Welcome to this, the first Visual Art Magazine of 2024. I hope you love it as much as I do. We would usually aim to produce a Magazine earlier in the year but, as most readers will know, we felt it appropriate to first produce and print the recent Monograph in memory of our friend, Ray Higginbottom ARPS.
In response to my predecessor John Cavana’s appeal for a designer to look after our publications, we have been very lucky to retain the services of Jacqui Adams at Demiurge Design. Production of magazines relies on a number of people – we are fortunate with our guest editors (Ray was one).
Nicki Gwynn-Jones FRPS, who has edited this wonderful issue and has done a sterling job over the years, will now step down from the task to pursue her other interests. We thank her for her contribution to introducing us to interesting photographers. Martin Addison FRPS will be joining Linda Wevill FRPS on the editing team, which will produce two magazines plus one monograph annually.
The regrettable slight reduction in our published output has been occasioned by sharply rising costs and the RPS’s decision to charge us for HQ services. Your committee has made plans to mitigate the effect of these changes
Editor’s Comments
NICKI
One of the joys of being a contributing editor is that I get to speak to photographers from all over the world and, for this edition, I am delighted to bring you work from Japan, Spain, England, Scotland and Canada. The universal theme that links all of our contributors is finding silence and solace in nature – was this ever more important?
Born in Romania, Oltea Sampetrean is now based in Tokyo. She has been a brain surgeon for 20 years and is also a researcher in cancer biology. Since 2016, she has been expressing the beauty of life and natural forms through fine art photography. The images that she has chosen to feature are all from modern –day Tokyo – fleeting moments in nature are captured, her unique method of expression serving to highlight their transience.
Jaume Llorens is from the Porqueres region of Catalonia and, although he graduated in psychology, he no longer
practises. He has loved photography since he was a teenager and has won many prestigious awards. Jaume seeks silence and contemplation and is never happier than when exploring his local region. Featured here are images from his Gaia series, in which he explores links, echoes and resonances between photographs of his natural environment.
Elizabeth Hockney is a GP working in London and finds photography to be the perfect antidote to her working life. It connects her to the things that she loves the most – travel, being out in nature, trekking in remote places and gardening. She is especially proud of her wildflower meadow. She loves the playfulness of exploring new techniques, using her camera to paint and blend, creating beautifully impressionistic images and showcasing her love of colour. Based in Northeast Scotland, the landscape has always been central to Michela Griffith’s life. Working as a Chartered Landscape Architect for 24
wherever possible. Our Regional Groups (Rollright, Northern and SouthWest) continue to offer very popular local events and will soon be joined by the new London Group, organised by Linda Wevill FRPS.
I hope you will continue to enjoy your Visual Art Group membership. If you have any material to contribute, especially for the popular Newsletter, do please let us know. The Group exists solely for the benefit of its members. Enjoy your photography – and share the best with us all.
Best wishes, Mark
years, photography became her creative outlet after moving to the Peak District National Park in 2007. Her photographic practice changed dramatically in 2012 when her local river, the Dove, became her muse, and writing about this led to her involvement with the On Landscape photography magazine.
Born and raised in Budapest, Sarolta (Sasa) Gyoker now lives in Ottawa. She is drawn to the mystical and mysterious dimension of the manifest world; light, silence, abstracted forms and shapes, stripped – down elements in nature – all of this lies at the heart of her way of seeing. Her focus in photography has been to reveal what she perceives as the essence of what appears in front of her. Sarolta has won many awards for her work.
More details of awards and publications from the above photographers can be found on their websites. I hope you enjoy their contributions.
Nicki
GWYNN-JONES FRPS
Seeking Silence
JAUME LLORENS
My raw material is nature. Probably because of my introverted character I feel particularly at ease when I am alone amidst natural surroundings, and photography often serves as an excuse to enter into the quiet of these environments. I seek silence, and the older I get, the more I need it. I believe that silence and nature are two of the essential elements in my way of living photography. In my way of living life, in fact.
