They Live on in Light

During the first few weeks of January I spent a great many evenings and nights continually photographing my family slides. It was actually one of the more harder photographic exercises I had involved myself within, simply to due the nature of how I was capturing these slides.  It may sound funny (and perhaps even slightly weak), but holding a camera in one hand at eye height towards a light, with the other holding a slide for hours on end really does take its toll on you; aches and pains as if I had spent countless sessions lifting weights at the gym, as well as Space Invader blotches plaguing my vision from constantly looking at the lamp.  It wasn't easy, put it that way.

Despite these issues, the results were immensely rewarding to begin with, yet there was a part of me that did feel somewhat disappointed.  I always thought that the image of my father (below) taken during my final year at Plymouth College of Art was simply perfect - the lighting, the silhouette of my hand, the crispness of the slide - yet recreating this same atheistic seemed almost impossible a few years on. Perhaps I was trying too hard with this project to replicate the result in the same way; when results didn't quite work out, rather than attempt to understand the problem, I pushed these alternate versions quickly aside and continued repeating the same process, making little or no progress evening after evening.

My father, taken during my final degree project, 'i am Alive'

After a few days of zero progress, I was almost ready to pack this project in.  I became increasingly annoyed with the end result; what I had in my head compared to what was looking back at me from my Mac screen was vastly different.  I took an evening off to clear my thoughts, completely forget about what I was doing or why I was doing this and hope that the following day I would have a better understanding of the direction for this project.  Knowing what I know now, this did seem to work a treat.

The problem I began to note with replication was this was simply down to human error, as opposed to something technical. We can not and will never have the ability of replication that a computer so easily seems to produce, despite the fact that we initially created the machine to begin with; tiny imperfections quickly become giant sized hinderances and no matter how much you strived to recreate, it will never be seen in the same way as it truly began.

With this in mind, I soon realised where I was going wrong and how to direct the project in the right direction.  Looking at the series of images produced so far, much of the problem lay with the idea of far too much empty or unnecessary space. I had already noted this in a previous post, my assumption of cropping the final image in a 1x1 ratio, an improvement would immediately be found. Yet with dozens of images lying side by side, each housed in a black background with a silhouetted hand, the contents with the slide became lost and the full emphasis of this project quickly disappeared.

I called Luke Broadway at Plymouth College of Art the following morning and kindly asked if I could borrow a Macro lens for a limited time and he thankfully obliged.  Using this lens, I was able to completely remove myself from the image and focus solely on the contents of the slide. I didn't need my hand to represent the idea that I was holding onto a memory of someone lost, the Macro, along with how the slide was photographed in front of the lamp affected the picture turned the end result into a true memory within the mind. The produced photos took on a more dream-like state as subtle differences in light and shadow created a wonderful vignette around the subject matter.  What had slowly become a chore over the week, soon became a joyous exercise in bringing the past to an artistic present.

I continued to use the same Instagram styled presets in Instagram I had used during 'i am Alive', while tweaking the exposure and temperature, along with dark and light elements to achieve a look I was ultimately happy with. I decided to capture a few images direct from the camera and showcase the huge difference following various post processing alterations. 
   

The images below represent just a small selection of this final body of work. We often forget just how beautiful our family really is, that our parents and their parents actually did live their own wonderful lives before we came into this world. I still have much to find out and understand about the people in these pictures, where they were and why and what they were doing or feeling at the time. This project has been an immensely cathartic and very rewarding and these photographs go a long way in continuing to connect the dots as to why I am here and who I really am.

I rarely produce work that is on a personal level, yet the way I have conducted myself throughout this project has been very encouraging to see. At some point during the year I will add 'They Live on in Light' to my website, though for the moment this is more for family and friends to embrace in their own time. 

Admittedly this blog post did take a little longer to produce than I had hoped, though I do have a pretty good excuse.  Round two onboard the Brixham trawler Emily Rose happened last week and it has only been just a few days since I have returned back to dry (with exception of the current crazy winds and lashing rain) land.  My next post will be a wonderful insight into the lives and labours of three fishermen during January's cold winter fishing season 30 miles off the south west coast of England. And for the record, I did throw up. Considerably.

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'.