Gaming & Photography

Gaming has always been and always will be a huge part of my life.  From my early childhood days of Turrican and Spy Hunter on the Commodore 64 to David Braben's incredible Elite on the Amiga 500/1200, throughout the hard fought console wars that played out between Nintendo and Sega where you felt as if you were made to pick a side, watching many newcomers and their failed attempts to steal the limelight, only for a surprise attack in the chunky form of Microsoft's Xbox and Sony's Playstation to push Sonic and Mario aside with a powerhouse of titles and presence, to where I am now, a fortunate owner of a pretty sweet PC, with a Steam library full of epic goodness to boot.  I lived through the lot and this journey is by no means over.

While I love nothing more than the escapism of being sat at my desk, gaming/streaming the night away, I do miss the creative elements that were once presented to me in such a wonderful and groundbreaking way.  This week, whilst playing the glorious War Thunder with friends, I was reminded of exactly that. Seven years ago, my creativity juices flowed in a way I never knew possible, and it all began with Halo.

Halo 3 was not only an incredible game but one that offered the complete package.  Bungie, the company behind the franchise, not only gave the player a tool to build rich and diverse environments, but also a way to create stunning imagery. To those in the right hands, absolutely anything was possible.  While Forge (Halo 3's environment builder) was an intriguing prospect, I tended to prefer and in some ways excel at the latter, spending hours upon hours, wading through round after round of Halo battles in Theater Mode, looking for the perfect shot of myself, or anyone else for that matter, in the thrones of battle.

Things started simple enough; single screen grabs exported through Halo 3's Theater Mode and received moments later via Bungie.net, then touched up with what little amount of knowledge I had back then in Photoshop.  It didn't matter how good or bad I was at the editing side of things  I was completely in my element.  It wasn't too long before I saw myself embarking on an awesome journey of artistic discovery, all thanks to one of the most popular multiplayer games of all time.

I was constantly trying to push myself, experimenting with various techniques from tutorial after tutorial on Photoshop.  The moment I touched on the idea of panoramas, I was sold; a scene made up of multiple images instead of just one, essentially giving the viewer a much wider vision version of events, as well as a greater level of detail simply due a larger file size.  It took a huge amount of time and plenty of trash-can edits to fully understand how to build these monster sized images, but when it did finally start to click, I was creating what I considered a series of masterpieces back then.

Reflecting back on nearly seven years and I believe they still hold up pretty well.  I did a little retouching in Lightroom and Photoshop before posting them here and it was interesting to note just how much I have learned regarding these software packages.  Images sent via Bungie.net were 72dpi and seven years ago that was simply just another number.  Where clipping occurred in the graphical limbs of the Spartans, I had no clue how to alter, yet since I have now corrected these errors, using a variety of tools that have become second nature.  I do find it useful to go back over things, particularly after such a long time, and in particular, when it all meant so much to you back then.

I have always wished to be even slightly promising with a pencil or paintbrush, though that was never the case; unfortunately it seemed someone else got ahead of the line and was offered instead those creative abilities.  Thankfully, Photoshop quickly became my way of dealing with hand drawn stickmen and poorly mixed colours; the more images I created within the Halo universe, the more I felt that computer game art was indeed a form of art to be considered.  I was soon averaging around twenty single images per poster print and over time my Halo art became much more technical and illustrative, with images seemingly holding just a moments glimpse of a bigger picture and story; the more I created, the more closer I came to fleshing this out.

             

During the few weeks of the Halo Reach Beta, I ended up spending more time in Theater than I did actually playing the multiplayer.  It wasn't a case of testing for bugs or ground breaking issues or even commenting of the state and play of balance, in my eyes I already knew the game was perfect enough, I was simply involved to only craft more works of art.  With the graphics in Reach vastly improved, particularly when it came to the customisation of the Spartans and Elites, along with some spectacular environments, I knew after the short time spent within the prequel, I would find it very hard to return to 3; the release of this game could not come soon enough.

Halo Reach was released during the same month as I began my degree.  As much as I wanted to continue my epic artistic journey into the Halo universe, I had to prioritise my time accordingly.  While I did create a number of new works, for the life of me I can only find a few of them on my hard drives, which is a great shame as with Reach, I began to document my own character throughout some of the stories key moments.  If I ever do find these prints, I'll be sure to post them here.

Which leads me to my next project, or more to the point, side-project.  Whilst work indeed continues on the trawlers and the fishing industry with a huge update coming soon, I have decided to find as many games that have some kind of 'Theater Mode' and produce hopefully even better works of gaming art.  War Thunder has already sucked me in, with a few trial images below which has begun to form a starting point as such.  Using what I know now on Lightroom and Photoshop, I hope to convey a sense of found footage with these images; scratch marks, dust speckles, a vintage feel and colour (or lack of).  In time I will report back with what I have created but here is a few images to show what I have in mind.

