Be Brave

Considering the size of our planet (510,072,000 km² at last count) it's pretty strange that we, as photographers, cram ourselves into such small areas. Across the globe there are honeypot locations that seem to have an irresistible pull on us. Perhaps these areas exhibit extremely high magnetic attraction pulling us and our metal and electronics to them!

Or perhaps some of us (myself very much included!) are just lacking the inspiration or - more likely - the willpower to break free of this invisible force. We get drawn to the same spots over and over hoping the conditions are that much better than the last time we were there.

I have been musing on such 'honeypotting' for some time now. Why do I feel the need to drive an hour or more on a regular basis to visit a location already visited by thousands? Why can't I just take a walk from my back door? What do I hope to achieve that others haven't already and more successfully?

I'm not sure I have the answer. These questions play on my mind often, and I'll share my perhaps paradoxical thoughts here.

We're Pressed For Time

Time is our most precious gift. When it comes to photography most of us get out a lot less often than we'd like and often in conditions that aren't our ideal. I swear I see the most interesting conditions on the train to/from work! And so we value our time out with the camera, it's precious to us and we want the best results.

Given the choice of potentially 'wasting' that time out - wrong place, wrong time - and finding we don't make any photographs we're happy with, or heading to a well known spot with plentiful compositions and the chance of good light, well, it's not surprising most of us choose the latter. We fear we'll wander the countryside aimlessly, desperate to find something while everyone else is at the best spots with the best light. Why oh why did I not just go there? Doubt, second guessing, disappointment.

Going to these honeypot locations is as close to a guarantee as you get in photography. We've seen the location in books and on Flickr, we know great images are possible here. The variables are reduced, it becomes a matter of getting good light and executing the technical practices well. Our responsibility and set of concerns is smaller.

To be honest I don't think any of us should feel bad for that. For probably the vast majority of photographers going out and making a "good" picture is the only goal. Maybe going to such locations is the best way of doing that with the time we have.

It's Big

The world is just so big. It's overwhelming. If everything is a possibility then how do you choose the right thing?

Constraints are a good thing, it narrows options. I think this plays a role in location selection. If we're going to filter the entire world down to somewhere to take pictures on a Saturday morning then I think it's fairly natural to see what's worked and use that as guidance.

We're not the first photographers, or artists or even people to walk the land. "We stand on the shoulders of giants" and if over our existence we've filtered it down to good places and not so good places, why should we repeat the same mistakes? The human mind is a remarkable pattern matching machine and if we recognise something that works then attempting to repeat it is I think also fairly natural.

Intention

I guess I'm skirting around a key point here, which is that of intention which I need to talk about before going on to my latest thinking on this subject.

We all see the world through our own eyes and as objective as we might try to be, we are always imagining someone else's position yet with our own back story and motivations. Not everyone picks up a camera for the same reasons that we do, they have their own intention.

In our eyes they may use that camera to produce sun drenched images of cliché locations or to create arty farty nonsense. Yet they may be completely comfortable with what they're doing and happy to do it. If somebody wants to spend what time they have with a camera taking photos at honeypot locations then they should - and I have - go and do it. "Live and let live", I say.

Be True to Yourself

From my own perspective, recently I've been feeling a growing need to move beyond making more classical pictures of well visited locations. Not that I think I  mastered that art, indeed a part of me wonders if I'm running away as it's easier than doing so. Personally I hope that this is a sign of growing maturity in my own approach and a desire to produce something more "me".

In art they say "be  true to yourself". Honestly I've never quite known what that means. It's fair to say the more thoughtful, philosophical side of art is still kinda new to me! I've come up with my own working interpretation of what it means. And again I think it has a lot to do with intention.

My interpretation is to listen to your emotional and sensory reaction to the world around you, and use that to guide your work. In some ways trying to avoid preconceptions or being overly influenced, but using more of a sense of intuition, where you find yourself slipping into a certain "zone" where things happen instinctively and subconsciously. It's difficult to put into words. I guess it's about seeing for yourself, reacting to it, and knowing that it's right, that you are moved by it.

By contrast my interpretation of being "untrue to myself" is motivated by an intention to mimic others' images, being so heavily influenced by other images that it's difficult for "you" to shine through, making an image for plaudits and faves on Flickr, etc. To differing degrees these represent only a fraction of us with the input and reaction of others completing the whole. So "being true" seems to me to be about tuning out the influence of others for a while and listening to your own instincts and reactions.

