Hugh Rawson 3/29/24 Hugh Rawson 3/29/24

Seven Up - Best of 2023

I’ve always believed that it’s best to leave your images for sometime before processing them. You might call it letting them marinate. And I suppose that the same principle applies to this post because I’ve left it several months into 2024 to reflect on my images from 2023.

The images I’ve chosen are a combination of the ones that had the most likes on Instagram and a few of my own favourites. You will notice that these are all colour. I did have one or two black-and-white images that I wanted to include. However, they looked out of place within the overall feel of the colour gallery. There may well be a follow up post of black and whites.

With each image, I’ll try to give you an idea of how the image came to be. Not so much about meta data, but more about how I came to see the image as I did – the moment, the perspective, the point of view, and, perhaps most importantly, the feeling I was trying to put across at the time.

No use.

This may be my favourite image of last year because I’ve never actually seen anything quite like it. I do like using frames in my images. However, these tend to be fairly typical or obvious frames such as windows, doors or the side of a lamp post or an edge of a building to close off one side of the image. This was actually the reverse side of the cafe sign and I took the opportunity to shoot through the letters.

Inevitably, you will be wondering what the sign was. This was taken at the copper kettle, a very well-known café opposite Kings College in Cambridge. this is the reverse side of the entrance and the sign, reads restaurant and coffee house (or something like that). it was very much a spur of the moment shop; I hadn’t gone looking for it, I’ve never noticed it before. It was simply an opportune moment as I left the café.

As is so often the case, the café was full. Fortunately for me, on this occasion, it was filled by people wearing complementary shades of blue and grey which also resonated with the frosted grey blue glass of the window. Not only that, but the bright yellow of the butter on the plate on the right hand side, complements the blues beautifully everyone in the image, appears to be either engrossed in their food, or in conversation, No single person is shown fully, but each is impacted by the opaque frame. the frame itself, the letters ES and U in reverse also invite the question as to what they spell out.

To me, this is what street photography is all about– noticing things that are seemingly hiding in plain sight, making something every day noticeable and beautiful.

Very Tempting.

This image is connected to the previous one by being shot at a café. Whereas inverted commas no use “was shot on the exit from the café, this image was shot while enjoying the coffee on a sunny Sunday morning in June. As far as I’m concerned, from the moment I’ll leave the house until I return the camera stays by my side, and every second is a chance to make an image. Resting my legs, enjoying a flat white and a cheeky croissant can only improve the photographic experience.

This is an area of London That has changed hugely in the last few decades. Just off Tooley Street, new buildings of chrome steel and glass have replaced the Dickensian warehouses alongside the Thames of two centuries ago. it’s an area that is fun to shoot in all kinds of light and weathers. However, it is also prone to the over officious security guard and so shooting with a small bodied camera is recommended. Walking around with a fistful of DSLR always seem to get me, stopped and moved along. With the rangefinder no one seems concerned.

With one eye on the street, I will often choose to sit in the window in a café. I think I had to shuffle myself along a few times in order to give myself a view of Tower Bridge while also maintaining a clear view of that column of bright light. It’s always good to include a view of a landmark to give the viewer summit information about where the image was taken. This isn’t a photo about Tower Bridge, but I like the fact that it’s a small part of the frame. This pedestrianised area can get very busy and it wasn’t as quiet as perhaps it seems. Waiting for a solitary figure to frame themselves against that almost white background. Without anyone else in the frame took some time. It would have been cleaner without the small huddle of three people in the right hand frame moving towards the bridge – you can’t have it all.

The words “very tempting” on the sign at the bottom of the image, give the image its title. But I can’t help but wonder if they are a distraction. Of course, I could have removed them in post processing. However, that goes against the grain with me – if it’s in it stays in.

Part of what makes the image work for me, is the combination of straight lines in the geometry of the buildings, the shadows with the diagonal light of the windows, showing on the building ahead, and the curves of the lamps of the café, as well as the reflection. It’s almost as if there are three suns in a kind of Star Wars way. The blue tones of the morning complement the warmth of the sun and the globe lighting well. In fact, I initially posted this image in black-and-white, and it was more successful in terms of likes on Instagram than this colour version.

Lake Michigan Handrails

A blazing hot day, lakeside in Chicago; the harsh concrete platform, and the bright red handrails contrast beautifully with the inviting blue of Lake Michigan. Here, the beauty of the lake is only approached via the concrete jetty and the bright red handrails. The natural environment harshly butts against the man-made. It is partly this contrast that appeals to me.

In a more abstract way, I love the rectangles made by the two sides of the red handrail and the corresponding diamond, lozenge shaped shadows on the concrete. Similarly, the way the top of the handrails lineup with the horizon is aesthetically very satisfying.

There will be those that argue that this is not street photography. To me, street photography can be taken anywhere– in the street, on the beach, in the subway, at the airport, hey, even on the moon. The essential elements are that the image is candid and that there is evidence of human intervention.

