My grandfather – on my father’s side – was fascinated with the possibilities of photography in the early 1900’s. A lowly merchant seaman from the East End of London infirm with TB for long periods, he created his own pinhole camera and processing chemicals. With great ingenuity he was able to explore the wonders of photography and recreate the ‘magic’ of the captured moment. Unfortunately, the fragility of the final images meant that none survive. My father however had been inspired. Acquiring a bellows camera (exchanged for 20 cigarettes in a defeated Germany in 1945) he also fell in love with photography, documenting working family life and local events through the late 1900’s.
As a consequence, I grew up with a darkroom. Seeing the magic of a gradually appearing black-and-white photo in a tray of developer, in an era where every shutter-press was an expense, learning how to optimally frame a subject, and how to make the best use of available light. These gave me the foundations from which I could explore my own style of photography.
What excited and thrilled me most was the ability a camera gave you to capture a passing moment in time. Rather than the more studied and framed photos of my father, I looked for ‘The Decisive Moment’, as coined by Henri-Cartier Bresson, who’s genius became a huge early inspiration: “To me, photography is the simultaneous recognition in a fraction of a second the significance of an event, as well as the precise organisation the forms that give that event its proper expression.”
In my own pursuit of ‘the decisive moment’, it was that instant when everything in frame: lighting, context, subject, form, colour and the relationship of all these came together to offer a narrative of beauty or poignancy that captivated the viewer. Sounds easy but it takes so much practice. To quote H-CB once more: “Your first 10,000 photographs are your worst!” In my own practice I’ve looked to apply the decisive moment to capturing the world around us as well as to street photography. That moment when travelling through a landscape for a split second everything looks perfect – light and colour and form and subject all come together to create a narrative only an image can convey. Recognising those moments is the greatest joy.
Yet the thrill of photography is not just creation. It gives back. To quote another huge influence in Joel Meyerowitz, a New York street photographer: “Once you have a camera in your hand, you have a license to see, seeing is what photography is all about. You learn about yourself, and the world you live in.”
Learning about yourself and your relationship to the world is as big a part of the reward of photography as the images you create. I truly hope you enjoy the images posted here as much as I’ve enjoyed capturing them.
