Vintage And Obsolescence

Our iMac is terminally ill. As is so often the case with computers, there was no warning - one day it was working fine and then the next the screen starts up with what is a cartoon-like portrayal of illness - a uniformly grey face hatched from corner to corner with little pink scars, except over the familiar Apple logo in the middle where they are green - and thus it is stuck. Three conversations later with various levels of Apple support and I learn there is nothing we can do about it. This is a top of the range machine; it looks as fresh as the latest models but, you see, this computer was bought in 2009. It’s seven years old. In Apple parlance it is “Vintage”. Far from that word’s association in my mind with nostalgia, something faded and elegant to be preserved or enjoyed over time, in Apple’s dictionary it means it is no longer supported for repairs and spare parts. Redundant. It is time to move on. 

When I took the photograph above, I wanted to convey the idea of stumbling on a typically disorganised family archive and to emphasise that the item you will most immediately fall upon and instantly enjoy and share, will be printed - a photograph, or letter perhaps. There may be other valuable material stored within the various media there but the effort and equipment required to extract it will in all likelihood make the exercise cumbersome, even impossible. It may in short become a joyless task, which would be such a shame. In the case of our own computer we have been lucky; behind its dead face we could hear signs of life, the processors and drives seemed to be okay, as though the computer were trapped in some electronic coma. With a little ingenuity we found a work-around that allowed us to extract the remaining files that hadn’t already been backed up.

Later, I sat next to a mother and keen photographer at a party - my dinner companion was passionate about her family photographs. “I keep all my SD [camera] cards in the safe”, she volunteered. I asked her how confident she was that one day in the future she would still be able to read them - and on what? It’s not the media itself that’s necessarily going to fail in time (it may, it may not, we’re not sure) but the devices and connections that media relies on to read it are ever so vulnerable. We agreed that the best thing we were doing for our families’ future enjoyment of photographs was the dutiful creation of the annual holiday book and calendar.

Back at home, we have just discarded a broken mini-disc player. I am looking at my Firewire drives. I am looking at the comatose iMac. It’s time to switch the life support off. We’ll send it to be recycled and hopefully its beautifully machined aluminium casing will serve in some future incarnation. In the meantime, if your idea of a family photograph is one that your grandchild will one day enjoy, then bear in mind it may be best not to rely on the computer world’s notion of “Vintage”.

The Colours Of Summer

The island of Burano lies in the northern part of the Venetian lagoon, about 45 minutes by boat from Venice itself. Along with neighbouring Torcello, it is less busy than the more commercial Murano - its intimate fishing village atmosphere certainly feels miles apart from the palatial grandeur of Venice.

You could almost be in Greece; certainly, the art of lacemaking found its way here from Cyprus. While the labour-intensive nature of this craft has made it a more rarified spectacle, no visitor strolling the little streets of this island can miss the colourful houses. Lore has it that they were brightly painted as a guide to returning fishermen, or possibly simply as a means of marking out property boundaries. Either way, it’s a paradise for photographers who wish to take a break from the crowds and some of the overly-familiar vistas of Venice.

My own photography on the island was constrained by another brief, so I had only a short time to capture some images for myself during the middle of the day when the sun was high, which was less than ideal. I found myself drawn to an abstract approach, ditching the camera in favour of an i-Phone and concentrating on where these colours met or had to accommodate street names and numbers or pipes. The resulting compositions show uncompromising hues redolent of summer - hot pinks, sultry oranges and reds, lapis blues - the raw ingredients of the northern Italian Renaissance paintings hanging in ornate palazzi a few kilometres away and here peeling in the sunshine on the walls of modest fishermen’s homes.

Looking carefully as well at textures and details brings its rewards; I think my favourite shot is of the painted ants seemingly appearing out of a crack in the wall, but they have been painted over on the right side - did the owner of the orange house not like the idea of them running over his side of the property? Something to idly contemplate as the boat later pulled out into that blue coloured lagoon.

Future Take - The Next Generation On Photography

I had an idea a few weeks ago to conduct a little piece of research. The notion came about through a nagging feeling that, for all the pundits’ views on photography, we’re not quite grasping the scale of the revolution in image making and the repercussions for manufacturers and professionals alike. I wanted to find out what does the future hold? And who better to ask than the very people set to shape it?

It turns out I had been beaten to it by Nikon - I came across a paper commissioned by the company to coincide with the Photokina photography show in Cologne last September. Titled The Future Of Imaging Report, its stated objective is to “describe the future of imaging…in a social, cultural and technological landscape that is rapidly transforming how people capture, share and use imagery.” How true, and hats off to any manufacturer which acknowledges that the camera needs to become a whole lot smarter if it is indeed to remain a relevant tool, even if it remains to be seen whether they follow through.