Be Brave

Coming back to my original point, I'm trying to listen to myself and find things that interest me more, and do more exploring to find things that interest me. That means I'm trying to walk away from the honeypot locations and find interest in other areas, or looking at things from a different perspective. This means relying a lot more on my luck and my intuition than it does on research of well known locations. This means getting it wrong a lot in the hope that I'll get it right sometimes!

As an example I headed out in the direction of Mam Tor in the Peak District at the weekend. We'd had snow towards the end of last  week. I was aware that snow was lying on this higher ground (not near where I lived).

But this was a Saturday, and Mam Tor is notorious for being busy on a Saturday morning. I got to the bottom car park and there were 4 cars parked there and I could see people on and heading up to the summit. I could have gone up and taken a similar shot. A snow covered ridge, with a lovely sunrise, what's not to like?

Yet I had come through a fantastic bank of fog before arriving at the car park and it was sitting in the valley behind me.

"Be brave" I said to myself as I started trudging in the opposite direction, towards the fog. Above it sat that fantastic purpley twilight colour that I adore.

Though I stopped for this I cursed myself for not being better prepared, for not being in the right position, for taking a gamble when I'm sure some great images were to be had up on Mam Tor.

Then I looked towards the mountain and could see other photographers crawling over it like ants and reminded myself that there are other images to be had, there's always something else to find.

I didn't quite get what I was looking for but upon returning to the car and chasing the fog bank further along the road I got two of my favourite shots of the year  (top and bottom of this post). Perhaps if I had been up Mam Tor I would have come back down and come to this fog bank anyway, but I like to think this was karma in some way and payment for my decision.

I consider the "true to myself" point again. Are they "me"? I'm not sure. I was certainly having a heart attack from the excitement of the conditions! Is that listening to myself? I think so, and I think "Enveloped" is one of my most evocative images to date, something I consciously hope to capture in my work.

I've often thought the phrase "adventure photography" sounded a bit daring, perhaps involving extreme sport, climbing mountains and the like. And yet I wonder if it's more of an adventure of oneself and what interests you. I think the real adventure is from taking the alternate path or better yet the path not yet trod and finding something that interests and moves you. Perhaps the adventure is more psychological than it is physical, and that is being true to ourselves.

Ultimately I guess it comes down to learning to trust yourself and your ability to make good photographs wherever your travels take you, even if that's means somewhere non-obvious. I think developing this trust and this ability to see and make "something out of nothing" is perhaps the key trait of a landscape photographer. So, be brave.

Autumn is Here!

It feels like many of us have been on the edge of our seats anticipating autumn's arrival for several weeks. It now looks like it's here so it's time to get out there and enjoy the colours and atmosphere of this fantastic time of year.

In previous years I have done a pretty poor job of capturing autumn. It's sometimes felt like I've been waiting for it to come and yet it's gone by the time I get out. I'm determined to do better this year! Below I share a few things I'll be keeping in mind to get the most out of the season.

Core Ingredients

Of course the joy of autumn is the wonderful colours. It's easy to be seduced by the vibrant red and gold colours. There will be no shortage of red tree photos on Flickr and Facebook streams as the colours are such an allure for everyone.

Whilst the colours may be the "hero" of the image, we need to make sure it has a supporting cast to make it stand out - strong composition, good lighting and good timing allied with good technique. Ultimately we want our picture to say more than "look, I found a red tree" and so we need to rely on our photographic powers to tell a better story.

This isn't unique unique to autumn, they're just the ingredients of a good photo. But we shouldn't abandon them thinking "you can't make a bad picture of this". Better to remember their importance in translating a beautiful scene into a successful photo.

Time of Day

As with other seasons the best light is usually found at the start and end of the day. The autumn colours are made ever more spectacular with the low, raking golden light found around sunrise and sunset. The soft light can also really lift the detail in the landscape.

By comparison sun in the middle of the day reduces the saturation of the colours and delivers harsh contrast, with the landscape being over bright in some parts and pure black in others. Again this isn't unique to autumn but when the colours are likely to be a main part of the image we really don't want them to be washed out!

Fortunately with the later sunrise and earlier sunset it's much easier to during golden hour than it is during the height of summer. Reason enough to love autumn.

