Photographing with a Bicycle

The bicycle and photography were products of the same era and have many synergies. A few years ago, being interviewed by an amateur photographic magazine, I was surprised by the question “What is your favourite photo accessory?” but needed no time to think. Number one was my Brompton, with a good pair of comfortable walking shoes coming a close second. I can’t remember if either response made it to print, certainly they were not the kind of answers the reporter was looking for.

At the end of the nineteenth century, both bicycle and camera (thanks to the recently introduced dry plates and Mr Eastman’s Kodak film, and the introduction of the new ‘safety’ bicycle as an alternative to the ‘penny-farthing’) were popular crazes for the young and wealthy middle-class city-dwellers. In New York, as Alfred Steiglitz struggled to get his photographic crusade into top gear through the New York Camera Club, he took a tumble as its members put forward a motion to transform it into a bicycle club. (The motion was narrowly lost, but he took the hint.)

Both photography and cycling were relatively new and exciting and in keeping with the spirit of the times, offering new freedoms and an increasing ability to investigate a wider world. Some thirty years later, industrial workers, benefitting from shorter working hours, also took to their bikes and cycled out into the surrounding countryside, some of them with cameras. Bert Hardy was one, and began his career photographing cycle races. And many years later still, in my first conscious photographic project, I too got on my bicycle and cycled out to photograph a grove of ancient oaks.

Forty-five years later, the bicycle is still my favourite photographic transport, though I favour a folding model that can easily be taken on trains or even buses for longer distances. Unlike a car, you can stop and jump off when and where you like, and carry it up steps, over footbridges and ride or push it along footpaths.

Chafford Hundred (C) 2007, Peter Marshall
Chafford Hundred. 1/250 f8 70mm ISO 200 Nikon/Brompton!

This picture was taken in Essex, one of many last Thursday made possible by Brompton. The bike got me there and many other places, and it also, by standing on the crossbar, gave me the height necessary to shoot over the fence which stopped me falling to my death over the edge of a cliff. Its a part of a long-term study of the Thames Gateway area, one of the largest developments anywhere.

I’ve always envied the tall guys who can see (and photograph) over walls. Although taking thought can add nothing to my stature, taking the Brompton gives me an extra 20 inches or so (or, more precariously, with one foot on handlebars and the other on the saddle a full three feet.) Think of it as a stepladder with wheels.

Peter Marshall

The 3 ‘P’s

Let me introduce you to the 3 ‘P’s. They are what I feel makes any artistic project worthwhile, whether curating a photography show, making a body of work (including My London Dairy) or indeed, writing a column such as >Re:PHOTO.

Firstly and paramount, is that it should be personal. Something you feel strongly about, rather than perhaps something produced simply to meet a market or curry favour with a patron. Although of course many great works have also done those things.

Passion (C) 1997, Peter Marshall
Passion: Paris 1988 ©Peter Marshall 1988

Related, but not the same, is that it has to reflect a passion.

The final P, also related, is for point of view. It has to be there and it has to be non-trivial.

The 3 ‘P’s is of course a preciously contrived device to catch the attention. Earlier this year I wrote a rather more serious piece on the 3 ‘I’s of photojournalism (which, if memory serves, were integrity, inteligence and intention) and doubtless at some future date you will be treated to the 3 ‘W’s of Landscape photography. But the ‘P’s did reflect some of my thoughts on the current Tate Britain show.

In ‘How We Are: Photographing Britain’ curators Val Williams and Susan Bright certainly started off firing on all three ‘P’s but at some point appear to have been stymied. The Tate, perhaps wanting a rather different show, apparently brought in a review by the photographic great, good and celebs who covered the green with a great deal of balls, many of which had to be taken on board. “You can’t have a show without Bill Brandt” said some, fairly sensibly, but there were other rather wackier suggestions that also made the walls.

Quite a few reviews of the show have already appeared, of widely varying competence, though mostly favourable, although some writers do appear to have the mistaken impression that the show is come kind of history of photography in Britain. If you are reading this, you, like me, will probably have read all or most of them, and I’ve decided not to write at great length directly about the show.

Probably the best of those I’ve seen published was online at the Telegraph (may require free registration), by Richard Dorment, who puts the show exactly in its institutional context and then goes on to say: “this is not primarily a show about photography as an art form, or even about the history of British photography.”

