It’s a closed shop. Well, almost…

My early morning walks in Lincolnshire often take me through high streets and I confess to being a keen window-shopper. Sometimes I find a window display interesting enough to want to record the moment; sometimes an empty shop, sadly closed down or simply closed for renovation offers up something equally appealing.

As a student, the work of Eugene Atget (1857-1927) made a great impression on me. The Frenchman was out and about the streets of Paris early and he photographed many shop fronts. Fête du Trône is my favourite and is worth seeking out should you be interested. The photograph above is a kind of homage to the great man; you will notice that I have mirrored the image so that the reflected word ‘hope’ is better read. Across the road was an employment agency (it is worth bearing in mind that Grimsby, once the greatest fishing port in the world, has seen better times) which bore the legend: (no) hope…

I find this sort of thing rather attractive, though I have heard it described as ‘an eyesore’. Each to his own. West of Grimsby, a little way along the Humber estuary there is another port, busier than Grimsby and an important oil terminal. Immingham is a small town and, like Grimsby, its connection with far-off places is reflected by a diverse population. Should you need something exotic to be cooked up for you or if you want to browse shelves for unfamiliar ingredients, you are catered for:

Head downstream from Grimsby and you will encounter neighbouring Cleethorpes; a seaside resort and the place of my birth, many moons ago. I found a pet supplies shop as I made my way down to the beach one day:

And on another occasion I reached the seafront, was suckered in by a faux ice cream cornet and, despite the fact it was a cold, miserable day, entered this excellent establishment only to find out that they didn’t have my favourite flavour (pistachio, if you’re interested).

Heading inland, Gainsborough – as far as you can go before entering Nottinghamshire – is a very interesting place with a fair history; famous for the Tudor Hall that once hosted the likes of Henry VIII, the town also attracts me for the wealth of shop front potential. The shops in the two photographs below sat side by side; I was sat on the wall of a splendid churchyard having a smoke when they occurred to me:

Boston, the third port in Lincolnshire, is a fascinating place to visit and was my home during the 1970s. Over the past three years I have spent a few days of my annual holiday in the town. It has seen changes and I’m hoping that it will be a subject for a future blog post. For the time being, here is an empty shop window shortly after sunrise:

Many thanks for taking the time to look at my blog. For the enthusiast, I used an Olympus OMD with a Zuiko short zoom for all the photographs.

Not as bracing as you might think: a day out in Skegness

The resort town of Skegness, on the coast of Lincolnshire, is famous for the slogan: ‘It’s so bracing!’. Not so the day I visited the place. In the middle of that long, hot summer of 2018. The view from the shore is dominated by a vast wind farm; on this day of heat and little breeze it was as if cooling fans had been laid on for the benefit of visitors.

It would be fair to say that us Brits enjoy our Costa del Sol temperatures in small, package-deal doses; not a couple of months of them. I base this observation on a switch – from, ‘it’s too wet’ or, ‘it’s too cold’ to, ‘it’s too hot’ – in conversations about the weather. I sympathised with the parents of the youngster above as they tried to work up some enthusiasm appropriate to the moment. I had chosen the first day of the holiday season – the day after the schools closed for the summer – but there were surprisingly few souls walking about.

Donkey Delivery Vehicle, Main Beach: July 2018

I walked north along the promenade. Once I had left the main beach I had the route to myself and, as the sun beat down, the phrase ‘mad dogs and Englishmen (go out in the midday sun)’ came to mind. The closest thing to alternative activity was encountered as I passed some bowling greens:

There was even less evidence of man a little further on as I arrived at the North Shore Golf Club, though the fairways were crying out for some rain:

The chap above was probably looking for the ‘nineteenth hole’ I imagine, lol. I’d have joined him, but I needed to press on. I managed another couple of kilometres before I decided to return to the main road. My water bottle was empty, I was quite some distance from the town by now and I felt uncomfortable.

The road to who knows where?… I never found out: July 2018

In my explorations of my home county, Lincolnshire I always use public transport. If that’s not available, I walk. I was overjoyed to find, at the end of an overgrown pathway from the shore, the main road into town and, importantly, a bus stop. The couple in the shelter were not only preoccupied with themselves, they were in full sunshine. I lurked in the shade behind. By the time I boarded a bus I felt like someone with a bizarre fetish:

And that was that. Alighted the bus at the railway station and made my escape after a lengthy wait in a long queue of hot and irritable fellow travelers. ‘It’s far too hot’ – If they weren’t saying it, they were thinking it.

Thanks for visiting this, my 30th blog. The camera I used for the pictures was my trusty Olympus OMD.

My most familiar 400 metres: A personal street challenge

It has been just too hot to be out and about lately. And there is only so much scanning of old negatives I can take before the novelty wears off. I needed to be out but I also needed a retreat to the comfort of fans and air-conditioning. I decided to spend some time on my street. Three days, in fact.

