Cambridge, 2011 : Rubbish Guitarist...

Camera : Leica M4      Lens : Summaron 35mm f3.5    Film : Ilford FP4+     Developer : Ilford ID11

Anyway, there I am wandering the streets of Cambridge on my first-time visit to the city.  As is the norm for the streetwise street photographer, I'm trying to look casual, all the while on the alert for photo opportunities that might be lurking around the next corner - or the last one (which is more usual) - at which point the trigger on my finely honed cat-like reflexes will be pulled.   Then I notice the singing.  It's definitely live music, yet it has a muffled quality, coupled with a bit of a strange echo to it.  There's a guitar, too, although it's got an odd tone that I can't quite put my musical finger on.  It's a bit like one of those buskers that stands in a shop doorway which helps to focus or amplify the sound - but it doesn't have the same clarity.

Photography forgotten for the moment, I look around for the source of the melodious racket. Natural expectations mean that I'm looking for someone standing with an instrument - or seated maybe. It didn't sound like it was in my immediate vicinity, so I widen the search area a bit.  I retrace my steps towards a litter bin I'd passed a few moments previously, which now appears to have grown an arm and has a guitar neck sticking out of it. A second or two passes as I take in the new scene, then a voice emanates from the interior of the receptacle - which is a bit of a relief, since it means that the arm is attached to something and hasn't been discarded or lost by someone.

I watch for a while as the hand moves around in various chord shapes on the guitar neck and I listen until the song is finished. The singer, still unseen and possibly unseeing, thanks his audience for the applause (although I am the only one in the immediate area and I haven't clapped, since I'm holding a camera in one hand and scratching my head with the other). He announces his next number and launches into it without much hesitation but with much gusto.

I didn't wait for the end of the second song, but, on the basis that he was actually pretty good (given his somewhat cramped studio space) I did make a modest contribution to his white-cloth coin collection facility before taking a photograph and walking on, once again in wonder at the ways people find to make a living.

Regards

Eddie

Venice, June 2012 : Sunflower at San Marco

Camera :  Leica M6TTL    Lens : Voightlander 21mm f4    Film : Ilford HP5     Developer : Ilford ID-11

A thunderstorm had just broken the heat and humidity of Venice in June - and flooded the Piazza San Marco!  I was watching as the staff assembled raised boards to enable visitors to enter the Basilica without getting their feet, or ankles and knees, wet.  I was hoping to get a few expressions of visitors coming out into the flood, having entered in blazing sunshine, I thought there may be a picture or two pending.

I turned briefly, more to check whether there was any further imminent likelihood of another downpour, when the lady with the sunflower appeared in front of me.

No time to focus, I raised the camera and pressed the shutter release as she approached and passed, followed by a crocodile of Chinese tourists - all following the sunflower...

Regards

Eddie

Venice June 2012 : One Man and His Dog

Camera : Leica M4     Lens : Leica 35mm f3.5 Summaron    Film : Ilford HP5+ @ ISO 400         Developer : Ilford ID-11.

It was 33 degrees Celsius. Comfortably uncomfortable. Too hot for working – but not for walking.

 Others had the same idea and the Piazza San Marco was as busy as we’d seen it during any of our holidays in Venice.

I was in front of the Basilica, just standing, watching people coming, going, standing, watching.

This gentleman came walking towards me. He had been with his wife (at least, I assumed it was his wife) and I had noticed him pushing the small pram a few moments earlier. They had their backs to me and I assumed (the heat brings me out in assumptions…) that the pram held a small child – perhaps a grandchild (another assumption – it must have been really hot!).

I was pleasantly surprised and smiled when I saw the small dog in the pram. Completely comfortable, making no attempt escape from its confines, content to be wheeled around in the sunshine. I noticed a retractable leash sitting in the small tray near the handle – ready for any situation where self-powered-dog-transportation couldn’t be avoided.

