THE BEST CAMERA ...

I dread to think how many words have been written on camera and associated equipment reviews. The photography industry is constantly reworking camera and lens models. It feels as if the pressure is always on to upgrade and add more and more pixels. The magazine and online journals seem to profligate this message (of course fueled by the advertising revenue from said equipment companies). It is easy to get caught in a spiral of ‘if only I had this lens my images would be better’.

Many photographers will tell you that they are asked more about the kit they use than the creative process. However haven’t we got this the wrong way round? It is not the photographers’ ability to utilize the equipment as part of the creative process that makes the image, not the equipment per se.

If you are always carrying a full kit bag you may find that your creative decisions are overtaken by equipment decisions, what lens to use, tripod, filters, flash before you even get onto thinking about camera settings and eventually post-processing decisions.

What happens when you don’t have your fully kitted out camera bag with you … for whatever reason you have to improvise. Here enters the camera phone.

“The best camera is the one you have with you”

I was first aware of this quote by Chase Jarvis an American lifestyle photographer. He was an earlier adopter of plugging phones to take images and published a book of his iPhone images in 2009.

We are seeing an ever-greater proliferation of images taken on phones. For many people this is the only way that they take and consume images.

However some photographers will dismiss the camera phone as not being a proper camera, and denigrate the camera phone for only being able to produce selfies for social media feeds.

But don’t be too quick to dismiss the camera phone, as there are some very strong projects that have been created with just these devices. At The Photography Show in March I saw talks by several photographers talking about their camera phone work.

Jo Bradford is an art photographer based on Dartmoor, her work is based around cameraless photography. In January 2015 she was on maternity leave and wanted to keep taking photographs. She started a 365 project based around Dartmoor where she lives. Taking her two small children with her meant that she could not carry her full kit as well as a supply of baby food, nappies etc. So she used her camera phone, posting one image a day to Instagram. The project gained momentum and ended with a following of 56,000 followers. The project ‘A Love Letter to Dartmoor’ features the landscape of Dartmoor and every image is taken on an iPhone. By being freed from equipment worries, the use of the iPhone allowed Bradford to concentrate on the creative process of taking the images.

Julian Calverley is an advertising photographer. He started using his iPhone for recce shots when scouting locations. The ease of using the phone plus its ability to log GPS coordinates meant that a whole area could be scouted quicker. He found that the focal length of the iPhone camera was similar to the lens for his large format. Over time the iPhone images become their own project and now have been published and exhibited. Calverley says that there is something about the spontaniety of the little device that freed up his picture taking. More than once he had revisited a scene with his large format kit but could never match the image taken on the phone.

All three of these photographers have been able to use their photographic skills when switching to the camera phone. Their images, regardless of the camera taken on, show considered understanding of the basics of photography.

The camera phone has alleviated some of the technical decisions over kit and allowed the photographers to concentrate on taking photographs and being creative. The camera phone images have become projects in their own right, developed their own direction and impetus, separate to their regular photographic output.

So is it not about what camera you have; it is all about using the camera you have to hand? Or is that just an excuse to be lazy…

 

This post originally appeared on the WeAreOCA blog.

SKINNINGROVE - CHRIS KILLIP

I stumbled across this film on Twitter last week. I was at home ill in bed and normally I save links to watch at a later stage. However this one I watched all the way through to the end and then I watched it again.  The images have haunted me ever since.  Being familiar with the work of Chris Killip, I wanted to explore the work further as he is a photographer that I often recommend to students.In the 1980s, British photographer Chris Killip photographed an isolated fishing community at Skinningrove, North Yorkshire.  Skinningrove is nestled on the coast between Whitby and Redcar.  It is one of those places that unless you were heading for it, you would never find it.

Over a period of years Killip photographed the community however only four of the images from the series were ever published.  If you are familiar with Chris Killip’s work In Flagrante you may recognize them.

In the film Killip talks about the images from Skinningrove, his relationship with the community and the people that he photographed.  What we gain from the work is a wonderful sense of place and its inhabitants.  Look past the faded fashions of punk rock and the cars of the time, and the images become far more than a historical document.  Combined with the commentary from the film we have a sense of the personal history of the participants and the images are put in context.

In the 1980s, British photographer Chris Killip photographed an isolated fishing community at Skinningrove, North Yorkshire.  Skinningrove is nestled on the coast between Whitby and Redcar.  It is one of those places that unless you were heading for it, you would never find it.