However, The Future Of Imaging Report is based on a series of interviews with “executives, academics, authors, scientists, editors and thinkers”. I wanted to ask the direct opinions of people who are going to be the likely consumers and producers of imagery ten years down the line. What are they doing now? What are their aspirations and needs? What’s their view on photography and its challenges and what trends do they anticipate? Will they even consider owning a camera? So I presented these questions to a group of 15 - 22 year-olds, most with a keen interest in technology or the visual arts and the responses speak for themselves.

A big thank you to those who participated and offered their time and thoughts. Photography is here to stay… even if the way we go about it changes.

You can read The Future Of Imaging Report here

Beth

“Photography is more about making memories than making art.”

Beth is doing A-Levels, including Film Studies, at sixth form college and photography plays a big role in her social life, “For many girls, taking photos of getting ready is the main part of going out!” She has access to professional cameras in connection with her course work but admits to feeling a little out of her depth with these. “I’d love a proper camera but given the choice I’d rather spend money on having an amazing experience than the equipment to photograph it.” She is a prolific social photographer with her phone, or even friends’ phones if they’re to hand, recording friendships and memories over the last two years in an ambitious and ongoing photo-a-day project. She uploads these to Facebook as an annual album which she additionally prints on a home printer to turn into a giant collage for her bedroom. What of the future? “Social media will become a camera in itself, it’s a front - we can’t go back to how photography was when it was invented - it’s now about manipulation.”

Alice

“It would be amazing to take photos with a blink of the eye - with a kind of eye implant.”

Alice’s portfolio for her Art GCSE is full of studies of goldfish and carp, confidently portrayed in great washed strokes, water colours of the family’s whippet Perdy and a series of thoughtful portraits set against backgrounds of calligraphy and pages torn from novels. Among these are the course’s required photographic studies, laid out as contact sheets and all shot on her digital SLR camera, which she uses almost exclusively in connection with her art projects. “I think you have to work quite hard at photography - I like artistic photos with clever angles or composition.” The camera was left at home, however, during a school trip to Italy; “It’s a bit too valuable but in fact I was relieved not to have to carry it and worry about it all the time. I use my phone for general photography and friends anyway.” Her artfully crafted selfie portraits play a central role in this output and shape her vision of the future: “My ideal camera? Something like an eye floating above you, capturing not just the scene, but you in it as well.”

Matt

“There will be no difference in quality between phones and cameras and anyway, it’s about how fast you can share.”

The DSLR camera used for Matt’s movie-making has been temporarily shelved pending imminent GCSE exams. Aged 16, he is already on his way to becoming an accomplished film producer / director, winning the accolade of Best Director Under 21 two years in a row in the Winchester Short Film Festival and having his last short film selected for show in London. Matt uses his camera mostly to shoot video in connection with testing and setting up shots for his productions but when he turns his attention to stills he says he likes to do street photography. “Photography is incredibly important in this day and age - it has become a universal language for story-telling and conveying ideas. I’m wary of taking boring, clichéd photos but to do photography well is really tricky.” His fantasy equipment of choice would be an analogue movie film camera: “Film is a living memory; it’s more organic, looks better, is more tangible. Digital is so much more complicated.”

Georgie

“Anybody can pick up a camera now and take photos. I think it’s no longer seen as an art form.”

Some of her fellow A-Level Photography students use their i-Phones for course work but Georgie perseveres with her DSLR, which she additionally uses to photograph nature and landscapes. “These cameras are a bit big and expensive - I’m not so interested in the gadgets and I don’t need all the features, which is why I use my phone a lot for day-to-day stuff, photographing friends.” Studying for the A-Level has made her thoughtful on the artistic merits of photography: “For photography to be considered art you need to have a concept, you have to know what you’re looking for in advance and then set about creating it. But most photos are taken to capture a moment rather than to create something.” Looking ahead, she sees technology helping to make photography even easier, “The equipment will become smaller, more smart-phone orientated. It won’t challenge the user, the camera will recognise the scene and do everything.”

Laura

“Photography is becoming all about creating and sharing stories.”

Another GCSE Art student, Laura is prolific in her photographic output, taking “lots” on her phone of “anything - friends, moments, memories - stuff that inspires, whether walking around the city or just in the garden.” She is keenly aware of a growing trend in visual story-telling through channels such as Instagram and Pinterest and where selfie portraits place the photographer at the centre of the action. “Photography is subjective - I might like a photo but actually the challenge is persuading others that it’s great. I think my enjoyment of it makes it easier; I’m more willing to experiment and persevere to get the right shot.” Laura foresees a merging of technology where cameras incorporate editing and sharing capability and where long-lasting batteries and miniaturisation will allow wearable, always-on capture. “If you’re serious about photography you’ll have a camera but smart phones will be used primarily by most people. Photography will be based around social media.”

