Choices

The greatest temptations, the worst possible paths to follow, the different ways one expresses, the feelings you keep hidden. All driven by the choices we make.

I find myself reflecting on past choices of late. Lamenting the choices that have led to unsatisfactory situations I now find myself in. The choices that determine the outcomes of my life. But, not all choices are bad. It’s just we often choose only to reflect on ‘bad’ choices the most. A ‘bad’ or ‘good’ choice can only be labelled as such when considered in the context of my life when the choice was first made. This paragraph may seem contrived, but I assure you I am working my way to a point. At least I think I am.

At the beginning of my photography I chose to visit locations with the intention of making (recreating) compositions I had already seen or been influenced by. Was this a bad choice? Well, without doing this I would not have learned how to properly use my camera. I learned exposure and patience. In that respect, it was a good choice to make such images. However, would it still be a good choice for me to go back and continue to make such images now? I predict such photographs would be hollow and expressionless. Without this choice made early in my photography I would not have a measure of my own artistic progress, and we can’t ever truly find our voice if we do not progress.

Ile Flottante.jpg

Another choice I find myself reflecting on is my presence as a photographer on social media. Early in my photography I was sucked in to the maelstrom of social media. I became aware and invested in the numbers. The followers. The likes. Why? Did I need validation? Maybe. Maybe I was insecure about my photography, likely because it lacked my own voice. So I sought recognition to add something to these derivative and non-consequential images I was making, images that aped the work of others that had come before me. Images that lacked expression.

It was only when I started making photographs of externalised emotions, of a landscape I connected to creatively, rather than generic well-trodden compositions that I had started to make artistic progress. However, this progress is not measured against some external standards of what constitutes ‘good’ photography. This was progress measured against my prior choices and against how I felt about my work.

When I started to make photographs that were imbued with my own voice I was able to make a choice to stop caring about something as frivolous and unfulfilling as the metrics of social media. I escaped from the maelstrom and stopped caring about digital validation and started caring about my introspection. An exploration of my self set against the backdrop of the landscape I am always in awe of. As soon as my photography became expressive, I made progress. I chose to care about me and not others or algorithms.

This process started in 2019 and I have subsequently made choices that ensured I always stayed true to myself. I had chosen integrity.

So, why do I still choose to use social media? Well, there are a number of reasons, the main ones being friendship and community. I have made some excellent friends through photography. I want to see their photographs. I want to feel how they feel through their work, and I want to communicate with them through mine. Community in art is important to me. Not mindless liking and sharing; that is for those still trapped in their own maelstrom. Rather a community of like-minded individuals whose work inspires. Who trust each other with their inner-most feelings and delicate connections with the landscape.

Painted Weald WEB.jpg

Even though I continue to use social media, I have recently made the choice to step back a little. This is for a number of reasons, the main one being that I currently have nothing new to say about my current body of work. As I have now shared the collection of images I made on my trip to Scotland this summer I have no reason to continue talking about it. The images are there for all to see and can do the talking for me. After all, they all contain my voice, like a recording on a satellite, drifting through interstellar space, ready to speak to any listener.

I think this choice to step back is one I will make more often. When I have art to share, I will step forward again. Knowing when to be quiet is as important as deciding when to speak, otherwise we risk our expressions becoming noise. Homogenous and unfulfilling. A waste of time.

Rest assured, I dip in and out periodically to see if other photographers I admire have something new to engage with and experience. And I will continue talking with my friends, albeit privately. In the meanwhile I choose to use these moments between the sharing of my photography to introspect and reflect on my life. I have also started to write more, which I find enhances the mindfulness I have for my work. This enjoyment of writing was recently ignited by an article I have just made for On Landscape magazine, which will be available to read in the coming months.

I know I will not regret this choice to periodically step away from social media and focus more on the real me than the digital representation of my self. Just like I don’t regret progressing from the derivative photography in my earlier work. These choices act like milestones. Milestones I can look back at to gauge my own progress, so that I can see how far I’ve travelled.

What are we If not a culmination of all the choices we made before? It’s important to remember all those choices, good or bad. Remember the people we used to be. They helped us become who we are now.

I choose to own my choices.

Mute.jpg

Style or Project?

Summer 2021

At the end of July 2021 I embarked upon a summer trip to Scotland. The main goal of this trip was to camp by the sea with a friend and just depressurise from what has been a horrific start to the year. I really struggled with the second UK lockdown in January and February this year, compiled with the stresses of working during the pandemic after the restrictions were eased. It hasn’t been all too fun. I imagine many of you reading this have felt the same way.

So a coastal camping trip to Scotland was just what was needed. I didn’t take much with me at all, but I chose not to leave my camera at home. Due to the fact I hadn’t made this a dedicated photography trip there was no pressure to make images, not that there should be anyway. So I felt more free and relaxed; my photography benefited greatly from this and I came home with a body of work I am immensely proud of. You can see the full collection here.

