Trainspotting

So a busy few days for Amy and myself, as we set about editing and sending the pictures from Chris and Liz’s wedding (entrusting our wares to the tender mercies of the Royal Mail).  I’ve been preparing a mad-capped last minute project for an Open Call; more on this in another Benjy-Essay-Post (which given how I write will probably turn out to be the length of one of those horribly complex politico-romantic novels set in pre-stalinist Russia).

Theres also a possible exhibition coming up, but I shan't say more until we know a bit more about the details.  So probably a bit pointless me mentioning it, except in an effort to create Suspense and Interest.  Assuming anybody feels predisposed to be interested.

In an effort to generally improve our health, and get some photos, we decided to both head out in order to get a moodily-lit (so bad weather then) shot of a steam train up on t’moors on the Settle-Carlisle railway today, with associated long walk in the bracing northern air to get to the location.  The eventual shot was alright, but I got incredibly wound up by two things which constantly seem to hamper my location photography these days:

1)      the world is full of pensioners who like to photograph trains, and seem to be able to get to little-known locations that I’ve carefully scouted weeks before, and get there before me, setting up masses of tripods, chairs, and god knows what else in order to stake-out their little corner of England.  The old cliché of Germans nicking the best seats round the poolside is equally applicable in this case, and I’ve often had raging arguments with older photographers in such situations (“Quiet young man, I’m recording video!”, “You’re ruining my shot!  Move now!”, or the old favourite “I’ve more right to stand here, as I’m Older Than You”).  I suspect because of this I’m rapidly becoming that grumpy old git myself, and positively look forward to the day that my fellow train-photographing mates and I can be the grumpy old bastards what complain at the youngsters.

2)      The world is also full of people who insist on driving their powerful cars on A-roads at 45 mph.  I know times are tight and fuel economy is an important issue, but “Derestricted” does NOT mean ‘hey I can choose my own upper speed limit, and 40 seems about right’.  Sorry, but when you’re being caught up by our 10 year old Ford Ka, it’s a sign that you need to press the pedal a little harder.  I know this might just sound like a random rant, but the amount of transport shoots/landscape sets I’ve arrived late for recently has become a bit of an issue because of this.

See?  Grumpy-old-gittness beckons.

Ahem.  Back to the photography, before I start sounding like a Daily Mail columnist.

Theres a few reshoots planned of older projects, again for open calls and the like.  Amy has become aware that most of the stuff she photographed for her Cumbrian Coast series has been demolished or further wrecked, so a possible revisit to the atomic/derelict hell that is the Cumbrian Coast has been mooted to update the project, if we can stomach it.  Living in Cumbria for three years has probably knocked a few years off my lifespan ,so a revisit shouldn’t do too much damage, and in any case exposure to radiation supposedly gives you super powers.  In my case, I’m working on a possible reshoot of “Inflate/Deflate”, a sprawling still life/abstract shoot which generally involves making whatever room I’m shooting in look like a beach shop- again, hours of setup and dismantling for a short time photographing.  We’ll properly post about these as and when we get opportunity, but Amys Day Job restarts soon, and mine will become somewhat horrific for a fortnight as we slide inexorably into the Saltaire Festival, which every year leaves me somewhat drained and insane in its hectic-ness.  So art will either take the back seat, or will become ever more important as a safety valve…

Ben

Somewhere in Keighley.

Drinking a rather nice glass of port.