Tool or Toy?

As September draws to its conclusion, I’ve been surprised to realise it’s only been a couple of weeks since I got back from an all-too-brief holiday in Brittany.

Now I could bore you with my holiday snaps, but I’m only going to bore you with two. And they’re not even typical holiday snaps.

The real purpose of this post is to share some thoughts on a new addition to my kit bag, a Lumix GX9 camera (and two lenses). This isn’t so much a camera review, more a ‘why did I do that?’ sort of musing thing.

For My Pocket

For a long time (I’m talking years!) I’ve been in the market for a properly pocketable digital camera. Something I could chuck in my coat pocket, but with more versatility and better image quality than my iPhone – a Holy Grail for many photographers.

I looked at all kinds of options, from the eye-wateringly expensive Leica Q2/Q3, to the Ricoh GRIII, but nothing quite hit the spot. Then I started to notice the Panasonic Lumix GX-series of cameras. Again, not perfect, but as close to the right balance of versatility, quality and price as I was ever going to get.

Since I wanted a camera that could potentially find a use in client work as well as be a personal carry-around snapshot option (my Brittany holiday was starting to focus my decision-making too), Panasonic’s Lumix GX9 has the added benefit that it takes interchangeable lenses. I didn’t want the built-in zoom that many cameras in the pocket-friendly category have because I wanted the best quality I could get.

The only potential downside is that the GX9 is discontinued, and the GX-line seems to have reached the end of the… um… line. So a used camera was my only option. Even some of the lenses seem to be discontinued, such as the Panasonic 20mm f/1.7*, which is mounted on my camera in the photo.

That 20mm is, on this camera, equivalent to a 40mm lens on a regular SLR (I won’t explain the technicals here, just believe me). That’s my favourite focal length, so I was pleased to be able to pick up a genuine Ebay bargain.

For a second lens option, I bought a Lumix/Leica 15mm (30mm equivalent, see above) for wide angle shots. For this I bought new as the used prices weren’t all that attractive, and it is still available through retailers.

For Work

So how does this slot in with my work gear?

As a rule, I favour fixed lenses for my work – I just prefer the quality. However, even with two main camera bodies, this can leave me changing lenses rather more often than I’d like. So the GX9 with the wide lens on it gives me the option to do the general views at events without having to switch out the standard or long lenses mounted on my other two camera bodies.

There is compromise here though. The GX9 isn’t exactly a wizard of low-light photography, so I don’t use it where I need to crank up the ISO (sensor sensitivity) beyond 800. Things get awful noisy from 800 onwards, though the end-use of the pictures can mean low-light noise isn’t always a problem. The camera can also take an external flash, which can get me out of a fix in certain low-light situations.

The viewfinder is pretty dire too, but I knew that going in and actually I’ve got used to it. In most other respects, it’s a highly usable, capable camera – you just need to know how and when to use it.

For Fun

Beside the personal/holiday/family snap use, and to make the camera even more versatile, I also bought a lens adaptor which allows me to use some of my lovely Nikon lenses on this camera. Ok, so I lose a lot of the automation of the purpose-built lenses, but it’s another chance to play and experiment with other looks and styles. For example, I haven’t (yet) bought a longer lens for portraits for the GX9, but I have a Nikon-fit Voigtländer 40mm lens which becomes an 80mm lens on the GX9 – perfect for portraits! The adaptor adds value to the camera, as well as allowing me to use those lovely older lenses more often too.

For the Future?

I suppose my biggest fear is that one day this camera will die and I won’t be able to replace it easily. Modern digital cameras don’t always have the robustness of some film cameras. For last year’s trip to Brittany I took a very pocketable 35mm film camera. It was manufactured some time in the 1990s and yet it still functions. However, I can’t use that for work since no client wants to wait for film to be processed and scanned.