Over a period of years Killip photographed the community however only four of the images from the series were ever published.  If you are familiar with Chris Killip’s work In Flagrante you may recognize them.

In the film Killip talks about the images from Skinningrove, his relationship with the community and the people that he photographed.  What we gain from the work is a wonderful sense of place and its inhabitants.  Look past the faded fashions of punk rock and the cars of the time, and the images become far more than a historical document.  Combined with the commentary from the film we have a sense of the personal history of the participants and the images are put in context.

This context is both geographical in that the lay of land is clearly shown; and personal as the stories of the people portrayed are told.  Families and friendships, rites of passage are all told through the series.  Photographed over a period of three years the work builds up a resonance that only this type of time period can give.  The inhabitants get to know the photographer and get used to him being around.  It is this working relationship between the subjects and the photographer that creates the ease within his images.

 

For my own interest I wanted to place Skinningrove, the North East is not an area that I am that familiar with.  I searched on Google maps, having found it, I felt further intrigued, zoomed in and picked up the yellow figure to use the Street View function to explore the village. Views from Killip’s images were quickly spotted, now in colour rather then black and white. Little had seemed to change; the boats were still kept on the beach giving evidence that fishing was still part of the way of life here.

On my way back through the village, a group of people was spied on Chapel Street, a road that leads from the boat sheds. Excitedly I zoomed in hoping to see if I could spot resemblances to those in Killip’s images but this time the faces are not visible due to the blurring of the Google privacy policy. I left Google Street View lacking any more knowledge then I had gained from the series of Killip’s.  I felt disappointed at not being able to see the faces of those pictured and it confirmed that this was the exact power of Killip’s images.  It is his engagement with those he photographs.  By using a large plate camera Killip was in no way discrete in taking his images.  His are not surreptitious photographs but blatant and obvious in having the consent of those he is photographing.

For students this type of engagement gained over such a long time frame is hard to factor in with the pace of assignment deadlines. However, there is much to be gained from having a default location or subject matter that you can use. You may photograph the same group of people or it could be a familiar location, the work could feature just abstract details but where each time you photograph different elements are revealed in the work.The key is a subject matter that you can return to time and time again. Having this default can be a backbone to your personal work, allowing you to try out new techniques, equipment or ideas.

Chris Killip currently has work on display at Tate Britain (until 28 September 2014).

Watch the film here

Image Credits: Chris Killip, Skinningrove; A film by Michael Almereyda

This post originally appeared in full on the WeAreOCA blog.

IF YOUR MEMORY IS NOT GOOD ENOUGH ...

I read with interest Eva Wiseman’s article in The Observer on Sunday 22 December 2013 titled “Our addiction to photographing our lives”.

There has been a long fascination with photography and its function in relation to memory.  In my academic writing I have investigated both the process of remembering and that of forgetting.

This article follows on the general theme of recent discussions around vernacular photography.  Many of these view our ‘addiction to photographing our lives’ in a negative way.  In this article Wiseman quotes the study of Dr Linda Henkel titled ‘Point-and-Shoot Memories: The Influence of Taking Photos on Memory for a Museum Tour” published in the journal of Psychological Science.

The study abstract informs us:

“Two studies examined whether photographing objects impacts what is remembered about them. Participants were led on a guided tour of an art museum and were directed to observe some objects and to photograph others. Results showed a photo-taking-impairment effect: If participants took a photo of each object as a whole, they remembered fewer objects and remembered fewer details about the objects and the objects’ locations in the museum than if they instead only observed the objects and did not photograph them.”

 It is from this passage that Wisemen takes her article.  Her argument is that the photograph stops us from remembering.  What Henkel calls the ‘photo-taking-impairment effect’. Reading this I am referred back to “Camera Lucida” where Barthes describes how the photograph

“… actually blocks the memory, quickly become a counter-memory.  One day, some friends were talking about their childhood memories: they had any number: but I, who had just been looking at my old photographs, had none left.”

 

The photograph has become cast as the evil memory blocker.  But before you throw your camera phone apps to the wall there is more to this.  Henkel’s study investigated further and this is not mentioned in Wiseman’s article.  The abstract continues:

 

“However, when participants zoomed in to photograph a specific part of the object, their subsequent recognition and detail memory was not impaired, and, in fact, memory for features that were not zoomed in on was just as strong as memory for features that were zoomed in on. This finding highlights key differences between people’s memory and the camera’s “memory” and suggests that the additional attentional and cognitive processes engaged by this focused activity can eliminate the photo-taking-impairment effect.”