I took just one photograph before they passed me. I noticed the pram had a small maker’s logo and bore the title “Outward Hound”…

 Eddie

Las Vegas, September 2011 : Impressions of Las Vegas #2

Leica M6TTL   Lens : Voigtlander 21mm f4   Film : Ilford HP5+    Developer : Ilford ID-11

We drove to Las Vegas from Phoenix, a distance of around 340 miles or so.  We left Phoenix on the Carefree Highway – where else could you find a road with a name that makes you feel like you’re on holiday?  Along the way we were constantly aware of the desert on either side of us. We passed countless saguaro cacti, their upturned arms like surrendering soldiers everywhere, and a forest of Joshua trees (surely evolved specifically for photographic purposes).

Las Vegas Boulevard, “Sunset Strip” or just “The Strip” as the locals referred to it, leaps from the landscape and is visible long before you’re anywhere near it.  The approaching desert is flat; covered with what look like residential buildings – nothing over a few stories and covering many square miles.

However, despite the long distance view, arriving the Boulevard is still a shock to the senses. It’s a madcap place. It’s as if someone has drawn a line in the road at each end to mark the boundaries of both the luxury hotels and the relaxations of normally-permissible behaviour.

As we walked along The Strip I mentioned to my wife that it felt like we were surrounded by illusions.

Promises of instant wealth line the outside of casinos, roller coaster rides sit on top of hotels, scantily-clad showgirls pose for photographs with passers-by, people queue to watch volcanoes erupt or fountains spout water in time to music, pirates climb the rigging of sailing ships while hydraulic pumps hiss to make the ships move and sink – the result of a direct hit from cannon fire.  It’s possible to take in the view from the Eiffel Tower, buy Prada from a Street in ancient Rome, get a hotel room in a pyramid or take a gondola ride on a canal inside the Venetian Hotel.

This picture was taken on Las Vegas Boulevard.  The Eiffel Tower calls in the background, while palm trees remind us we’re in the desert (although we didn't see any on the 340 mile drive…).  Most prominent is the “hot babes” truck, one of two which seem to circle endlessly up and down The Strip, promising that they can not only find a woman who wants to meet me, but also arrange for her to visit. I mentioned to my lovely wife that I thought that this would be an impressive feat – to finally find a woman who wanted to meet me – and might be worth the price of a phone call.

She muttered something along the lines of, “Talk about surrounded by illusions…” and walked on in the sunshine, shaking her head...

Eddie

Arizona, September, 2012 : Out of Context

Leica M6TTL    Lens : Elmar C 90mm f4     Film : Ilford HP5+      Developer : Ilford ID-11

I guess a photographer's "job" is to look at what everyone else is passing by and see it a little bit differently, then present it with a "look what you missed" in the form of a photograph.  Taking things out of context begins as soon as you look through the viewfinder to compose the image. What the photographer leaves out is as important as what is left in.

These are buffalo skulls, not from the deserts of Arizona - I walked some remote sandy areas with a guide and there definitely weren't any of these Plains-loving animals to be seen - but from the main street of Sedona, a tourist town in a very picturesque part of Arizona known as "Red Rock Country".

They can be found outside the Clear Creek Trading Company premises, piled against a barrel as advertising for the general theme of the store - native American goods, leathers, crafts and drums amongst many other things.  There's no hint of their store front location from the composition and framing chosen, though. So a viewer can put their own thoughts and story to the image (at least, they could have up to the point where I spilled the beans...).

I'd recommend a visit if you're in the area - both to Sedona  for the many walks and amazing landscape views it offers and the Clear Creek store for the seven rooms of interesting stuff they sell. Oh, and the skulls, of course...

Regards

Eddie

Las Vegas September 2012 : You wait ages for one...

Leica M6TTL   Lens : Voigtlander 35mm f2.5  Film : Ilford HP5+  Developer : Ilford ID-11

Along Las Vegas Boulevard they come in all shapes and sizes - Elvises, that is.  Tall ones, short ones, thin, plump, dark-skinned, light-skinned and any permutation on the theme.  Some sing, some with a guitar, some without. Some, thankfully perhaps, don't sing at all.

For reasons beyond my understanding they all choose to model the white jump-suit that couldn't possibly have been designed for life on the street at 35 degrees Celsius in the shade. I assume they gave the "comeback-all-black-leather-jacket-and-trousers" outfit a try and opted for the jump-suit.