In an ideal world, Panasonic would bring out an updated version of this camera. Sensor technology keeps improving and this camera’s format (known as M43 or MFT, and pronounced ‘micro four thirds’) has a lot of advantages in terms of portability. If they’re thinking of doing this, they’re taking their sweet time about it.

For the time being this toy/tool will get use while it lives. If/when it dies, I’ll see if there’s a decent used replacement available, and keep going until I finally have to ditch the lenses. Maybe by then some perfect alternative will have emerged.

So keep an eye out for future posts featuring this dinky camera, in the meantime, here it is in all its cuteness alongside two of my favourite ‘holiday’ photos.

*Wherever the lens is listed new, it’s shown as Awaiting Stock. I suspect Panasonic ceased production some time ago.

Looking Back, Looking Forward

Yes, it’s that time of year when we all take a look in the rearview mirror to see what we’re leaving behind, simultaneously stepping on the gas, and accelerating into the year ahead. Or maybe we’re just trying to get away from zombies!

Assuming we’re not being chased out of town by the undead, I am of course building up (in a rather clumsy way) to my annual look at what has been and what is to come.

Except I’m not going to do that this time around, or at least not in quite as much depth as I normally would. I’m just going to say that 2023 had its highs and lows, and I have plans for 2024 which will evolve as I go.

At this point, I could sign off, wish you a merry Christmas and a happy New Year, and be done, but that wouldn’t be particularly satisfactory, would it? Maybe it would, but tough; you’re here now.

No, for this post I’m going to use broad brush strokes which I hope will also stimulate some thoughts within you, my current or potential clients.

Looking Back – 2023

While my stills work held up remarkably well, video demand seemed to drop off sharply. Instinct tells me clients are struggling to decide whether video is worth the investment. My advice is, talk to me! I’ll be happy to discuss your ideas and will be honest about your best options.

All too often I have clients come to me with only the vaguest idea that they want ‘some video of a thing’. But rather than allow me to guide them further, they either kill the project or go to someone who will happily turn their half-baked plans into a massive invoice. Don’t fall into that trap.

Even the stills work was a bit up and down this year. I’ve done pretty well, but I can tell businesses are struggling to see through the fog of wars, climate crisis, cost of living, and so on. Some are taking positive steps to keep their marketing on track, while others see marketing as a cost (bizarrely).

If you can’t stretch to video, keep using stills to keep your brand fresh and alive. They’re far more cost-effective than video and more adaptable, but they also need a clear direction (purpose and brief). Again, talk to me if you want to develop the germ of an idea.

Overall, 2023 has been ok. Its school report would read, “Could do better”.

A highlight of 2023 was a trip by rail and bike to Côte Sauvage, Brittany.

Looking Forward – 2024

So let’s gaze into the crystal ball.

I predict it’s going to be more of the same because the uncertainties that have troubled businesses since (to put it frankly) the Brexit vote of 2016 are not going to be resolved in the next few weeks or even months. Domestically we’re going to have a general election, so there will be plenty of people waiting to see how that shakes out. Which is frustrating because it could be yet another year of bumpiness. And who’s to say something else won’t come along in the meantime to create more market jitters?

My advice is, if you want to do something, do it. If you don’t, someone else will and they’ll steal all the credit (and potentially your clients).

Moving on from the pure business aspects of the year ahead, I’ve decided to have another look at something rather more ephemeral; the ethics of my business.

That isn’t to say that for the past 25 years as a freelance photographer, I’ve operated unethically but I feel we’re at a juncture where it’s not a bad idea to have a fresh think about how we all work and how we treat each other.

Towards the end of this year, I finally managed to update my Terms and Conditions (something I’d planned to do last Christmas!) and in 2024 I plan to add an Ethical Statement that will cover a wide range of aspects, from use of AI in images, to how I approach my personal project work.

This isn’t going to be easy as I don’t want to just put up a bunch of warm, fuzzy words and say job done. This will, in effect, put into text the moral rules by which I already work, but will also tie in some new issues which have emerged more recently.