Approaching the world around me in a contemplative and quiet way makes me feel more connected and receptive – it seems to amplify and sharpen my
sensitivity so that I can better capture details, sensations and impressions that might easily go unnoticed.
I usually explore the region near my home, and am fortunate to have the beautiful Banyoles Lake close by, a constant source of inspiration and learning. Most of my photos are taken on foot or by bike around this area. Some even from home. Within an hour’s drive, I have access to the sea, mountains, impressive forests, and other landscapes, which I occasionally visit too, but I don’t usually travel far for photography – I’m very happy with what I find close to home.
One of my favourite photographers, Paul Cupido, once quoted Kikou Yamata as saying that haiku was ‘the art of reducing the infinite pleasure of emotion to its essence’. This phrase defines very well what I would like to achieve when I get behind the camera. I aim to capture the spirit of the unique moments that move me emotionally or aesthetically, and to convey these sensations to the viewer in a way that is austere and pared back.
In my photos, I am more interested in suggesting than showing – when everything is explicit you leave little room for interpretation. If the image is
less descriptive or has a more poetic intention you are offering the viewer a space for play, so that they can interpret it according to their background, history or emotions. If this happens, it closes a precious circle of communication that as a photographer I experience as a real gift. It is like a meeting of minds.
Saul Leiter said, ‘I simply looked at the world, not prepared for anything...’. That statement really resonates with me. I rarely go out looking for specific images that I have already anticipated – I just go out and let myself be touched by everything that somehow impresses me or speaks to me in some way, and you end up finding hidden beauty in the most ordinary things.
As a result, I don’t usually take photographs with a particular project in mind. I collect images intuitively, according to what speaks to me at that moment and, when I review my archive, it is then that I find images that have a dialogue with one another, grouped around the same thread, and that a series will begin to take shape.
But editing, in the sense of selecting images and constructing a sequence, is very difficult for me. It is a much more painstaking and rational process and requires different skills, different abilities than those needed to take the photographs. I admit that I am not proficient enough. I once heard from the head of a photobook publishing house that you learn to edit by editing. I’m afraid there’s still a long way to go.
Gaia series
The photos I present to you are part of the ongoing Gaia series, which takes its name from the hypothesis of James Lovelock and Lynn Margulis that describes the Earth as a single superorganism in which living beings,
and the rest of the planet, establish a self-regulating equilibrium that guarantees the survival of the whole. What I have done is to juxtapose photographs of my natural environment and explore what links, echoes and resonances are established between them – how one natural element relates to the other, and to see how they end up creating a reality different from the simple sum. Each image contributes something to the one that it accompanies, creating a new reality, a harmonious whole.
This effect is linked to Ralph Gibson’s theory of ‘visual overtones’, according to which, when two images are put together, an effect similar to that of
music can be produced, when two or more tones are combined to generate a third, different, richer and more complex one.
Sometimes the result of the combination has a surreal quality. It puts you one step away from reality. I think this leaves the viewer more room for interpretation and, with a bit of luck, we can find a way to close that precious communicative circle about which we were talking before.
The aim of this game of juxtapositions is twofold. On the one hand, it reminds us of the hidden links between the different elements – living and non – living beings – and that these links are key to the planet’s self-regulation. On the other, it also reminds us of an obvious fact: that our species is a precious part of this circle of life, and that we therefore have an urgent responsibility to pay attention to it, and to actively contribute to its balance, its survival, which, of course, is also our own.
Website: jllorens.com
Instagram: @jaume.llorens
Facebook: Jaume Llorens – Fotografies
Small Beauty Noticed:
Words as a Vessel to Explore Water, Nature and Place
MICHELA GRIFFITH
Suddenly there it is, that spark that reconnects you with child-like wonder. What at first I take to be a bird is a bat giving an impromptu acrobatic display in the middle of the afternoon. That’s all it takes, one open-mouthed moment, to shift the needle on the day.
I am primarily a visual artist yet within the last year writing has become an essential part of my creative process. I used to think that it was books that enthralled me, but I now realise it is words. While they seem so clearly defined, their meanings recorded in black and white, they can be cajoled, manipulated and tugged until they evoke something new.
