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Wednesday

May152013

Bill Gearon RIP

Looking out over the glacier towards a new beginning, Greenland

My dear Uncle Bill died on Monday afternoon in Bendigo, Australia. He was 97 years of age.

I received the news from my mum during a break in a photography class I was running that night. Being a bloke I was able to put it aside and go back to work. But in the early hours of the following morning, during the hour of the wolf, the memories started coming in thick and fast.

He was a lovely man, a straight shooter and as solid as a rock. A family man and a pillar of the community Uncle Bill gave a significant part of his life to serving the poor. Sadly missed, but remembered with joy and admiration.

Of my mother's 4 siblings, all boys, he was the last of her remaining brothers.

I never knew Little Tommy, my mother's brother killed by a car when he as a toddler. But my memories of my uncle Bill go back to my childhood years when he and his wife, Lorna, would visit us in my hometown, Hamilton. I doubt that there were more than a handful of visits from any of mum's brothers over the years. But I remember them all and the joy those visits brought my family.

When I was 17 I spent some time convalescing from a severe and prolonged bout of Glandular Fever at Bill and Lorna's home in Bendigo. I still remember the address, though I've only been there once since. I was 1/3 of my current age then.

At Bills 90th birthday my mum told a story about when, as a very young child, she told her big brother Bill that she was cold. He reached out, took her hand and put it in his pocket. She remembers that story still, more than 80 years after the event.

I'm only sorry that I hadn't made the effort to visit Bill and Lorna over recent years. Ironically I'd spoken with my youngest sister recently about organizing a day trip where a few of us kids would be able to travel up together and spend some time with the two of them. They say it's the thought that counts, but action counts for much more and I wish I'd got it together.

Much loved and dearly missed, Bill Gearon may you rest in peace.

Night Photography in Winter

Evening, Melbourne skyline and Yarra River from Southbank. Canon 5D camera and Canon 24mm f1.5 L series lens, 1/4 second @ f1.4.

This photo goes back a few years. It was made on a rainy night in Melbourne, Australia looking across the Yarra River from Southbank towards the city. It's a straightforward image that records the low hanging clouds, illuminated by the city lights, the neon lit train carriageway and the reflections on the river.

The Moment Between Events

But there's something special about night photography. It's an eerie time of day, to be sure. Perhaps it's the sense of quiet, the moment between events, that allows the enthusiastic photographer to more completely immerse themselves into their work. No doubt there's an ethereal quality associated with city lights. A quality that's often amplified when working under inclement weather. It's amazing how the extra moisture in the air is effected by the city lights.

But there's other factors that affect the sense of quiet and stillness within the image. For a start there's usually a lot less people in the city at night compared to the hustle and bustle associated with normal daytime activity.

White Reveals, Black Conceals

The only reason we can differential one note from another in music is because of the space (e.g. silence) between those notes. Theres's an important rule in digital photography which states white reveals, black conceals (e.g. hides). In the case of photography it's the surrounding darkness that both adds a sense of mystery, by hiding some potential image detail and, at the same time, enhances the perceived luminosity of adjacent brighter areas within the image.

Have no doubt that black effects the perceived brightness as well as the actual contrast of an image. If you want your photos to jump of the screen or print consider the relationship between important highlight and shadow areas within the image. And that's as important when composing the image, in camera, as it is working on the desktop.

Ladakh - Land Of The Passes

Glenn Guy and friends surrounded by Buddhist prayer flags over looking Leh, Ladakh. Canon F1 camera.

What's Your Comfort Zone?

The weather has cooled down over recent weeks in Melbourne, Australia. What's more the heater in my lounge room is on the fritz. Looks like I can't get a technician over until Tuesday. Still it's not all that bad and the less than toasty temperature at home reminds me of my early days traveling.

Memories of Days Past

My very first trip of 3 1/2 months in 1988 including a visit to Ladakh (land of the passes) on the Tibetan plateau in the far north of India. The guesthouse I was staying in cost just a couple bucks a night. An old granny would bake flat bread on an ancient stove and you'd smear it with home made apricot jam. The jam was made from fruit from the nearby Nubra Valley (a disputed border region that, back then, tourists were not permitted to visit).

Here's to Old Friends

Prior to breakfast I'd be out and about making photos, most of which were ruined due to both camera and (film) processing related issues. The above image is one of the few that survived. It features me (I'm the one in green) and some friends on a hilltop over looking the capital Leh. There are Buddhist prayer flags flapping about in the wind.

After breakfast we'd line up for a shower. It was rustic to say the least. The water, coming directly from snow melt from the surrounding mountains, was carted by hand by an old granny from an outlet several blocks away. She was well into her 60's but was as tough as old boots. She'd carry the water in a large metal jerry can, secured with rope around her shoulders. You just knew she'd be able to chew you up and spit you out again without raising a sweat. She most certainly had my respect.

As the water was poured into a large 44 gallon drum on top of the shower block the idea was to delay the shower for as long as possible, without waiting for the day's water to run out, in the hope that it would be heated by the sun's rays. It probably did take the edge off, but boy oh boy was it cold. Talk about a bracing experience. I never got out of that shower without a headache. Kind of like the one you'd get as a kid after eating ice cream too fast. But, rather than based around the forehead, this one was centered around the skull with the rest of the body encased in a dull ache.

For years afterwards I used to spend the last few minutes of my daily shower, even in winter time, under cold water in the hope that it would help me acclimatize to those horrible Himalayan shower experiences. It never did, though I'd like to think it was still beneficial.

It's interesting that not long after my heater went on the blink that I began, unplanned, to look back through my picture archive. And the above photo is the result.

Looking Back

I have many great memories from my first overseas trip in 1988. It's true to say that it changed my life. And after the initial disappointment associated with losing most of my photos I determined to return again next year, which I did. And I've kept at it ever since. Photography hasn't just recorded my travel experiences, it's also informed and enhanced them. I can barely imagine traveling without my camera gear. Like would definitely be easier, but no where need as exciting.