Thursday 26 November 2015

Making pictures under pressure - in which I partake in a photoshoot.




I was involved in a photoshoot last week.

The lovely team at Subject Matter Photographic Art are gathering information about their artists, and wanted some video footage of me in action.

So obviously I had to look the part.

I got my hair dyed and threw off my old anorak in favour of a duffle coat that blended more gently into the autumn landscape.

"You got your hair dyed?" ........ I hear you say. 




NO OF COURSE I DIDN'T GET MY HAIR DYED!

JUST FIBBING.

WHO DO YOU THINK I AM?


But someone not far from here who shall remain nameless agreed that it looks less grey for 'having been treated', and if they can't tell the difference then its a very good thing that I didn't spend £100 and half a day of my life for the privilege.




 So what is it like making photos when being filmed?

Very strange.

Very inhibiting.

And very unnatural.

But it is interesting that the photos that I made bear a lot of resemblance the the kind of images that I normally make in more relaxed circumstances. Only a little less predictable.

So I shall share a few with you now.

All taken at Hawkwood, my suburban sanctuary, just before it poured with rain.

Leaves...





Reflected branches on my pond. Random compositions. Some rather fuzzy.


























Some lone  leaves on hedges








As I have said before " I love it when there are just a few leaves left on the branches in autumn."






This is rough nature. No beautiful views.






 I was asked to point upwards .....


and a flock of crows flew over, crowing loudly above the telegraph lines and treetops.






When you try to capture a moving flocks of birds at very short notice there is no time to compose. I enjoy the randomness of the images.

crows over the hedgerow

 I like them even better in pink.


crows over Hawkwood


We fnished off down by the stream, and the old rope swing.









The swing has had an upgrade



swing last year



swing this year


Every time I go to Hawkwood I find something new to enjoy.

Tomorrow I am off to New Zealand, so I will leave it behind me for a few months, and will return when new shoots are appearing on these same branches.

It will be the same as always, and different as always. That is the pleasure of revisiting an old friend.

Gore (South Island, New Zealand), here I come.

Soon to become my new old friend.


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