An Unintentional Masterpiece? By Lindsay Stockbridge LPSNZ
THERE’S A FRAMED photograph on my wall. It’s not one of mine. There’s a story behind it, a story about a photograph that was nearly deleted. Why is it so important to me? Some years ago I travelled to Bannockburn, Central Otago, where eight or nine of us would take part in a five day creative workshop organised by Sally Mason FPSNZ. People arrived in dribs and drabs and settled in. We sat down for the first session in which we introduced ourselves and shared our reasons for coming to the course. One lady, whose name I forget, and I hope she’ll forgive me for sharing her work, said she had taken a horrible photograph on the way down from Christchurch, a photograph of the church at Tekapo. She said she intended to delete the image, but would appreciate our help in telling her where she had gone wrong. The image she showed us is shown here as Tekapo 1. At first it was embarrassing, because it appeared that EVERYTHING was wrong with it! And then someone, perhaps it was me, added some contrast and darkened the image. Tekapo 2 is what we now saw. If Tekapo 2 was entered in a club competition, what might a ‘not so great’ assessment of it sound like? Let’s listen in... “Much of the image is just white. It’s overexposed. It gives me no impression of the weather that day. Was there a blue sky? Were there clouds? Shouldn’t we see something other than white? “The range of colour tones is just so limited. I can just make out the bell, but there is nothing sharp in the image.
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“After a long inspection I believe this to be the Church of the Good Shepherd at Tekapo. You should revisit the area and photograph the church again; then you would have a good record shot. “This image, although perhaps well seen, is not even one for your album. Not accepted.” Well, what’s the story behind the photograph? The lady had travelled to Bannockburn from Christchurch. She and her husband, like thousands of others, had had their lives shattered by the huge earthquake that devastated the city. Their property was relatively undamaged, there had been no loss of life in their family, but both had lost their employment, their zest, their reason for being. They decided that she would benefit from attending the Sally Mason course at Bannockburn. He drove her all the way from Christchurch to Bannockburn, a distance of 430km, returned home – and did the return journey to pick up his wife five days later. He drove a total of 1720km. Nobody was prepared to say what had gone “wrong” with the photograph, but then I made a request. I asked that she not delete the image but put it on a memory stick and give it to me, because I regarded it as a very special image and I would like to frame it. And that is the photograph you see, Tekapo 2. I believe that behind every photograph there is a photographer, an experience, and a willingness to share something of that experience with the viewer. In doing so, the photographer offers something of him or herself.
