Who said you have to suffer for your art?
No more backpack-laden uphill hikes pre-sunrise for me. I’ve had it up to here with standing around in loch-side mud getting chewed by midges. It has finally dawned on me that I’m no longer interested in putting up with endless hours in the rain and howling winds without sleep, food, relaxation or wine in the name of landscape photography. Same goes for the effort involved in trying to keep up with the exaggerated strides of blokes 2 metres tall, each with 3 cameras, 10 lenses and 2 tripods in their backpacks, as on The day I landed on Mars.
Landscape photography tours and workshops can be wonderfully inspiring thanks to the places you visit and the input and feedback provided by the workshop leader. The people you meet and exchange information, views and ideas with can also make all the difference. But do we need to experience extremes or push ourselves to physical limits in order to create interesting images?
These were my thoughts when I came across an “impressionist photography” workshop in Giverny arranged in summer 2019 by photography workshop leader Cheryl Hamer. It sounded just what I wanted: a peaceful rural location, a small group, no early morning rises, no long hikes to extreme locations in wild climatic conditions. Just an unexplored photographic technique for me to learn about and practise (multiple exposures with an impressionist effect). Plus I love French food, wine, the sounds of the French language, and Monet’s water lily paintings.
In the stunning setting of Monet’s garden at Giverny, Cheryl’s clear input and supportive feedback, both of which came in just the right doses at the right time, provided plenty of opportunities for creating images in Monet’s garden. The fact that this particular group turned out to be made up of lovely, friendly people with a sense of humour who also appreciated pain-free photography in a relaxing environment was an unexpected bonus.
Not that I’ll be giving away my midge net, wellies or rainproofs yet though: Northern Ireland is my next stop.
I had to go and get some keys cut up at Anniesland, but the hint of rain had made the air so fresh that I took the waterproofs and set off for a four-hour walk through Glasgow’s West End.
And sure enough, by the time I’d come out of the hardware shop, the drizzle was on. I braved it for a few minutes but finally stopped to take shelter under some trees and don the waterproofs. It occurred to me that I’d passed this pond so often along Great Western Road, but had never taken a closer look.
On my way back were the colourful scenes at the front of tenement blocks.
No walk though the West End is complete without a stopover at Hargan’s Dairy. Re-exposed to the elements for almost a decade now, the 1960s lettering is peeling fast.