In Liguria ...

These days in Genova have been filled with adventures of an unimagined kind ...

Anna, from Beautiful Liguria, has teamed up with me and we're working on a project (or two) together.  These last few days we have wandered in Liguria, interviewing and photographing some very special artisans.  People using techniques that sometimes go back as far as medieval times because 'they still work'.  People keeping the personal touch alive in their creations and creating so much beauty in the process.

It has been both a pleasure and a privilege to visit these worlds I knew nothing of and in a region so beautiful that the journey has been as much a part of the destination.

I feel like I have fallen through the looking glass, from one beautiful adventure and into another.  And still it continues. 

As always, in Italy, it's about the people, and I am meeting truly excellent people.  They are kind to this foreigner, that one with so many questions and a desire to photograph all.

Here is a taste of the beauty I saw today.  Can you guess what it might be?

On Flanders Fields ...

“I am young, I am twenty years old; yet I know nothing of life but despair, death, fear, and fatuous superficiality cast over an abyss of sorrow. I see how peoples are set against one another, and in silence, unknowingly, foolishly, obediently, innocently slay one another.”

- Erich Maria Remarque, All Quiet on the Western Front 

I was feeling quietly devastated by the loss of life represented by the 1,000s of Commonwealth headstones we saw stretching out in all directions, on Friday, out there on Flanders Fields.

I'm always left imagining the ghosts of those brave and beautiful young men who believed they were saving the world when they agreed to fight in the 'Great War' ... I imagine them standing round as we visit their graves, and I wonder how many are bitter.

And then a butterfly arrived on the flowers in front of one those tombstones.

The Commonwealth War Graves Commission does a magnificent job in taking care of the memories of all those who died.  The flowers, the closely-mown lawns, the pristine white headstones.

Dead but not forgotten.  Never ... Meanwhile our governments go on creating new wars, borders and boundaries.  I suspect nothing was learned.

My Way ...

Chi trova un amico trova un tesoro.

Usually, when I head out to a photo-shoot, it's a new location, new people, new light.

Most times, nothing is known or certain ... it's a new beginning. 

I don't use lights, I demand nothing from people.  I don't have a routine. 

Each person, each family, each event is like an individual fingerprint and so I can't ask for the same thing.

I want them to be as they are, wear what they love, and I like it if they can take me to their favourite place.

Sometimes I check in to see if this way of working scares me.  But it doesn't.  It seems to be the thing I love doing best, that attempt to capture people as they are. 

And anyway, I get to meet people like Steven and Isabel and that ... that is treasure, to be sure.

Translation: He who finds a friend, finds a treasure.

Steven

I photographed a first communion celebration yesterday, out on Flanders Fields and I'm delighted with what I captured.  I blame the family.  They're entirely inspirational.

When I photograph any kind of family event, my objective is to tell the story of the people involved, to capture them as they are, interacting, loving, simply being themselves.

This is Steven, one of the nicest Belgian's I know.  And he has a most beautiful family.

Last night, as I downloaded and viewed the images captured from a day where his son's milestone was celebrated, my soul sang.  It was a good day.

Today ... and some other days too.

We shopped for our monthly supplies, Colruyt and Makro.  Later, we slipped away to our favourite secondhand shop by the airport and voila, found the beautiful orange bicycle for Miss 'Almost' 9 ... it has flowers.  It is a little early, as her birthday is actually 4th of July but it was meant for her.  We're sure.

Then I slept. 

Last night I was out with Lucy and Ruth, there was some red wine involved, much laughter and many conversations.  And then, cycling home after midnight, I learned that using my phone while riding a bike is to be avoided.  Only my finger was hurting this morning.  I was lucky.

Tomorrow I'm off to the Westhoek, really really early, to photograph a special moment in the lives of one of my favourite Belgian families.   I love this kind of photo-shoot, the kind that involves extended family.  I love attempting to capture not just the day but the emotions and connections too. 

Let's see how it goes.  Meanwhile, there was this poppy in Piedmont and I was there photographing it, just a few days ago.

It's all about details too ...

One of the things that really struck me about Diana and Micha's B&B were the details ... exquisite details.

I felt concentrated, like a kid playing in mud, using flowers and twigs for decoration.  I had light and colour.  I was that lost during those moments when I played with my camera ... lost in the light, and the details.

This is an odd photograph and yet  I think I like it.  The light struck me but perhaps I saw the mosaic first.  I don't remember but it's like this.  You can spend hours in each room, outside, and in doorways, just noticing the details, one by one.

Early Morning, Rome

My cousin and I were up early one morning in Rome.  And we wandered, cameras in hand, in love with the light. 

And we crossed the River Tiber and I caught this reflection ... this blur, and looking at it today it seems like a beautiful abstract painting.  The kind I would so love to paint.  I am hungry for colour in these days.  The winter was long.

Etel Adnan, a Remarkable Woman

Etel Adnan was born in 1925 and raised in Beirut, Lebanon. Her mother was a Greek from Smyrna, her father, a high ranking Ottoman officer born in Damascus. In Lebanon, she was educated in French schools.

She studied philosophy at the Sorbonne, Paris. In January 1955 she went to the United States to pursue post-graduate studies in philosophy at U.C. Berkeley, and Harvard. From 1958 to 1972, she taught philosophy at Dominican College of San Rafael, California.

Based on her feelings of connection to, and solidarity with the Algerian war of independence, she began to resist the political implications of writing in French and shifted the focus of her creative expression to visual art. She became a painter. But it was with her participation in the poets’ movement against the war in Vietnam that she began to write poems and became, in her words, “an American poet”.

In 1972, she moved back to Beirut and worked as cultural editor for two daily newspapers—first for Al Safa, then for L’Orient le Jour. She stayed in Lebanon until 1976.