Henry

“Professional photographers will continue to use SLR’s. For everyone else, phones will do it all.”

Henry, 22, is a Computer Science student at UCL taking a year out of his studies to spend time in the industry making apps and websites for small and medium businesses. His background in both the arts and technology has led to an equal appreciation of design and engineering alongside software development. “With technology, it’s important not to forget the human factors behind it.” He is a steady rather than prolific taker of photographs, using either a compact camera or phone to record one or two shots at a time of landmarks, places or social gatherings and nights out. “The value of photography in a social sense is reflected in the increasing amounts of photos that people take themselves and of themselves. People love photos.” Henry is also an enthusiastic user of Instagram. “As an art form, photography is easy to join in, hard to master. But with technology, the mastering part is getting easier.”

Emma

“Photography is a linear, accumulative process and loads of photos of sunsets are part and parcel of that.”

Emma has just started her degree in Human, Social and Political Sciences at Cambridge and reads deeply into my questions. She relies on a four-year old compact camera for her photography (uniquely among my interviewees, her phone is a Blackberry) although she is developing her interest with her mother’s recently bought DSLR. She is wary of the negative aspects of photography on social media and its potential to intrude. “For me photography is a personal recording, it’s a kind of memory hook.” Despite finding photography “paradoxically, really difficult” she enjoys looking out for street scenes, little details, or “something striking”. She has a particular fascination with the process that goes into making a photograph and the co-operation of her subjects to achieve an outcome: “I like to experiment with capture - I enjoy the novelty in the capture process itself.”

One Year On

A year ago today, I published my first blog post. I wrote about our own family photo albums as that seemed a natural starting point for a discussion on family photography (and equally importantly, the preservation of family photography), the premise and inspiration behind The Candid Eye. “Digital technology has resulted in a proliferation of photographs, but how many of them will our children be able to pick up?” I asked back then. 

This and similar questions have occupied my mind over the year and it has been a fascinating experience reading, researching and writing around this topic. I can’t admit to being much nearer to finding a definitive solution to the problems of preserving our memorable moments for the future. All I know is that the photo above serves as a reminder of how quickly modern storage media become obsolete and unreadable.

We take the majority of our photos on our phones. Through channels such as Instagram and Snapchat we choose to converse in images rather than words, so as a matter of course pictures are, if not discarded completely, at least over-written in the mind, to be quickly replaced by the next transient capture. Where does that leave the notion of an archive, with all that implies in terms of curation and preservation? Maybe cloud storage is the answer after all, but what of the tactile quality of handling a book or contemplating a print? And what of the future cost of retrieval?

Photography in the family world of 2015 is constantly fluid and evolving, where the children themselves may well be active contributors to their own archive and the photo album plays only a small part in a larger multi-media universe. My objective is just to not have it forgotten altogether. On its first birthday I see The Candid Eye as occupying an analogue / digital middle ground - celebrating not just traditional processes but also the digital technology that makes many of those processes feasible on a small scale and relevant today. As a compelling example, who until recently could have imagined publishing a book in an edition of one?

“I’m not entirely sure where this journey will lead”, I wrote vaguely but I feel like I have at least taken a few steps down the road. And looking ahead down that road I have some points of interest coming up on the near horizon: the next generation’s view on photography; a paper restorer’s advice on document and photo preservation; a top party planner’s guide to creating a unique, memorable event; why enthusiasts and pro photographers will finally get the camera they’ve been wanting (and why it will cost more).

Keep photographing and let’s see what happens over the coming year…

The Dolphin, The Gazelle, The Cheetah And The Lion

When I arrived at Mike and Clare’s house, Mike was wielding a pen-knife in boy scout fashion and excitedly removing an old sepia photograph from a crumbling frame. The image depicted a formal group at a wedding, a family gathering posed in a static arrangement to allow for the long exposure time to capture the moment for posterity. Mike had recovered it along with some others from an outhouse he was clearing out; it was in all likelihood just over a hundred years old. It was an emotive moment - I was now there to take photographs of his own family.