Apart

Apart

Summer has a bad reputation… why?

I have seen many photographers, particularly in the UK, lament the summer months: the early sunrises, the late sunsets, every thing is green and overgrown etc. - these are common complaints. While I understand these concerns, I am lucky that my style (more on this later) does not particularly rely on these common prerequisite conditions a lot wish for. I actually take a lot of my images (not all, as you will know if you have seen the recent Summer 2021 collection) in the middle of the day. I would argue that the vast majority of what I consider to be my best work was taken in July and August. I implore landscape photographers to get out in the Summer months - I always make sure I take a camping trip every summer for this reason. Just work with the conditions you are given, leave any expectations you have at the door.

The photograph below Fission was taken two hours before sunset, the long evenings and low cloud provided wonderful conditions to make photographs of layered mountainsides. I didn’t head out that evening desperate for such light, but I reacted when it arose. There is always something wonderful happening in the summer months. You just have to be there and move with the landscape and conditions and don’t let any expectations you have dictate what you do.

Fission

Fission

Project or Style?

I’m not sure if you are aware, but I have only owned a camera since January 2018. If you are reading this and have been photographing for some time you will probably reflect on your first three years as a time of rapid progression, change and self-realisation. This is what I have experienced.

I am sometimes told by others that they like my ‘style’ - which is often categorised as calm, subtle, open etc. This is something I have not actively tried to create, but has evolved over my first three years as a photographer. Why it is has evolved this way, I am not sure. I will not be discussing my emotional connection to the landscape in this post, that’s a tome for another day! What I do know is that if I examine my favourite landscape images (my approach in woodland is somewhat different) there are common themes: calm, subtle and open. I didn’t particularly realise this until others started commenting on it.

I am drawn to compositions that seem to exude those aforementioned qualities. Also, a lot of it comes down to post-processing style. I have considered that my work doesn’t follow a style, rather a long-term project that has evolved naturally from my work, a project to capture the landscape in its most subtle and calm states. I only realised I was potentially working on a such a project when I started curating my favourite work in late 2020 and noticed all of my favourite landscape images had a similar feel (again, my woodland images are different). So, I decided I was unintentionally on a project, which I named Calm. The image Nazgul below epitomises this ‘project’ for me:

Nazgul

Nazgul

I actually discussed this Calm project idea with Matt Payne on a recording of his podcast F-Stop, Collaborate and Listen which is due to air later this year. The question still remains in my mind: is this a project, or is this actually a photographic style? Does it matter either way?

I am both proud and a little scared of having an recognisable style. I am proud because I haven’t forced it and have stayed true to what I connect with in the landscape. I am also very happy with my light-touch, subtle post-processing style - I don’t do a lot to the images. I am growing ever more fond of the eyewitness approach to landscape photography, wanting the landscape and conditions to do the talking. I have no issue with photographers who work their images a bit harder in post-processing - many of my favourite photographers do! It’s just that I don’t connect with the landscape with my photography in that way.

Just to a reminder, I am three years into my foray into landscape photography and these thoughts and musings may seem naive - I bet some of you reading this thought they had a style then all of a sudden started making wildly different photographs!

This is why I am a little scared of having a style - I am worried it may force me to pigeonhole myself and reduce my creativity when in the field. Although, one may argue that a reduction in creativity is just another way of saying having a focussed approach. At the moment, I am happy to go with this subtle, calm and open style or project, I like the direction it gives me.

So, project or style: does it matter? It’s easy to say “no, it doesn’t matter, make photographs of anything” - but I actually quite enjoy the focussed approach. In my mind, the difference between a project and a style is that a project has a definite end point, and a style continues. Would I be upset if this style continued for 20 years? I don’t think so. But again, I am only three years in.

As an experiment I actively tried to make something a little different on my recent trip. A lot of my favourite images have quite a low contrast, high-key look to them, so I sought to achieve something a bit different, producing the image Dark Mirror below, where I’ve even let parts of the landscape fall in to deep silhouette (this was done during the exposure, not the post-processing). However, I have been told this image, despite having more contrast than much of my other work, does still feel like one of my images… so maybe I do have a style? Is a style more than a look? Is it even tangible?

Dark Mirror

Just to pre-warn you, I don’t think I will be arriving at a conclusion as to whether I am completing a long-term project, or if I just have a style. If you forced me to choose, I would like to have a consistent style that one may recognise. It all boils down to how I want to see my photography build in the future. My long-term goal in landscape photography is to build a body of work over decades. A legacy I can look back on that others may enjoy and recognise.

Follow your own path
— Ben Horne

The question remains, do I have to maintain a consistent style to achieve this, to keep following my own path? Possibly. Possibly not. Am I being naive again? Does it even matter? Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, I feel good about where my photography is going and I have finally realised I have direction now. I have no idea where this direction will lead me, but I strongly believe that to find something new you first have to get lost.

Lost

Lost

Thank you very much for reading,

James