I have been photographing for longer than I care to remember. From the colour and movement of the River Dove close to my previous home in the Peak District, to the soft mirror of ephemeral pools in Northeast Scotland where I now live, water has fundamentally altered my vision and practice over the last 12 years. I take inspiration from the smallest of details as I wander around the moss (a lowland
raised bog). How my images feel is as important as what they look like and I have begun to loosen the reins on my interpretations; we commonly think of water as liquid, but it is equally vapour and at times may, briefly, be solid. I have learned to abstract even more, to dream a landscape, sometimes mixing the sights with the ambient sounds of this quiet place. The space and the ambiguity that this creates invites each of us to find our own interpretations within the works.
A desire for creative growth nudged me to experiment with mixed media. Where possible I follow nature’s prompts, improvising tools and collecting materials; spontaneity seems to energise both me and my process. Prints on the thinnest of papers create a colour ground; this diaphanous layer substitutes for the surface of the water that I photograph. There are depths below to peer into and marks above to follow: gesso, ink, acrylic paint, pen and pencil. I rarely use brushes preferring to push the materials around, score lines, flick or drop marks and build texture.
I photograph, make, instinctively; I respond to what I find and what speaks to me. I began writing to reflect on where my curiosity was taking me and to see if it might inform my future direction. Water has been part of it, not just in prompting me, but in the language of it that I chose to record –reflected skeins of light, complex and shifting. Last year I found this asemic writing creeping into my mixed media.
So why write? In a sense it is also an attempt to find my own marks – to evoke in the same way that the visual prompts me to respond; lines that flow when it goes well, stumble and fail when it doesn’t. A memory that can be revisited, without the evanescence of time.
Greens and golds abound on stem and leaf. Wet grasses hang low with the weight of silver
coin. Pricks of bright blue harebell and fluffy purple scabious nod to each other politely and a constellation of dots, pink through purple, draws a picture of the heath.
Since Summer 2023, I have written every week, and, since November 2023, every day. I realised that if I wanted to achieve my ambition of a regular habit, there was only one way to do it – by writing. There was no point waiting for inspiration or for the right time. It was perhaps inevitable that after drafting an email each week for six months to my creative coach I would find their absence left a gap. It’s ironic that while my ambition for the coaching was to build my studio practice, its biggest legacy has been in the form of writing – but then it was
Sam Clark’s (www.samanthaclark.net) own weekly newsletter that led me to make our arrangement.
For a while I quested for a place to share words beyond website or social media algorithms. After a false start on Medium, a fellow artist’s post pulled me into Substack in August; I set up an account so that I could comment and, before I knew it, I had begun. It took the commitment of setting out my stall there and telling subscribers that I would write to them every week for regularity to become reality.
Early on, I found a way of working that suited me: rather than sit facing a blank sheet or screen, I took to making voice notes as I walked. Previously, I had waited until I got home to write observations down; it didn’t always happen. This new method proved fortuitous: in many respects I’m taking readers with me, sharing the moment
and my observations as they occur. It gives the writing an immediacy and I am finding that the act of talking aloud – thinking aloud – nudges me not just into noticing more outside but making connections across media. It has also prompted me to contemplate whether for all the years I have spent looking and photographing, it is through writing that I have begun to truly notice the small beauty around me.
Today, I found pleasure in a clump of heather, opened like a shell as if to bask in the absent sun. Pink froth around its edge, the centre relaxed in senescence. Lichen growing on old wood; moss soft furnishing the tussock below. Last night’s rain has added sparkle and decorated the umbrellas of webs that appear as if to catch summer’s end.
The pain came from a late flush of midges and a rare still morning. They gathered around my face as I retreated beneath my hood. Periodically, I had to move away, and then return, a courtship dance of kinds to match that of the midges. I can feel
them again as I write this, crawling and nipping.