In 1977, her novel Sitt Marie-Rose was published in Paris, and won the “France-Pays Arabes” award. This novel has been translated into more than 10 languages, and was to have an immense influence, becoming a classic of War Literature. In 1977, Adnan re-established herself in California, making Sausalito her home, with frequent stays in Paris.

In the late seventies, she wrote texts for two documentaries made by Jocelyne Saab, on the civil war in Lebanon, which were shown on French television as well as in Europe and Japan.

Extract, the website of Etel Adnan 

Searching for information about Etel Adnan also led me into an interesting world that left me wanting to stay and read a while.  And there was another book too, Sea and Fog.

I took this photograph of her at the TASWIR Exhibition.  I was off to one side, taking photographs while she was interviewed.

My camera was filled with interesting people during those months on the project.

A little more on documentary photography

I wanted to come back to documentary photography once more and just say, never stop watching.  For me, it's a little like hunting ... perhaps. 

I don't go in with a plan beyond the attempt to capture the story.  To tell it true.  I picked up a 3-day documentary shoot, over on Flanders Fields, working with the New Zealanders a few years ago.

The image that follows is one of my favourites and I have to confess, it really was about swinging round and capturing this exquisite moment without thinking too much about settings.  A hongi ... a Maori greeting, was being exchanged. 

I had been traveling in France with the New Zealand veterans the day before and so they knew me a little. The New Zealand London Rugby Club were playing a commemoration match in Zonnebeke. 

Moments like these make documentary photography a big love of mine ...

 

 

On Documentary Photography ...

Her photographic work is magnificent and I love her presence: her portraits are stunning, they expose intimacy, humor, and pensiveness; her photographs capture the space, the movement, human interaction deliciously, in a way that one feels invited to an event long after it disappeared from the public scene.

In all her unobtrusiveness when working with the camera, Di is great fun to hang out with, the artists, scholars, thinkers, curators of our Berlin exhibition highly appreciated her, and when working together in Cairo, Istanbul, Berlin, or wherever else, I enjoy her kindness, humor, and delightful presence.

Shulamit Bruckstein, Curator, director of TASWIR projects / ha’atelier

Shulamit wrote this after a series of projects together and, in so many ways, lays out what I want to achieve as a documentary photographer.

I believe I need to be unobtrusive, invisible ... disappearing into the moment I have been asked to capture.  At the same time I believe that there are going to be people I need to engage with.  It's about building trust, if there's time.  It's about being respectful - I want people to enjoy my work afterwards. 

I prefer to wear dark clothes and quiet shoes.  I carry cough drops and tissues.  Nothing about me should stand out or distract people from the event.  I don't make eye contact when I move around ... unless I need to or unless I find a 'favourite'.  A favourite is someone who embodies something of atmosphere ... the event.  And there is always someone.

I love my flash.  It's a Canon Speedlite 580EX II and over the years we've become good friends.  I know how to twist and turn it, to bounce light and avoid shadows.  I work with my favourite lens most of the time, a  Canon EF 70-200mm 1:4L.  Some people get hung up on the latest equipment but I simply love whatever works for me.  This lens is my baby.  Attached to my Canon 5D Mk II ... it's magic.

I prefer to zoom because it allows me to stand back, on the edges, while still getting up close and personal without people realising that it's all about them.

Documentary photography ... unobtrusiveness, respect, the building of trust, connections, communication.  It's all of that and more.  I love it.

A day in the life of ...

I usually arrive here at my office desk around 8.30am and begin.  But it's a slow easing into my day, trying to clear email, catch up on any new (and inspirational) posts that have come in on my google reader overnight, and then there's facebook too.

But this morning, I deactivated that seductive thief of time. Facebook is gone for now.  I love the social nature of that particular space but it's too much when I really look what I have in front of me.

In 5 weeks, there is a huge business launch party that must be prepared, with accompanying workshop offer.  There is the book I'm putting together on Genova, using my photographs taken since 2008, and channeling my huge passion for that city.

The final touches are being put on the photography e-course but I'm also preparing a series of one-on-one photography coaching and wandering options, as well as more flexible times on journeys to other places for the website.

I'm interviewing Minske Van Wijk about her film in the days ahead.  I'm also writing for two other websites but details on the second site still to come. 

There is the continuing saga of manually uploading my posts from the old website to the new website.  Only 800 or so to go...

Actually, truth be told, I dream about arriving here in the office and saying to assistant, 'Hey there, how about you work on this project this week, and I'll develop this one.'  But that's not for now ... that's just a wee dream.

I really hope that your week is a good one.  And below ... a photograph I took back in those Istanbul days.

4 April, 2012: An update.  I lasted outside of Facebook for just 24 hours.  A huge filling broke and I was left with a need to distract myself while I waited for an emergency dental appointment.  Facebook, like google reader, brings interesting things into my world at times when I can't create for myself and waiting for a tooth repair did, so very much, interfere with my muse.

My tooth was repaired today but too late, I'm back in the Land of Facebook, although attempting to be measured in my time wandering there.

 

 

Piazza Banchi, Genova

I think one’s art goes as far and as deep as one’s love goes. I see no reason to paint but that.
Andrew Wyeth.

Exploring the depth of my love for a place seems like an inspiring reason to take photographs too.  There is more passion, more depth and emotion, when you turn your camera on something you love.

Piazza Banchi, the place where I buy my pink flowers when in Genova.  Taken one winter's night, January, 2012.

(Note: this was taken after the sun had gone down.  I spun my Canon EOS 5D MkII's ISO up to someplace around 6000 (thank you to Canon for this option) then handheld the camera to see what I might get without a flash or a tripod.)