There’s no harm in any business or organisation, however ethical they already say they are, spending a little time having a deep think about whether their ethical practices are up-to-date and whether they genuinely implement them. Perhaps every business should have an Ethical Statement against which their actions can be measured.

So look, I’m not going to make great proclamations about how I see the year ahead. It’s all too up in the air for that, but I have set out a couple of road signs.

At the risk of labouring my metaphors, I’m going to pull up at the side of the road to stretch my legs, before getting back in the car, stepping on the non-greenhouse-gas-emitting accelerator peddle and zooming off into the bright new dawn of 2024.

Thank you to every one of my clients, suppliers, friends, and colleagues who’ve made 2023 bearable. Let’s do the same, but more and better, in 2024.

Happy Christmas!

Tim

Who’s Afraid of False Reports?

What will you be doing this weekend? Don’t tell me, I don’t care because I’m going to be buried in Stephen Leslie’s book, just released, called Mostly False Reports.

If you don’t know Leslie’s work, I’m not talking about Virginia Woolf’s father (also a Stephen Leslie) who died, oh I dunno, quite a long time ago. No, this is London-based film director, screenwriter, and street photographer Stephen Leslie. He’s still very much alive.

I’m not a huge fan of street photography, so I’m very picky about who within that genre I follow or take note of. Leslie is one of them. Dougie Wallace and Matt Stuart also spring to mind (I realise there are no female photographers in there so if someone can point me their way I’d love to see that perspective too).

For the life of me, I can’t remember exactly how Leslie’s work showed up on my radar, probably through Instagram, but however it was, my interest in his work was cemented through his YouTube channel where he posts excellent if occasional videos focusing on photographic themes or specific photographers. His knowledge of photography, its practitioners, and history is impressive, but he rarely speaks of his own work.

What Leslie does with his images, exemplified in his latest book, is to compose made-up narratives around the photos he’s taken. The images already benefit from Leslie’s often witty, observational style, but the additional twist of his text, usually in the style of a very short story, delivers yet another layer. Not all the narratives are entirely false, so the reader is left to consider what is true and what is false.

Others will be better equipped to critique this book with more skill than I possess, but without wishing to appear arse-licky I think it’s brilliant. The photography is quirky and entertaining, even thought-provoking (as only the best street photography is). It has a high-quality feel, the design is simple and elegant and the effort and attention to detail are clear.

So you do your thing this weekend, I’m going to be curled up with this book until I’ve been through it cover-to-cover (and possibly back again).

If you’d like your own copy, you’ll have to hope it goes on general sale at some point because so far it’s only been available through the Kickstarter campaign which brought it to fruition. There’s no point asking to buy my copy, it’s not for sale! EDIT: Contact Stephen directly to order your copy. Scroll to the bottom of the page on this link for his contact form.

Have a great weekend

Bye Bye 2022

What. A. Year!

It’s fair to say 2022 has been a bastard. I don’t even want to list the reasons here because it’s too depressing, we all know what I mean.

So perhaps it’s unsurprising if I feel a little guilty that I’m sitting here in a (relatively) warm home, with food in the cupboards while I look back on what has been an unexpectedly successful year for me. But feeling guilty isn’t constructive, so I need to do more in 2023 to give and give back where it can help others. I did some of this in 2022 and hope to do more 2023.

2022’s Achievements (and disappointments)

Before writing this, I checked what goals I’d set for 2022 to see if I’d achieved any of them. It turns out, I didn’t set much in the way of targets, but there was a vague hint in that post about something big.

That ‘something big’ was getting my book What Happened Here designed and launched in time for Photo|Frome in June, which I just about managed. Sadly, for the official launch I caught covid and had to bail out, which didn’t help initial sales of the book. However, it’s been going steadily ever since and even my local bookshop were keen to stock it! So now people can buy online from me, or walk into Winstone’s Hunting Raven in Frome and purchase a softcover copy in-person.

