Day 221: down by the river

This afternoon was just one of the moments that I am truly captivated by where I live. Before I left the house to stroll into town to pick up some essential bits, I check out of my window and spot the ominous looking rain clouds so made sure I had an umbrella about my person. Being borne of a place where light precipitation seems the norm, I'm never short of an umbrella.

All too soon the shops start shutting their doors and it's time to head home. I figured I'd walk by the river rather than down the main street and was rewarded with all this. Rain clouds vanquished and I'm sat down by the river looking up at the bluest of cornflower skies just watching the world drift by.

The riverside is dotted with others delighted by this end of the weekend bonus. There's a busker performing rather well whilst the ducks, Canada geese and swans are excited that several residents have brought bread. There are rowers manoeuvring their craft from their moorings and then swiftly rowing under Richmond Bridge. There are several people licking ice creams, others swigging from bottles procured from any of the many surrounding bars, and a man in front of me has removed his shirt and is deeply engrossed in his book. There's a small van vending frozen drinks, a couple of guys drumming up trade for a boat trip to Windsor, and a balloon seller wearing ugly too-tight leggings being mostly ignored by everyone.

Yes, this isn't bad, not bad at all. I am lucky to live here!

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Day 200: a Sunday sunset

I was supposed to be heading to HM and L’s place in Chiswick to celebrating L moving in, but I had to admit yesterday was a fun but utterly exhausting day. Couple with, as usual; I had a very late Friday night (aka early Saturday morning) in the office. So I had enforced laziness for most of today, and then I just could tell the sunset was going to be something worth checking out. I could see the pink tendrils all around the sky as I walked onto Richmond Bridge and found a good spot to shoot. I was not the only one determined to get a decent Richmond sunset, there were a dozen snapping with smartphones (a few selfies), two with the full tripod action and one brandishing his Lee ND graduated filters. I had to go a little more freeform and handheld but still wanted to wait for a bit of extra action to complete my shot. Luckily there was one man using a motor boat to relocate some rowing boats and a final rowing straggler conveniently heading towards the sunset. Score!

As I left, ringing for an Uber cab, I could see more beautiful scenes playing out in the sky, but it was already embarrassingly late to go to a house party on a school night…so camera dutifully shackled!

 

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Day 172: without a paddle

I meandered down by the river again; it was not a beautiful summer day, more bland, vanilla, meh! I spotted the rowing boats, looking a little shabby, close to some steps but the lack of colour wasn’t doing it for me. Time to ditch the colours entirely and break out the dynamic monochrome instead methinks.

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Day 164: view up to Richmond Hill

It's such a long time since I've hung out this side of the river in Richmond. The other side has a vegetarian café, a floating restaurant, Argentinian steaks, crowded bars, swans hoping for bread crusts, boat building under one of the arches, and the grassy slopes of the riverside development. It's fair to say there's more to see and do. But I've meandered through the park around Marble Hill House and drifted down by the river. I'm not the only one walking along the path, there are a handful of cyclists, a couple of fishermen and plenty of dog walkers. On the river there are rowers, larger boats, ducks and some rather noisy seagulls. I think I'm the only one with a camera though.

I am enjoying checking out the vignettes formed by the overhanging tree branches and the abundant reeds. A famous view is up towards Richmond Hill. The larger building is (or perhaps was) the iconic grade II listed Royal Star and Garter Home for the recuperation of servicemen. I've learnt it been sold off for redevelopment and will reopen as 86 flats with most enviable views. Slightly further down the hill is the Petersham Hotel. I've heard they are known for their enthusiastic winter snow scenes, I really must check out their afternoon tea next winter and see it for myself.

 

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Day 144: quote of the day

We're stood in Richmond Athletic Ground watching the rugby players vying for the City Sevens trophies. One of the many, many aeroplanes on their familiar flight path roars over our heads and Y asks with beguiling innocence, "is there an airport near here?"

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Day 136: alley diving

There is a little passageway that leads you to the side entrance of Waitrose. I have walked down there countless times and have found it to be a rich resource for flora and flower photography. One of the reasons for it being a top spot is the vibrant variety of blossom and flowers that hang conveniently in easy reach of a close-up filtered camera lens. Secondly the stone walls elevate lots of smaller flowers into a more optimum position without having to get down on the floor, which would undoubtedly be most annoying for others nipping down this small alley.