Before I go, I thought I would add this final image.  During the time of Halo 3, I began experimenting with a variety of tools, hoping to substitute what I couldn't do with a paint brush with what I seemed to be able to do on a computer.  Mainly using the Liquify tool, I created my homage to Cortana.  Even today, despite leaving my love affair with Halo ending with Reach - with moving to the PC, I never did get to experience Halo 4 or likely will either with the forthcoming Halo 5 - I'm still kind of crazy mad for this wonderful A.I.  

Sunset Love

This image below represented a number of goals back when this was taken in 2010 and during my first term and year at Plymouth College of Art.  Not only was it the beginning of what I now consider to have been a long yet fruitful journey into the technicalities of editing, it was also my very first sale through Norman Holmes at Kaya, a gallery quaintly situated on the Barbican in Plymouth. 

Sunset Love

Sunset Love was created during a module to introduce myself and other first year students to the formal elements of photography, with one lecture in particular devoted to the idea of colour.  This photo was also purposely shot over-exposed as a post production test to show what can be achieved when using Adobe Bridge.  

Prior to my time at Plymouth College of Art, I had only ever shot in JPEG format, simply due to a lack of knowledge and awareness of NEF.  Instantly my mind was blown away during my first session using Bridge; honestly I could not believe the amount of control I now had at my disposal, along with the ability to essentially rescue an image, whether under or over exposed.  In such a short space of time, it was if I had been granted some special magical power (Bridgify!) and a whole new world of creativity was opened. 

A year later I moved from Adobe Bridge to Lightroom 3 and I never looked back. Ever since I was young I had always wished to have some ability to draw or paint, yet my skills to this day are still pretty shocking, unless you consider stickmen to be the pinnacle of artistic prowess.  Photography has allowed me to express myself in a way I never knew possible; the tools of this trade quickly become my canvas and paint brush and I am able to place my creative stamp on the many wonderful and daily visions that surround me.  Editing in my eyes goes hand in hand with photography and I will happily challenge anyone that says otherwise, though of course it does and should come down to a intelligent level of control. Moving sliders this way and that just because you can, doesn't necessarily mean that you should, and perhaps this is why I generally stay clear of the HDR brigade and other overly saturated works of art.  Each to their own I guess.

My only regret regarding this photo is that I no longer have the original NEF file, only the edited TIF remaining on multiple hard drives.  For the life of me I have no idea why this is the case, particularly since I still have the other images from the same shoot from all those years ago.  Like Pegasus, it is a photo that means a lot to me; my first sale with Norman, a giant step forward into the world of photography and post production, comprised and composed in a picturesque view of what I simply call home.

Brixham Trawler Race 2015

When I began networking my project via a series of skippers at Sutton Harbour, I never imagined that weeks later I would be taking part in a quite bizarre and utterly fantastic trawler race in Brixham.  On Saturday the 20th of June, what could have easily been just a usual weekend day here in the south west, quickly became something very special indeed.

Although I had been living in Plymouth for almost a decade now, I had no idea anything like this ever took place.  Yet trawler racing in Brixham was an annual event that bought about a huge public turn out and not just from those in the surrounding area.  Records dated back well before the 1950's, with many websites still keeping track and showcasing various records of trawlers and their crew that had taken part or won over the years.  

It was the first time in a long time that I was up at 5am on a Saturday morning, but in order to get from Plymouth to Brixham in time to board the Emily Jane, it was an unfortunate necessity.  A few buses and a train journey later and I arrived excitedly at the harbour.  I had been invited by Arthur, the skipper of the Emily Jane to come aboard and photograph the event after meeting him and his crew during one of my networking sessions at Sutton Harbour in Plymouth.  After discussing my initial plans of my project with him, I felt as if the Emily Jane would become a major part of my documentary.   

Arthur, skipper of the Emily Jane

Being in Brixham that morning, I quickly decided that I would expand further on what I had begun to document at Sutton Harbour and include this scenic and striking location, as well as Dartmouth in the near future.  It really didn't seem to matter where the trawler started out from, as many of these harbours seemed very much connected; the fact that I met Arthur and the crew of the Emily Jane, a Brixham trawler in Plymouth really said it all.  If this had not been the case, I don't believe I would have known about the trawler race in Brixham on Saturday.

As I stood upon the deck, I felt something immediately special about the Emily Jane and her crew, and in time I hoped to find out more about their lives and livelihoods, as well as the history of this trawler.  During July, I would be going out to sea with them for what could potentially be the first of many outings over the course of this year, perhaps even beyond depending on the project.  There were many stories to be told, I knew this, along with many journeys to be soon shared.  What did happen to a person after many days out to sea, and in particular, what would have to someone like me, who was not used to this way of life?  What did this crew really have to go through, their handwork and graft, just to put a fish supper in front of a family week in and week out?