 

This second part of the abstract describes  ‘zooming in’.  For us photographers there is hope for our memories, provided we work in the abstract.  As a photography teacher, I have always urged students to get closer to the subject.  The words of Robert Capa were written in permanent pen on the whiteboard in my classroom:

 

“If your pictures aren’t good enough, you’re not close enough.”

 

(Rather less frequently do I alert students to the fact the he lived and died by this maxim!)

So it seems that in order to preserve (and possibly enhance) the memory recall capability from your photographs you should explore the subject.

Get in close, abstract, distort, look up, look in, look across, look down and whatever you do, leave plenty for the imagination to play with.  What’s stopping you?

Postscript:

An article in The Guardian from 10th December 2013 challenges the research further.

http://www.theguardian.com/news/reality-check/2013/dec/10/does-taking-photographs-ruin-your-memory

 

This post first appeared on WeAreOCA blog.

HEADLESS WOMEN

On Wednesday 27th November 2013, an image appeared in The New York Times that caused wide scale debate in the US.  However, on this side of the Atlantic there barely was a mummer.  In fact, if I hadn’t been forwarded the piece it would have passed me by unnoticed.

The front page on 27th November featured an image of a female torso.  The head is cut off – the frame cuts through her neck. She is placed at a slight angle with a garment covering part of her chest.  On one side her shoulder is exposed and the garment covers part of her breast with the top most part of the areola exposed.  Above this a scar, and above this, on the indentation of the shoulder, is a Star of David tattoo.

The story is about a push to screen for breast cancer in Israel.  A World Health Organisation report has identified Israel as having one of the highest rates of breast cancer in the world.  Jews from central and eastern European regions have a high risk of carrying genetic mutations for both breast and ovarian cancer.

The image gives us this message clearly:

Woman – shape of body

Jew – Star of David tattoo

Scar – medical procedure/injury

Breast – relating to this part of the body

Black – death

The image is stark.  It strikes you, the viewer boldly.  The tattoo, scar and partly exposed nipple vie for your attention.  There is no face, no eye contact with the subject; she is anonymous.  We are seeing an image that confronts us with the evidential scars of both the subject’s medical history and religion.

The image does have other connotations, it references on many levels, and it has struck a nerve in the USA.  For the readership of the New York Times, it caused a reaction strong enough for many to voice an opinion and to warrant a follow up piece in the paper, explaining more about the image and a comment from the subject of the photograph.

Many of the later comments defend the image choice but even within the New York Times newsroom the image provoked discussion on its use.

So what is it, in this image; that has provoked the reaction.

 For some the reaction could be around the tattoo, the use of religious iconography which some refer to in the comments as branding and a reminder of the atrocities of the Holocaust.    For others it could be the hint of the breast that is seen, but the photograph hardly seems to be pornographic.   Is it the scar itself, the cutting of tissue in the breast that causes the sensitivity.

Or is it caused by the lack of identity with the subject.  We can’t see her; there is no facial recognition.  Compare this to images of women that stand out as prolific photographs, three spring to mind straight away – Lange’s Migrant Mother, Nick Ut’s image of Kim Phuc from Vietnam and Steve McCurry’s Afghan Girl.   All feature ‘ordinary’ women not celebrities, whose visual identities have become part of our history.   They all gaze out of the frame whether it is directly or indirectly and we can picture their faces clearly in our minds.

Another image appeared on the front page of the New York Times five days earlier and gives us further insight into the reaction.   This time the story is on the shooting of Michelle O’Connell.

Like the previous image, there is no face for us to identify her; the dismemberment is to save the viewers from the gore of her untimely death.    The frame again cuts through the neck as her body lays twisted on the ground.  There are guns by her side, providing a clue to how she died.  At the top of the frame, a bag, purse and shoes, which along with the carpet provide the evidence of a domestic setting.  To the right hand side a figure stands, the legs and shoes evident.

Again this image has drawn strong comment for its use on the front page.  For some of the commentators the two images, within the same week have proved too much.

In an image saturated world, where death and destruction are commonplace it would seem that it is headless women that cause consternation.

This post originally appeared on the WeAreOCA blog.