After replenishing the fridge and cupboards from Waitrose, I head down there to sate my photography appetite and also, to get a bus back home. Today the daisies surrounded by smaller purple flowers catch my close-up filtered eye. I am fond of daisies; they have a ubiquitous quality couple with an elegant purity.

 

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Day 126: channelling Mapplethorpe at Kew

It's the second day of the Heather Angel macro flower workshop at Kew Gardens and after a wet and windy night we're back in our classroom. The lovely old wooden sash windows are struggling against the ferocious gusts, we're going to be challenged today keeping everything pin sharp. We learn about focus stacking and how it can really elevate your macro photography. If I can procure one of the focus slider tripod thingies for a bargain price, I'd be tempted to give it a go.

Before taking our own photographs we start off looking at more inspirational images, and there was an old favourite of mine. I've always been a fan of Robert Mapplethorpe's photography since first becoming aware of his work over twenty years ago. I'd come across a giant black & white print of a calla lily promoting one of Robert Mapplethorpe's shows, I think in a gallery or museum shop. I had the purple text cut off and then professionally framed and hung above my bed. After that I stumbled across a small calendar on another museum visit and again framed a couple of smaller black & white flower images of his. And in my ignorance, I thought that this entirely represented Mapplethorpe's photography.

In November 1996 I learnt that the Hayward Gallery was doing an exhibition of Robert Mapplethorpe's work and secured myself a ticket for an evening show after work, as I was handily contracting at IBM on the Southbank. I remember feeling awfully prissy in a less than sombre work suit queuing outside whereas my fellow art lovers seemed all aggressive in bondage trousers and studded leather. "Not the crowd I'd expect to like black & white photographs of lilies" I thought. And they probably thought of me, "she doesn't look like a big fan of explicit hard-core gay porn". Well, I realised quickly that it was indeed eye opening, and I'd been ignorant of this particular oeuvre until now! Subsequently I discovered that I was at a terribly controversial art exhibition with rare viewings of pieces that had been banned elsewhere. And not so many flowers I hasten to add! I could still admire his style, the clean, uncluttered monochromatic graphic images. It was definitely an education! Back then you couldn't just Google an artist and be enlightened. Firstly it was a couple of years before the birth of Google, and secondly I certainly didn't have access to a computer on the world wide web. Our computers at work had been used for word processing, spreadsheets and databases, and had access to internal email only. When I went for an interview shortly after I'd had to decamp to a library to use their single computer to have a hope of doing the necessary research for my required presentation.

I'd seen an article in the Observer magazine about the Antony Gormley Field for the British Isles (thank goodness for Google now) a while back. And courtesy of a poster discovered the show happened to be at the Hayward Gallery at the same time as Mapplethorpe, so I went off in search. In fact the sea of terracotta Gorms staring blankly up at me arranged in a way that you couldn't see the extremities of the room, was profound. Maybe the simplicity, the strange dumb trust was some sort of antidote to the mind-blowing images I'd seen next door. I remember crouching down next to them and feeling very tranquil.

 

 

 

Fast forward to present day. As well as Mapplethorpe we examined other flower artists to inspire us, Heather showed us some images from Flora Photographica, and as it was one of the reading list books I'd already stocked up on, I was delighted. She explained her paraphernalia for studio flower photography. We had pop up light cubes, a variety of backdrops, diffusers, clamps, bellows, reflectors and a jar full of flower specimens, Heather picked before we arrived. There was a mass erecting of tripods and I was very keen to get my hands on the white bells and wanted to try them against various backdrops. I was trying to channel Mapplethorpe but couldn't quite get the background to be as black as I liked. Heather showed me that I should opt for manual and a tiny aperture, rather than my customary 1.7 and get everything in focus plus blackening the backdrop. That was exactly the look I was trying to achieve. I then recreated the idea with the pink spray of flowers. it was also interesting to see the effect of a wide-open lens had on the white backdrops. My preference is for the black, but the paler has merit too.