Veil Descending

In a way, this image is more typical of the way I shoot. If there is such a thing as a contact sheet with digital images, you would see that this image is a one off. I was not working the scene; there was no image like this before or after it. It exists on its own.

To me, this is the real thrill of street photography – coming across a one-off moment or instance, which is gone in a flash (no pun intended). This was taken at the Art Gallery of Ontario in Toronto. It’s a magnificent building and, on an August afternoon, gorgeous, warm light floods the space. Rounding a corner on one of the walkways I came across this scene. I quickly brought the camera to my eye and did my best to frame all the converging lines of the arches as best I could.

The warm tones of the wood and the sunlight, the purity of the museum walls, and the main characters outfit beautifully complement the turquoise veil.

I find that the more I look at this picture, the more I see. It’s a complex mix of lines and light, shadows and curves and diagonals. It all takes place within the arch and there’s an inner arch which gently skirts the side of the outer arch. To capture the woman in the centre of the arch was almost entirely down to luck. The time it took her to move through what is probably less than 10 feet of that stairwell was just enough to get my one shot. If you look closely, there is another figure observing the scene from a window above. I think I wish she wasn’t there, but that’s street photography.

Swallowed

This is London Waterloo station, where the light at certain times of day is stunning, especially now that the old Eurostar rail terminal has been repurposed as additional platforms. Golden light pours down onto the lower concourse

Here, the shadows have a personality of their own, a dark, looming presence , which almost seems to chase the solitary figure from the scene. He’s clearly not hurrying, he’s being drawn into the subterranean safety of the London underground system. It makes me think Bill Brandt’s images of Londoners sheltering on the platforms during the Blitz in 1940.

Perhaps this is the last leg of our chap’s journey as he leaves behind the vestiges of his day, or maybe he’s heading out for an evening with mates. Either way the dark looming presence will soon be left behind. Maybe the poster asking “how did we do?” is calling him to reflect at the end of his working day.

A Shade After Twelve

This image was one of several I took within a very short space of time. I like them all, though mostly I prefer them in black-and-white. One showed just the architecture - the parliament building, Westminster Bridge, the Elizabeth Tower, and the arch, which frames them all. The modern graffiti contrasts sharply with the classical Victorian architecture in the distance. I have to assume the architecture will outlast the modern art. Another image was filled with tourists, umbrellas up, photographing the same scene without a thought for me who had been standing there all along – never mind, they actually improved the scene, as is so often the way. The image I’ve chosen makes the most of the individual and her red umbrella under that gunmetal sky.

The three different images were clearly taken within seconds of each other as the hands of the clock show. This one was taken just moments after midday - enabling me to use the pun a shade after twelve.

Time Stands Still

Baker Street has to be one of the most photographed tube stations. This is not the classic view and could’ve been taken in almost any of the hundreds of London Underground stations. I am always drawn to shooting on the tube. It’s not just that each station is different and has its own style. It’s not just the beautiful curves of the ceilings on the platforms and how they intersect with the straight lines of the track and the markings. For me there is a real thrill in taking photographs of people in an environment where you can easily be spotted or found out.

On the platforms, and even more so on the trains themselves, people are huddled close together for a concentrated slice of time. Everyone is waiting for the same thing – the train to pull in, the train to pull out, and for the train to reach its destination. For an intense time, everyone shares the same experience and there’s no escape if you are caught.

I went for a slow shutter speed and held steady - always a challenge in a rangefinder without image stabilisation. Luckily, the solitary passenger didn’t move as the train pulled in, enabling me to catch the moving train, while everything else is frozen still. I like the warm tones of the woman and her coat which compliment the cooler blues of the train as it moves through.

I’d love to know your thoughts. Let me know in the comments.

Oh… and happy New Year!

Hugh Rawson 2/5/23 Hugh Rawson 2/5/23

Mouthpiece 4: Year of the Rabbit

Year of the Rabbit - as seen from the edges in Chinatown, London.

Chinese Lanterns, Trafalgar Square, London.

I have always steered clear of the very popular. I’ve always been disappointed when a band I like have drifted into the mainstream. Always preferred the intimacy of a few people in a small venue to the big arena. Always avoided the big hitters - be they bands, movies, shows - whatever seems to be massively on trend has always somehow driven me away. I’ve always preferred to remain on the edge.

Maybe it is this position as the outsider that has drawn me to street photography. The Bystander. Watching from the edges - not fully immersed yet somehow not wanting to miss it completely.

I’m just as interested in the people around the event as the stars of the show, if not more so. The build-up, the preparation, the anticipation, the reactions. What makes up the whole experience. Perhaps this is why certain images have really resonated with me. Capa’s take on the 1939 Tour de France as it passed through Pleyben in Brittany- the crowd looking up the road in anticipation and then the crowd looking down the road following the race until it is out of sight; not a rider or bike in shot; just a succession of turned heads. Tony Ray Jones image of people watching the Trooping of the Colour. Henri Cartier Breton’s sleeping man in Trafalgar Square at the coronation of King George VI. Somehow these say so much about the main events which these photographers left others to record for posterity.