Photo|Frome 2023

Photo|Frome 2022 was a huge success, and while I did what I could to help with setting up, not long after launch I was under quarantine so missed most of the festival. We’re already working hard to make Photo|Frome 2023 happen, but finding cash for an event in the teeth of a recession will be no small task. If you’re able to help, do drop me a line!

What Else in 2023

My hope is that having diversified into video during lockdown, this recession might not hit me as hard as previous ones have. Businesses actively wanting to ride out the storm will need a combination of stills and video for their marketing. Being able to offer both is a huge advantage. Of course I can’t predict how much it’ll help, but I’m glad I have the additional skill now.

And Finally…

I’m going to leave you with a smattering of 2022 images, all from personal projects and trips made this year. They illustrate my key photographic interests when not on commission.

It just remains for me to wish you all a super Christmas and all the very best for the coming year. Let’s hope that in 2023 Putin is deposed, the Iranian government is replaced by people who understand civility and China stops acting like a petulant toddler.

Oh and thank you, in what ever way you’ve supported me over the past 12 months. It doesn’t go unnoticed!

2020 and BEYOND!

Often at the close of a year I’ll put together an annual review, but 2019 was different in that it was the close of a decade.

So why didn’t I do a review of the decade? Simply put, I ran out of time. After three months of Bunker conversion, the end-rush to get it ready to coincide with the looming termination date of my tenancy at The Old Church School (eight years there!) PLUS client work PLUS admin PLUS Christmas, I had to make some harsh decisions about what I could and could not fit in.

In fact I was so busy, it barely sank in until quite late in December that we were in fact staring down the barrel of the 2020s. By the time I’d twigged, it was too late to put anything meaningful together. Sorry about that.

However, I’m now fully set up in the new space and although it’s early days, so far it’s working very well and I’m proud of what I accomplished in renovating what was a tatty-looking concrete structure, turning it into a genuinely usable, some may say attractive, workspace. I’m particularly chuffed that the only part of the project I didn’t tackle was the electrical installation. I may be insane, but I’m not mad! My general DIY skills have definitely improved with this project though, just don’t ask me to convert your shed/bunker/garage for you.

Returning to the subject of the turn of the decade, perhaps it’s a shame I didn’t get to look back and reflect, but I actually feel more in the mood for looking forward. After all, my photography of ten years ago is nothing like the work I’m doing now, and even further removed from where I want to take it in the coming years.

Through this year and the next few years, I’ll be working hard to build the fine art projects and prints side of my business (takeagander.co.uk) while continuing to invest in my corporate work, which still represents the bulk of my business.

The launch (see previous post) of the open air exhibition of panels from What Happened Here was a great end to the year and an indicator of the kind of outcome I’m looking for with my personal work – getting it out there and noticed and looking for new opportunities to shoot fresh work and see where it takes me.

With the corporate work I will of course keep developing my style, skills and services, but this relies in part on the personal projects which help me develop new practices outside of client time; I don’t believe in using my clients as guinea pigs for experiments.

What I’m aiming for is more of the same as in recent years, only bigger and better; my corporate work feeding my ability to shoot personal projects, with income from fine art prints and other uses of that work building up into it’s own sizeable income. I have plans, some vaguer than others, but plans nonetheless.

So if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to sign off now and start putting those plans into practice. In the meantime, do watch this space for news on forthcoming deals on fine art prints – I hope to announce something big soon.

Incredible Legacy

A while back I pledged to support the publication of John Downing’s book, LEGACY, through a Kickstarter campaign run by Bluecoat Press.

I’d previously supported Jim Mortram’s hard-hitting social documentary book Small Town Inertia in the same way and since John’s book required a ‘mere’ £8,000.00 to come to fruition, I thought it would be a great opportunity to see the photojournalism of a man who spent 50 years covering everything from Royalty to tragedy, the everyday to the extraordinary in a single book.