 

After the studio, everyone was itching to get out in Kew again. I was keen to revisit some of the previous day's images and see if I could improve on sharpness. And as I'd had the foresight to bring my new rose covered high-heeled wellingtons, it seemed wrong not to break them out. I headed for the peonies and was shocked to see that overnight they'd been so battered by the winds, they were almost flat and the delicate papery petals were crushed and absent. These sad snaggle-toothed flowers were so depressing and a few others I'd intended a second go at were far from pristine too. I returned to the alpine house and was intrigued the effect of a smaller aperture on some of the blooms. The first purple one is taken on the initial visit and the second throwing more into focus a day later. I'm not sure as to my preference in this case.

I had planned joining the others in the waterlily house but was warned that my camera would most likely fog up and so thought I'd stay away being mindful of time (I'm not sure how long my little Leica would take to recoverm but knowing how easily it gets drowned I wouldn't risk it). Instead I thought I'd explore ferns, as they hadn't been so ravaged and see if I could end up with a single tulip specimen.

 

For those who didn't have to rush off we presented some of our images. I preferred the ones that had been taken on the workshop as it's always fascinating seeing other interpretation of similar photographic opportunities. I was the only one who'd been able to present any of the studio shots from today as I post-processed one over lunch (though I was thankful it needed very little)

Before I left I couldn't resist purchasing a couple more of Heather's books. I'm so hoping I get the opportunity to explore another one of her workshops. If I can fathom the Kew workshop booking system (extremely frustrating) I intend to keep an eye out for more. At least I have a Robert Canis wildflower workshop signed up for in July, and he gets to do the travelling this time!

 

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Day 125: a feast of flowers at Kew

It's so wonderful to have a photography workshop on my doorstep rather than having to negotiate tubes and trains and taxis. Kew is two bus rides away, not really onerous at all. I'm ashamed that despite being a Friend of Kew, I haven't been inside these gates apart from a drowning at the fabulous showing of the Rocky Horror Picture Show courtesy of l(A)'s fabulous though slightly sodden birthday present. I really need to address that.

I read about Heather Angel and her inspirational flower photography a couple of years ago, round about the time I also learnt of one of her favourite gadgets, the Plamp. I was so delighted when investigating Robert Canis' first Kew workshops, that this two workshop was bring advertised too. I just couldn't resist.

I start off by trying to work out how to join my fellow workshop attendees, as I seemed to be in a museum, and can't initially find how to get to the classrooms above. When I do I meet everyone, we discuss our objectives of the workshop. My aim is for pretty simple, take my flower photography to the next level, learn new techniques and indulge in two days of non-stop photography. Then we sit back and watch an inspirational presentation from Heather. She's been all over the world and knows so much about the flora she's photographed too. We experience a heady mix of her fabulous flower photographs taken in situ, and then specimens photographed in a studio.

 

 

We are itching to get out and put some of our new knowledge into practice but it's clear the wind is whipping up a frenzy. Despite deployment of the Plamps, we're going to have a tricky time. We start off with trying to capture some seed heads hanging from trees that just won't stay still. Then we venture towards the alpine beds which are a vibrant sea of cerise and sunshine yellow peonies (well, I think they are), the bees are out in force but the petals are permanently shivering in the breezy day.

 

Some of the tiny flowers are harbouring passengers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

We try and escape the windiness by heading towards the relative shelter of the Alpine House. Here I break out my new Pocket Wizards and try a bit of off-camera fill-in flash. My favourite is (not surprisingly with my well documented poppy addiction) the Alpine Poppy, I love how the background is almost blown out but you can see the dark interior surrounded by the shimmering, shivering crimson petals. The height of the flowers helps us deploy our tripods and get some inspiring images. There's so much choice choice here but I'm intrigued how I'm more drawn to the white flowers, the reds, the pinks and the occasional technicolour. We still can't escape the gusts though, the doors are open in the alpine glass house but next we venture into the palm house where the double doors keep the winds out and the temperate climate has us quickly disrobing.

 

 

 

We have so much material to work with here. I'm rather taken by the carnivorous plants, not just because it's not so humid as the main house, but it certainly helps. The wispy plants armed with tiny drops of glue to capture passing insects and too inquisitive camera lens too I can vouch for, are a fascination for me.

 

Just before we head back to our classroom one of the iguanas poses for us on one of the walkways.

 

 

I've taken over 300 photographs today, I'm sure a whole bunch can be eliminated because of blurring, but hopefully it there's still a plethora of close-up flower pictures I can be proud of. I foresee plenty of peering at photos and some post-processing too tonight. And there's a whole other day tomorrow, I cannot wait.

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