I may not yet have found the perfect words to describe the palette of this place, but I know that the mulch of leaves and the falling rain has been feeding me too; I have found this period of regular writing immensely enriching. Creativity, photographing, making: all help to still a busy and restless mind. Writing is now a part of this and
something that I can throw myself into anywhere, anytime. Any place. I don’t necessarily need to be able to travel, wait for the light, have the right gear, or even a spark – if I apply myself, one will at some point pop up and say ‘hello’.
As with photography, I am learning more about me – and about you. While the first motivation may be intrinsic, writing connects beyond the visual, reaching out to others. It’s a stepladder, an invitation, and may be especially valuable when the images are not only abstract but ambiguous too.
Since moving here, I have again worked close to home. I am fortunate to be able to walk from my door; this does feel like an essential part of my process. While water is still my muse, I have increasingly photographed the land, nature, vegetation. This is part of the development; I now know that I am seeing things with softness, with fluidity. It has allowed me – finally –to see both photography and mixed media as part of the whole. My many
diversions are not distractions but are part of me working this place out and my relationship with it. There is a greater part in it for seasonality, for experimenting indoors as well as out, for staying curious. Writing on a weekly basis has been a revelation and a bloggy newsletter suits me better than the accelerated transience of other platforms. I am finding that words –like water – are fluid and are further helping to bind my work to nature and place.
And then it is the grasses that occupy me: the grace of line, the dot of dew. I forget the discomfort of the low pose, the incipient ache in my back. Every so often I straighten and stretch, the sun now warm on my face. This is something I will return to and remember.
The world today unfolds at a breathtaking pace. Experiences are shared in moments, information flows without boundaries. Yet within us, a deeper rhythm persists – a yearning for stillness, a connection with nature, a sense of time unbound. Photography is my path to connect to those spaces. My images lean towards a classic, analogue aesthetic.
A handcrafted prism of three mirrors held before the lens is my tool. Its shifting angles capture a dance of light and reflections, revealing a serenity and timelessness that lie just beneath the surface of our ever – changing world.
‘Kachoufuugetsu’, literally meaning flowers, birds, wind and moon in kanji characters, is a concept I first learned about after moving from Europe to
Japan after high school. It is a theme that has inspired many artists over the ages in different media such as haiku, paintings and woodblocks.
Through a lens, focused on these same timeless elements, my camera captures these fleeting natural moments – a flower in full bloom, a bird taking flight, the changing moon. The unique way they are enveloped in the changing light, superimposed on the image by the kaleidoscope prism, highlights their transient beauty.
Compositions are created in-camera, processed only to remove colours and slightly tone shadows in blue and highlights in cream. This palette transfers beautifully to Japanese washi paper, giving the final prints a similarity to ink paintings.
The images chosen here are from present-day Tokyo – koi fish shimmering beneath the surface of a pond in the gardens of the Imperial Palace, birds resting quietly in trees along the Sumida River, the moon rising behind silhouetted pine trees. ‘Kachoufuugetsu’ is one volume within my larger ‘Eternal Poems’ portfolio which explores themes of calm, deep connections to nature, and the transient beauty of the present moment. My creative process often involves working on several thematic series simultaneously over many years.
Alongside ‘Kachoufuugetsu’, other volumes reflect diverse inspirations: from Japanese concepts like ‘Hachou No Bi’, the imperfect perfect, to my background in medicine and its surprising kinship with the branching patterns of trees and blood vessels. My approach to photographic equipment mirrors the organic nature of my work. Each camera and lens becomes a trusted companion for years, guiding my artistic explorations until necessity or serendipity leads me to the next.
A mirrorless, waterproof Olympus camera, chosen for its practicality during a trip to Niagara Falls, unexpectedly ignited my photographic journey. The Olympus PEN-F was my daily partner for several years, introducing me to a vibrant community of artists, educators and friends. It was for this camera that I crafted the first prism – a simple cylinder with mirrors, attached to the lens with a rubber band – and discovered a whole new world of evershifting light, fragmented by the prism, like a shattered mirror reflecting the world.
