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The seven deadly Flickr sins!

... and the places you go to heal.

The seven deadly Flickr sins!

So a few days ago I put this photo on my personal Facebook page. To say it received a lot of attention (for me anyway) is an understatement. Regular followers both there and here will know that self portraits aren't a rarity for me; they do pop up from time to time. After a few comments it was decided I should do some of my normal spiel/commentary to go with it.

So, I have a theory. As much as I'd like to think the sight of me with bare shoulders is enough to attract the unwanted attention of everyone on earth as though I'm some kind of sex symbol, I'm not capable of belief of such huge lies. So I linked the attention of the photo to something that I've been harping on about both here over the years and almost constantly to my students.

Portraits are not photos with people in them. Portraits are more. They require the interaction between the photographer and subject, the focus, the connection. A good portrait should give the viewer an insight into the soul and mind of the subject. Do these things and you have a cracking portrait recipe, leave them out and you may have a visual feast but the meal has gone stale, and you need more to really grab you.

I tell people that in order to make a really good portrait you need to engage with the subject and get a dialogue going, to interact and engage. Think about it, most of the very best portraits you'll ever see are simple photographically, but the connection between the photographer and the subject (and therefore the viewer) is so strong it's like the camera was never there. You're not looking at a photo of someone, you're almost looking straight at that person.

I also tell photographers, people who often prefer to hide behind the camera as opposed to be in front of it, that every now and then shooting yourself is a good reminder of what it's like to be examined by a lens. Knowing both sides of the camera is good for your balance and your appreciation of what it is you ask your own portrait sitters to go through.

I have also told close friends who are photographers in the past (and I've said it here too) that when you're all kinds of messed up inside or you feel like you're ready to pop because you have something inside you need to let out, shoot it. Use your camera and creativity as a voice. The photos don't have to be anything, to try and say anything profound, just let them be; let it out. The results often shine simply because they're fueled by something so meaningful.

So where am I going with this? I have a theory that this photo has got the attention it has because of these things. It's a shot where you have to lay yourself bare, putting yourself in front of the camera forces you to deliver yourself to it. It was a photo created at a time where I am amidst a deep and heady mix of complications and worries in my mind, of euphoric highs and desperate lows; of stress and tiredness; sunshine days and rainy nights, and a pent up feeling of needing to release and express was brewing. And if you're making a portrait you have to connect and show something real about the person, and what better way to do that than be able to allow yourself a few moments to feel what's going on in life, good, bad or ugly and point a camera straight at it?

I see a number of self portrait photographers on Flickr here, so many of them make jaw-dropping pictures, yet the genuinely amazing portraits are reserved for those few who can open themselves up and show the camera how they're really feeling without shying away.

I don't think personally, there's anything awesome about this shot in terms of 'photography' as such, it's just a nice photo, but I do think it's as true an insight into me at a time of heavy thought as I could give anyone, photographer or not. It examines, truly, and purely.

For those who've seen this already this week, thank you. For those that see it now, hopefully you like it too, and this ramble makes sense. :) There are a few extras on my blog if you want a looksie.

(More 'normal' photos coming soon!)

The seven deadly Flickr sins!

Ok, so let's get this right out there, straight away, yes this is taken on the lawn at Waitangi New Zealand, home of the controversial founding document of New Zealand. Yes I know the personal opinions of New Zealanders vary wildly about the Treaty of Waitangi, and yes I know it holds a great deal of friction for many people. I respect that, but this photo isn't about causing controversy, it's about a realisation.

For those of you reading who are not New Zealanders, the significance of this place may well be lost on you, so I shall attempt to summarise briefly. On the 6th February, 1840, on this lawn, at the exact spot where the ship's mast I am looking out on here stands, The Treaty of Waitangi was signed. I don't wish to try and make a definitive description of what it means, as the attempts to define it have been the cause of disagreements ever since. In essence it was a treaty signed between the Maori chiefs native to New Zealand and the British Empire, whereby a deal was struck in return for protection from the Crown. The translations of the treaty in Maori and English differed, and the differences have been the cause of much pain over the years.

I don't want to try and spark those arguments again with this photo. I have had it explained that although Maori have felt very short changed by what the British did to them, that the treaty was signed before the incoming French and Dutch took their own swipe at Aotearoa, and that maybe it wasn't that bad an idea after all, and I've had that explained to me in several different places by several different historians. Regardless, I still find being an English person here in New Zealand something I carry around with me with a certain sense of shame, not just for this slice of history, but it certainly plays a big part.

See for me, since arriving in New Zealand nearly four years ago now, I have for the first time felt at home. I often wondered whether those thoughts were tainted with rose tinted glasses, but my return to the UK last year for a while confirmed my feelings. For many reasons as a person I don't think I ever found myself in the UK, and being here now is like learning about myself from scratch. I'm certainly not proud I was born in England, often ashamed, and I certainly never cheered on the English rugby team during the recent World Cup here, but instead bought my first New Zealand All Blacks jersey.

I guess what I am saying in a round about way, is that at the grand age of 31, I feel very much like I'm finding myself. Like the first naive fumblings with self acceptance most people go through in their teens. And that's an odd feeling when you're doing that in a land you love so much but where being English carries old baggage.