Weather

We can get some pretty crazy weather in autumn. To be fair that's true anytime of the year in the UK. But there can be some really interesting clouds and storms going about and whilst it would be more comfortable taking shelter inside it's a perfect opportunity to get some really atmospheric shots with some stunning skies.

If we are in woodland, the general advice of avoiding bright sunshine in favour of overcast days still holds. Bright sunshine gives us strong contrast that is difficult to capture successfully in the image, adding to what can already seem like a complex image.

Reflections

Not only are the trees wonderful subjects in their own right but they also lend themselves to colourful reflections. These could be in puddles due to the previously noted weather, or in streams and lakes.

They can provide a real accent to an image, a sympathetic splash of colour to play off against the rest of the image. The image could be about the reflection itself, perhaps looking for a mirror effect or an abstract incorporating just the reflection.

Polariser

In apparent conflict with the previous point, a polariser is great for removing reflections.

Not all reflections are good reflections. Sometimes the leaves are wet, and even if they're not they are often shiny. This creates little reflections that make the leaves appear lighter and duller than they really are. Using a polariser helps to remove these reflections and give saturation and contrast back to the leaves.

Often the reflections you get on the water aren't pleasing colourful ones but bright white, glarey reflections of the sky. This can really detract from the warmer hues in the image. This is a good time to consider a polariser, and the darker water it creates will provide a more striking contrast against the foliage colours.

With the ever changing weather there's also a good chance of rainbows. A polariser can help saturate the colours of the rainbow so keep an eye out!

Mist

I love mist. It's so beautifully haunting. And autumn is a great time for mist with the longer, cooler nights. The mist gathers in the valley bottoms through the night providing us with a fantastic veiled landscape come the morning.

Getting above the mist can give you some lovely images, with the billowing mist falling into the troughs of the landscape. This gives the effect of different layers stretching into the distance, adding real depth to the image.

Mist in woodland provides a lot of opportunities. I often find trees quite difficult to shoot as they entangle each other to create quite messy, complex images. Mist helps to soften and declutter the woodland, again providing layers and rendering distant trees as ghost like figures. With an early morning sun, you can get some beautiful crepuscular rays shining through the trees.

Going further autumn provides increased chances of cloud inversions. These are basically like thick clouds that sit on the valley floor. If you get above them then it can feel like you've climbed through the clouds to the top of the world with nothing but cloud below you. This post by Terry Abraham (@terrybnd) explains the effect and the conditions that create it better than I could.

Contrast

The allure of autumn isn't just from the colour, but from the contrast between that colour and the rest of the landscape. Consider ways to accentuate this contrast. For example find a colourful tree against less colourful neighbours. Look for strong colour contrasting with a lack of colour. Remember that blue and yellow are complementary colours so look to contrast a blue sky with yellow leaves for example.

It's Not Just Trees

Trees are the hero of autumn. With a multitude of species turning at different times and going different colours, woodland takes on a whole palette of gorgeous colour.

But other plants take on their own interesting colours, perhaps less striking but still beautiful. Grasses, heathers and bracken near where I live in the Peak District turn the hillsides a wonderful array of browns, oranges, yellows and reds. It's worth keeping your eyes open for the changing colour of the landscape itself and making beautiful but perhaps less obvious autumn pictures.

Something Different

I'm increasingly thinking about capturing different aspects of the landscape. As well as 'standard' shots with my 21mm and 35mm, I'm looking for more intimate shots with longer focal lengths, getting in really close to the subject, or using a macro lens. Individual, perhaps back-lit, leaves provide an interesting subject, as do barks, details of other plants and mushrooms.

Look up, see how the yellow leaves and branches create interesting, abstract patterns. Rather than the whole tree, look for interesting branches and features to use in a tighter image.

Look for the landscape within the landscape to provide a more intimate perspective.

Get Out There

Autumn doesn't last long. We wait for what seems like forever for the trees to turn but before you know it the leaves are on the ground and the branches bare.

With so much to shoot and get excited about why stay at home? My shooting schedule has much increased this year which will certainly help.

It's a good time to bargain with the family for extra time out with the camera. If you've got any spare holiday then using it to go out midweek when the conditions are looking favourable is a good plan - you can't rely on luck for a weekend trip out. Judging by the number of photographers at Padley Gorge last weekend, going out midweek may be the best chance of enjoying autumn with a degree of solitude.