Mike is a leadership consultant at Aberkyn and author on the subject and Clare is a television and radio presenter - they are parents to four children. They are nothing if not passionate. Passionate about everything: family, faith, work, football, friends, life. I had known the family for a little while, in particular as neighbours in Winchester and I was always certain a photo shoot with them would be exceptional. When the opportunity did eventually arrive, I was taken aback by the generosity of access to the inner heart of family that they granted me. The experience is equally generously conveyed in Clare’s own words:

“Mike was the one who saw it first - ‘It’ being ‘The Golden Years’ of family life - when Lily (13) is her own person but yet so happy to be with us still, Maisie (10) is stepping into her true self, Hal (8) is so full of fun and without guile and Gabriel (6) is still young enough to be doted on by all the other siblings, and for him life is all about play… 

This is the story of the Dolphin (watch her dive);

The Gazelle (watch her dance);

The Cheetah (watch him run)

And the Lion cub (watch him roll and bask in the sun!)

All themselves

And all bound as one. 

“As a family we are consciously trying to ‘make memories’ - family adventures or times of one on one: Sunday tea by the fire or Dad’s Saturday brunch… but how do we ‘capture’ those memories? My hope was to have someone photograph ‘the vernacular’, the everyday, to create a virtual and visual scrap book that goes beyond the scrubbed faces and the smiles.  

“When Lily was born we had a fire in the house and it was pretty devastating. It certainly made us realise what was important in our lives - and the only thing we wanted to rescue was… the photographs… The memories, the stories, our history and that of the generations before us. Fortunately, we had never put them in albums - instead they were left in boxes stacked at the back of cupboards and so escaped the seeping tentacles of smoke damage and were mainly ok!  Ever since then, photographs have been a critical part of our lives; when Mike’s Dad died we bought a good camera (for the first time) - so that we could record precious memories of our growing family.  

“Though now we are awash with photographs - the children snap away at everything on our phones: a funny face made out of baked beans at the tea table, a hundred shots of conkers, handstands, beetles, goofy grins and the obligatory surfeit of selfies! Devaluing the currency - and yet documenting living history and making their own memories…

“So it was time to embrace the Golden Age and capture it by raising the photography bar - with James quietly watching and documenting our family chronicles… catching the laugh and the light, looking through a window into our world… family heritage recorded with split second accuracy that will make each moment last many lifetimes. Perhaps kept on a screen, perhaps in a frame, perhaps carried in the heart.”

When we got back from the second part of the shoot, we sat around the kitchen table with a cup of tea and contemplated the hundred year old print. What were we going to produce with the material that we had just captured? I am working on some ideas - there will be something beautiful that celebrates the now of childhood, for sure - but what I’d really like - what we'd really like - is if, in a hundred years’ time, like us around this table, someone would still be able to hold a photograph from this shoot and say, “That’s The Dolphin, The Gazelle, The Cheetah and The Lion. That’s our family”.

A New Year, A New Vintage

This blog is all about where photography meets family and the things or places that are personal or meaningful to us. So what happens when photography meets family, meets the land, meets wine and the location is a sun filled corner of France’s Languedoc region? 

Heading east out of the walled city of Carcassonne and a few kilometres from the Canal du Midi, there is a turn off the D235, down an avenue of old pines. At the end, nestling behind an olive grove and set among extensive vineyards is Château Canet, a small family-owned estate and home to the Lemstra-Bakes. More than home in fact - it’s a way of life for they have set themselves the task of not only creating a range of exceptional wines but turning the property into a hub for wine-tasting, local tourism, art and culinary events and functions. They are helped in this ambition by a dedicated team, an extended family almost, some of whom have been established in the region for generations.

Last year I had the happy task of photographing the property. It was a commercial brief - pictures were required for the website, for marketing material and for use in presentations to wine buyers. The images needed to show off the wonderful wines, the facilities and the gites (yes, you can stay there too). The great thing about working on this kind of project are all the strands that need to be pulled together; nature’s form in the land, the vines and the wine; technology with the machinery, the stainless steel, the process; and above all, the people that make it happen: Floris and Victoria with their children Oliver and Charlotte; Jane at front of house; Denis and Cyril in the vineyards and Philippe and David blending and bottling; Nathalie the oenologist; Emilie in the office and Emilio keeping everything in order throughout the extensive grounds. (And not forgetting the dogs, Dudley, Elliot and Salut!) 

Anything for us...?

There is an energy and purpose to the state-of-the-art winery that is quietly balanced by the serene setting of the house, vines and countryside. However, as impressive as the technology may be and as beautiful as the situation of the house is, the most important story lies with the people behind it all and their passion in a shared vision. 

And what better way of showing the human side of such a personal business than photography? Carefully put together, a collection of photographs has a narrative quality that brings out a story, in this case a story of a remarkable enterprise - and one that will be fascinating to revisit in years to come.  Such a documentary becomes more valuable over time, much like a good wine, in fact.

You can see more of Château Canet here.