One day, drawn to the intricate textures of bread, I transitioned to a full-frame camera to capture microscopic echoes of the human body. This shift was the beginning of another of my ongoing series, ‘Pathology Atlas’, and the encounter with my current camera, the Sony ILCE A7R. Even my prism has evolved, now housed in a simple plastic bottle and guided solely by my hand.
My sources of inspiration are deeply personal. Walks within the neighbourhood are the starting point for almost every series. I find myself drawn repeatedly to photograph similar subjects, such as leaves or branches, under the ever-changing play of light and through the seasons. Most images are simple meditations that clear my head and calm my heart. Some instantly reveal their place within a series. Others unveil unexpected connections or new paths during post-processing. The
creative process is a constant source of joy, as is delving into works that explore similar themes across various artistic disciplines. For the botanical series, I am inspired not only by the photographic works of Anna Atkins and Karl Blossfeldt but also by the illustrations of Ernst Haeckel and Shibata Zeshin, Japanese paintings of the Rinpa school, and the more abstract Sumi ink paintings of Shinoda Toko.
Looking to the future, I will not only continue exploring the series I’ve begun, but I’m also eager to integrate my photographic works more seamlessly into everyday life.
Printing on Japanese washi paper allows for the creation of not only beautiful prints but also opens doors to adorning traditional objects like hand fans and folding screens.
I’m particularly intrigued by how combining photographs with different traditional media can further reveal the ephemeral beauty woven into the everyday, shedding new light on the eternal poems present all around us.
Website: oltea-photo.com
Instagram: @oltea_mono
Finding Treasure
ELIZABETH HOCKNEY
As I sit to write this article, I am just back from a week on the Isle of Harris in the Outer Hebrides. It was there that my journey into creative photography started two years ago, and where I discovered what I now regard as ‘treasure’ – the unexpected joy of creative photography. I know
that I now connect with the world differently and, as importantly, have met like-minded people. To coin an increasingly popular expression, ‘I have found my tribe’.
I often ask myself why I take photographs, and I expect a lot of photographers wonder the same thing. I
now know the answer: I do it for my own pleasure and wellbeing. In fact, I have been taking photographs ever since I was a teenager – I remember being so excited to get the films developed but being so disappointed with the results!
I gave my husband a camera as a wedding present. He never used it – but
ELIZABETH HOCKNEY
I did! At the time, I was lucky enough to have a small darkroom in my attic where many happy hours were spent experimenting but, for the next three decades, my photography was confined to holidays or special occasions, recording these in a photo-journalistic style and then producing a photobook full of precious memories. They were lovely and I am still proud of them, but they are very different to what I do now.
Back then, I was creating the visual story line of an occasion; now I am creating images that feel like an emotional response to an experience. The stories that I tell now are different – they are
often a tale of the everyday – perhaps of a walk, or of things that catch my eye because of their colour, lines, or for the quality of the light.
Like most people, I am never far from my mobile phone, and I have found that using it for photography and creative expression is liberating. I don’t need to go far. I don’t need to go to honeypot locations. I don’t need to be chasing the
light. I can just use what is in front of me – whatever is offered at that moment.
During the covid lockdown, many of us became more connected to the simple beauty of our everyday surroundings. It was a difficult time for everyone and for me it followed close on the heels of a time of ill health and self-exploration, and I am sure that this is why I am so keen to have emotion expressed in the images that I now create.
I have always enjoyed photography, but over the last few years it has developed into a means of self-expression and
creativity that provides an antidote to my busy life. In my work as a GP, my patients’ physical and mental welfare are at the centre of everything I do, and I have come to realise that picturemaking is an activity that encompasses so many aspects of wellbeing. It involves creativity, mindfulness, selfexpression and technical skills in the editing and printing of images – there are so many potentially beneficial outcomes. I am happiest out in nature, in wild remote places or in my garden. I love watching the sea, using my camera as a paintbrush to create images that I find beautiful. I enjoy the freedom and flexibility of creative
photography. I enjoy experimenting with different techniques and the thrill of seeing what appears in the viewfinder. I can lose myself for hours.
