Click!

What is the point of having slogged my way through a copy of Hogarth’s ‘Line of Beauty’ if the end result of the reading of this treatise on art is that I still cannot compose good photographs? Why is it that if Toni and I stand in the same position pointing our camera towards the same object at the same time with the same weather conditions, his photos always look better?

I traipse from world famous art gallery to National gallery emoting like fury in front of some of the most revered artistic endeavours that mankind has laboured to produce and still my photos look as though I had vaguely noticed a point of interest and had thrown the camera in its general direction hoping that serendipity would depress the button at the opportune time and take some sort of interesting image.

I suppose that it is a common conceit to believe that merely reading about something and passively regarding it will result in the triggering of some type of innate ability and, hey presto! You’re an expert!

In education you have a prime example of this: as everyone has been through the educational mill they assume that as clients (i.e. pupils from a previous generation) they have a perfect understanding of the modern demands of teaching and that they must share their incontrovertible understanding with the professionals whenever they meet. One could, of course, extend the examples to include doctors and patients; solicitors and paying victims; politicians and voters, not forgetting dogs and their owners.

We shouldn’t go overboard [captains and their passengers] about this; parents [adults and children] and everybody else should be concerned about education and take a view – the more passionate involvement the better, but do remember the professional point of view. The point of view of those practioners who actually are doing what others only talk about: they have a right to be respected. Teachers like doctors and lawyers do have access to a body of professional knowledge they have been tested on both theoretical and practical aspects of their work; they have earned the expectation of consideration in their professional lives.

I’m aware that I’m on thin ice here because the comparisons with doctors and lawyers and painters and architects get somewhat attenuated to the disadvantage of teachers. But, I will press on regardless.

Having your photograph taken and being given the result to look at doesn’t make you a photographer; yet, noticing how a good photographer goes about selecting a setting and a pose, how he adjusts the lighting and focus can lead to an increase in knowledge by the subject; while looking at great photographs and seeing (if only though visual repetition) how the framing of a successful photo works must have some sort of effect. So the observation of the whole professional experience of photos can lead to better efforts by the amateur. Should lead to better efforts. So why isn’t it working with me.

This morning was crisp and bright. As Toni was working overtime I had extra time to contemplate the wonders of nature without the intrusive presence of the rest of the population who were, god rot them, mostly still in bed. I made a decision. Without going more than two minutes away from my house I was going to take a series of photographs over the course of a week which would show that I was capable of producing visual images which reflected some sort of artistic appreciation of my immediate surroundings. With light frost covering a swathe of grass opposite the house and the ivy clad oaks standing stark and gaunt, how could I fail to find a subject suitable?

I have recently bought a new camera on the specious grounds that the screen on the back of my present camera is far too small. The camera I now have is a 10 million megapixel job with a screen which virtually covers the back of the machine. It also has a multitude of ‘helpful’ settings to ensure that the rankest amateur is able to take photographs of acceptable and obviously effortless interest.

So, the challenge is set. The camera is primed (well charged up) and the epic journeyings of not more than two minutes from the house have begun. The fact that the evidence of my efforts will be plain for all my reader to see is a sort of incentive for me to rise above the mediocrity that has characterised my previous efforts and produce something which will . . .

And it was at that point that my enthusiasm left me. The work, as they say, will have to speak for itself. You’ve seen it: does it speak? More tomorrow.

Cartier Bresson eat your heart out!