Now, I'm no history buff. I get it, I see the importance, but it's not something I can get lost and carried away in. On my recent road trip/holiday thing with a few very close companions, we went to Paihia, gateway to The Bay of Islands in the Far North of New Zealand. It is, absolutely jaw droppingly pretty. I was quite content to roll around on the sand and take in the sea and an odd glass of wine while I was there, but thought seeing as we were only just down the road from Waitangi, being Kiwis, it would be kinda ignorant not to go and visit the Treaty Grounds. That's as much thought as I gave it. It was something a bit different to do for the afternoon.

And then I got to the front door. And man it looks dignified and elegant. You know you're being asked to show some respect just walking across the car park. We walked into the entrance, showed our New Zealand documents and got free entry. Despite being broke I paid more in donations than it would have cost to get in as a tourist and I didn't think twice.

I remember saying to myself under my breath "so, this is it!?"

I at this stage wasn't consciously thinking about things, just aware I was along for a ride somehow. We walked around the grounds, viewed the two Wakas, the Maori war canoes housed here used in the annual celebrations of Waitangi day. I became very aware of the fact I was walking across grounds that had carried the feet of every major New Zealand dignitary that has ever been. In my time honoured way of self preservation when I'm getting a little carried away with emotional stuff I went a little quiet and just tried to soak it in.

I sat for maybe an hour on this lawn and around it. I looked out over that bay where the tall ship would have been moored at the time the treaty was signed, and frankly it all kinda came home to me. I'd never given it a thought this place, but right here was where the country I love so much was born. In an odd way seeing the birthplace whilst contemplating a birth of my own personality since being here was a little spiritual. I have tried so hard to feel at home here, tried so hard to make no ripples, it's been so utterly important to me deep down inside me to belong to the place I call home now, that sharing a moment where the country as we know it was born was a deeply significant step in my own acceptance of myself as a New Zealander.

I cried. A lot.

The time hardened Kiwis reading this will mock. A) Because a real Kiwi man don't cry and that makes me a big fool. Sorry, that's bollocks. B) Because for almost all living Kiwis, Te Tiriti O Waitangi is a document that has held the country in some torn state of minor turmoil for their entire lives. I can respect that, but in an odd way I am free of it.

This country as it is right now is what I love, and right or wrong, it began here. That touches me deep inside.

I work in the building that looks after that document. I can see the real thing every day. I take pride in doing my bit to keep New Zealand's heritage available. When I told the staff at the Treaty Grounds where I worked, they gasped in amazement. Touchy subject or not, I realised I am in a position of great responsibility in New Zealand already.

Some time ago I helped lead a training session to a series of Pacific Island and Maori community groups. At that time my timidness and shame of where I come from in their context was strong even if subconscious. I never felt the ability to just say my thing and automatically have the right to be heard. I felt very humble to be given the chance (again) to help develop their knowledge. Their acceptance of me surprised me and really put a lump in my throat. The lady who led that training seminar took me aside at the time and told me to be proud of the person I am and am becoming. She gave me the confidence to believe that being that person was acceptable, whether English, Maori or New Zealand born and the acceptance by the delegates that day was proof.

I forget it so often in day to day life, but I think maybe allowing myself to believe I can be a New Zealander regardless of my origins, and allowing myself to build this new life here in this country and being comfortable with it is the most important thing I've ever done.

When this was taken, I was realising that, right there and then, and that's just huge.

A very special thanks to the photographer. This is a moment we shared no-one will ever take from either of us.

The seven deadly Flickr sins!

New Image 1 of 8.

You guys have seen Mia before. Some time ago, but you've seen her before. I see her really quite a lot these days... That makes me a very lucky boy.

This photo is a few months old now and comes from a simple experiment to figure out what the fuck makes Terry Richardson so god-damn important to the fashion world with his photos. Truth is I love many of his shots (even though I have a firm opinion the person he portrays is a massive cock), treading that line and divide between controlled and constructed photos with snapshots with no thought at all. You know they're more than snaps yet they don't look it. So I tried to figure it out, and ended up with this (and have gone on to use it in some recent shoots too). Splitting my Orbis arm in half to make a flash bracket and taking the thing off up the side there and faffing about with the mix between ambient light and flash...

Simple but god it works.

And so does Mia. Taking this kinda shot requires someone to really work the camera hard, and frankly not everyone can do that. Mia could make the ice at the South Pole melt and has no issues with letting the camera know it. Fuck I love this girl, I really do. I am so, so lucky to have her around me and in the things I do.

Mia - New experiments in fucking about with flashes.

The seven deadly Flickr sins!

New Image 2 of 8.

This is proof in the pudding that you should always have your camera with you. I normally do, but in this case I was lucky enough that it was the 5D with 35mm lens on it, so basically the best bit of kit I have. And God, I was glad of it... This light was sinking just at that point where dusk became night very very fast. In the time I spotted in on the highway to driving maybe 2ks round the corner, running out the car and down the beach it had almost gone. Truly magical, eerie light smothering Wellington in some kind of Alfred Hitchcock haze and an odd kind of cinematic glory.

Those of you who have been following my work for a while will know categorically that I do not like chocolate box typical landscapes. I like something more, yet something less. Something which to many won't appeal, bot to some washes you over with a sense of overwhelming balance in simplicity.

I'm not sure 100%, but I think I consider this my best landscape shot to date.