Robert Capa, Magnum Photos. Robert Capa and the Tour de France | photography | Agenda | Phaidon

Henri Cartier Bresson, Magnum Photos. The big picture: a comic take on a coronation by Henri Cartier-Bresson, 1937 | Henri Cartier-Bresson | The Guardian

Tony Ray Jones, Martin Parr Foundation. Tony Ray-Jones, Trooping the Colour, London, 1967 | Print Sales Gallery | The Photographers' Gallery

This year’s Chinese New Year celebrations in London’s Chinatown, like any year, were a fabulously colourful celebration, focusing around the carnival but with all kinds of preparations taking place. Decorations were hung and preened. Food prepared. Crabs weighed. Noodles crafted. Crowds slowly assembled. And, once the parade had passed through, dragons unmasked and demystified.

I was there. On the edges.

**A Photographic Life :**

This week I have found this conversation between Grant Scott and Bill Shapiro about photographers’ websites particularly interesting. Definitely a few things there that I will be adjusting about mine.

Til next time. Cheers,

Hugh

Hugh Rawson 8/18/21 Hugh Rawson 8/18/21

Set: Southsea April 2021

Southsea on a grey Saturday in April. 2021.

As we emerged, blinking, from lockdown, the south coast was gearing up for something of a summer - even if it wasn’t clear yet what it would be.

Here are a few images from Southsea on a grey Saturday in April.

Hugh Rawson 9/12/20 Hugh Rawson 9/12/20

Post Lockdown London - The New Normal

As London began to reopen in early July, I photographed the deserted streets.

I always remember seeing photographs from the Second World War showing streets with people rushing to sand bagged air raid shelters, or newspaper boys with hoardings proclaiming the outbreak of war, or crowds dancing jubilant in Trafalgar Square on VE Day. There was something mesmeric, possibly haunting, abut the familiarity but strangeness of these images. Here were places I knew, and scenes that were familiar, but distorted by the events that had transformed them at that point in time.

History has always fascinated me and part of it has been a desire to be able to go back and witness momentous events but to be able to do it safely. I think that would be my superpower, if I could choose one. And of course, I’d have a camera in hand.

I have always counted myself lucky that I grew up in a generation that never experienced the world wide conflicts that took place in the first half of the last century. These were events which in many ways defined the age and the generations that lived through them. Now, this global Corona Virus pandemic has provided our defining worldwide event.

The invention of the camera, less than two hundred years ago, gave to history the means to record more objectively and instantly than ever before. As street photographers, I truly believe that it is our responsibility to record our current times for those still to come, just as Bert Hardy, Bill Brandt and Alfred Eisenstaedt did for World War Two with their images of GIs, tube sheltering Blitzed Londoners or sandbagged Whitehall. I have always felt that the ubiquitous appearance of mobile phones, ear pods and vapes would be the accoutrements that would characterise our times when people looked back.

Then along came Covid-19.

Who could have predicted that summer 2020 would be defined by empty streets, face masks and huge government publicity campaigns? In actual fact, very much like World War Two.

So, I was keen to capture these street scenes. But not keen, also.

I wouldn’t be walking the streets of London with one eye skyward for a doodle bug, Stuka or V2 rocket. I wouldn’t get a siren warning of impending danger. My enemy was the Covid-19 virus - invisible, undetectable and potentially anywhere. After months of taking great care and working from home whenever possible, as the government advised, travelling on public transport and being out and about in London felt like a risk I possibly shouldn’t be taking. After all, I was only going to take photos. Who did I think I was? David Bailey?

But there was also a longing to return to normality and a desire to experience the creative process of making a photograph: that moment when everything else ceases to exist or, at least, to matter. Let’s face it. I needed to get back to street photography to recapture a sense of self, of what makes me me; if nothing else.

Two good reasons then - a responsibility to posterity and my own mental well being!

And so it was I found myself exiting an almost deserted Sunday morning train at London Waterloo, glasses steamed up from the mask that I was not yet used to wearing, camera clutched in my sweating right hand, phone gripped with my online ticket ready to scan at the gates.

Waterloo itself was immediately different with just a small number of people on the concourse. I wanted to capture the gates with all of the 2m distancing signage and encouragement to wash hands but was immediately pounced upon by three transport officials who wanted to know what I was doing. I suppose it’s not technically a public space so they were presumably within their rights to challenge me. I explained that I was a street photographer and they looked at each other and shrugged - seemingly proof enough of my credentials. I wasn’t quite so lucky a few moments later when another officious, uniformed woman told me I would need a permit to take photographs at Waterloo. Having shot there unchallenged many times, it did feel like a wartime restriction.

