Found Photography

In May 2012, during the final term of my second year of the Foundation Degree at Plymouth College of Art, I began work on my very first personal project.  As anyone who knows anything about me, then you know I do not do these often, preferring to hide behind the camera than put myself out there for others to point at and dissect.  Yet what I had seemed to perfect not to pursue.  Neatly hidden away, having been unknown to me for so many years was a wonderful box of slides, featuring a series of negatives showcasing various family members; from my mum in her early years to when she first met my father, his time in the military, their first home together, the car they took on holiday, a little Jack Russell dog that passed away when I was only a baby, to many more incredible images of their beautiful lives together, along with dozens of photographs of other people I had no clue about.

While work continued on my final major project of the Foundation year, all students were given a choice of various topics to apply for that would essentially make up around eight weeks of this last term and labelled Complimentary Studies.  It was designed as a way of breaking up the general pattern and flow of your particular major and allow an individual to work on something entirely different for a limited time only; for instance, a fashion student may decide to take up an opportunity and study underwater photography for a few months.  Stubborn as I am, I preferred to continue my photographic journey of discovery and opted for Found Photography, considering I had only recently found this box of slides.  At the time it seemed like a very good idea, except much to my dismay after signing on to the module, I found out that Found Photography was more about defacing photographs and various imagery than actually finding photos; the purpose being to create interesting collages and unique ways in presenting an end result.  Well, you can imagine my reaction to the idea of cutting up these slides.  Not a blooming chance dear!

Thankfully the lecturer was quite accommodating to my concerns and I think she quickly realised that I had something special in front of me with this sentimental collection of family history and I was allowed to take my work along a different path; one less print-barbaric compared to the rest of the class, though I was still asked to present my final body of work in some kind of unique fashion.

Over the following weeks I quickly fell in love with my box of slides, yet I wondered how to go about creating and presenting a project out of my found photographs.  My early attempt seemed to follow a typical route in projecting the slides onto a wall and photographing the image thereafter.  Yet despite looking quite beautiful in large format, I didn't quite feel any sort of connection or closeness with the result.  Different textures and materials projected as a backdrop didn't seem to change my thoughts and feelings on the matter and whilst this module was more about fun and expressing oneself than something that would actually affect grades, I still wanted to do my level best and produce a project as fitting and important as the subject matter itself.  Late one evening, whilst holding up a slide to my bedroom ceiling light, I suddenly realised I had exactly what I wanted; my eyes had become the camera and the photo in front of me was picture perfect.

Moments later and I was holding a slide in one hand with my Nikon D60 in the other.  It was incredibly difficult at times achieving a crisp focus but after a few hours of work, I had nine images which quickly became the main body for this mini project.  I decided to represent each image with a caption as a way of narrative, though I admit looking back on this now, my choice of font was a little off.

At the time though, I truly loved what I had created and I felt this mini project was a huge success, not only in terms of the response I received from lecturers, but more so in how it made me feel inside.  There was a definite sense of cathartic pleasure resonating through my work; simply put, it was actually nice to hold my father close once again.  

Having lost such a prominent figure in my life at such a young age certainly didn't help the many years that soon followed, yet despite the negativity I contained for so long, as you get older, you realise time does heal and I try and imagine that there are positives in loss.  After all, I did get fifteen wonderful years with the greatest man I will ever know and it is him, along with the gift of photography that has shaped who I am today.  I suppose you could say this is all somewhat of a blessing, if not wrapped in the strangest of bitter disguise.

With my next venture out at sea being early January, December gave me an ideal chance to revisit this mini project.  During this festive season I have been laying the various groundwork and take the initial idea and develop this to a far great level, with additional years of photographic experience, along with superior equipment and a greater sense of purpose.  

In my next post, I will cover the changes made to the images above and how my final major study, 'i am Alive' shaped the eventual look of this new personal project of mine.  For now, I do hope you all have a lovely Christmas and a fantastic New Year and I will see you all very soon, with work from my new and revised project, 'They Live on in Light'.  

Poseidon by Graphique

I do find it strange how things tend to work out in the end.  Many times we can be faced with such a problem or dilemma that it almost seems futile and a complete an utter a waste of time and energy to continue forth; maybe it would be better just to take the fall and move onto the next trial and tribulation with a clearer mind.  Yet often, through some strange turn of events, things can and do work out for the better; the end result being something you could never have imagined at that one moment, particularly when those circumstances stop everything in their tracks.  If I ever need further proof or a gentle reminder that I'm on the right path with my photography and that there is a certain someone up there watching over me, I think this blog post goes a long way towards highlight this.

I was so excited when Norman at Kaya Gallery asked me if I wanted to exhibit at the National Marine Aquarium in Plymouth alongside a fantastic selection of Ocean City Artists this year, and it felt like such a great opportunity to test the water with my new project, particularly as 'Emily Rose' was still in the early stages of development.  The potential feedback that I hoped to receive could go a long way towards shaping the rest of my first major study post graduation.