In the event the campaign smashed the target, raising a staggering £31,836.00, raised by 495 backers, which is testament to the level of respect and interest in his work.

My copy arrived today, and I was thrilled to realise I’d forgotten that my pledge level included a signed print of The Beatles taken at the press launch of Sgt Pepper in 1967. I think there will be a special place in my office for that print once it’s framed.

It’s almost pointless me saying much about John’s work; I’m genuinely not worthy to comment. You have to see the book to realise what a towering talent he has. His photos, regardless of what they show, always demonstrate an absolute command over his skills.

Whether the photos are of breathtaking, tragic or everyday subjects, there’s always an extra ingredient in his handling of the subject before him which just leaves you breathless. The sheer range of stories he has covered is astonishing enough, and far too many to list here.

My best advice is to buy a copy. Even if you have no interest in photography or photojournalism, buy it. You will learn something about history, about the human condition and you never know, you might learn something about yourself too.

Could the fair be more fun?

Every few years I’ll give in to temptation and pay a visit to the biannual Frome Wessex Camera Club camera fair held at the Cheese and Grain in Frome (you know, that place the Foo Fighters did a surprise gig in once; you must know where I mean).

I’m not a natural fan of camera fairs; I think I got over the thrill of standing in a room full of expensive gear I couldn’t afford as a shop assistant some time around 1989.

However the evening before the fair was on, a friend called and asked if I fancied meeting him there. The peculiar thing was, up to the point of that phone call I was oblivious the event was on.

At first I was reticent, but he’d only recently asked if I wanted to meet at another camera fair and I’d turned him down for that one. To avoid looking like a curmudgeonly hermit, I sad yes this time.

I think the last time I’d been to the FWCC fair was 2017, and 2013 before that, so I knew this was a risky place for me and my wallet to be.

So rather than having gear acquisition as my primary plan, I decided to use it as an excuse not only to see my friend, but also to test out and shoot some Ilford Delta 400 film rated at 1600. I’d shot some during my recent trip to Bologna, rated at 400, but I wanted to find the parameters of what this film can do and the flat, poor lighting in the Cheese and Grain is the perfect scenario for this. I thought I might get some interesting photos too.

Well the exercise was a useful one, even if the resulting images aren’t exactly dynamite. At least I know now this is a brilliantly versatile film, but for some reason I couldn’t ‘get my eye in’ so the photos are what they are. I’m posting them here to shame myself into doing better next time.

Of course you can go in with a wedge of cash and blow the lot on some very lovely gear – my friend did exactly that. In fact he picked up some genuine, if pricey, bargains alongside some very cheap non-pricey bargains, and the fair usually has something for any budget.

Even I picked up a fun little camera, thanks to my friend having loads of cash on him and me paying him back after. I know, I cheated.

My bargain was a red Konica C35 EF3 for £15, flash not working. It turned out that when the seller said the flash didn’t work, what he meant was that you could switch the flash on IF you wanted the camera to get fantastically hot/ you wanted the smell of burning electronics up your nose.

No problem though, I can use the camera without flash and it’ll allow me to play more in my ‘down time’. Or on a really cold day I can turn the flash on and warm my hands by the resulting electrical fire.

Now what I’ve been building up to very gingerly in this article is my impression that the fair was a lot quieter this time around than I’ve seen it in previous years. Fewer dealers, fewer visitors. I’m sure there used to be more of both and a lot more gear to tempt the canny bargain-hunter. It just felt a little hollowed-out.

Perhaps I got there too late in the morning for the real rush, but I got the impression it had been a little on the quiet side from the start.

In the past there were people selling historical prints, but none this time around. By way of compensation there was a table laid out with beautiful prints and cards for sale by contemporary photographers Roy Hunt and Martin Wade, who both work in traditional film (thumbs up from me), but again I got the impression they’d not been overwhelmed with sales that morning.

