with the territory, they would face it with immense guster and vigor, and far more than I would ever have inside.
The radar during this storm was a barren sight, with no other trawlers were anywhere in the vicinity. While the majority, if not all had gone back, we rode the crashing waves. Considered how sick I was earlier in the week, I was surprised how well I faired and continued to fair throughout this storm.
By early morning, the decision was made and we began to head 80 miles or so back to Brixham. Saturday had been given a much better day, though Sunday was forecast to be even worse than Friday. The last 12 hours and our catch hadn't measured up to the rest of the trawl. It had been quite an adventure, though secretly, I was quite looking forward to a night in my own bed.
Since my return I have spent a great deal of time solely in Lightroom. With 'Tsavo' still etched very much in my mind and with this new project already garnering interest with an exhibition planned later in the year, my thoughts continue to hold a direction towards producing future work in black and white. Looking back over this year and what I have created, there does appear to be a sense of timelessness with each new image. Yet colours have been very striking since my many shoots down at Sutton Harbour (more on this soon), and with Brixham and Newlyn soon joining the fray, I continue to toy with the idea of how I want to represent this project; colour, black and white or perhaps a mix of both.
Creating Virtual Copies in Lightroom was something I hadn't done much of in the past and it felt like now was the right time to begin doing this with a means to go on. Rather than simply relying on the Snapshot function, being able to switch left to right and view an image in default colour to an edited black and white has infinity helped me decide on which way to take this project. Of course nothing is ever concrete and I still have a long way to go with many more shoots ahead of me, though I will admit that I am already leaning towards black and white again, if only as a way of exhibiting. I can also see myself producing a montage of sorts too, a little like that of my final major study at Plymouth College of Art with my 'i am Alive' project (I'll be covering this in a future blog post).
Knowing what I know now about what goes on during a week at sea onboard a trawler (and with hopefully no more throwing up sessions), I believe the results from my next endeavour will be even more interesting. With the fishing season beginning in September, along with the notion that 'winter is coming', I have a pretty good feeling about this project.