Don't wait for it to get better, just get out there and start shooting. One night of strong wind can blow the colours from the trees and it's a long wait for the next one...

The "Bleak District": Longdendale Project

A couple of Saturdays ago I spent a good morning with Al Brydon (@AlBrydonPhoto) in Bolehill Quarry where amongst other things we discussed the use of projects to focus your photographic efforts. Whilst I have read of the value of projects and seen the amazing results that some produce, nothing has materialised beyond the notion rattling around my head.

I suspect I'm not dissimilar to many photographers in the earlier stages of their journey. I would go out, find something I like and photograph it. Those things don't have to have a connection beyond things that I like. This has progressed to the point that when I research and find something that appeals, I feel that I'm able to make a strong individual image.

Beyond being continually attracted to similar subjects, I don't think taking lots of waterfall or long-exposure-sky-and-water-with-foreground-rock pictures quite counts as a project or a cohesive body of work. They represent individual finds and moments, perhaps magical in their own right, but also quite disconnected from each other. Maybe each or a subset of them could be the nucleus of a project, but for now they stand on their own.

By comparison looking at other artists' portfolios, the connection between their images is very strong. Though beautiful images in their own right, they are transported to a different level when brought alongside other related images. The sum is truly much greater than the parts. As recent examples of work that show this connectedness, Bruce Percy's recent trips to Bolivia, Patagonia, Norway and Iceland, Iain Sarjeant's Among Trees and a project that Al recently shared on the Behance Network have helped instill in me a need for greater cohesion in my own work.

I'm thinking that a body of work is a bit like a choir. Each member of the choir has their own voice and is a great singer in their own right. As an ensemble, the voice is all the louder. They may be singing the same song but the subtleties of each voice add something unique to the overall sound. Each image in a collection may be beautiful but when brought together with other images with a common theme the similarities and the differences are accentuated, making the shared voice stronger and the nuances more distinct.

So rather than searching for a reason not to do a project (e.g. feeling constrained, scared of losing enthusiasm), I've decided to embark on a project or two myself and see where they lead me. Perhaps somewhere new with renewed focus. Perhaps nowhere (not all projects must be an outright success as a life in IT has taught me).

I suspect this progression, for the self trained artist at least, is fairly common. Indeed it seems to share a pattern with "Capability Maturity Models" I've come across at work:

1. go and shoot the world, have some fun, learn your craft (chaotic)
2. find specific things that interest you, become good at making images (repeatable)
3. look for patterns and consistency, learn to tell a story and make a stronger connection with people (defined)

The later stages I haven't reached so couldn't knowledgeably extend the analogy. But in CMM it's about "optimising" and I'm sure "perfecting" (for want of a better word) your images and process will lie somewhere beyond.

Anyway...

This isn't some big announcement shouting about a massively exciting new project because until there's something to look at who really cares? More it's to acknowledge that I'm perhaps missing something that project work may help me find. Similarly it may be something for you to consider if you're finding yourself taking a lot of really nice pictures that don't "speak as one".

The Longdendale Project

One of the things that I've found recently is that I've been bemoaning photo opportunities where I live. On the edge of the Peak District. Life's a bummer huh? I've found myself travelling over to the "classic" Peak District in the east, chiefly the area around Hathersage - Stanage Edge, Over Owler Tor, Padley Gorge, the places that those familiar with the Peak District will know well. I've got to be honest a 40 minute car journey at 4.30am was occasionally off-putting (and not very green).

I'd scour my maps and the internet, trawl through Flickr looking for something more local for me to shoot. My conclusion: I live in the worst part of the Peak District. Nobody has any interest in my neck of the woods.

[osmap width=600 height=400 markers="SK0690598613"]

The majority of pictures in the Longdendale valley are of the trains that used to travel along the valley and through the Woodhead tunnels as they ran between Manchester and Sheffield. The line has since shut and been turned into a leisure track. Power pylons now snake their way along the valley before diving below ground into the old railway tunnels. A major trunk road, the A628 (T) "Woodhead", one of the busiest in the country,  runs along the other side of the valley. The valley itself was flooded to create 5 reservoirs by damming the River Etherow which runs the length of the valley.

With so few images, the busyness of the man made infrastructure, and lacking the more obvious beauty and relative tranquility of the southern and eastern peaks, it has long suggested to me that I should look farther afield for my image making.