Day Three: New build, unoccupied and new build, occupied

My street is quiet. I walk it many times: 300 metres from my house takes me to the point I turn off when taking my daughter to school, 100 metres in the opposite direction takes me to the other end of the street where it joins a busy road. I have walked the street many times as part of my daily routine over the past ten years. I know that there is a solitary pineapple plant on a spot of wasteland and some gorgeously colourful cockerels that peck along the roadside.

I have also noticed recently three new builds. Above are photographs of two of them, the third:

Day One: All will be revealed, but not yet

There is also a house I had never previously taken much notice of that has just undergone a facelift; the choice of colour makes it a stand out attraction now…

Despite the lack of the presence of human activity in the street, there is plenty of evidence of it. I never actually saw painters in action at the house pictured above, but their pots, brushes, rollers and ladders bore testament to their handiwork. I never saw builders as I was taking photographs, but the building progresses daily. It’s almost as if there is a secret world, conspiring to starve me of its portrayal.

The cultural evidence in the street is abundant. This hadn’t really occurred to me until I began to look closely, without the need to get to school on time or buy a bottle of milk before the kettle boils. I find the Buddhist ‘Spirit Houses’ fascinating:

In desperation, and needing to find some action, I loitered on my street corner. I was having a cigarette – a favourite (but not recommended) ploy when my intent is a candid photograph – and made this shot between drags:

So there you have it. I enjoyed the exercise and was never far away from my front door, water, coffee and fan. I made a photograph of the pineapple plant but didn’t like it. The cockerels ran away at my approach. There was an old car, though:

Thanks for visiting my blog. All photographs made with an Olympus OMD and a Zuiko short zoom lens.

Shooting dogs for dog’s sake? Merely incidental!

It is difficult to avoid the occasional dog when you spend your time out and about. Here in Thailand dogs are everywhere; in my other stamping ground, Lincolnshire our canine friends are less frequently encountered. When the noted photographer, Elliott Erwitt went through his huge collection of snaps (his term) he noticed this too, eventually working the theme in one of the most marvelous books of photographs. Unlike him, my photographs are pictures of dogs rather than pictures with dogs in them. For dogs’ sake if you like…

I have to admit that I am a ‘cat person’. I can tolerate dogs and have grown to not be intimidated by them during a face to face street encounter. Despite the barking, snarling and threatening behaviour of some dogs – particularly the strays – they will generally allow you to carry on with what you are doing if you ignore them.

I have, oddly, formed a brief but rewarding relationship with a dog on occasion. I have talked to them even. In the following photograph I put this down to self-preservation; ‘if I’m friendly with you, you be friendly with me…yes?’

There are cute dogs:

…and there are not so cute dogs (my opinion only, lol):

Of course the fact of the matter is that life, for all living things, is finite. I felt a moment of sadness for this late dog, thrown up by the waves. The rockabilly classic, ‘Endless Sleep’ by Jody Reynolds occurred to me….

My final offering is my favourite and is another dog I talked to. I felt he needed a friendly word and I believe he enjoyed the company, if only for the briefest time:

Thanks for visiting my blog. The camera I used for these photographs is the usual Olympus with a Zuiko lens.

O, Porto: a turn of the century memoir. Part two…

As well as walking around Porto, I’d occasionally venture further afield. You don’t have to travel far to reach the countryside: wooded slopes heavy with the scent of eucalyptus, vast beaches baking in the sun, the small coastal villages with houses of weathered stone, the marvelous churches and quintas – all within easy reach by bus or train.

Ovar, around 45 kilometres south of Porto, was a favourite place for a day trip. It struck me as a ‘sleepy’ town (although classed as a city) and I rarely bumped into the locals on my midday strolls (mad dogs and Englishmen). I remember that in the cafes wine was served in earthenware jugs…

On the coastal railway line, between Porto and Ovar, was the lovely town of Espinho – another regular haunt. A seemingly endless beach were you could watch sardines being caught using tractor-hauled nets. I once tried fishing for bass on a rocky outcrop here; I caught nothing…

Going north from Porto, along the coast, brings you eventually to the Minho. Walking in the fabulously diverse countryside here was something I didn’t do often enough. I remember one occasion, on January 1st 2000, when I had to hang onto my camera whilst slipping over icy rocks to get this photograph:

You cannot walk far in any Portuguese street before you stumble across some beautiful tilework; in particular the hand painted blue and white azulejos:

Tiles depicting symbolic icons, scenes from legend and historical story telling are found everywhere, alongside those that are merely decorative. Here are some that caught my attention while exploring the Porto suburbs:

I hope you have enjoyed my Porto blogs. Thanks for visiting. The photographs, scanned from my original Kodachrome slides, were made using an Olympus OM1 with Zuiko lenses.