Moved along, the streets were deserted. I know it was a Sunday but it was a shock to see the streets around the station with no one on them. I crossed over Hungerford Bridge to Charing Cross. There seemed to be the lowest tide I had ever witnessed on the Thames (Sunday 5th July) which only served to make what should have been a glorious summer Sunday seem even more surreal. It was as if the people and old Father Thames were deserting the city.

In Trafalgar Square, Nelson gazed down on acres of stone, concrete and pigeons. There were the classic London red buses, making their rounds almost empty, but not a soul in the square.

The same was true of Piccadilly Circus - just a solitary figure at a hand sanitising kiosk, offering a squirt to anyone who happened to walk by. Hardly anyone did.

Regent Street was pretty much the same. Oxford Street only slightly busier, a handful of curious wanderers, but nothing like the usual melee of tourists, office workers and rough sleepers.

This was the day after the Boris Johnson’s government had allowed the pubs, bars and restaurants to reopen after weeks of lockdown. Soho had apparently been heaving with little acknowledgement of social distancing, as revellers enjoyed the cork fizzing out of the bottle of pent up frustrations. The following morning was quiet. Perhaps a hangover. But there was almost no one in good old London town.

Masks, NHS rainbows and thank yous, hand sanitising stations, closed signs on restaurants, familiar buses but fewer and empty, tube exits closed, pedestrians redirected... the first signs of normality.

Arriving home, I shared my images with intrigued friends and families, eager to see what had become of the capital city, just not quite ready to visit it themselves. And the the doubts crept in. Should I have gone? Had I caught anything? Would I be infecting anyone?

And the wait to know I was fine began.

Hugh Rawson 4/15/20 Hugh Rawson 4/15/20

Last Time Out.

Waterloo, London. Feb 2020.Fuji X-T3 25mm f2.8 1/500 sec — Waterloo, London. Feb 2020.
Fuji X-T3 25mm f2.8 1/500 sec

Whilst it also removes many freedoms, life in lockdown gives us plenty of opportunities. When have we ever had the luxury of Time that Covid19 has afforded us? Time to consider things in a far less hurried way.

“...every image seems to have become tainted by the virus...”

Without new photos to edit, many street photographers have gone back through their older images to find that precious nugget that was possibly missed last time round. Or the B List photos that never quite saw the light of the Instagram day. I haven’t quite reached there yet – but it’s on the horizon.

I postponed looking at the images from my last street photography walk for longer than usual because I knew that once I did, then that was it. No new street photos to edit for the foreseeable future.

Ride Or Stride. City of London. Feb 2020. Fuji X-T3 26mm f2.8 1/500 sec — Ride Or Stride. City of London. Feb 2020.
Fuji X-T3 26mm f2.8 1/500 sec

Week 3 of lockdown saw me take the plunge. I usually wait a week or longer if I can before editing anyway. It’s good practise, enabling me to see the images as they really are. Not subjectively.

Images that I work hard to take become invested in so much unnecessary weight because of the time spent trying to make them work or just to catch them in the first place. A week or two usually alleviates this nagging tug and I can look at them with less emotional attachment. This was now six weeks later, nearly seven. I’d done well.

“Times have changed and photos taken less than fifty days ago have already become historic images.”

What has happened this time is that every image seems to have become tainted by the virus, or at least by the lockdown situation. It’s hard to view a crowded street in the same way as it was when it was shot; or a tube train, crammed like sardines, without an element of judgement; or even a lone figure, without assuming they’re part of the isolation scenario, when actually it was just a quiet underpass.

Of course we read too much into those images with the short sighted lens of history which we are already wearing. Times have changed and photos taken less than fifty days ago have already become historic images. They speak of the past. It’s not a distant past and hopefully we will return to many of those freedoms that we took for granted sooner rather then later. But what will have changed?

One Last Time. Paternoster Square, London. Feb 2020. Fuji X-T3 55mm f2.8 1/500 sec — One Last Time. Paternoster Square, London. Feb 2020.
Fuji X-T3 55mm f2.8 1/500 sec

For those of you who are interested in kit, gear and where and when, these images were all shot on the Fuji X-T3 with the red badged 16-55mm lens. This is not my usual lens choice. My “go to” lens is the 23mm f1.4 which I love for its clarity and the focal length (equivalent to 35mm full frame) seems to fit about the right amount of street into the image. It allows me to get close and it forces me to get close, if that’s not a contradiction. This time, however, I chose the 16-55mm zoom.

“It’s always good to mix things up.”

One reason for this choice was that I had wanted to try some images in the city where I could experiment with contracting the scene which I knew the longer focal length would allow. Secondly, I was not specifically on a photowalk. I wasn’t out for the whole day but was going to meet up with some other photographers and see the exhibition My London hosted by 3 Street Gallery featuring the work of Brandon Wong, Craig Whitehead, Joshua K Jackson, Josh Edgoose, Mavis CW, Mark Fearnley, Mo Barzegar, Sean Tucker and Shane Taylor. The longer lens, if it proved too heavy or somehow inappropriate, would be only for a relatively short time on my walk to and from the exhibition. It’s always good to mix things up.