All are happy to pose with "fans", passers-by, adults, children, male, female - for a small consideration, of course, say, $5 or so...

Here we have a range of sizes to suit any height / weight / age. It may have been the team brief just before the start of shift; a group huddle for motivational purposes. This being Las Vegas, of course, they could have been making a little wager among themselves for best / worst performance of the day - financial or musical...

Regards

Eddie

Venice June, 2011 : Lost in Venice #1

Camera Leica M4    Lens : Elmar C 90mm f4    Film : Ilford HP5+  Developer : Ilford ID-11

One of the most common sights in Venice is a tourist reading a Venice street map.

One of the most common frustrations in Venice is the realisation that Venice street maps don’t include the names of all Venice streets.

One of the most common discoveries in Venice is that Venice street maps almost certainly will not include the name of the street, square or bridge that you’re currently standing in / on or trying to find.

The gentleman in the photograph walked past us as we were sitting at lunch, or rather, as we were sitting at lunch and I was viewing passers-by and mentally categorising them into “people I would like to photograph” or “uninteresting” (and therefore not worth my expenditure on film materials). He had been placed firmly in the former. However, lunch on holiday is a leisurely affair and I hadn’t expected to see him again, given the time between the first sighting and the end of the food.

It was a pleasant surprise, then, to see him again just a couple of hundred yards away from the restaurant. Standing on a small bridge, map open, looking first in the direction he’d just come from, then in the direction he was heading, then at the map, then at the name of the bridge fixed high on the wall of the adjacent building. This cycle was repeated several times while I watched. I stood at the foot of the steps of the bridge and took two photographs of him during the repetitions.  He seemed, like so many in the medieval maze that is Venice, to be lost.

I moved up the steps and stood opposite him, intending to take at least one shot with a wider-angle lens. At this point he noticed me and, apologising for getting in the way of my photograph, ducked and walked down the steps on the other side of the bridge. I followed him and asked if the needed help. “Are you offering to help me?” he asked.  I noted his accent and thought that he might be German or Austrian. “Well, I know that the Rialto Bridge is in that direction and the Railway Station is that way,” I said, indicating the relevant directions with a wave of my hand.  “They are the two most prominent landmarks on this street.”

“I’m trying to find the name of this bridge,” he said. His English was excellent.  “I have been in two restaurants, one was good, one was bad. I want to tell my friends the name of the bad one so that they don’t go there when they arrive.”  I wondered briefly whether he was going to include the name of the good restaurant in his advice, which I thought might have been more useful i.e. knowing where to get a good meal would be better than knowing where not to get a good meal. 

“I’m from Switzerland,” he went on, “Have you been there?”  “Only once, on business,” I said, “Many years ago. A very brief visit and no time for sight-seeing, I’m afraid,”. “I came here by canoe,” he said.  My eyebrows rose involuntarily, “All the way from Switzerland?”  “Yes,” he confirmed, “And every year I spend three months in Canada canoeing in the wilderness there. It’s much better in the wilderness if you are on your own.”  Three months solo in the Canadian wilderness sounded even more impressive than the Switzerland to Venice trip.

We examined his German language Venice street map, but there was no clue as to the existence of the bridge where we stood, let alone its name. I took out my English language Venice street map (never leave home without it…).  Again, no reference to bridge, street or canal could be found.

“When I left Switzerland and navigated here, the Pole was always the Pole,” he said. “I managed to make my way to Venice with a compass and a map of the sea. Canada’s wilderness is full of rivers and lakes, it’s easy to be lost. But the Pole is always the Pole. Now I’m standing here in Venice with a street map in my hand and I can’t find the name of this bloody bridge!”  

We shared a few comments and laughed at this absurdity. “Thank you for helping me,” he said as we parted, reaching out to shake hands – although the grin we gave each other was in clear recognition of the useless nature of my contribution.  “No problem,” I replied, “If you don’t ask questions, you’ll never learn anything!”

Regards

Eddie