Shot on the X-Pro3 with the 50mm f/2 - 23mm f/2 and 18mm f/2 lenses.
Several hours after the flood peaked, hiking boots doing their best, I splosh along the river bank path as the floodwaters rage by, camera in hand. Storm Dennis has just left town and pulled with it a mass of surging water down from the Welsh valleys. Debris is scattered everywhere from the deluge and lakes dot the playing fields, tributaries threading between them, rippling over the pathways. There’s a kid on the riverside walk, gingerly picking his way along the fence, face blank with amazement. Just a thin film of water running over the concrete surface, though the roar of the flood surges past a few feet from him on the other side of the rail. His parents watch beside me, ready to march over and grab him by the ear should he stray. I raise the camera. Click. I think it’s a keeper.
The day before, coming back from London on the National Express. I’m given two options at the coach station. Go for my scheduled coach, which is delayed by half an hour but will drop me off near my door, or hop on the one just departing. I opt for the latter. A half hour from the capital and the trees begin to sway. The driver advises us to put our seat-belts on, as the winds are picking up and steering is getting a little dicey. I had a heavy night and am nursing a hangover. Every time I’m about to nod off the wind suddenly utters a piercing shriek and the coach shimmies to one side a step, like a startled horse. It’s not a terribly comforting ride, especially over the Severn Bridge.
When I get off the coach I find out from another driver that the other coach had some bad luck. “A bird went through the windscreen. The passengers are still at a service station, awaiting rescue.” Jesus Christ.
The water slowly receding, I can just about make out the turning of the tide. As I clomp through the silt and mud I can see the shallow streams returning to the river, leaving behind lagoons shimmering in the harsh winter light. The park is really filling up with people now, smart-phones capturing the scene. Bless those little Kodak Brownies, everybody’s a photographer now. Still, I hope they all have a firm tight grip on it, this isn’t the day to fumble an iPhone.
Myself, I’ve got my X-Pro3 slung round my neck. I’ve been shooting with it for six weeks now, and I’m kind of in love with it. It’s fast, responsive and the viewfinder is clear and bright. Even better, I’m finding the controversial hidden LCD screen to be in practice something of a marvel. I’m reviewing my photographs less, working the scene more. When I want to check out a shot it’s the work of a moment to bring it up in the viewfinder, or flip the back screen down. Better yet, the simple downward flip to reveal the LCD screen means its a lot easier to use impulsively than the X-T3’s design. The machine feels very comfortable in my hands too. If it only had one extra function button it’d be perfect. I’ll be posting a review about it at some point in the near future, but for now I’m still experimenting with it. I hate to post a review before I’ve had a good long working experience with a camera, but despite a couple of niggles all signs are pointing to this being a match made in heaven for me.
There’s a photographer I’m particularly into at the moment called Josef Koudelka. He photographed the Soviet invasion of Prague, escaped, claimed political asylum and joined the Magnum Agency. For eight years he lived part of his exile with the Welsh photographer David Hurn in London. There are two books of his to get, his incredible work Exiles and his book about Roma culture, Gypsies. His duo-tone black and white is beautiful, there’s a very slight warm feel to the images and a kind of charcoal smokey tone to the shadows of his high-contrast, grainy images. I had his images in mind when adjusting the settings in my camera for these, but I still only approached them a little way - basically with a notion for the same level of contrast, with creamy washed out highlights and dark cloudy shadows. I shot these in JPEG, with just a few local adjustments and gradient filters added in Capture One. Next time I head out I’ll push it further, shooting JPEG with the in built grain option and a slight warmth added with the monochromatic colour option. The beauty is of course that you can shoot both RAW and JPEG at the same time, but I’m definitely enjoying the limitations of JPEG. And you can still push-and-pull the images quite a bit in post-processing. Not enough to rescue an image, but certainly enough to substantially change the mood and pick out details with a little dodging and burning.
Anyway, click on the above names in bold to find out a little more about Koudelka and his incredible work. If you haven’t twigged already if you’re new to the blog, the images in these posts can also be clicked on to reveal the full traditional 35mm shaped versions. Needless to say I’m still pretty absorbed by black and white photography. It seems to be pretty concrete for me that what goes on in America is in colour, and what goes on in the UK is in black and white. I’ve no real idea why. I also suspect I need more camera custom profiles to accommodate the expanding range of black and white photographers I love. Now I seem to need the beautiful and oddly noble documentary look of Mary Ellen Mark, the grainy low contrast of Garry Winogrand, the dark glossy high-contrast inks of Saul Leiter, the raw zine style of Daido Moriyama and now the grainy smokiness of Josef Koudelka. Each one has a look that just floors me. Agh, I’m such a fashion victim. I may be gradually clawing my way to my own style, but it’s a hell of a circular route I’m taking. Well, at least it’s scenic.
The storm passes and the skies clear. Exhausted photographers crash out on the sodden benches, owners frantically attempt to corral their dogs. I skip along the river-bank taking close in shots of heaped banks of silt, the fine grain sparkling in the sun. There’s refuse and debris scattered everywhere along the riverbank, but I still find the patterns left by the retreating waters beautiful. All the same, there’s going to be a lot of picking up, sweeping up and wringing out over the next week. Better check in with the council and see if I can help out with the clean-up crew.
Hope you all stayed safe and dry out there, wherever you are, and thanks for stopping by.