The Last Coffee. City of London. Feb 2020Fuji X-T3 55mm f7 1/500 sec — The Last Coffee. City of London. Feb 2020
Fuji X-T3 55mm f7 1/500 sec

For those of you who know these streets, my route took me from Waterloo along the Southbank to the National Theatre and over Blackfriars Bridge, up to St Pauls and Paternoster Square, then up through the backsides of The City to Broadgate, and back to Waterloo via Bank.

Orange. The South Bank, London. Feb 2020.Fuji X-T3 55mm f7 1/500 sec — Orange. The South Bank, London. Feb 2020.
Fuji X-T3 55mm f7 1/500 sec

Hugh Rawson 11/1/19 Hugh Rawson 11/1/19

Instagram: Doing it for the love - not for the likes

In my last post I wrote about Instagram being a huge social melting pot with representatives of just about every person you could possibly imagine - the best bar in the world.

I want to you to grab a pint in that bar now and settle back while I talk about my views on what makes it work for me. This is purely personal so please take it with a pinch of salt (and vinegar crisps) but bear in mind that my thoughts and experiences are likely to be similar and even familiar to you.

As I mentioned before “for photo sharing, it’s the best place we have to display our media to a wide audience.” Okay so the image is going to be relatively tiny but think of the coverage compared to what you may have had EVER before. Use that small phone sized image as a taster for your website – an aperitif, if you will – for those higher resolution images if you want.

Of course, if you can show your images then so can anyone. Hence the vast amount of traffic all day every day. Because of the two-way nature of Instagram I am going to write about what I think should be posted in a photographer’s feed – which images to post, which to leave out and how to manage it. Then I will write about what I want to see from others when I open Instagram each time.

A Photographer’s Feed:

Shoot for yourself - firstly, post the pictures that you would want to see. One of the reasons I wanted to take photos was that no one was quite expressing what I wanted to see in a photograph. If you are shooting the images you want to see then you should be posting them too.

That’s much easier said than done; especially when likes and followers begin to be taken into account. It’s very easy to get drawn into posting images that you think will garner most likes and new followers. You should resist this as much as possible. Shoot and post for you – there are enough people out there who over time will find and appreciate what you are doing if it is of quality. That way you post images you believe in and, most importantly, you develop your own distinctive style. I love reflections, night scenes, harsh light, umbrellas, shadows, silhouettes, smokers, hats, close ups and details, wide scenes, layers, reds, blues, high contrast black and whites, juxtapositions - and that means I shoot all of those. Not just hats; or silhouettes; or steamy Soho night scenes… as much as I love them, or whatever else is currently getting the love.

Feedback – better to give and receive

I relish meaningful feedback - especially when it comes from other photographers who I admire and respect. Criticism is so important if we are to grow and develop our craft. We all know how an image that we have spent ages framing up, processing and posting can easily just be seen through our own optimistic glasses. We wonder why others can’t see the amazing image that we waited for hours in the rain to catch. But the viewpoint of others means so much if we are to progress. Instagram gives us a ready-made audience for our work; ready made to offer tips, advice and, if you’re lucky, plaudits, for what we post.

The downside, and the one danger of Instagram, is that it can massage your ego rather than keeping it in check. Like for a like does not necessarily engender criticism. However, if someone gives up their time to comment on something I have posted then that should not be discounted. It’s a big deal. And I will try to repay that with a comment in return. As I said in my previous post, this is the social part of Instagram. It’s where relationships are forged. So, welcome comments – and be positive in return. Be nice – “if you can’t say something nice then say nothing at all” is a good maxim. Criticism helps us grow but nurturing feeds us.

Networking – we are social animals, even if it doesn’t always seem like it. And if you have signed up for an Instagram account then you can bet you are among the more sociable of those social animals. Feedback in both directions creates relationships - you’ll be surprised how well you get to know other photographers. The next step is often for some of these online relationships to become “meet-ups” and photowalks where you can share and explore great places to shoot, gear ideas and thoughts, and inspire one another. There is nothing like shooting in an area with other creative photographers to raise your game. But even without a physical meet-up, the benefit of interacting online can be much like the benefits of a shared photowalk.

Hashtags – something of a dirty word, or at least fraught with opinion and division. Basically, if you don’t use hashtags you may as well pop a photo in a glass bottle and fling it in the North Sea. The chances of anyone finding your work will be remote. A few (up to 30) well-chosen hashtags relevant to your image (don’t use #blackandwhite if the image is colour) will ensure that it gets noticed. I’m no expert but it seems like a Goldilocks problem – the popular hashtags are so huge that your work won’t appear for long enough to be seen, whereas the tiny hashtags will have little reach. They need to be just right to get picked up. Oh, and they change over time. And don’t start me on the algorithm. I’m not wasting time trying to guess what it’s doing or how it works.