It would have been good to have seen more in the way of photo books on offer, or film and film processing equipment as this is enjoying such a resurgence amongst younger photographers. I did spot some film, but it was tucked out of site under a dealer’s table.

The one issue the fair does suffer is the almost exclusively older white male patronage. Yes, I fall into that category, but neither gender nor age balance would have been improved by my absence.

Another challenge the fair must be facing is that where film cameras used to take up a lot of table space, they’re becoming harder to source at a reasonable price. Some have reached collectible status and prices have gone through the roof. It’s also inevitable that as years pass, more of the old mechanical and electronic film cameras will simply die of old age.

The risk with the fair is that unless it attracts a younger and more diverse crowd, its dealers and visitors will also die of old age.

Perhaps a help stall where someone starting out could get free impartial advice about which kit to go for, and even guidance as to which dealer has what they need. More books, contemporary prints, an exhibition or perhaps a competition or other promotional events would help get people through the door.

For the fair to continue and thrive, Frome Wessex Camera Club will to have find ways of improving their reach. There needs to be better marketing to younger people, and better marketing over all since I was blissfully ignorant of the event until my friend called me. In fact as I exited the event via the cafe I bumped into a couple of friends who’d cycled in for breakfast. Even sitting in the room right next to the fair, they were oblivious to what was on in the main hall.

I’ve had a bit of a flurry of requests for work experience from Frome College students doing photography courses, so I assume the interest is there, but I didn’t see anyone of college age and I was there for a good couple of hours.

Photography is all about imagination, and this event definitely needs an injection of that to stop it becoming, like a broken old Zenith E camera, beyond worth saving.

Note: The next fair is 19th April 2020.

Cairncross Review Review (Probably part 1)

I’ve been trying to wade through the results from the Cairncross Review into the future of high quality journalism in the UK. I’m not very good at analysing dense, copious amounts of data, but I care and want to try to see where local and regional newspapers are headed (apart from down the plughole). 

What is striking is the content of some of the submissions to the call for evidence which are interesting (ish) reads, especially in the sense that they are a weird mix of kernels of truth and self-deceiving, massive pants-on-fire lies. 

Check out this particular example from the now defunct Johnston Press, written by the then CEO David King: 

“Legacy print publishers have struggled to adapt to the structural changes in the way content is consumed, limited by their geographic publishing models, falling ad revenues, circulation volumes and the need to increase cover prices. In some cases, constraints on investment have been exacerbated by the need to service legacy debt and closed defined benefit pension liabilities, as is the case at Johnston Press.

Yet despite this, to date the traditional publishers have sought to continue to invest in journalism, and remain by far the greatest investors in quality content creation, despite the need to reduce costs. The tech giants, who are the facilitators between audience and content, enjoy the revenue from surfacing this content while not contributing to its cost. These tech giants also control which content the audience sees and which audience a publisher can access. Moreover, they are largely unregulated.” 

There’s so much to unpick on so many levels, all packed into just two paragraphs. Bear in mind also that within JP’s submission, their “facts and figures” don’t examine anything earlier than 2008, handily side-stepping the fact that it was their greed and incompetence since the early 1990s which crippled the pension scheme and ultimately led to the collapse of the entire business in 2018. As for “sought to continue to invest in journalism,” in all known universes, this stretches credulity far beyond snapping point. 

Beyond JP’s corporate culpability it is too easy to dismiss the ‘traditional’ press as just a victim of progress, but whatever the causes, that which is displacing it does not have the same accountability, nor does it have any pretence to uphold democracy. All this is very dangerous indeed. 

Also, these changes in local and regional papers is already affecting the nationals who traditionally relied on a steady flow of fresh, diverse talent from the news rooms and photography pools of the local/regional press. We are now well beyond the point where people without independent means could afford to work for national papers given the collapse in wages and freelance shift rates. The majority of voices we hear are those who can afford to work for the fun of it and their viewpoints largely reflect their relatively privileged positions.

