The more I think about it, the more I firmly believe emotion and the way someone is feeling at that particular moment governs the way we take and edit photographs.
In a previous post, I mentioned how the hard drive on my Macbook Pro fatally crashed during Christmas 2014, and that losing all my edited work resulted in having to go back through hundreds and hundreds of RAW files and re-edit, only his time with additional years of knowledge and experience I acquired through the latter stage of my degree and the subsequent months following graduation. What I don’t understand is why I suddenly began to edit my work in black and white.
I am not saying that this was a bad move; from the sudden change at the beginning of the year in how I was producing my images, I did get a further two exhibitions from a newly completed and highly praised project, work as a contributor for an online publication, as well as a few emails and new contacts that I will soon (and very excitedly) talk about.
I just found colour strange to look at. For a good while, tones and spectral range just seemed considerably off and whatever the issue was, I simply could not put my finger on it. It wasn't just in my images either. Everywhere I seemed to look, imagery just didn't seem quite up to the standard that I was aware of during my degree. It was as if I was now viewing imagery with production values firmly focused on saturation and vibrance through sliders turned up to 11 or lost within some convoluted mess of HDR exposures. I got immensely tiring of seeing so much of the same export, wherever I looked; beautiful scenes seemingly altered to the point of no return. Had photography become solely art over documentation?
Perhaps this is why I began to play around in black and white, and for a good few months thereafter, a newfound interest and control over what could be done with an image began to present itself. Shadows and blacks easily masked noticeable issues, while contrast could be ramped up in a way that if copy pasted in colour, the result would likely look entirely horrendous; perhaps this was how I was viewing things prior, though here in black and white, it seemed to only add further to the beauty of a piece. There was also this interesting element that when producing work in black and white, imagery became somewhat and immediately timeless, as if the only way to view history was via this format.
Tsavo was bought to life during those few months, along with many other images taken during my time at university. As I began to lay the ground work with regular visits to Sutton Harbour at the beginning of my trawler/life at sea project, and despite early attempts to edit in colour, I decided that long term I would continue to produce work in this way; the idea to exhibit solely in black and white while still retaining some form of commerciality in selling certain images in colour. It got to the point where I believed the only way to be a good photojournalist was to present your story in black and white.
Of course this is not and never will be the case, but try telling that to someone who is having difficulties in understanding the imperfections of colour; is this the point in which emotion comes storming in? For example:
Imagine there is a person you have cared about for a number of years. Perhaps something happens, nothing too serious but certainly a wake up call. Suddenly they don't appear quite who they were. You try and put your finger on it but the answer lies dormant. From this point forward you begin to look at them a little differently. Whatever the reason, you believe that this new look is for the better, despite your opposite now devoid of what it was that made them so special in the first place. For a while you forget about the before and concentrate on the now, until a series of reminders and new opportunities quickly reflect on that green grass other side notion and you wonder why you ever did alter the one thing you've always viewed, loved and produced.
While I am often known for going off on a tangent, hopefully you get my point. A few months ago I was approached by a San Francisco based company (I'll go into more detail about this in a later post, to coincide with their website launch). They were interested in my Tsavo series, though when they approached me, 'Tsavo' was still in black and white. Around the same time I found out I had been shortlisted in the Birds and Bees categories for the Zoological Society of London's Animal Photography Prize 2015, with my image of a Wake of Vultures. Despite 'Tsavo' being in black and white, I exported 'Carrion' (the title of the piece) in colour. I was over the moon with the news and while I didn't go on to win my category, the acknowledgement does look pretty nice on my LinkedIn as a strong end to my first year as a practising photographer.
With my Emily Rose project now in full swing, I submitted a previous blog post, 'Emily Rose - A Week @ Sea' to Fishing News. The editor of FN, Dave Linkie, soon replied back. He seemed very impressed with the series of black and white images from my first outing, though he did finish by asking if I had these in colour. I didn't.
Still, this and the last month or so did give me much to think about. I was adamant that I was going to continue exhibiting in black and white; at least I think I was, though perhaps this was becoming more of a case of stubbornness washing over me. I had pretty much settled on what prints I was going to showcase for my next exhibition (less than a week away as I write this), yet with multiple opportunities presenting themselves, I had a bit of a headache on my hands.
I began first with Tsavo, creating Virtual Copies of each RAW file and went from there. Was it simply a case that right now, I was feeling on top of the world? I still can't put my finger on it, which is why I do believe certain emotional factors do have such a huge impact on photography. Whatever the case maybe, by the end of the week, Tsavo had never looked better.
There were a few images I felt didn't work - Tsavo went from 51 images to 42 - but as a series, it certainly did look so much stronger. Colours were awe inspiring; oranges, blues and greens looked positively alive, just as they were when I was there during those magically four days. I could feel the change; bubbling and stirring inside, like getting home from a cold winter's day to thankfully sitting by a roasting fire, there was this beautiful warmth returning my work.
Emily Rose was next, and it gave me immense pleasure to not only reproduce my new project in this way, but to also create a series of new prints for my forthcoming exhibition at the National Marine Aquarium in Plymouth. I think Dave Linkie was pretty happy with the change too.
The feedback so far concerning my 'Emily Rose' has been fantastic, and I definitely believe reproducing the series in colour has had a lot to do with it. In less than a week, this series gets its first exhibition and I'm very sure this will not be just a one off. Around the same time, Fishing News will be including a series of prints, plus a write up by yours truly over three fantastic pages; a huge thanks to Dave Linkie and the team. 'Emily Rose' will soon be submitted to Viewfind, the San Francisco based company, and I hope their interest in me as a photographer continues. I suppose when I say I have quite a bit going on and much to tell you about over the next month, I think you'll agree. Plus round two of my 'Emily Rose' project is coming up, with a second week out to sea in early November. I really can't wait to get back out there, and this time on cold winter seas. No rest for the wicked.