And finally, on your own feed, don’t worry about the number of likes - hard to do and I wish I could say I didn’t always, but I am getting better and, yes, it is very liberating. I honestly feel that if I post what I want to see then I will find people who follow me because they see the world in the same way or are interested in how I see the world.

In short, post for you - and be nice.

What I see:

I want to be inspired. I want you to post images that stop me and make me think.

Surprise me - develop your own style but I don't simply post variations of the same thing all the time.

Keep your feed clean – by that I mean stick to one genre (for want of a better word). I don’t want photos of meals, mountains, mates… I am a street photographer and you can tell this by looking at my feed. The feeds I want to follow are street photography feeds too. If you want to photograph your kids, pets, holidays that’s great, but have a feed for them. You can have as many feeds as you can manage. However, if you want me to follow your street work then that will be all I want to see.

And curate your feed - don’t follow a travel photographer unless you want shots of pyramids and elephants in your feed. Follow for a follow soon clutters up your feed with people who are not genuinely interested in you or what you are posting – but are genuinely interested in having you on their follower list. If I don’t follow you, it’s not personal. I’ve found some amazing images on Instagram but if they aren’t street photography I won’t follow them on my street feed.

Hashtags – the double-click on an image is a really great way of liking a picture – far simpler than navigating to the heart to click. However, there’s nothing more irritating to me to find the image is filled with hashtags. Use hashtags in the caption or the comments - not on the image; no one wants to suddenly find they’re whisked away to somewhere else just because they tried to like your image.

Don’t tag me in an image just to get me to look at it. If I’m in it, or if it’s truly relevant then fine. But if you just want me to see you then it’s just noise and its irritating. It’s like knocking on my door and legging it.

So…

Accept it for what it is – probably the best image sharing tool we currently have it. Enjoy it. Do it for the love – not for the likes.

This was going to be a few thoughts – I hope it’s not too much of a rant (oh dear) – most of all I hope you find it useful. Let me know in the comments below.

Have a good one.

Hugh Rawson 7/6/19 Hugh Rawson 7/6/19

Art On A Postcard

I am hugely honoured to behave been invited to contribute three photographs to the latest art On A Postcard exhibition which is showing upstairs in Old Spitalfields Market in London this week.

Art on a Postcard raises money for The Hepatitis C Trust as it aims to eliminate hepatitis C by 2025. Urban artist Ben Eine and street photographer Dougie Wallace have curated this latest exhibition. Every one of the urban artists and street photographers has donated their work for free.

Each image is made into a postcard which is then auctioned via the website. Bids start at £50. Each artist remains anonymous until the auction closes on 12th July. If you know an artist and their work you will probably be able to identify their images within the selection of postcards. Or you may get a nice surprise. I like the idea that you bid for an image you like - not just for the artist you perhaps follow on social media.

It’s featured on London Live :

The exhibition closes on 7th July but the auction continues until 12th July and is online at https://www.artonapostcard.com/spitalfields-2019

Hugh Rawson 4/22/19 Hugh Rawson 4/22/19

Book Review - "Street Photography Is Cool" by John Lewell

John Lewell is a name that may be familiar to some of you as the founder of the Streetphotoindex and of his own top ten UK listed blog at www.johnlewellphotography.com

John recently published his own eBook entitled Street Photography is Cool – and it is available on Amazon.

John is an extremely erudite writer, as you would expect from a Cambridge graduate, who is both well read and well travelled. He demonstrates great knowledge of many aspects of art and culture, and this informs both his own photography and his views on shooting on the street.

This is not a “how to” book but is more a walk through many of John’s thoughts on different aspects and challenges of shooting on the street, using his own images as examples. Each chapter begins with a reason - “street photography is cool because…” much in the style of the “Love is…” Schultz cartoons that so many of us will have grown up with.

From the outset John is keen that street photographers should develop their own style, putting down the manual and getting out and shooting as much as possible. He acknowledges that he is largely self-taught, eschewing the influence of the “greats” in order to develop his own style.

“Once other photographers have shown us how they see the world we start to see it in the same way. That's why I didn't start to look comprehensively at other people's work until I'd developed a style of my own.”

John acknowledges that street photography is not easy. “Without intense desire and motivation no one can succeed as an artist.” He picks his way through a lot of the challenges that will be familiar to anyone who has tried to shoot candid images on the street and illustrates these with analysis of images from his own back catalogue. These insights are reassuringly familiar and will resonate loudly. John has clearly considered these issues at length and over time. However, they are very personal views.

At some points in the book I felt urged to debate some of the points that John made. His writings are fairly black and white (pardon the pun) on certain issues – particularly concerning black and white photography, for example. In “It's a Colourful World” he writes:

“I'm still puzzled why so many people still cling to black & white, given today's versatile and sophisticated colour tools. I can only put it down to their reluctance to embrace change: a deep obstinacy rooted in habit and tradition.”

To me, this misses the point entirely. Black and white is a tool at the photographer’s disposal which, given that the two dimensional image (the photograph) is already an abstraction from the reality of 3d, allows a further level of abstraction and expression.