Candid Lessons In Trafalgar Square

I arrived home both exhausted and buzzing on Sunday night. I had just attended a weekend long photography workshop at the National Portrait Gallery, under the guidance of Graeme Robertson, a multi award winning photojournalist who works for The Guardian newspaper and whose recent personal project on blind children in Africa and India has earned him a place in the current Taylor Wessing portrait exhibition at the gallery. Graeme doesn’t pull his punches and our small group, comprising both enthusiasts and professionals, found ourselves constantly drilled in the importance of mastering good camera technique.

With photography, as with anything, we build up habits and develop routines. I have been taking photographs for years and I fall back on techniques that on the whole work for me in most situations. But are they the best for every given situation? Rather like having your golf swing or tennis serve picked apart and then reconstructed, it’s a bit disconcerting to have your comfortable old ways torn up - the tendency is to resist but persevere and your game ultimately improves. 

Someone who deals with the caprice of celebrities and politicians and who has covered conflict in the Middle East wasn’t going to let us sit around in our mental comfort zones either. We were duly pitched out into neighbouring Trafalgar Square for an hour of street photography. I learned a couple of lessons from this experience. Firstly, dealing with complete strangers is a great leveller - I have to admit to feeling a little awkward behind the camera. There was no hiding, all the pictures shown here have no crop and were taken with a 50mm lens, which meant that a close portrait shot needed to be taken from about three or four feet. Secondly, I realise I probably wouldn’t make the best news photographer yet; call it force of habit again, from years of photographing children maybe, but I found my tendency was to intervene rather than letting events unfold.

However, one observation that struck me was the general acceptance of photography. It was a beautiful winter day, for sure, and Trafalgar Square, with its street performers and perched Yodas, can engender a carnival like atmosphere on occasion. Nevertheless, regardless of age, background, ethnicity, everyone seemed reasonably relaxed at the prospect of being photographed. Indeed most people were photographing themselves anyway. Such is the prevalence of the medium now.

So, have I come away a better photographer? It will take a more serious project to find out but I feel a little bit sharper on the technicalities and a little bit more sympathetic to the person on the other side of the lens. However, the great thing I get out of photography is that there is no end to the learning and no end to the experiences you can build.

And as a post script, thank you to my subjects, wherever you are and whether you knew you were being photographed or not ;-)

New Horizons

When I embarked on this blog earlier in the year I always worried there would be a moment when pressure of work might run a little too hard against the limitations of time and something would have to give. So it proved the case these last couple of months - just what happened to November and December? The good news is that a couple of the projects I was working on in the latter part of the year grew in scope and may well result in further exciting outcomes in the coming year. These came on top of a typically busy autumn, so while I have some ideas and pictures which I am looking forward to sharing in the weeks ahead, the not so great part is that it all resulted in a couple of months of neglect here on this page. And now, suddenly, I find myself at the eve of a new year, that classic temporal viewpoint from where we contemplate our journey so far and scan the horizon for directional clues to future opportunity and fulfilment.

I don’t think 2014 has been a particularly kind year to the photographic profession. It's difficult to get figures but the talk that I am picking up is that social photography in particular is in decline as a profession. Photography as an art form came under attack and the digital camera market has shrunk further, to levels similar to 2004. At the same time, conversely, nothing appears to abate the growth of photographic output and consumption, which has never been greater. But is it in a good way? In the words of Turner Prize winning artist Grayson Perry, “We live in an age when photography rains on us like sewage from above.” If 2015 means setting one resolution, it is to adapt and think laterally about where the opportunities lie.

It wasn’t all gloom and doom, however. When I look back on 2014, I realise that I was lucky to make new friends, visit new places, work in a couple of fabulously exotic locations and establish relations with new and interesting clients in diverse fields. I have compiled a pictorial diary of the year, just one or two pictures from each month - this is not a best of - it’s more of a behind the scenes glimpse at my photography moments of 2014, at home and at work.

January brought wide-scale flooding to many parts of the UK - this reflection of a tree in flood water in the New Forest was caught on an uncharacteristically clear day. Meanwhile, back at home in Winchester, the River Itchen burst its banks.

There were many Swiss chocolate box moments to be had in February, during a three day lifestyle shoot in St Moritz and the beautiful Engadine Valley. Everywhere you looked in fact, including this view out of the train carriage window.

March brought the annual Save The Children musical fund-raiser to the Roundhouse again. Following previous years' smash evenings of Soul & Funk and Blues, 2014 was the year of Reggae. Here, Jimmy Cliff wows guests with the hit "The Harder They Come".