Rather, as he goes on to say, it uses photographs to illustrate a social history by making use of them – and using them largely in contexts and ways that were not those of their authors. Reading the small booklet that accompanies the show you are certainly made aware of one aspect of this recontextualisation, when in the short section dealing with the period 1840-1900 they state “As the century progressed, women photographers were among the most skilled professionals in the UK” and in the following section, Into the Twentieth Century, “Women also continued to be a major force: making portraits, documentary photography and – as the Suffragette movement gathered pace – propaganda.” Personally I found material on the suffragettes (including images not taken by women) one of the more interesting aspects of the show, although perhaps evidence for the rest of these statements remains at best flimsy. But that women acheived as much as they did despite the social attitudes prevailing at the time is certainly worthy of celebration.

Dorment, like me, obviously found the show full of fascinations and he mentions some of them (I didn’t particularly share his enthusiasm fof the work of George Garland.) If you’ve not read this review (and who reads the Telegraph arts pages?) then do.

What I do intend to do, over the next week or two, is to make some posts on some of those missing from the Tate show, without whom any history of British photography is gapingly incomplete. ‘Missing Persons’ will hopefully do a little to fill that chasm.

Peter Marshall

Sorry Caron

Tonight I missed the opening in ‘the underpass’ near Edgware Road tube station, despite a personal invitation from Caron Geary, who I met in the pub after the private view of ‘How We Are’ at Tate Britain.

In the pub, Pimlico (C) 2007, Peter Marshall

Caron (on the right in the picture) is a fast up and coming photographer, and one to watch. I first came across her name at the time of the graduate shows last year, and you can see some stuff on the Saatchi site. She’s even in the Daily Telegraph, though somewhat curiously for the Independent Photographers Award. (A gallery in Sussex, not the paper.) Clicking there on the previous button brings you to a picture by Richard Chivers, whose large landscapes impressed me at last year’s Free Range graduate show.

The Leica M8 did a reasonable job considering the terribly mixed up (but dim, dim…) lighting colour in the pub (that’s a pink or purple light on her shoulder), even without the IR cut filter which I keep meaning to get. Without it, Leica’s auto white balance is nothing like as good as Nikon’s, and I’m told the filter doesn’t help greatly. Of course, shooting raw this isn’t a great problem. The 35mm Summilux makes a pretty decent standard lens, and shooting wide open isn’t at all bad. More on the Leica later, also more on ‘How We Are: Photographing Britain’, after which I needed a drink.

I do suggest you go. Just repeat the mantra “this is not a history of photography in Britain” over and over as you walk round and enjoy what is on display for what it is.

Peter Marshall

May Merry

It was hard to believe I’d got there on a Travel Card. London, Zone 6. From the station I walked through the woods to the village green opposite the Blue Ball pub and into a different world. The May Pageant was headed by ponies with riders in fancy dress, followed by the May Queen in a very smart horse-drawn carriage and the church choir sitting in a trailer on hay bales pulled by Billy O’Hallorans tractor. The new May Queen and her entourage followed in Young’s Brewery horse-drawn dray, followed by brownies, beavers, schools, residents associations and more, including the Santa Fe Stagecoach and the Harley Davidson Club, and ending with the Surrey Police.

Walton-on-the-Hill May Pageant (C)2007, Peter Marshall

By the end of the afternoon things were getting edgy and the choirboys had a shootout. You can read more about the May Pageant on My London Diary

Peter Marshall

Wrenovated

Linda was on a sponsored walk for Christian Aid around City of London churches on Sunday, most of which told the same story. Burnt in the great fire, rebuilt by Wren, bombed by the Luftwaffe and rebuilt more or less as Wren had intended. Only one church had instead been rebuilt in a modern style, and the results were not encouraging. I’ve long felt we should have planning laws that insisted that old buildings should only be replaced if the architects can convince a suitably qualified panel of planners that the new building is in every way better, but Wren would certainly be a hard act to follow.

I went along to keep her company and took the Nikon. Here are two pictures of a favourite corner of London, taken within a few seconds of each other. This one used my 12-24mm at its widest setting:

It’s ok, but somehow didn’t get the feeling of an enclosed garden that I wanted. So out came my favourite lens, the 10.5 fisheye, and well, you know what that does. To the rescue came Image Trends Inc, and the Hemi-Fisheye filter I reviewed not long ago. I think it does the job better.

City Garden (C) 2007, Peter Marshall

Peter Marshall

Peter On Photography

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