The Road Less Travelled
While I plead guilty to hankering after Venice, Iceland’s lava beaches, and even English bluebell woods, I am beginning to think that it is on roads less travelled that I will find truly original subjects for my work. The main image accompanying this piece was made on the River Findhorn near the Moray coast last month. This is not a corner of Scotland that has been as heavily photographed as Skye or Glencoe but I found the beauty of this small canyon entrancing. As you can see, that day the light bounced off the Findhorn’s granite walls while the river itself reflected the Spring skies overhead.
The digital revolution over the past 20 years has had a profound impact on the practice of photography at many levels. As a number of writers about photography have observed, one important effect is to have ‘democratised’ the medium so that it is no longer the preserve of people willing to tangle with the uncertainties of film, and the nervous anticipation of seeing how an envisaged image has manifested in the reality of chemical development. Sometimes the wait resulted in unexpectedly happy outcomes - even some wonderful accidents - but too often, eager anticipation was deflated by the reality of incorrect exposures, softness of focus, and a general feeling of disappointment that the image in the photographer’s mind’s eye, had not translated into the final negative or transparency.
Digitisation changed all this. Gradually, the increased certainties of improved automation and immediate feedback, have meant that confidence amongst photographers has grown enormously. This is no longer the realm of ‘dark arts’ but instead has become a much easier path to artistic creativity. This must be seen as a very positive development because it has made the creation of successful images relatively straightforward and has removed many of the barriers of cost and uncertainty that were inherent in the film era.
However, there is a parallel development that seems less welcome - and many of us are falling prey to it. Alongside the significant increase in people making images for pleasure, is the increased attraction of picturesque locations - and particularly those popularised through social media.
The now infamous destruction last year of the tree in Sycamore Gap on Hadrian’s Wall was notable, not only for the senselessness of the act itself, but because of the near universal condemnation it attracted on both social media and across the mainstream news. I think in part this was because this famous tree had become a ‘honeypot’ destination for many photographers seeking to make their personal image in this very well known spot.
We can all think of popular destinations that have acquired similar ‘honeypot status’, not just here in the UK but around the world. The Wanaka Tree in New Zealand and the slot canyons of Arizona and Utah are obvious examples. While the attraction of these beautiful places is obvious, it seems that it is making it harder to create images that are not mere emulations of previous work. It is also becoming more difficult to avoid crowds of other photographers in these most sought after landscape destinations which, for me at least, reduces the inherent pleasure of being in these remote and beautiful places. How many more images can there be of Durdle Door?
On the afternoon I arrived at this location on the River Findhorn, I therefore found a sense of satisfaction at having discovered a quieter corner of northern Scotland that I could enjoy, not only for the potential images that were all around, but also because I had never seen a picture made in this place before - no preconceptions, no worries about imitation - just the simple enjoyment of being there. This suggests to me that I must work harder in the future to identify less obvious locations for my work, and not merely follow the crowd.