Tom dinning
Registrant*
I’m currently going through all my photographs, one by bloody one, and rethinking them, reprocessing, reinventing as it were. I don’t throw much out so this could take me a while.
Along the way I ask myself questions.
Today, the question is “What sort of a photographer am I?”
Along with that is the corollary “what sort of photographs do I take?”
Self analysis is sometimes helpful in understanding motives. Other times it sends me into a spiral of depression.
Take so called Street Photography.
I’m in some sort of street or other most days. I like the security of a city or town or community. I like the solitude of anonymity and the companionship of crowds. The buildings act as monuments to humanity and backdrops to ways of life.
What I have noticed is how different my images are of other street photographers.
Our very own Robert Watcher is constantly presenting us with images of individuals or groups he finds interesting or are involved in activity.
Occasionally we get a sense of location but it seems to me the prime motivation is recording the people.
On the other hand, my images, although they include people, often don’t, or place the people into the scene as I might a tree or greys hound at at a track; often distant, small in scale, diminished in importance perhaps.
This isn’t due to any fear of people or apprehension. It’s how I see things: the objects of interest all coming together in a way that interests me.
When I look at the images now I see everything. Others might miss things of importance, even people. Even I, from time to time am surprised by what I didn’t see through the viewfinder. But these supposedly unwanted elements are not removed or spoilt the result. They are left in because that’s where they were, so in some way, their significance is as important as the rest of the content.
That’s not to say I don’t crop, remove structures, wait for a moment or come or pass, frame according to taste. That’s me being God.
Strangely enough, I’ve never been ill at ease with what I do or create. So far I’ve been though a thousand or so images over the past months and not past over one that didn’t have some value or worth. For me!
In a sense, it is recording my own history. I look at it as a sort of archaeology of my own footsteps.
Along the way I ask myself questions.
Today, the question is “What sort of a photographer am I?”
Along with that is the corollary “what sort of photographs do I take?”
Self analysis is sometimes helpful in understanding motives. Other times it sends me into a spiral of depression.
Take so called Street Photography.
I’m in some sort of street or other most days. I like the security of a city or town or community. I like the solitude of anonymity and the companionship of crowds. The buildings act as monuments to humanity and backdrops to ways of life.
What I have noticed is how different my images are of other street photographers.
Our very own Robert Watcher is constantly presenting us with images of individuals or groups he finds interesting or are involved in activity.
Occasionally we get a sense of location but it seems to me the prime motivation is recording the people.
On the other hand, my images, although they include people, often don’t, or place the people into the scene as I might a tree or greys hound at at a track; often distant, small in scale, diminished in importance perhaps.
This isn’t due to any fear of people or apprehension. It’s how I see things: the objects of interest all coming together in a way that interests me.
When I look at the images now I see everything. Others might miss things of importance, even people. Even I, from time to time am surprised by what I didn’t see through the viewfinder. But these supposedly unwanted elements are not removed or spoilt the result. They are left in because that’s where they were, so in some way, their significance is as important as the rest of the content.
That’s not to say I don’t crop, remove structures, wait for a moment or come or pass, frame according to taste. That’s me being God.
Strangely enough, I’ve never been ill at ease with what I do or create. So far I’ve been though a thousand or so images over the past months and not past over one that didn’t have some value or worth. For me!
In a sense, it is recording my own history. I look at it as a sort of archaeology of my own footsteps.
