Colourful Mysteries of the Mind

The mind moves in mysterious ways, not least when it comes to colour and tone.

As a photographer and printmaker, I’m always mindful of the environment in which I assess  imagery to ensure I’m making correct judgements.

If you haven’t considered how radically different colours can look when placed in different scenarios, it maybe worth you delving a little deeper into this interesting journey…

One of my favourite sites on the subject is Purves Lab — take a look at the see for yourself section and prepare to be amazed at the twists and turns of human colour perception!

The two circles appear to be different colours — are they really…?

My Own Perfect Landscape

I’ve been looking forward to writing about Cambois (pronounced Kammus) for a long time now — in particular, introducing you to the photograph featured in this post.

A small Northumbrian coastal village born from the mining industry in 1862, Cambois is a wild, bizarre location.

Like many before me, I initially journeyed there to see the wind turbines mounted on the breakwater, as well as those planted out to sea.

The turbines were impressive enough and made lovely photographs but you’ve seen one turbine and you’ve seen them all, right?

On turning round to drive back home, I was overwhelmed by the scene that unravelled before me as I saw the same location but, this time, from the other direction.

Cambois (pronounced ‘Kammus’)

Stepping out from the car, my memory tells me that I was rubbing my eyes in disbelief but, in all honesty, that probably didn’t happen.

The scene looked splendid but wasn’t quite right for the kind of photograph I would like to make.  Some secret sauce was required.

The necessary approach was obvious to me, a neat tip to all landscape photographers that has made the difference to so many of my landscapes…

What is that secret sauce?  A step-ladder!

In this instance, those extra few feet gave me the elevation required to distinguish the elements of this landscape that, as a fan of infrastructure, holds everything for me — community, industry, power, road, rail, sea and air.

So many fundamental facets of modern living all featuring in one photograph, my own perfect landscape.

An Historic Document

To me, this photograph now has an added dimension, as the scene cannot be captured in the same way again.

A few years ago, on a frosty December morning, I drove back to the area to witness and photograph the demolition of Blyth Power Station’s four famous chimneys.

It was a moving, spectacular event and one that made my photograph of Cambois a particularly special and unique record of the area; a true moment in time.

The demolition of Blyth Power Station’s chimneys, the backdrop to my photograph.

The Print

Shot on 5×4 negative film, I still enjoy poring over the details of Cambois…

A hole in a roof with Blyth Power Station looming in the background…

The tracks wind their way to the aluminium smelter further along the coast…

To the left, a lone figure stands in the distance on the jetty (a detail I only noticed after scanning the film)…

The heavy plates bolting the tracks to their respective sleepers…

Printed signed, numbered and embossed by me, this release measures 12×8″ on 20×16″ paper.

Visit my Northumberland Print Collection to buy this print directly from this site (despite appearances, a PayPal account is not required to complete transactions).

Recently remastered for availability on this site, I was delighted that print No.1 sold within moments.

Signed, numbered and embossed print of Cambois by Jack Lowe

A Final Aside…

Paul Kenny spotted this postcard of the Cambois miners’ banner for me, which I now often show beside my print as a nod to the heritage of this small mining community…

The Magic of Pinhole Photography

Yesterday, on a rainy afternoon, I finally got together with some of the children at my younger son’s school to make pinhole photographs.

Pinhole photography must be just about the simplest way to make a photograph — all that’s required is a light-tight box with a pinhole through one of the sides and, of course, some photographic paper or film inside to record the image.

It’s amazing how tricky it can be to describe analogue methods from a bygone era to the youth of the modern whizz-bang digital age.

The best way of course is just to get on and do it.  To see the children wowed by the process once the first image magically appeared in the developing tray was so satisfying.

It’s no mean feat to ask children to stand still for two whole minutes!

In discussion with the children, I asked them what they considered to be great inventions of our time.

The first answers came flying in — the iPhone, the iPod, the Xbox…

OK, but let’s think about the wheel, the bicycle, the internal combustion engine, the aeroplane, the motor car, domestic power, the internet…

All these things seem so normal and unsurprising to us now that most just slip under the conscious radar.

I encouraged the children to rewind the clock, to the 10th Century as it transpires, to people noticing images projected through cracks in baskets or the dappled light of trees.

At the time, this must surely have been an incredible realisation.  Move forward to the 1800s and just as incredible would be the notion that an image could then be captured and fixed forever onto a piece of paper or film!

The pennies started dropping around the room, especially on seeing that first print appear under the safelight of the darkroom we cobbled together in a cleaning cupboard.

Three minute silhouettes…

The Solar Eclipse of 1999

As I was scanning these prints, it reminded me of a pinhole photograph I made of the 1999 solar eclipse.

Two memories stick in my mind from that day…

The first was the sudden cooling of the air as the sun slipped behind the moon.

The second memory is much more striking — seeing the bitten shape of the eclipsed sun projected onto a brick wall through the leaves of nearby trees.

The gaps in the leaves had acted as pinholes too and I was immediately transported to understanding how incredible it must have been, all those hundreds of years ago, to realise this phenomenon of physics and the natural world.

My pinhole photograph of the 1999 solar eclipse

Photographic Tweets

There’s no denying that I’ve loved creating this site over the summer and, as a result, seeing the renewed enthusiasm for my work gain rapid momentum.

I’m over-the-moon that Julian Calverley was the first to purchase a print (No.1 of Bardsey Island) — a compliment of the highest order!

If you aren’t already familiar with Julian’s photography, it really is worth spending a few moments on his newly updated site and you’ll soon see what I mean…

Thrilled that my beautiful @MrJackLowe Bardsey Island print has arrived.. http://t.co/HU8ymtPn

— Julian Calverley (@juliancalverley) September 18, 2012

 

The Only Way to Play Guitar

A little weekend inspiration for you…

This fine clip, sure to warm the heart, came into my life through James Danziger’s blog: