The locations featured in my galleries are not only examples of widely varying climates and topography, but also demonstrate different working methods. The largest body of work is from the Elan Valley in Powys, Wales. This network of reservoirs and hills supplies water to a large part of the West Midlands and is attractive not only for its flora and fauna, but also for the Victorian architecture of the dams. Being located almost an hour away from my nearest base, working there necessitates planning and a mixture of experience and guesswork in choosing appropriate times. The weather in the mid Welsh hills tends to be cloudier and damper than in flatter parts of the country, and so often I head out before dawn under clear skies and arrive to find fog, low cloud and even rain obscuring the rising sun. However I have come to appreciate what these conditions offer the photographer and am always open to the subtle beauty of the characteristic cool weather conditions. The winding roads and rocky shores of the Elan Valley are often places of great tranquillity at sunrise, with the steep wooded hills muffling all but the sounds of calling ravens and distant woodpeckers. Having spent so much time in the different parts of the valley, I usually know which places will be best to visit first in the crucial hour around sunrise. If the mist, dawn colour and still water are to be captured, being prepared in the right spot and on time is vital. Then as the mist evaporates and the breeze begins to disturb the reflections I am free to head to other parts and wait for the light to illuminate them.
Only by returning to the same places in different conditions and at different times of year can one hope to show them at their best, but for every one view that one attempts, there will be numerous others that happen to present themselves each time, products of that day’s weather and the season. The difficulty on the best days is choosing between all the conflicting things to photograph.
Like many landscape photographers I often choose to make images of very small areas, excluding the sky and indications of scale. This is not a last-resort technique to salvage images on cloudy days, nor is it an attempt at abstraction but it is a reaction to the small-scale aesthetics of wild places. In the Elan Valley many exposed rock faces are delicately coloured with patches of lichen, moss and mineral deposits and while sometimes tufts of heather add a little depth and variety to these miniature scenes, in many cases a small area of rock is enough on its own. The outcrop of contorted strata upstream in the Elan River is one of my most-used features, and as the algae and moss change colour over the year, there is almost always a new incarnation of "Elan Strata" to be made.
My favourite wider images of the Elan Valley are of winter mornings where every twig is coated in thick hoar frost and the early sunlight softened by swirling fog. Many of the snowy images in the gallery are from one particularly cold March morning in 2006 when for once my Canadian arctic-grade parka was comfortable rather than excessively warm.
Another memorable time was the aurora borealis of 2005 when I made the trip from London specially. I arrived in the hills overlooking the valley just before midnight and got out of the car to see not only intense deep red and green rays hanging in the northern sky, but a solitary police car that had followed me up the deserted road. Once their suspicion was dispelled, I was glad to show them what they would otherwise have missed before attempting the difficult task of recording it on film.
NORWAY
In contrast to my practiced working methods in Wales, the Norway landscapes were made in a very different way. All from a three-week trip in May 2007, the images were an exercise in representing and conveying the qualities of an unknown land in whatever condition it happened to be at the time. Instead of waiting for days in the same place for a particular quality of light to occur, I chose to assess the landscape as it appeared in front of me and decide which aspects would work best and would convey something of the overall aesthetics of the place.
Most of the locations would undoubtedly have looked more spectacular on other days than the one I was there, so I tried to make the most of the subtle aspects.
On many occasions I went out late in the evening and worked into the night as the twilight glow of the north provided permanent illumination.
Just as in Britain, I believe the most characteristic conditions can bring out the best in the landscape, even if they are not the warmest or most comfortable. I would love to return to the epic Sognefjell pass on a clear day, but I am happy to have seen it first in the mists and rain of spring.
BROCKWELL PARK
My third working method can be seen in the Brockwell Park galleries. Many days pass with fine weather and good light, but living so near I can pick the very best times to go out. I can also wander calmly, deciding when the leaves, flowers or buildings are likely to look particularly good and construct theoretical compositions. There may be no lure of the wilderness, but this is no impediment to producing good work. Sometimes snow or fog is available to simplify the views and add a new touch to familiar sights, but at other times one must work hard to find elusive viewpoints that present the landmarks in good relative proportions.
PRINTS
All of the images in my landscape galleries are available as mounted or framed prints in a variety of sizes. The film images (mostly square) are either printed as Cibachromes, a traditional process which results in prints with an impression of great depth when viewed in directional light, or digitally on paper with a similar appearance, giving more fine control.
If you wish to purchase a print, please send me an email indicating your choice of images and sizes - I am always happy to discuss the many options available at length.