Early on in our lives we all make decisions that take us on a particular path, usually involving family and/or career, and that path can be so timeconsuming that we either fail to see or fail to follow the signs encouraging us into the side roads, the
slower roads, and the more scenic ways through life.
Sometimes we hit the buffers. These times are hard, but they can offer us a gift, as creativity is often unleashed after an emotional upheaval.
I sometimes wonder if I am a frustrated painter. I know that I cannot express myself with paint in the way that I would like to, but I can see that I am now using my camera as a paintbrush and the world as my canvas, to communicate what I see in my own personal, unique way. The beauty of creative photography is that you can do it anywhere, and whatever the weather.
ELIZABETH HOCKNEY
It is truly liberating.
This collection of images was taken at Loch Insh, at the Creative Light Festival run by Margaret Soraya. I named the series ‘Treasure’ because the images encapsulate so many of the feelings I came away with: treasure freely given, treasure gratefully received, treasure found, treasure shared, treasure the memory, treasure the fellowship.
We were fortunate, as the birch trees were at the height of their autumn glory, their leaves fluttering in the wind like small squares of gold leaf.
Set against the grey skies heavy with rain, they were briefly illuminated with warm light, giving them a fleeting radiance that evoked feelings of richness and wonder, all words I would use to describe the three days of the Festival.
I did not set out to create images like these but, rather, took pictures of things I was attracted to, either because of their colour, their lines, or because of the light. I realise now that this is often how I work, sometimes using my phone and sometimes my
Canon R5. It is intuitive and instinctive work, often just a reflex response to something I connect with. Then I play and experiment using Photosplit blend modes to combine photographs, watching as different versions unfold on the screen in front of me. Occasionally it works the other way round – I have an idea and go out looking for images to convey that thought.
I will often work the same photograph in different ways to see what emerges, and I might attach a word to some of the images, even if that is never shared. In my featured work, it was the emerging gold and silver that I was attracted to, and I realised that it spoke of treasure, the word I had already
ELIZABETH HOCKNEY
chosen for the weekend. And that is how this series came to life: inspiration provided by nature, colours brought to life by light, and encapsulation of the emotion generated by the experience.
As artists, we are visual story tellers seeking to elicit an emotional response in those who view our work. These emotions come from deep within us and how we see the world – I see the world as a canvas full of colour and beauty for each of us to express in our own way with the creative implement tools that we have been given.
These are mine.
Instagram: @elizabethhockney3
The Act of Photographing – A Flow State
SAROLTA GYOKER
To me the act of photographing is a flow state in which I forget about myself, my fears and life situations, the past and the future. I get completely immersed in what moves me, be it a tiny plant in the snow, the branches against the afternoon sun, the infinite variations of ripples on a creek, the vastness of space by the river, or people’s faces when most open and trusting. Through the process of photographing, I am given the gift of floating in a space that feels soft and insubstantial, and whilst I do encounter the odd person who looks baffled at my funny antics and by my intense focus on my choice of subject, I am like a child – saucereyed, attentive and playful.
Without conceptualisation, and by falling back on my intuition, I try to peel
away the unnecessary, both within and without, while slowly resting my eyes and lens on what may hold inspiration. I find there is often something immediate and spontaneous that occurs in moments of abandonment and in deep inner stillness, be it on a solitary walk or in unexpected encounters.
If this immediacy begets a photo, it stems from a place beyond words and cognition, somewhere from the junction of the hidden chambers of the subconscious and the bright-filled expanse of the spirit.
Emptying myself of myself is the beautiful side-effect of this therapy that we call photography. It is as though I am obsessed by a double-edged sword: I know that it is a marvellous gift, and it is an inner urge that propels me to go out and find a sense of mental quietude mixed with wonder, yet it cannot help but bring up the nagging question of how I contribute to the world through this all-consuming, yet contemplative passion. But when someone tells me they find an exhibited or published shot moving, or with which they resonate deeply, my fears are assuaged.