The Jeremy Kyle Show.  Arthur won't leave the harbour until its finished.

One of the most surprising things of the day was just how packed the boats were. Families, friends, sixteen of the trawlers on show were a playground full of people, all out celebrating in such high spirits.  Colourful flags draped high across the decks as music belted out from many speakers upon many boats. Trawlers began setting off out to sea and just as we were leaving the docks, the dark overcast skies began to empty with rain.  I was gutted, though thankfully it was only a quick shower and I was back out on deck snapping away. 

The radar showing the trawlers leaving the harbour 

It was an incredible sight it is to see a dozen or so trawlers all grouped up together, horns bellowing in tandem with one another, all ready to kick off the yearly proceedings once again.  When these ships built up a bit of speed, they really did move.  I loved being on board and it was an unforgettable day; I know this time next year I'll be back again, and hopefully again on the Emily Jane.      

I found the whole event to be a perfect introduction to my project.  I learned so much, particularly in what it means to shoot amongst unfamiliar surroundings, being aware and understanding space, whether limited on deck or vast in terms of all that is around.  That day onboard the Emily Jane also revealed a great deal about myself as a photographer and how I will go about this project over these coming months.  I still have a lot of things to organise (a new camera bag being top of the list) and only a few weeks to get all this sorted before my first venture out to sea.  With my Devonport exhibition soon coming to a close and a whole new chapter on the high seas about to open, it does feel like the winds are beginning to change and I'm finally heading in the right direction after all.

My favourite shot of the day

Untitled Underway

After months of planning, my first photography project since graduation was finally underway.  You could be forgiven in thinking that Tsavo came first; technically it did in some regard, though the photos were taken during the beginning of my third year at Plymouth College of Art and it wasn't until the early 2015 that the majority of the series was edited.

I'll be the first to admit that beginning this project felt a little strange.  No assignment brief to peruse through in the photography hub, no grades to aim towards, no criteria to be met and no deadline to panic over; this was entirely on me, by me.  If I wanted, I could stop tomorrow, simply abandon the project, stick the TV on and watch some Jeremy Kyle.  Nothing was stopping me, though what would have been the point in all those years spent studying towards a degree? This was what I had been striving for in the end, to be taken seriously as a documentary photographer post degree; to produce something not only striking in terms of visual quality, but showcase a story and a series of lives and livelihoods that before this week, I knew very little about.

The first few days spent down at Sutton harbour garnered some rather interesting results.  During my second year of my degree, my major study was a look at Plymouth's fishing industry and immediately the images taken this week were far and away superior to anything over the course of that assignment.  Granted I had since switched from a Nikon D60 to a Nikon D700; the move from entry level to full frame was always going to be noticeable, yet my perception and composition had also come on in leaps and bounds over these last few years.  While it seemed obvious to simply take photos of the docked trawlers, I quickly found more interest in the fine details.  Intricate lines and shapes, the mesh of chains and rope, bright colours against worn textures, all nestled on a plethora of ripples and reflections.  

I knew this project would lead to a lot of eye catching imagery, yet I didn't think believe for a moment that this would be the case until I boarded a series of  trawlers and spent many days and weeks out at sea; documenting the brave souls who provided so much for their local community without really any acknowledgement or understanding as to what they actually do out there. This was one of the primary reasons as to why I wanted to take this project on.  My only association with the workers and goings on in and out of Sutton harbour was a visit to the local chip shop or fish market every so often. I didn't know or even pretended to know what went on out at sea; talking to others, this seemed to be the case also.  Some of the larger trawlers stayed out for the better part of a week and even beyond, it wasn't 9 to 5 by any means.  If you didn't get your catch or meet a quota, you didn't get paid.  It was as simple as that.

This was one of the many reasons why I wanted to take on and develop this project into a major body of work.  There were so many stories to be told, so many livelihoods to be discovered and admired thereafter.   How had the fishing industry changed in the last ten, twenty, thirty plus years?  The sea, the Gulf Stream, Global Warming; politicians, bureaucrats, those that seem to take the lead on informing the public about the goings on, yet potentially were in the same boat as the rest of us, waiting in a long line at the local chippy.  That was really their understanding and association with the fishing industry, because we all know how easy it is to read of a piece of paper and look like we know what we are talking about.  I wanted to inform others from actual first hand sources, and over the coming weeks and months this is exactly what I will be doing.  The reasons for me doing my Sea Survival certificate likely makes far more sense now.  I just hope I won't need to put the training in practise any time soon.
  

