For Grandad
To raise money for the Alzheimer's Society, brothers Danny and Ben are doing one big thing that they really hope their Grandad will remember...
Tag: large format
Shipshape
Happy New Year, one and all! I trust that you’ve had a peaceful and enjoyable festive break? At the start of 2015, after a long time…
Then I must make your portrait…
I told this story a few days ago on my favourite social medium, Instagram. It received a great response, so I thought I’d tell it…
Jude, Glencoe
The intimidating valley sides of Glencoe, Scotland, form the backdrop to ten seconds in the life of my younger son, wrapped up warm on a…
The Midges that Died for Art
Last weekend — what with it being the summer holidays an’ all — I thought it would be fun to concoct an impromptu camping/photography expedition to Scotland with my…
On the Telly
There’s excitement afoot but more on that later in the month. In the meantime, whet your appetite with this short clip broadcast last night by…
Portrait of a Roundabout
Swan, Billy Mill and Cowgate — when strung together, these names could perhaps be mistaken for the title of an obscure new advertising agency. Instead, if you…
My New Ambulance
It’s been a curve-curve ball of a week… A while back you may remember that I was inspired by the work and adventures of Ian…
Skye Glass
Two weeks ago, Julian Calverley invited me on an impromptu visit to the Isle of Skye, a stunningly beautiful wilderness in the far north of Scotland.…
New Course Charted
In allowing myself a bit of thinking space, it’s been a over month since I last posted — a month that has seen the culmination of…
'Foot of the Castle Keep', the first successful ambrotype made under my own steam...[/caption]
The plate will always be very precious to me as it signifies a moment I'll never forget; the coming together of so many factors and a whole future being unlocked.
It was the first photographic object I'd created with my hands for a very long time without a computer in sight; the first time since my teenage years when I used to tirelessly process film and make prints in my bedroom.
That Sunday, I couldn't stop making plates until the light finally faded...
[caption id="attachment_1960" align="aligncenter" width="548"]
Kath (Half Plate Ambrotype)[/caption]
Decisions, Decisions...
In returning to my own photography, I chose wet plate collodion for several reasons.
After working as a digital printmaker and retoucher so intensively for the last fourteen years, I wanted to pursue a route that didn't involve computers. Not only that but one that didn't require the processing of film or, furthermore, reliance on a lab.
In short, I knew I wanted to produce truly unique — even unreproducible — photographic objects that I'd crafted at every stage with my own hands.
Anybody seeing my new work would know that it was both special and unusual in the modern era.
That pretty much left one route to pursue, the process invented by Frederick Scott Archer in 1851 during the very birth of photography.
The Magician...?
To start with a camera, a piece of glass and a box of chemicals is one thing. To end up with a positive image fixed on that piece of glass is quite something else.
Digital scans of plates posted online as JPEGs can give you an idea but that really is no substitute for seeing them in the flesh.
They carry entrancing — almost holographic — qualities leaving me with the sense that I've captured a slice of time, that I'm actually holding some kind of time capsule.
Last weekend, I was working with some friends near the Fish Quay in North Shields. At one point, as I was preparing my next plate, I could hear some chattering voices.
"Look, Mam, it's a magician!" said one of the girls.
As I stood there in my work apron with my quirky setup around me, I could understand why they came to that initial conclusion.
"Don't be silly!" replied the mother, "He's not a magician, he's a...he's a..."
I helped her out by telling them I was a photographer but, in a way, that the girls were right, I was also a magician of sorts.
I asked them where they were going.
"We're going over there to get fish and chips for our tea."
"OK..." I said and showed them a blank piece of glass.
"...stop by on your way back and I'll show you this same piece of glass again."
They seemed excited and intrigued. Sure enough, they stopped off with their fish and chips in hand and I showed them what I'd done to the glass.
"See, Mam, he IS a magician!" they gleefully told their mother who looked at me and smirked with a slight air of concession.
What a treat, I thought, to find myself in a position where I might be perceived to be a magician; such an old process capturing the imagination of children.
What did I show them? This portrait of Paul, the man who'd sold me the camera...
[caption id="attachment_1961" align="aligncenter" width="548"]
Paul, the man who sold me my 1905 half plate camera (Half Plate Ambrotype)[/caption]
Doors opening...
As I come to the end of writing this post, I'm excited for the week ahead.
New doors have been opening ever since I started showing my first plates just two weeks ago.
People have already been asking if they can have their portraits made like that too and I'm thrilled to have received an invitation from