April, and it has been an eye-opening experience to become more involved with the remarkable Blue Apple Theatre over the last 18 months. This company of adults with learning difficulties stages ambitious productions, including this "Tales From The Arabian Nights" at the Theatre Royal in Winchester.

I love May, when the thought of summer starts to take a hold and family photography comes into its own. This shot of Olivia running freely through a tulip filled garden in Sussex sums it up.

Old cars and cycling featured one way or another through 2014, but perhaps none better combined than in this chance shot taken during a Citroen 2CV rally in France in June.

Let's not forget our own family holiday - we managed to escape to Crete for a week in July. Son No.2 enjoyed attempting handstands in an unusually vigorous surf on Phalasarna Beach.

It's not possible to get through the year without mention of the ubiquitous i-Phone. The shot for August is suitably sunny, courtesy of a Hipstamatic filter.

September brought a remarkable trip to Venice and enough photographic potential to fill a blog for a year and inspiration for October's post. One of the city's hidden gems that I was lucky enough to visit was tucked away behind the obvious view - the Bevilacqua weaving mill, an extraordinary throwback in time, continues to produce fabrics in a centuries old tradition.

In October, it was back to France to put the finishing touches to a project there and another chance to visit the dramatic Cathar castles at Chateaux des Lastours.

There are a couple of fantastic family projects that remain a work in progress. One of them produced my favourite Hampshire portrait of the year in November.

Lily, 2014

Finally, I can't help but say that December speaks for itself...

It has been a fun and instructional exercise to recollect the better moments of the last year and I look forward to the chance to share more in the coming months. In the meantime, whatever profession you are in, I wish you happy and prosperous endeavours in 2015.

The Constancy of Venice

A couple of weeks ago I was fortunate to have the opportunity to work in Venice for several days. Whilst out there I met the architect and historian Francesco da Mosto, a charismatic Venetian aristocrat who, while just happening to be married to the sister of a friend of mine, is perhaps best known in the UK for his passionately delivered travel documentaries about Venice and Italy for the BBC. By a happy coincidence, he was giving a presentation at our event and my friend had kindly texted his wife to say I'd be there so we were able to have a chat afterwards.

Our conversation revolved around life in London and Venice; as an architect, what did he think of London’s changing skyline? I asked. How did he compare the pace of life in these two historic trading cities? Would he live elsewhere? The response to my questions, delivered in his generous Italian accent, summed up his affection for the city: “I love Venice”, he said. “I love that it doesn’t change. The Venice of today is largely the Venice of hundreds of years ago. The geography and geology don’t allow change and I love this constancy in Venice.”

The following evening I had a chance to slip away for an hour, to explore the back streets and seek out one of my favourite vistas, looking east past the Baroque masterpiece of Santa Maria della Salute, toward the entrance to the Grand Canal and the campanile of St. Mark’s Square. I had taken some photographs here just the year before and by another happy coincidence had then stumbled upon a painting of the very same view whilst working at an event in Scotland. It was by Francesco Guardi, a contemporary of Canaletto. What is striking in this 250 year old work of art is not just the similarity of the view to that of the present day but the similarity of the details right down to the paving stones; only the people that occupy the scene have changed. Here was Francesco da Mosto’s “constancy” that he so savoured about his home city.

There is a reassurance about things that don’t change. Venice is a rare example where development is constrained by its lagoon setting and extraordinary history; cities are organic, diverse and constantly evolving, so we often turn to the countryside landscape for a more solid sense of place, even if it’s for a week or two each year. How many of us make an annual family trek to somewhere familiar?

In our case it is the north Cornish coast; the view across the beach at Polzeath to Pentire Head and opposite, over the Camel Estuary and beyond to Gulland Rock is ingrained in our collective family memory - fifty years and more of the same scene, as over time we have huddled over rock pools in the wind, built sandcastles or charged the Atlantic surf. We may be on holiday, but it feels like home.

The stories in our holiday photographs unfold similarly; there in the background is the familiar topography of beach, rock and cliff, standing steadfast over time, while in the foreground friends come and go and children grow. As with the pictures of Venice, the view remains the same, it’s the people who eventually change.

About Being Brave And Hiring A Professional Photographer

If I asked, “Would you hire a professional to photograph your wedding?” I think for most people the answer would still be a given. But would you hire a professional to photograph your family? As someone with a vested interest, I hope the answer would be “Yes”, although I detect an increasingly confident self-sufficiency creeping into this area now. And why not? It’s not only cameras that are more sophisticated, there is a wealth of inexpensive printing and publishing options that have grown too, not to mention the various new trends in taking and sharing photographs. So how does bringing in a photographer stack up in the face of this change? I am not talking here about a cheap fix, one of those “session and all the photos supplied on disc for £90” deals where, like an all-you-can-eat buffet, the only memory at the end will likely be indigestion. No, a proper portrait commission requires an emotional and financial commitment and, unlike wedding photography, is a much more discretionary investment. Is it worthwhile and what should you be looking for?