The fishermen 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 

Tsavo @ Devonport

Following a successful week in Manchester, Tsavo continued its eventful journey with a month long exhibition at Devonport Guildhall in Plymouth.  While I was immensely excited, nerves were out in total force as my fifth exhibition since graduation last year also became my first solo exhibition.  To say I felt completely out of my element, particularly during the week prior to setting up was an understatement entirely.   

  

Devonport Guildhall advert

When I was initially offered this opportunity, I met the chance with an emphatic yes.  I mean, who wouldn’t want to exhibit at such a wonderful venue; a Grade I listed building built back in the 1820's and considered one of the finest examples of Regency architecture, I'd be daft to say no.  Still, I didn’t consider the logistics at the time or what I might have to deal with when it came to setting up an exhibition on my own.  With any opportunity presented, especially at this point in my career, I suppose it is a case of thinking more about the immediate positives, i.e another exhibition to add to my cv, more exposure, and forget about any potential problems or issues that may appear later on.  As a photographer, I am only truly happy when behind the camera and while I do want to continue this road of projects and exhibitions, I am really not a curator by any stretch.  That said, exhibiting here at Devonport went a long way in making me believe that anything I put my mind to, is very possible to accomplish.

I am at the stage were I am still learning the in’s and out’s and various techniques of how to make a space combined with imagery visually appealing and interesting.  Working with others during previous exhibitions has been a great help, so being here at Devonport, setting up on my own was like no other experience in itself.  I was a complete wreck leading up to week and if I was to be honest, I didn't believe for a second that I would come out of this on top. The Guildhall, despite being a stunning looking place, was by far the most complicated of venues to exhibit from.  

Improvisation seemed to be the key as the majority of the space offered would not allow for the successful use of Command Strips as it was in Manchester.  The walls were very fine and chalky, meaning anything adhesive would immediately collect a powdery white and become entirely useless thereafter.  There was a railing however that did feed across the hall and using tackle wire from a local fishing shop and a series of hooks, kindly supplied by Graham at Armada Framing I managed to hang thirty plus images pretty darn professionally if I do say so myself.  

The bain of my first morning

My workstation for the next three days

Over the course of three mornings and one evening, Tsavo at Devonport really began to take shape.  I had gone from being an absolute mess to someone now with their head held very high.  I suppose it is the same with anything though; an obstacle in your path or something completely new or unknown to face and overcome, once you begin to challenge yourself, take the bull by its horns as they say, fear does tend to leave the room in favour of full on confidence.  

While the exhibition has only been open for a few days, the reaction from those who have attended has been quite literally fantastic.  As a photographer trying to make it in this world, there is no better feeling than having a couple praise your work before asking if it would be possible to purchase a large print for their photo-mad daughter.  Plus the postcards I ordered from Vistaprint were a great success too and certainly something I will continue doing when it comes to exhibiting my next project.

Talking of which, the day before I began setting up the exhibition at Devonport, I took part in a training day at Crownhill Fort in Plymouth, undertaking a course and qualification in Personal Survival Techniques (or Sea Survival as it is otherwise known).  With this now on my CV, I am ready and able to begin my new project.  Next week heralds my first shoot of many with this new and untitled (for now) series.  I really can’t wait to share with you the images and journey that will be my life for the next year and beyond.

#clue

Pegasus

Pegasus was taken just six months after I purchased my first DSLR back in March 2009 and shot from a wonderful warm and stormy midnight September shore in Cuba.  Pegasus also represented the moment when I realised not only did I want to become a photographer, that perhaps one day I potentially could. Fast forward one year later and I was beginning my degree at Plymouth College of Art.  My journey had begun.

Pegasus

Through most of my life, storms have often fascinated me (or scared me, though more so during my earlier years).  So much power and raw energy amongst a wide range of tonal dark clouds, that sudden flash of electric light accompanied moments later by a thunderous rubble, as if the sky was crying out in celebratory applause.  It is easy to forget just what this world is capable of producing at times; from my point of view, Pegasus is the perfect illustration of just this, having been noted often as one of those one in a million shots. I'm not going to argue.  Besides, what are the chances of ever capturing a cloud formation, shape or pattern similar to this in the skies again?  Next to nothing? 

Pegasus is certainly an image that tends to sum up me as a photographer.  
I might not be the most gifted or technically minded person behind the camera, yet I do seem to have something.  The very idea of being in the right place at the right time, with lady luck watching over with Cupid-like precision, there is definitely a case to be made for being blessed on a number of occasions. Whatever it is (or isn't), I have been gratefully riding this wave in abundance over the last half a decade.  Hopefully I am not being too greedy and my watchful guardian still has a little more to spare as I begin my new project later this week.