“I find a piece of my soul every time I visit the sea.”
On reflection, I’m not entirely sure when I first wrote those words now. But it beautifully encapsulates how I feel about the ocean; to capture the ever shifting light, shadows and mood of the gloriously deserted coastline in spring and autumn became my passion. Albeit, neither being a great swimmer nor possessor of sea legs, my appreciation of its majesty is held wholly with a firm footing on terra firma!
Wavelengths is a project that has evolved in more recent years from out of the work that which shaped The Exhibition [scroll down].
Having been schooled in the traditions of black and white photography and hand printing, I began to instinctively use Photoshop Lightroom much in the same way as I would the traditional darkroom: essentially dodging and burning my images to release the full potential from each digital negative. However, it was my subsequent discovery of textures that added the final piece to the creative jigsaw. So, while still maintaining the aforementioned traditional darkroom techniques, I began to add a texture to my images, which opened up the opportunity for me to fully explore and develop my emotional response to the imagery; truly feeling into the the light and shadow and mood.
So there was a subtle irony in the way Wavelengths began to emerge. I never use a tripod now; I always found them cumbersome and would often become frustrated by how much they slowed me down – particularly impactful when shooting the fading light towards the close of the day. Instead, I would move around constantly, endeavouring to capture the often rapidly shifting moods in front of me, but even then the light would suddenly be gone; the day would be over. Almost as a result of the reluctance to use a tripod, I subsequently began to shoot well into twilight, and beyond, utilising the entirely opposite to a static approach … moving the camera; feeling into the light, sometimes that my eyes rarely saw.
This is the innate beauty of twilight, alongside the movemences of the camera, combining to beautifully ethereal affect.
This work also provided the catalyst to one of my most rewarding photography experiences when my imagery was interpreted in paint by American artist Michelle Firment Reid resulting in the joint exhibition, Where The Land Meets The Sea: Together Alone, the Artist and the Photographer in Tulsa, Oklahoma [the story of which can be found in the blog post here].
I also created a book to compliment the work exhibited in this series which you can see here.
Albeit I don’t feel Michelle’s paintings could ever be granted true justice when photographed in mere two-dimensions.