O, Porto: a turn of the century memoir. Part one…

Sandeman Port Wine Boats on the River Douro, Porto: 1999

When I saw in the new year, 2000, I was living in Porto. The fireworks overhead reflected on the Douro, close to the Ponte Luis I which can be seen in the background of my photograph above. A river which shares with the city a splendid history and which has been so vital over the centuries to the development of the port wine industry.

When I first moved to Portugal I lived in Matosinhos which borders the north of Porto, separated by the Parque da Cidade, above. I would often take a short cut through this vast, green space on my exploratory walks, the best way to really discover a city. I would eventually come to the Avenida da Boavista, a broad thoroughfare that ran straight from the seafront to the heart of the city.

Monumento a Dom João VI , at the western end of the Avenida da Boavista: 1999

The celebrated Portuguese architect, Álvaro Siza Vieira was born in Matosinhos; half way down the Avenida da Boavista is the Museu Serralves, a superb contemporary art gallery he designed, set in beautiful grounds. This place became one of my favourite haunts.

I moved from Matoshinhos to Foz do Douro which is situated at the point where river meets sea. One day I came across a statue of the Portuguese writer, Raul Brandão. Born in Foz, his book, ‘Os Pescadores’ was the first Portuguese book I attempted to read (the second was a book on Portuguese cuisine, but that’s another story).

As I said, walking is a grand way to explore a city; combined with local buses (which I would board simply because I was attracted to the name of the destination) I broadened my horizons, ending up in attractive, quiet suburbs with interesting names. São Roque was one of them:

Fontainhas, which sits on the steep bank of the river behind the Luis I bridge, is another area that fascinated me. A place where every building had an individual character and where the steep lanes offered a challenge of endurance, particularly on a hot day.

There are many things I liked about Porto: the citizens, the history, the bricks and mortar, the cafes, the river and the sea. But the one thing I really miss is the food. All of it. I found many fantastic eateries in out of the way places, restaurants hugely popular with the locals, always full and satisfying in every way. Here is a spot I found in Senhora da Hora. Cabrito Assado No Forno on a Sunday. Beautiful……

Thanks for visiting; part two is on the way. The photographs were taken on an Olympus OM1, with Zuiko lenses. I scanned my original Kodachrome slides as best I could…..

‘Oh, I do like to be beside the seaside’: part one….

Cleethorpes is a seaside resort in Lincolnshire, UK. It sits on the mouth of the Humber estuary, not far from where river meets sea, and it is the place of my birth. I visit the place every summer for a month or so, my family and I plan to resettle there next year.

Generally, as with anywhere I find myself, I like to be up and about before the sun. Watching the scene unfold, empty yet populated with the evidence of activity. Such was the shot above as I looked over from an empty pier I noted how a sluggish tide had so neatly smoothed away the marks of an earlier activity and how it had jettisoned a single piece of driftwood.

‘The Front’: Cleethorpes early morning, 2018

During the summer days, people come to the seaside for much the same reasons as they have done historically; to take the sea air, to have fun, eat candy floss and whipped ices or to simply relax….

It is fair to say I never tire of the place. I’ve watched it change over the 60-odd years and it has seen me grow up too.

Despite the emergence of fast food outlets (dim view taken by me, for sure), you can still feast on the most excellent fish and chips – best in the country – and, as the son of an ex-trawlerman, I know it.

At the end of the day – literally – there is nothing better than leaning over the promenade railings and feeling the sting of that fresh breeze on your face!

Thanks for visiting, as usual an Olympus OMD was used with Zuiko short zoom.

Talat Noi: the project that was, then wasn’t, then was…

Talat Noi is a riverside neighbourhood that sits on the fringes of Bangkok’s Chinatown. I was instantly attracted to it when I made a brief visit in 2017; looking for a project that would be my first in colour – after 40-odd years of monochrome photography – I vowed to return and get cracking. That decision was to cause me a few headaches along the way.

Talat Noi is a collection of streets with one thing in common: salvaged engine parts, millions of them. Great piles of cogs, cylinder heads, axle boxes – all manner of parts. Dirty, oily streets where each workshop is a hive of activity and, I presume, business is done. I wanted my colour photographs to reflect the grime, the ‘unprettiness’ of it all.

I devised a technique using layers in Photoshop; a base layer of a very contrasty monochrome version of the photograph over which I placed the original colour photograph which I then reduced in transparency until the effect of the base layer played apart. I liked the desaturating effect of this on the colour.

Then I realised that I was just trying to get back to my mono comfort zone; my choice of subject was made, not for the colour, but with monochrome in mind. I had long hard look at this; then went back and shot monochrome.

On the whole, it was an unproductive day and very hot. Some of the photographs showed context while some, like the above, did not. But I was getting some interesting (for me) stuff.