On developing a personal style John writes:

It's far better to allow your style to grow out of your interaction with reality. It will come naturally from your selection of subjects, from how sympathetic you are to them , from your distance or closeness to them , and from whether you can find a little bit of originality in the way you portray them . I think originality in art is vastly overrated and has led to all kinds of unnecessary and ultimately sterile disruptions. The " little bit of originality " of which I speak is to be glimpsed in your personal style. It's what comes from the photographer in response to reality, rather than from anywhere else.

This is very much a matter of opinion, as is any subjective evaluation of any work of art. However, I was surprised that John, with all of his cultural acumen, seeks to encourage photographers to seemingly seek to operate in a vacuum of their own work. To me, it is about learning from those who have gone before, from their successes and their mistakes, and seeking to take the elements that we, as individuals, most like from each of these giants upon whose shoulders we plant our tripods. Similarly, we should seek to be influenced by as wide a range of cultural and artistic experiences, not purely photographic, as possible in order to broaden our creative vision. John has such a cultural wealth at his fingertips that I was most surprised to read his thoughts on this.

I was particularly struck by John’s thoughts on the future of street photography at a time when private and public identities have never been so mixed. He warns:

“Eventually, a database of street photos may itself be tied in with tags on social media , enabling us to identify the majority of people we photograph on the street . Tomorrow, everyone will be in the public eye . When all is revealed by face recognition technology I wouldn't be surprised if street photography were not outlawed altogether in many countries. Either that, or people will take to wearing masks and camouflage.”

He recognises the responsibilities that we have as photographers on the street and shares views on shooting courteously and within the law. He gives tips on the importance of limbering up for a day on the street, ensuring that you are in:

“…the right frame of mind to take street photos . That's because you need to be able to see beyond the obvious, to find the extraordinary in the ordinary , and to anticipate the next few moments almost as though you can see into the future...”

This is so true.

In the main, John represents the world of the street photographer well.

“Every true street photograph represents a unique occurrence, captured in a moment of time that can never be repeated . You were its witness; and your photo , however ill composed or badly taken , will have intrinsic value of its own .

Self- publication is very much easier today than ever before. John explains

“I've used only my own photos to illustrate the various topics. Although restricting the book in this way probably gives it stylistic coherence, it doesn't acknowledge the rich variety of approaches taken by contemporary photographers.”

It would be interesting to sit down (with a bottle of wine or a couple of pints of ale) with a dozen images taken by the street photography greats or, indeed, those of contemporary photographers, and discuss our various opinions.

Like all good books, Street Photography Is Cool raises plenty of arguments and generates even more discussion. John has done well to publish a work that so clearly puts forward his views as he walks us through his images.

Hugh Rawson 3/20/19 Hugh Rawson 3/20/19

Best of February 2019

Sixteen from February out and about on the streets of London and Cambridge.

I would love to hear your comments below.

Click on the image to go LARGE.

Hugh Rawson 11/5/18 Hugh Rawson 11/5/18

British Photography Awards

Thrilled to be shortlisted in the Street category of the British Photography Awards with my image All The Fun Of The Fair.

All The Fun Of The FairChiddingfold, Surrey. 2018. — **All The Fun Of The Fair**
Chiddingfold, Surrey. 2018.

Part of the competition is a public vote and you can vote for my image by clicking on the image which will take you to the link.

Please do look at the other images and categories - there is some amazing talent on show.

Twitter: @GBPhotoAwards

Instagram: @britishphotographyawards

Facebook: @britishphotographyawards

Hugh Rawson 9/10/18 Hugh Rawson 9/10/18

Imitate, Innovate, Invent

Who's the leader?Hungerford Bridge, London. Sept 2018. — Who's the leader?
Hungerford Bridge, London. Sept 2018.

Sometimes it seems that there is an almost constant reassessment and reevaluation of social media. Often the most vocal critics are those who seem unable to walk away from it. Personally, I enjoy the opportunities to learn from others’ work, and to place my own in the public eye for a far wider audience than I could ever have dreamed of. The way I see it, we are all learners, learning all the time - to a greater or lesser extent. Even those with tens of thousands of followers post disappointing images sometimes. And do you know what? They probably never feel completely satisfied with their work either. I bet that occasionally they post photos that they expect to be met with great acclaim, only to find the silent curse of internet tumbleweed blowing through their feed. Just as I do. And at other, less-inspired times, they probably post something that’s been gathering virtual dust in the cellar of their hard drive, only to find it being greeted with wide acclaim and a posse of new followers. Just as I do.

We are all seeking the ultimate photograph. That one shot that says it all!

It’s human nature to want to get better at whatever we are doing. We are also our own harshest critics, pointing out why our latest great hope is actually fatally flawed. We failed to nail it. Name your top three all time greatest photographers and I guarantee that they would tell you that they never nailed it either. Cartier-Bresson, Winogrand, Leiter, that Instagram shooter with a squillion followers… If only we could ask them.