Taking the leap

Taking the second part of that question, look beyond the camera for a start; the number one thing to consider is the finished work. It’s important to look to someone who understands the aesthetics and the production values required to turn the captured image into a physical product, be that a print, an album or a gallery-style wall mounting. Unless the chosen images are produced in some printed form I think it’s a fair bet your grandchildren won’t get to enjoy them, at least not in that spontaneous, tactile way that comes from handling an object. So a knowledge of production and an insistence on printing should very much be part of the package. Also editing, in the sense of choosing only the best and cutting the rest, is an unseen skill that is increasingly overlooked or even ignored. It is absolutely part of the photographic process. Dumping 500 unfiltered pictures on a disc is not a service to the client - it betrays a lack of rigour, at worst it may disguise a lack of skill. It’s vital to establish the quality of the outcome as well as making your choice on the basis of just style or price.

Lasting qualities

Having decided this is something you want to do, a major consideration is whether to go for a studio or location based session. I think this is a matter of personal preference - some people like the formality and neutral space of a studio setting, which often also brings a sense of structure to group shots. I am a location photographer as I believe that home is part of what makes family and so for me it is the natural backdrop where everyone can feel at ease.

One advantage of working on location

And the benefits? Perhaps, as a parent, you always seem to have the responsibility for all the photography and you yourself never appear in any of the pictures (I am all too familiar with this). Perhaps you’re aware that you are not taking enough photos and theres’a real gap in your record of family life. Sometimes, it’s a great excuse to get the whole family together, particularly larger families with teenage children who never seem to be around at the same time or where parents do a lot of travelling. A photo shoot addresses all of these.

But here is the main point, it’s a brave thing to do to put yourselves under the scrutiny of an outsider. It’s this objective view that is one of the factors which makes the exercise so worthwhile. Children in particular respond well to the non-judgemental attention and often, their personalities really shine during a shoot. A good photographer will set out to portray you in the best possible light for sure, and seek to play to your strengths but he or she can present a refreshingly honest view as well; there are no preconceived ideas of family dynamics to get in the way. A good photo shoot creates a buzz at the time and you’ll have some amazing, eye-opening photos to enjoy. But when you put together an album or frame a beautiful portrait, those items become part of the glue that sticks family together in the years to come - that’s an investment that can only grow in value and makes the argument for doing it compelling. At whatever stage in your lives and even if only once, at least consider handing over photography to a professional.

Reasons To Use A Camera On Holiday (And Not Just Your Phone)

Now, there’s no doubt some phones have pretty good cameras and I’m a big fan of the one on my iPhone. I like to use it as a kind of photographic sketchbook or to get a slightly different take on a scene using a creative app like Hipstamatic (you can see a few below). However, I still can’t imagine going on holiday without a "proper" camera, even though I’m wondering if this is now becoming a minority viewpoint. The thing is, of course, the phone is always to hand and such a great multi-tasker on the internet. From a photographic standpoint, this is a notion we have certainly taken to heart - and camera sales prove the point.

Earlier this year the Camera and Imaging Products Association of Japan (CIPA) reported global shipments of fixed lens cameras not just flatlining but in precipitous free fall, down 41 percent in a year, a wipeout largely attributable to our take-up of the phone for our day to day photography. The forecast for camera sales for this year was pretty pessimistic and latest actual figures bear this out; sales of cameras of all types (yes, for the first time, even those fancy mirrorless ones) in all markets except Japan are in decline. Grim reading for camera buffs. So, as we enter the height of the holiday season, I thought I’d issue a plea on behalf of the good old-fashioned camera; if we abandon it completely this can only be to the detriment of our holiday photographs. 

In my last post I touched on the merits of being more proactive in order to get better pictures on holiday, of adopting the role of director and guiding the action, if only for twenty minutes or so each day. If that was about approach, then this is about the tools for the job and I do remain a firm believer that if you want to get the best from your holiday photos, you shouldn’t just be relying on your phone for that. So, here are half a dozen reasons why I have been making room in my holiday packing for a camera:

Set up action!

The first, much touted and obvious point is quality, in terms of both capture and resolution but let's move this issue aside for a moment. I think there are equally important but more subtle factors to consider. Let’s start with frame of mind, for instance. We’re so used to carrying our phones all the time, the ubiquity of them clouds our judgement of what actually makes a good time for photography. Picking up a camera, on the other hand, forces us to think photographically about a scene, perhaps even to think about setting something up (there’s the director again) or to look and wait for a moment. I think having a camera at the ready puts me just a bit more on the lookout than merely having my phone in my pocket.