I often accompany my photographs with a haiku or a quote from a poem when I publish or exhibit them. I hope that they may form a symbiosis, and that my photos may give expression to my state of mind in the way that the
quotes or haikus do through the written word. Often, I will take photos not knowing exactly why at first – all I know is that I am drawn to what I see at that moment, without involving the mind in the process. Later, when it comes to revisiting them, I see that the resulting images expressed something that either originated deep in the subconscious, or in a place beyond fears and concerns. In this sense, photography is also a continuing therapy and self-revelation for me.
Winters have been a particular source of inspiration for me. The stripping down of underlying forms in the pristine, fresh snow (unfortunately rarer and rarer as the climate changes), creates not only graphic beauty but also coincides with my aesthetic of laying bare and expressing, as much as possible, the silence that envelops us all – trees, shrubs, frozen rivers, and myself, waiting. The silence from which we come and to which we return.
Instagram: @sasagyoker
Facebook: sarolta
Email: sgyoker@yahoo.com
This bright harvest moon keeps me walking all night long around the little pond.
Looking Out Over The Forest
Marilyn Taylor FRPS
GOLD MEDAL WINNER
Every so often you see an image that immediately resonates with you. It is certainly eye catching (pun intended) and has impact, but look closer and you can admire the creative thinking behind the image. How the patterns and colour in the iris mimic the forest above. The trees reflected in the pupil as the eye gazes into the distance. The harmonious colour palette together with areas of sprayed gold that reminds me of looking up at the cosmos. Even the small blood vessel has a part to play in the overall composition. A very welldeserved recipient of the Gold Medal.
This is a beautiful and yet slightly disturbing image, which serves to remind us of the importance of the forest. Visually, it is extremely well put together with an ethereal colour choice. The luminosity of the iris is beautiful and, amongst the dark trees, it becomes believable. The simplicity of subject choice makes for a powerful message. Here we have an intriguing and clever concept, sensitively and purposely put together. There are many subtleties of design, including the dark pupil, which has the forest reflected within. Or is it the inner forest looking out? This is a well-deserved Gold Medal.
Both William Shakespeare and Leonardo da Vinci are quoted as saying that ‘the eyes are the window to your soul’. In this image, we have a very powerful representation of how we may view our environment, especially the forest – the lungs of the world. The colours used provide a rather pessimistic outlook and even the red blood vessel could allude to our pollution of the environment, especially our rivers. This is an image that has depth and opens discussion about the message rather than the technique.
Paul Mitchell FRPS
Tessa Mills FRPS
Ray Spence FRPS
Dancing Leaves
Liz Scott ARPS
PAUL MITCHELL FRPS AWARD
Paul Mitchell FRPS
I am always a strong believer that simplicity can be the key to a successful image. It is, in all intents and purposes, a pure black and white low key image with subtle hints on tone as the reeds emerge from the water. Whether this has been the result of an infrared capture does not really matter; it is the overall effect that is important. As much as I enjoy the composition of the grouped area of reeds, it is the surrounding vegetation floating on the surface that reminds me of fluttering dragonflies chasing one another, and the reason it was my personal choice.
Patchwork Buildings
Paul O’Flanagan LRPS
TESSA MILLS FRPS AWARD
This delightful abstract is a joyful play on the suggestion of buildings. The result of original processing by Paul is a variety of techniques to create this mosaic effect, which reminds the viewer that big cities are composed of small individual building blocks.
The subtle irregularities of square shapes make a personal interpretation of these building blocks with a delicate sketching of a cityscape receding in the background. I am drawn to look closer to investigate the textures and to enjoy the soft colour palette.
This is a strong, yet delicate, image with an unlikely colour choice which works beautifully to give me thoughts of how exciting cities can be. It reminds me that – as photographers – we all see subjects through our own preferences and priorities.