It’s natural to be striving for improvement; for innovation; for that new angle. There’s always something we could do better next time.

Throughout history people have been inspired by others. It’s natural to want to recreate something that has brought us pleasure. That does not mean a direct imitation - plagiarism - but a desire to create something which evokes the same feeling, creates the same atmosphere, has the same message; or any combination of these and more. We learn by imitating. It helps us to understand what the originator did - be it artistic, scientific, sporting - whatever...

Once we have understood how something was done, we can then assimilate that technique into our own skillset. We are in a new position - we are able to innovate. Taking our new skills, we bring our own background, experiences, tastes etc to the creative process and can now shoot a new image. This image is rooted in all we learned from the original artist but we have moved it beyond imitation to create something new. This innovation is all part of finding our “voice” or distinctive style.

We have all experienced knowing who took a particular image before being told, simply by recognising certain elements and features of their style. With perseverance, the best artists find their own distinctive, easily identifiable style. They have learned their craft and have moved beyond imitation and innovation, based upon their initial artist led inspiration, to a higher state where they are able to use their hard earned skills to create something totally new, in their own unique voice. This is invention. Invention needs both imitation and innovation. No one invents in a creative void, out of nowhere.

This is the learning process. It is something everyone goes through - from learning to speak to painting the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Pick up a photography magazine and you will read an interview in which professionals tip their hats to those who have gone before. They are happy to acknowledge the influence of a Robert Frank, a Cartier-Bresson, a Garry Winogrand. Or go to a big hitter on Instagram and you’ll find that very often their feed will happily direct you to others who they admire. Even the first photographers (without any photographers to emulate) were influenced by the fine artists of the past, learning composition from the painters and sculptors of the previous thousands of years.

It was partly as a result of a recent tense exchange on social media that I decided to put down these words. The debate centred around the use of public spaces and whether one photographer can claim to own a specific view because they believe they shot there first. The streets are busy places and London (perhaps more than other cities at the present time) is seemingly filled with street photographers. Beyond that, anyone with a smartphone has the capacity to shoot in these popular places. The great views are, after all, popular for the very reason that they are great views. Some places will be there for centuries to come - monuments, grand buildings, landmarks. Others are more transitory than others - advertising hoardings, building sites etc. Perhaps the work of another photographer encourages us to emulate their work in a certain place, or even to feel that we can build on what they achieved, having a go at creating something new for ourselves as we seek to present our own unique take on our surroundings. Once we can imitate what they have created, we can then innovate and finally invent our own unique image. Each of us is a singular and creative individual - each with our own unique outlook, background, likes, dislikes, tastes and way of seeing. We are all striving to develop our own voice or style that incorporates that uniqueness - but we need to learn from those around us and those who went before.

There is room for us all.

Hugh Rawson 9/2/18 Hugh Rawson 9/2/18

Carnival

Highlights from Notting Hill Carnival 2018.

And so to Notting Hill...

What an amazing event the carnival was. Nothing any camera can do will ever come close to capturing the noise and the atmosphere but the colours and sheer liveliness of carnival was amazing. A true melting pot of all the best that multi-cultural London can offer.

You can check out my images from carnival by clicking the image below:

Hugh Rawson 8/2/17 Hugh Rawson 8/2/17

Staying in shape.

Writer’s block isn’t something which affects photographers. At least not in the literal sense. However, the lack of creative inspiration must surely strike at every creative soul at some point. I don’t have a solution except to push through it.

Last week, as I mentioned, I visited Oxford with a fellow snapshot junkie. It had been some weeks since I had picked up the camera for anything more than just the chance of a shot on a shopping trip. This was to be a dedicated photo-walk in a place that we knew a fairly well. And where no one was going to recognise us.

The camaraderie was great. The photography, at least on my part, not so good. I just couldn’t get my eye in. I lopped off limbs, heads and halves of bodies. I’m sure part of it was the fact that I hadn’t been picking up my camera as often - muscle memory let me down. It just didn’t come easy. But it wasn’t just the mechanics. My eye was not seeing things it would normally see. It all just went to show that I really do need to keep shooting to stay “in shape."

I’m quite used to the fact that looking through images on the back of the camera over a pint is usually disappointing. Most of what I shoot (and most street photographers will say the same) is disposable and only fit for the delete button trash can. This time there were even fewer gems. Very disheartening.

And it was made worse by the fact that the shooting conditions and light were fabulous. The early evening sun was a beautiful summer gold that was further enhanced by the yellow stone of the old city buildings. It should have all been so good.

There was nothing to do but push through and keep shooting. Since then, I've gone back over the shots and one or two are okay. I’ve gone back to the masters - Leiter, Herzog, Webb, Gruyaert, Haas for their masterful use of colour. And I’ve gone out again - a short few hours in London. It seems to have worked - although the photos from this particular trip are awaiting the first cut and processing - and my eye is seeing and framing things the way it should.

Lesson learned.