Having taken onboard the many positives and negatives from the various exhibitions I have been involved with over this last year or so, I quickly decided to do away with the additional cost of framing and instead simply go with a series of prints pinned to a wall.  I didn't think any more about this till perhaps a month prior to the opening night, when during one of my bi-weekly chats with Norman I found out that I couldn't hang my work from the walls.  Panic set in immediately and that feeling of I can't wait to exhibit was quickly replaced with the notion that I couldn't and wouldn't be able to exhibit.  Before I made any kind of hasty decision though, I arranged to see Mark Du'chesne, the Front of House Operations manager at the National Marine Aquarium, in hope that we could find an accommodating workaround for both parties involved.

I met with Mark the following week and he took me around to view the exhibition space.  With much of the upper floor newly refurbished, I could understand why he didn't want anything hung from the walls with either nails and pins.  I suggested Command Strips, those used quite successfully during my Devonport Guildhall exhibition, though we agreed that the potential for paint being stripped during pack down was quite likely.  I wasn't sure what to do.  I honestly did think this was the end of a great opportunity to exhibit.  Yet before my head drop, I noticed along the middle of the walls and around the room was a lengthy PVC trunking wide enough to rest boards upon at a slight angle and we decided this would easily be the best route to take.  I had a good idea as to where to get a series of images produced to and from utter despair, there was definite relief replacing this emotion upon my face.  When I returned home, I called Graphique in St. Austell, the company that produced my final major project of my degree and crossed my fingers.

Within minutes of speaking to Robin Hubbard, everything was sorted and all I needed to do next was send across the images ready for print.  It seemed like only days later that everything was ready for pick up.  I couldn't wait to see the work Graphique had done.  Later in the evening I received an email asking if I could call them with regards to one of my prints.  My heart sank as my first thought was something had gone very wrong.  I had a habit during my degree of occasionally sending images to print, only to find I had supplied them with the wrong resolution or colour profile and my first thought was that I had done something similar here.  How wrong I was.

The following morning I spoke to Robin and he told me that the team was so impressed with Poseidon, my storm at sea image, that they wanted to produce a limited edition run of this print on high end aluminium.  My jaw literally hit the floor.  Not only did they want to take on the production duties of this print, it wasn't going to cost me a thing.  I could not believe the opportunity I had in front of me, particularly when weeks before I was almost about to pull out of the NMA exhibition.  Like I said, its funny how things work out.

In the past, I have had to take on all costs when it came to selling work and generally my profit margins were quite low.  Graphique were willing to take on everything from the materials and production time needed to create the piece, along with the marketing needs to display and sell this image.  In return I would receive a percentage of each sale, along with my very own framed prints; the icing on the cake was that I still retained full copyright over the image.

Poseidon by Graphique was produced on high end lacquered aluminium as a limited edition 60 image run and looked absolutely fantastic.  After getting home with my framed present, I took a snap on Instagram, yet looking at it compared to actually looking at it, this photo really doesn't do it any justice.  It is simply one of those striking images that you literally have to see in person; the way light catches the print as you side step slowly from left to right is simply exquisite, giving off an almost haunting and life-like 3D effect.  I have never been so utterly blown away by a piece of art and I can not believe that this is mine.  And not mine in the sense that I now own this print on the wall, I actually took this.  This is what I do.  The work done by Robin and the team at Graphique has shown that my photography continues to be a wonderfully fine mix of documentary and commerciality and gives me a good and positive indication that my Emily Rose series will be a huge success next year.

Poseidon by Graphique, on display in the living room

To accompany the print, I was asked to produce a write up that would be added to a plaque and presented with each copy.

Poseidon

by

Tony Fitzsimmons

Shot around 50 miles south south east off the coast of Land's End

and captured during an intense gale force 8 storm.

From the series, 'Emily Rose'

After five days at sea onboard the Brixham trawler, the 'Emily Rose', a message sounded across on the radio from the coast guard, warning of an incoming 5 to 7 gale force storm, projected to hit during the early hours of the following morning.  My initial thought was that my first week out at sea with the crew was coming to an end.  I turned to Arthur, the skipper of the vessel and asked if we were heading back to port.  He glanced back at me with an almost bemused look on his face.  "No, we're going fishing".

For the rest of the night I kept tabs on the radar as I watched various trawlers return back to the ports of Newlyn, Plymouth and Brixham, while we continued to remain out, riding the high waves against all odds.  Within hours the radar was completely devoid of any other vessel; the Emily Rose the only trawler still working the sea. 

By morning the gale was upgraded to an 8 and I was treated to some of the most powerful and incredible waves I had ever seen.

"The fisherman know that the sea is dangerous and the storm is terrible,

but they have never found these dangers sufficient reason for remaining ashore"

Vincent Van Gogh

While my 'Emily Rose' project is still in its early stages, it really has had such a stunning beginning and there are still a few exciting developments still to mention since my NMA exhibition.  I honestly can not wait to get back out to sea in early January and capture more of the crew and vessel, along with the ever changing and powerful landscape that is the sea.  For now, if I ever need a gentle reminder as to how far I've come since graduation, I just need to walk into the living room and let Poseidon completely wash over me.   

Poseidon