Yes, I have been discounting a 12 mile stretch of the Peak District because there are no nice pictures on Flickr. Daft or what?! It has hills, trees, rocks, cliff faces, abandoned quarries, it even has - gasp - water and waterfalls! It runs east to west so you get the sun at each end of the valley either end of the day. It seems to have it's own weather system (which means it always seems to be windy and rainy :)). What's not to love?

So my first photo project is going to explore this valley and see what there is to show the world. In some ways I feel like an intrepid explorer venturing into the unknown, though the presence of man throughout the valley denies this reality! Even if those that have gone before me found little of note I'm certain that I'll find something that intrigues me. Perhaps I'll uncover a piece of me that has been hiding behind more accessible and pretty landscapes.

When you're on the slopes of those hills, you can see the road and the reservoirs and the electricity pylons, and yet you're still surrounded by this bleak and wonderful landscape. I suspect that this "wilderness in the midst of man" will be a theme that appears during the project. I expect the project to be dark, moody and at times bleak. I don't intend to bend the landscape to my will, that's just my experiences of living here! Per this post I'll keep an open mind on what I'll find. I'll keep you posted.

Location Guide: Middle Black Clough Waterfall

This is a short location guide to one of my favourite parts of the Peak District.

This is a little gem of a location. Located at the end of the Longdendale Valley, it's a secluded spot that millions pass by each year without realising it as they travel along the busy A628 Woodhead road.

The River Etherow starts at the head of the Longdendale Valley, which has been flooded to create 5 reservoirs. Not long into it's journey the Etherow is met by the stream coming from Black Clough. I'm never quite sure what you call this stream! I believe clough means gorge or ravine, but don't know what the stream running down the bottom of a clough is called. So I'll just call it a clough too!

There are actually three Black Cloughs - Near, Far and Middle. It is Middle Black Clough which is home to an impressive 10m waterfall. There is a lovely walk by the side of the clough through the trees leading to the waterfall. Note that you need to cross the river to get to the waterfall, so wear suitable footwear and use caution - especially after heavy rainfall when the river may be impassable.

How to get there

Middle Black Clough is just off the A628(T) Woodhead Road. On the map at the bottom you'll see a P for the car park. There is a short road leading down to the car park from the A628, next to the entrance of the Woodhead Tunnel.

Once you're parked, head over the bridge and then cross the stile immediately on your left. Follow this path until it takes a turn to the right at the junction of the Etherow and Black Clough. As you continue on the path you'll see a ford across the river, but keep on the same path with the stream on your left. Shortly after entering the trees you will see another stream emerging from the far side - this is Far Black Clough.

You'll soon come to the remains of some shooting cabins in a wide open area. Stay on the path until it takes a steep turn up the hillside. At this point you will see a cascade in front of you, and a small island in the stream. With great care, cross the stream using the various boulders as stepping stones.

Once on the other side, a path to the right should become obvious. Follow this keeping the stream to your right until you come to another river junction - this is where Near (on the right) and Middle (on the left) Black Clough meet. Keep to the path with the river on the right. There will be several largish boulders that you have to scramble across but the path should be obvious enough. It won't be long until you can see and hear the waterfall.

It takes about 20 minutes to get there from the car park.

What to shoot

On the walk there are some lovely rocks in the stream which I find interesting subjects in their own right. With the overhanging trees there are many classic "stream with green trees" shots to be had. Also keep an eye out for foam in the water, particularly after rainfall. This can create some interesting swirls in a long exposure. You can spend an hour or two working this stretch of river without ever crossing the river to get to the waterfall.

Once on the other side I think there are some lovely rocks in Middle Black Clough that are also worth exploring, though by this point the allure of the waterfall is strong!

Then there is the waterfall itself, which is quite a scene! As you might expect, there are steep sides all around the waterfall and you're working in quite a small area. Assuming there hasn't been too much rain you should be able to cross the stream to shoot both sides of the fall. I find the far side more pleasing with the curve of the moss covered rocks leading the eye round to the waterfall (as seen in the topmost image). Given the tight spaces, you're likely going to want quite a wide lens (17mm or 21mm) if you want to get most of the waterfall in.

Map

[osmap markers="SK1161899023;Middle Black Clough Waterfall"]