Have a look at the photos folder on your smartphone. At the time of writing, I have 14,671 pictures on my phone. Now have a look on your computer. My Lightroom library has well over 800,000 pictures in it. I know I rarely look at these pictures. As a professional photographer, naturally the majority of these images are assignment work; some dull, some interesting, but once I’ve put all my energy in creating the work and giving it to the client, theses just aren’t looked at. With the exception of looking through them annually to find images suitable for competitions.
A sizeable portion of these images though are personal images. Pictures of family, friends and dear loved ones. Once in a while, I might come across a shot when looking for something. I’m sure the same is true for most people. The feelings of joy, memories and smiles this experience brings is truly wonderful. However, this is a rare occurrence, as these digital images of ones and zeros are just kept on memory chips or magnetic disks.
When I walk through my apartment though, I’m always looking at the prints on the walls. Even smaller Instax type prints. These photographs are part of my day to day. Images by colleagues whose work I love and images of loved ones, part of my personal history, dotted around the rooms. These photographs are living and sharing my life. Not in binary code, tucked away in virtual folders.
Probably my biggest connection with a photograph though is that of my late father. I shot a portrait of him a few years before he passed away and made a beautiful 16’x12” black and white hand print in the darkroom. My mother had this framed and every time I visit her, I’m always drawn to it, with a depth of emotional power that I simply wouldn’t feel if I saw the same image on a screen. No matter where one sits in the front room, that photograph grabs the viewer. It’s always a topic of conversation with anyone who sees it and I know for us, we always value the bittersweet connection.
My partner Yoshie Nishikawa and I were looking through some prints in an exhibition and she commented on one image; this old photograph is so powerful. Not great camera, lens or technique. Time is in that picture.
When an image is on a screen, for some reason we’re immediately tempted to zoom in to 100% and look critically at sharpness and technical aspects, completely forgetting about the actual photographs. Prints though, make us look at that image, create a connection and have an emotional and, or intellectual reaction. To feel something; to learn something. To think. For me, these are the reasons behind a photograph; not it’s critical technical aspects being looked at under the virtual magnifying glass.
In these days of tablets and laptops, its simply the easy option to stick our portfolios on them. Shiny, cold screens, often covered in greasy finger prints. Then we take these to clients who spend 8-12 hours a day glued to their own screens. My portfolio has always been one of prints. Every time I show my portfolio to a client, they always comment on how nice it is to look through prints. They slow down and actually see the work, as opposed to flicking through pixels of colour, in a hurry to return to other pixels colour on a different, cold, finger print covered screen.
When digital photography first took a foothold, I really missed my time in the darkroom. To strive for a perfect monochrome print. The joy of holding a photograph, seeing it, looking into it and being able to share it. The obvious thing was to buy a printer, so I went through several expensive A3 printers, which at best provided mediocre results, at huge waste age of inks and papers.
Now though, things have changed. Inkjet prints, even from small, cheap sub £100 printers is amazingly good. Step up to proper photographic printers and I would argue that the quality of these Giclée prints is as good, if not better than traditional wet prints. Workflows, profiles, inks and calibration are now no longer the domain of the specialist and most of us can make decent prints in our homes. Add to this so many excellent online photo labs, at varying price points, that it makes sending off for a print or two very straight forward. There is also the photo book market, which whilst different, still offers a tactile and real item that one will actually look at.
Printed images, as long as they’re cared for will last. No worries about backups and the Cloud. You should do these of course, but to enjoy a photograph, it needs to be printed. Not to mention how clueless our families and friends will be once we pass on and our work remains hidden behind passwords and log in details, to only eventually disappear. One of the aspects of photography which really attracted me was that if you made a strong photograph, it would far outlast our mortal self.
Dig up your favourite images, be they personal pictures of your own history, hobby photographs, or assignment work. Print, see and enjoy.
A sizeable portion of these images though are personal images. Pictures of family, friends and dear loved ones. Once in a while, I might come across a shot when looking for something. I’m sure the same is true for most people. The feelings of joy, memories and smiles this experience brings is truly wonderful. However, this is a rare occurrence, as these digital images of ones and zeros are just kept on memory chips or magnetic disks.
When I walk through my apartment though, I’m always looking at the prints on the walls. Even smaller Instax type prints. These photographs are part of my day to day. Images by colleagues whose work I love and images of loved ones, part of my personal history, dotted around the rooms. These photographs are living and sharing my life. Not in binary code, tucked away in virtual folders.
Probably my biggest connection with a photograph though is that of my late father. I shot a portrait of him a few years before he passed away and made a beautiful 16’x12” black and white hand print in the darkroom. My mother had this framed and every time I visit her, I’m always drawn to it, with a depth of emotional power that I simply wouldn’t feel if I saw the same image on a screen. No matter where one sits in the front room, that photograph grabs the viewer. It’s always a topic of conversation with anyone who sees it and I know for us, we always value the bittersweet connection.
My partner Yoshie Nishikawa and I were looking through some prints in an exhibition and she commented on one image; this old photograph is so powerful. Not great camera, lens or technique. Time is in that picture.
When an image is on a screen, for some reason we’re immediately tempted to zoom in to 100% and look critically at sharpness and technical aspects, completely forgetting about the actual photographs. Prints though, make us look at that image, create a connection and have an emotional and, or intellectual reaction. To feel something; to learn something. To think. For me, these are the reasons behind a photograph; not it’s critical technical aspects being looked at under the virtual magnifying glass.
In these days of tablets and laptops, its simply the easy option to stick our portfolios on them. Shiny, cold screens, often covered in greasy finger prints. Then we take these to clients who spend 8-12 hours a day glued to their own screens. My portfolio has always been one of prints. Every time I show my portfolio to a client, they always comment on how nice it is to look through prints. They slow down and actually see the work, as opposed to flicking through pixels of colour, in a hurry to return to other pixels colour on a different, cold, finger print covered screen.
When digital photography first took a foothold, I really missed my time in the darkroom. To strive for a perfect monochrome print. The joy of holding a photograph, seeing it, looking into it and being able to share it. The obvious thing was to buy a printer, so I went through several expensive A3 printers, which at best provided mediocre results, at huge waste age of inks and papers.
Now though, things have changed. Inkjet prints, even from small, cheap sub £100 printers is amazingly good. Step up to proper photographic printers and I would argue that the quality of these Giclée prints is as good, if not better than traditional wet prints. Workflows, profiles, inks and calibration are now no longer the domain of the specialist and most of us can make decent prints in our homes. Add to this so many excellent online photo labs, at varying price points, that it makes sending off for a print or two very straight forward. There is also the photo book market, which whilst different, still offers a tactile and real item that one will actually look at.
Printed images, as long as they’re cared for will last. No worries about backups and the Cloud. You should do these of course, but to enjoy a photograph, it needs to be printed. Not to mention how clueless our families and friends will be once we pass on and our work remains hidden behind passwords and log in details, to only eventually disappear. One of the aspects of photography which really attracted me was that if you made a strong photograph, it would far outlast our mortal self.
Dig up your favourite images, be they personal pictures of your own history, hobby photographs, or assignment work. Print, see and enjoy.
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