Plenty of food vendors about in the community. I had a go at shooting colour and not messing about with it:

I’ve visited Talat Noi half a dozen times and, after trying various techniques, have decided to give it a rest. I’ve really enjoyed my strolls around this fascinating area and am convinced there is the photograph. Just got to find it. As for the car, on my last trip a month or so ago it was still there and still attracting attention:

Thanks for taking the time to visit my blog. All photographs were taken on my OMD EM5 coupled with a Zuiko Digital short zoom lens.

Only Joking! And Other Experimental Pieces

I have arrived at my present state, unemployed and close to retirement age – assuming I ever catch up with an ever moving boundary – via bus conducting, commercial fishing, bar keeping and, by far my most enduring occupation, a very modest career as a graphic artist. This said, photography has been my life.

Finding suitable words for this photograph of the destruction of a Scunthorpe steelworks

I have, in the past, been accused of flippancy and have always put my hand up. I know it. In the serious pursuit of the elusive ‘image-that-says-it-all’ there must be a playtime; looked forward to in much the same way as, during my schooldays, the bell that signified the end of prep and a mad dash to the tv room because The Monkees episodes started coincidentally with it.

Image made when I gatecrashed a graduation celebration, Lincoln 2015

To be fair, I wasn’t exactly dressed for the occasion when I made the above photograph and I probably hadn’t shaved either: I couldn’t resist mirroring my subject’s expression with a smiley face.

Sometimes I don’t need such a sophisticated addition to make me chuckle. I have a thing about dots, which I call ‘things’….

Photograph taken in Don Muang, Bangkok 2018

‘Sermon’: Image made in Muang Thong Thani, Bangkok 2014

‘Sermon’ is simply a photograph I made of an ornamental fountain. Camera pushed against a wall to enable a slow shutter speed. Here’s a similarly themed shot made in 1984:

‘Easter, Rising’ Photograph made in Scunthorpe, 1984.

Considered calling it ‘Exodus’ when I played around with it a couple of years ago. To be fair, ‘Photograph taken from moving car during a rapid descent of Mortal Ash Hill, Scunthorpe’ doesn’t have the same ring to it.

The addition of words to images during my experimental moments probably stems from my work as a graphic artist. I always shot my own images for designs I was working on; it was easier than finding a stock image that had the correct places for text etc. Here’s an example:

While the above does not exactly fit with the theme of this blog. Perhaps it demonstrates my point, above. The photograph drew upon the themes of isolation and inner struggle found in the play, perhaps tenuously.

Here is a photograph of me, at a few months old, taken by mum in 1955:

I must have been around 10 years old when I splashed out half my pocket money – threepence – on three little books at a jumble sale in my hometown, Cleethorpes. Each around 12 cms square, they featured the works of the painters: Miro, Klee and Braque. This acquisition formed the foundation of my lifelong interest in art history. Moments like this never leave you and I found myself remembering those little books while I played with the next two images in Photoshop:

When a theme of ‘Black on Black’ cropped up recently in a small photographic group I belong to I decided to ditch the camera and work in Photoshop from scratch. Although calling it a photograph is stretching it a bit, the process recalls the days I used to play around in the darkroom, making photograms.

This has been an indulgence, I know – and I make no apologies – but I needed a break. Here’s a shadow of a bicycle seat in my back yard that needed a beak. I ditched my favoured dot for a triangle…..lol

Cameras either OM1 or OMD. Zuiko lenses….

‘I’m no twitcher, but I know a bird when I see one.’

As a photographer I can relate to the ‘twitcher’; the keen bird-watcher who chases sightings of rare birds. Chasing that elusive shot, the less successful days far outnumbering the successful ones. The defining moments, after 40-odd years, able to be counted on my fingers: no less exciting than the discovery of a rare visiting goose on the Thames marshes.

I am never out and about with birds on my mind, they tend to be incidental. Even as subject I find them accidentally so, for what birds will do is difficult to anticipate. Luck often plays an important part:

I quite like those silent moments required by the photographer – armed with a longest focal length of only 80mm – in order to not scare a subject away:

This approach is not necessary when there are more birds than you can shake a stick at in some public space, and they are looking upon you as provider:

Birds are the stuff of legends and beliefs; swans, in particular crop up in lore and legend. I understand that they mate for life, though divorce sometimes happens (who knows that?):

The Kiss and a Lover Spurned, Lincoln, UK 2016

I was out not so long ago with a pal who is an excellent drone photographer: the machine created some interest, rather alarmingly I thought, with a local flock:

I’ll finish with my favourite. I thought there was something of a reverential about this bird, overseeing a temple-like setting. In fact, it was beneath houses built on piles above the swamp where the very limits of Greater Bangkok meet the Gulf of Thailand:

Thanks for visiting, as usual the photographs were made using an Olympus OMD and a Zuiko short zoom lens.