Tessa Mills FRPS
Dying Art
Val Glenny ARPS
RAY SPENCE FRPS AWARD
Ray Spence FRPS
As an ex-biology teacher, I have always been fascinated by floral structures and the beauty of nature. As a lecturer in art schools, I became aware of the representation and use of flowers in art. Both of these are shown to great
effect in this image by Val Glenny. The arrangement, colours and flow of the flowers and butterflies in this image create a harmonious whole which is difficult to achieve. It is also one of those images which is rewarded by revisiting as new nuances become visible. The detail and construction
of the image with repetitive elements enhance the beauty of the subject matter. The image has been printed fairly small so invites the viewer to come close and scrutinise the content. I would be interested to see if a larger print could have even more impact.
HIGHLY COMMENDED VINERY BLUES
LORNA BROWN FRPS
HIGHLY COMMENDED WEATHERED JARS
JANET DOWNES LRPS
HIGHLY COMMENDED THE WHITE BOOK
NEIL SCOTT FRPS
COMMENDED BIG RED DRESS
DERWOOD PAMPHILON ARPS
COMMENDED DADA, ADAM OR EVE
PAUL ADAMS ARPS
COMMENDED LOOK TO THE HORIZON MICHAEL SAYER ARPS
AN INTRODUCTION TO EC4 (Email Circle 4)
EC4 is a group of enthusiastic photographers sharing and commenting on each others’ images under the auspices of the RPS. While we are an ‘email circle’ we actually share images and comments using a private, password protected, website. I am the secretary and webmaster of the group. Other email circles will use their own methods of communication –probably, but not necessarily, emails.
Our members are mainly based in the UK, but we have one member living in New Zealand and two in the USA. We come from many different backgrounds – anyone who shares a passion for photography is welcome, professional or amateur. You do not need to be an experienced photographer as our aim is to learn from each others’ constructive
criticism, or to be praised when we produce a great image!
We are part of the Royal Photographic Society Visual Art Group – I am not certain how to define ‘visual art’ but most photographic images, with some obvious exceptions, are acceptable.
‘Photographic’ doesn’t necessarily mean made with a camera – it just means made with light, so photograms, images made with scanners, etc., are all fine, though 99% of the images submitted to EC4 are camera-made images.
I hope you enjoy this small sample of images from some of our members, and that they inspire you to take more photos, or even join an email circle.
Anthony Corkhill ARPS
POSTAL AND EMAIL PORTFOLIOS
CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT
Ashley Franklin ARPS: Beauty In Decay
I have just got back from Tuscany where I’ve run two workshops and, although I had taken my photographers to the village of Lucignano d’Asso on five previous occasions, I hadn’t photographed this door and its surround before. Maybe it was due to the door being open that it caught my eye. This image is yet another reminder of why I love Italy ... I just love the way the Italians neglect their buildings! If this wall had been rendered, its appeal would have been diminished. And how old, I wonder, is that postbox?
Cliff Threadgold ARPS: Enigma
What caught my eye was the headless mannequin wearing the textured hat alongside the bald faceless mannequin. Somehow, it just didn’t seem quite right.
Anthony Corkhill ARPS: The New Job Club Dance
I spotted these two children literally dancing along the pavement and made this image as they passed the local Job Centre. I was very fortunate to be ready with my camera in the right time and place to be able to capture their movement.
Hunter Johnson LRPS: Route 66 Ruins #4
An image taken in New Mexico on a road trip along the ‘Mother Road’, Route 66 in the US. Although I’ve been taking photos like this for a long time, I just learned that there is a concept known as ‘liminal’ that this seems to fit. It was recently selected to be in an online show for liminal images.
Get even better value from your membership of the Visual Art Group: join a circle. Email circles are free to join, while print circles will cost you no more than postage. Meet new people keen to share their experience, to ask questions and to comment on your photographs. Get a different angle on your work from people who are neither fellow club members, nor your family! Members range from new recruits to very experienced photographers, from people who just want to enjoy their photography with new friends, to people working towards distinctions. There are print and email circles and we’d welcome a few more members. Join a circle. To join or ask for more information, just email Gill Dishart ARPS (gill@dishart.plus.com).
Members’ Print Exhibition 2024
To see the whole exhibition digitally, please scan the QR symbol above.