I fear with the likes of Newsquest using the same insane business model as JP, this review and its conclusions have come too late to do anything meaningful beyond arranging the funeral for an industry which has no reason (beyond mis-management) to be a victim of progress or change. The Government is supposed to make some kind of response later this year. Who’s going to put money on that response being anything more than laying on some warm sausage rolls and cheap wine for the wake?

2019?

Happy New Year everyone! I hope you all had a peaceful Christmas and an enjoyable New Year.

I’m starting 2019 with an apology; normally by mid December I’d have posted a round-up of my year, but between shooting and delivering pictures for clients, getting my quarterly VAT return finalised (an annual Christmas joy for me) and having to lose my laptop for a week while a replacement battery was fitted, I just ran out of time. So yes, sorry about that. I know you were all looking forward to that.

To make up for this I’m going to post some thoughts on the year just gone and the year to come, because while I’m looking forward to some interesting commissions and new personal projects, I’m also raring to get going on the next stage of the Saxonvale project on its journey to becoming a book. Heaven knows if that will get finished this year, but I’m determined to make serious headway.

2018 got off to a pretty exciting start. I posted an article on Petapixel about my motivation for shooting film again. The response to that was pretty astonishing and led to me being interviewed by Bill Manning for the Studio C-41 podcast; the first time I’ve been cast in a pod! That generated further interest and I’ve been following the podcast ever since.

If you’re not already aware, Studio C-41 is a podcast (now also a vlog on YouTube) all about film, its resurgence, the cameras, film manufacturers and so on. Based in Atlanta, Georgia, this podcast has gone from strength to strength and has interviewed some of the most important names in film photography today (yours truly excepted). If you’re into C-41 (or E6 or black and white), check out C-41 on any of the links above.

It’s also going to be an interesting year for photography in other ways. I see Matt Smith (the actor formerly known as Dr Who) is playing Robert Mapplethorpe in a new film which I believe is being released in the USA this year. That should be interesting and probably eye-boggling, but I’m also wondering what’s happening with the biopic of Don McCullin, reported to be played by Tom Hardy, which was press-released in 2016. Hopefully we’ll hear more on that this year.

In January 2018 I was pleased to be able to make the launch of Niall McDiarmid’s Town to Town exhibition at the Martin Parr Foundation in Bristol. I’m slightly in awe of Niall’s street portraits, and really thrilled that the MPF has been set up in Bristol, so finally there is a quality gallery and photographic resource not based in London.

This year I’m really hoping I can get along to a few more exhibitions at the Martin Parr Foundation and further afield. There really is nothing like getting to see photographs in the real world as opposed to online.

And in between all my corporate communications work, I’ll be beavering away on those personal projects which you’ll see slowly revealing (unraveling?) on Instagram. I’ve started Unsigned (see my Instagram), a series of images of torn-off posters, stickers and street signage which creates inadvertent art. I have no idea how long or big this project will get, but I feel it’s only just started. Rather like 2019, except I have a fair idea how long that will be, just no idea how big.

Get Shorty

Even this short blog post is longer than the super small Canon EF 40mm f/2.8 lens, my absolutely favourite lens. It’s tiny, sometimes referred to as a pancake lens, but so sharp you could cut your thumb on the images it produces, yet costs just £200.00 new. I got mine for £90.00 secondhand.

It’s been the most-used lens through my Saxonvale project, but whenever I get the opportunity I use it for corporate photo sessions too, including portraits as well as for fly-on-the-wall work.

And in my experience it’s tough! I once slipped and fell and landed with my camera (40mm mounted) between me and a mud bank. I heard a click which I thought was the lens mechanism breaking. It wasn’t, it was the sound of one of my ribs fracturing! That hurt for a few weeks, but the lens was fine.

I wanted to write this post after seeing Neil Turner’s post about his favourite lens. Go here to find out which one he reaches for most.

So if I’m ever on a job for you and I put this dinky lens on my camera, check out the smile on my face.