Talking Street

Come and join me as I talk about how I shoot street.

Thursday 30th November - an evening opportunity to enjoy The Seeing Eye exhibition at Farnham Pottery - then sit back and listen as I share my philosophy and techniques for street photography, with opportunities to view recent work.

For more info: The Seeing Eye

The Frame With No Name

If you read my last blog you will know that I am in the process of preparing for my first exhibition. When I say “my exhibition,” I have a small space to myself alongside five other photographers. But it’s my space. And I love it. Or, at least, I will.

Hyde Park Shower

I’ve learned a lot in the last few days. Decided who will print the photographs; narrowed in on a few potential paper types; worked out the optimum sizes; considered framing and not framing and decided on framing; looked at an unbelievable range of shades of white....

I’ve even met my framer.

And all the decisions have been mine. Something I guess I’m not used to. No one else's opinions to listen to this time. I suppose it doesn’t really matter to anyone else. It’s my show.

And as the options narrow as each decision is made, one decision begins to loom large. 

Should I title my photographs?

One of the things that draws me to street photography is the way it captures a place and event in time. I remember looking at early photographs of my home town and imagining how it must have been to have lived there decades before - no cars; long-since-disappeared timber framed houses where they “put up a parking lot,” and so on. Glimpses of the past still fascinate me. Today, there’s remains something in me which needs to record dates and places. That’s fine. So perhaps I should scrawl Paris, August 2017 alongside a cafe scene. But then again, do I need to broadcast those alongside the photograph for everyone else just because I’m interested? My framers suggests not recording the place because people then bring their own interpretation. A scene that appeals to them, and perceive as being London could turn out to be Berlin. What may be Paris for some could be London, or Barcelona for others...

But why do I feel the need to add a title? Perhaps it’s the story teller in me. The best street photography undoubtedly hints at ( or even broadcasts) a narrative. Does a title steer it too heavily or does it enable the viewer to see it a little more as the photographer saw it?

Maybe it’s another way of fixing a particular shot in the memory. When you’ve left the exhibition, turned the page or browsed to another site, how do you conjure up the memory of the image if you have no words to do so? Can you really recall a particular shot if it is simply referred to by the way the light falls across a scene and who it falls upon? How do you refer to it in conversation?

So, having written this, I’ve decided that my framed photographs will be titled. Probably place-less. I like the fact that each shot is part of an untold story. Sometimes the stories will fit together in a longer narrative. Sometimes they stand alone. Whether they are true representations, or entirely imagined snaps from a fragment of time, is irrelevant. They exist. And they deserve a name. Like children.

I need your help.

Yesterday I visited Farnham Pottery Arts (www.thefarnhampottery.co.uk, an old working pottery close to home that was rescued from the property developers to become an arts centre and a home for several professional potters and other kick-wheel enthusiasts. It’s a fabulously creative place. You can feel as soon as you step inside.

The reason for my visit is that in a few weeks’ time my very first public exhibition of my photographs will be held there. I’m down on the bill of five other photographers in the series The Seeing Eye which is looking at how artists (in this case photographers) respond to their environment. For me, specifically, the street. It’s hugely flattering.

Unlike those who shot back in the good old bad old days, my photos exist on screen only - in the cloud, on my MacBook, my phone, my website, Instagram, Twitter, 500px, Facebook - almost everywhere. Just nowhere that you can actually reach out and touch them. And this poses a multitude of questions. In fact, the learning curve seems akin to scaling Everest at the moment - there are so many decisions to make.

I need your help…

I have a small space - low down the bill, (did I mention that?) - so choosing a handful of my current faves shouldn’t kill me. However, …then what?

How do I go about finding the right place to get them printed?

What paper?

What ink?

What size?

And what about mounting? Or unmounted?

How much should I charge to any interested buyers?

Who knew Everest was also surrounded by a minefield?

I would be genuinely grateful of any tips, pointers or "don’t do’s" that any of you may come up with to any of these questions (except the Everest one). Comment below or email me hugh@hughrawson.com

And if you’re in Surrey between 7th Nov and 7th Dec this year then chug along to Farnham Pottery to support me and the other more famous five…