Waiting for the moment

Then there's artistic expression; I mean this in the sense of recording a scene as you really wish it to be remembered. A camera has a degree more control over this. I’m not talking about the need to be an expert here - a camera just has far more processing power dedicated to addressing the basics of focus and exposure, even in Auto mode. The one thing I find most frustrating with my phone camera is trying to fine tune exposure and that can mean the difference between a glorious sunset and a muddy silhouette.

Tricky lighting for a phone camera

Let’s not forget the practical side of things, the ergonomics. I love the elegant design of the iPhone, but the qualities that ensure I have it with me all the time are not the qualities that necessarily make it easy to take pictures in certain conditions. Like at 20 knots in a speed boat.

Not taken with my iPhone...

And doesn’t it make you feel a little queasy holding your £600 phone over twelve feet of water, knowing you need it for a conference call later in the afternoon? I know, you would never call the office while on holiday and there are waterproof cases and all sorts of action accessories on the market. Well, in the same way I have never seen anyone not check their phone for emails on holiday, I don’t think I have seen anyone carrying a phone on anything so much as a lanyard either. The fact is the camera on the phone is a periphery on a device designed to handle all our other communications needs so in many circumstances we don’t want to risk using (or losing) it. That definitely compromises the kind of photos we can capture.

An all-purpose waterproof and shockproof compact camera remains a good holiday bet

What of the photographs themselves? A well set up phone is presumably synching the photos with other devices and backing them up to a cloud service. I worry that’s where they stay, eventually buried with all the other stuff. The act of inserting a card into a camera and retrieving the photos later bears just a little semblance to loading a camera with film. Downloading the images as a discreet project allows for concentrated sorting and then editing the pick of the bunch for sharing and printing. I am not saying this can’t be done with a phone but I do think the process of doing this via a camera is a more photographically complete one, with more controls.

Son No.2 demonstrates another tricky lighting situation

Ah, did I mention quality? There’s no escaping the fact that the tiny little sensor in your phone doesn’t collect as much light and doesn’t output as many pixels as a mid-range camera. While the results may look fine online, what works on Facebook could well fall down when it comes to printing that calendar at the end of the year. If our holiday photos represent our most appealing and enduring memories, then aren't we looking to print some of them?

Holiday companion for a little while yet...

Don't get me wrong, I love my phone for photography - I'm sure the quality gap will continue to narrow, maybe we're already at a point where it's "good enough". But for the time being, I’m backing mine up with a proper camera, even just a compact one. Happy holidays!

For Great Holiday Photos, Take On The Role Of Director

As we pack our bags and contemplate the early start to the airport, let’s consider this scenario; under an azure sky a crystal sea gently laps the hot sand; neatly aligned parasols flutter in a breeze; bougainvillaea tumbles over the white walls of a nearby villa; children are happily playing on the shoreline. Suddenly there are excited cries and waving in the direction of the sun loungers - the children appear to have netted a shrimp or maybe they've built a sand tower that hasn’t fallen over for the first time, perhaps devised a new game with a piece of driftwood. Twenty feet away, their father lowers his newspaper in acknowledgement, reaches for his phone on the neighbouring lounger and, without moving further, takes a photograph with it before waving back and returning to his paper. I have made up this scene but I do witness similar all the time and can’t help wondering what happens to the photos in question.

The holiday abroad brings together family and friends in exciting and possibly unfamiliar settings. It also provides a little of that precious commodity, time - time to relax with a book or laze on a beach, for sure; but also time to explore, time to spend with the children, time to take photographs. My approach to the big holiday production is to cast myself in the role of director. The production team (in our case, my wife) has organised the flights, the transport, the villa or hotel and a cast of not quite thousands - just the two boys, maybe some friends. The director's job is to tell the story and if you are the one who has been charged with the task of taking the family holiday photos, I have to say that it does mean putting the book or newspaper down for a while. However, you also get to be that much more involved with your subjects and surroundings - and isn't that a part of what being on holiday is about?

Acting as director is something I have learned from years of photographing children; it involves recognising or setting up situations that are favourable to the camera in terms of light or setting but which allow the subjects freedom and space to express themselves naturally. The great thing about the holiday setting is this is happening all the time around you - it’s just a question of making a little effort and stepping in (and sometimes, stepping back).

I haven’t researched the numbers but I’m prepared to make an educated guess that the summer holidays are when we take most of our photographs - let's get off the lounger and make them meaningful.