Greatest Hits of the Summer: July

Since it's been a good three months without an update, what I'm going to do with my free time over the next few days is go through my photos of the summer and early autumn in an attempt to showcase the stuff that doesn't totally suck.


Photos of Salisbury Cathedral, shot with Leicaflex SL on some sort of crap Kodak reversal film and Vario-Elmar 35-70mm f/3.5:
















































My friend Emily's birthday party, shot with Leicaflex SL on Fuji Sensia 400 transparency:































Pelin (http://www.myspace.com/pelinmusic) at the Cobden, July '09.

Shot on D70 with Nikkor-P 105mm f/2.5 and a fuckton of gain.

























OK, I lied. This one is definitely the work of the 35-105mm f/3.5-4.5 zoom. Only because I could have done the same thing with a point-and-shoot.



















More to come!

Yellow

Like the Coldplay song. Except less shitty.

Not dead yet, just wildly busy. More photos to file than I know what to do with, so check back for updates.

Photography, Nokia-style

Last night in the middle of Brighton's Corn Exchange--part of this year's Loop Festival (www.loopbrighton.com)--I went to one of the best shows I've seen in ages.

If you don't know Fever Ray, they're half of The Knife and at least 95% as awesome. I mean word on the street is that they are getting a lot of airplay on US radio, but I'm frankly not into such philistinism so I can't confirm.

The laser show alone would have been worth the price of entry, but Karen Andersson and crew rocked the house with tectonically slow syncopation for over an hour. The only problem was the fact that I didn't have a camera to capture the ridiculous laser + fog machine + incense effects that were damn near trance-inducing, even though I was sober.

So what I'm thinking is I need more loyal readers so that everyone can chip in a dollar or a quid or what have you and some day I'll be able to afford a Leica D-Lux 4 (yes, but a D-Lux 3 doesn't accept external flash, the bastards) or a Canon G9: a pocket-sized point-and-shoot camera with manual controls that looks acceptably cheap to doltish security personnel.

I would be unstoppable.

Nevertheless, enjoy:































































































































The weird-ass thing to the left that looks like two pillars with Christmas lights strung on them is actually Karen in her giant fur outfit. It's not quite a coat, but more something that you might wear in the dead of winter in the coldest regions of the Ice Planet Hoth. It was sweltering in the auditorium, by the way. And for what it's worth, those may well have been Christmas lights strung into the coat-type thing.






























Also: there are some great video clips with pitiful sound, also thanks to Nokia. If anyone knows how to upload videos instead of just photos from a Nokia 6300 to a computer, your expertise would be appreciated.

All a Bit Flash

Here's a shout-out of sorts to the lovely folks chez Nikon: the one piece of kit I've ever bought new, an SB-600 flash unit, crapped out less than two months out of the package. Here's hoping your warranty is good.

I make do 1) by falling in love with ultra-fast lenses and 2) more pertinently gimping around with a Leica SF-20 flash that I really need to sell (give me a shout if you're interested: TTL on M6/M7, £60). The SF-20 has a reputation for being somewhat weak. God knows where that came from, because to me it's like trying to take a piss and realizing that you're holding a fire hose instead.

Nevertheless, some interesting effects came out of playing around with it. Here are the results:






































This is one of the more sinister photos I've ever taken, of some of the least sinister people I know. She'll bite your straw and he'll drink you to death with a determined stare.

















And then sometimes it was dead-on.



















I'll never figure this crap out.

London Block Party

A phenomenon not exactly endemic to London happens at least once a year on several lucky East London streets: the block party. I live on one of these streets.

Save a breakup, it's the world's best excuse for a Sunday night piss-up... at least to a Yank like me, unused to doing such things as part of the culture.

Lots of interesting stuff happened: between the one-man band and the incessant Jackson 5 (nobody minded), there were dogs, booze, and great curry.








































If this is all too vanilla for some of you, there was some underage keg-love going on,













as well as a capella renditions of your favorite Motörhead classics.













My roommate














even managed to take a flattering candid shot of me. I really didn't think that was possible.













I'll just have to remember to drink irresponsibly next time someone does a photo shoot of me.