A powerful feeling?

Oh what fun to be in a country where the Communists are still active. Just as we’re wrapping up today’s group tutorial, with the smell of uncollected rubbish wafting in through the window, another strike-related event takes place and the entire city plunges into darkness for today’s power cut. At first angry and upset I quickly realise there’s a positive side to the lack of electricity and head into the streets to photograph the chaos in the darkness on my phone. Just as I’m getting into the swing of things and thinking these Communists aren’t so bad after all the electricity goes back on again and I find myself getting angry and upset again for the complete opposite reason of why I was angry and upset just 20 minutes before. There’s a lesson in there somewhere. On an entirely different note, Kosovo has just announced a competition to write the newly founded state’s brand new national anthem. Open to all, the lucky winner not only gets the honour of having their very own masterpiece played at the Olympics and other high profile events around the world until the Russians start WWIII, but there’s €10,000 thrown in as a prize for good measure (no pun intended).

Cuba 50

In November 1998 I directed, shot, produced and edited five short films in Cuba for the UK broadcaster Channel 4 as part of the channel’s celebration of 40 years of the Cuban revolution (see stills, left). Ten years and one president later and I think it’s time to go back. Whether there’ll still be a Cuban revolution eight months from now is anyone’s guess. Mine is that regime change is unthinkable in 2008 and perhaps inevitable the following year. Whatever happens, January 1, 2009 marks the 50th anniversary of the Cuban Revolution and I want to revisit the island, this time as a photographer. My original brief was to film a series of short stories about ordinary people (ordinary in the West that is). This time I want to take photographs of ordinary people. Ideally I want to do this using a mobile phone and I’d like to get a mobile phone company to support the project financially. Utterly clueless, I’m writing this for the benefit of anyone out there with any ideas and/or connections.

Further adventures in portraits

I found the local headquarters of the Greek Communist Party, a time-warp if ever there was one, complete with pictures of Lenin, hammers and sickles and all the rest. I arrived without an appointment and met a nice chain-smoking lady called Olga who told me that individual portraits were out of the question as they were all communists (this didn’t tally with the pictures of Vladimir Ilyich scattered around, but I wasn’t going to argue). We agreed that a group portrait would be the best idea. Of course the whole thing’s gone to a committee to decide. I’m not holding my breath.

Back when I was sourcing ideas for my person at work brief one of the places on my list was the exceedingly photogenic workshop of a carpenter not far from where I’m staying here in Volos. Today I walked past his place on the way somewhere else and with the clock ticking I made my second visit without an appointment of the day. The dim lighting is too good to miss here, along with the way the place looks and the way he looks. I shot a few test pictures at 1600ASA to get some ideas and will go back tomorrow morning at 9am to shoot more. The guy speaks bad English so it could be fun, plus he keeps a large Doberman, who tried to make love to me every five seconds. The things we do for our art.

There’s a tattoo and piercing place in Volos and on my way home I popped in, again without an appointment, as I was sure there must be somebody in there worth pointing a camera at. Marios does all the piercing and has agreed to be photographed on Thursday morning.

I’ve got to call the orchestra back in 40 minutes. The sun’s behind the clouds for once, which for me is wonderful for photographing people, although I’ve no idea how a group portrait will work in such lighting conditions. There’s still a chance of course that they may say no.

Portraits, catch-up etc

Back from Ljubljana. An interesting few days, including such notable events as failing to find Tito’s leg and the man three seats in front of me on the plane from Vienna to Athens (I now look at the photography in magazines, including in-flight magazines, with a new, critical eye, sensing what the photographer was thinking and how they worked at getting the perfect compositional balance as well as what was going through the picture editor’s mind) having a totally out of control screaming fit as the plane banked steeply to the left immediately after a windy, wobbly take off. Interestingly (perversely?) I found myself chuckling at this, as I suddenly realised it was exactly 13 years to the day since I last sat on a plane with somebody screaming on it, that time being my first flight to Cuba on board a former Aeroflot Tupelov now in the hands of the national Cuban airline Cubana, its starboard engine sounding like somebody just poured a bucket of sand in it as it came in to make an emergency landing in Varadero during a particularly lively tropical storm. Thankfully we didn’t crash either time, a fact I was more than grateful for this time having just splashed out €20 on a copy of François Truffaut’s 1966 masterpiece Fahrenheit 451. I don’t think I know a film that possesses so much atmosphere. There’s something quite impossible to explain about it regardless of the horror behind the premise of the story. If you’ve never seen it then I suggest you track down a copy. Julie Christie was never better and Oskar Werner was never quite so odd. Shot by a youngish Nicolas Roeg, visually the film is a treat, featuring a host of ultra-low-budget sets and several scenes that were reversed during editing. The film was a flop on release, but it’s now considered a classic.

Having worked a ridiculous amount of hours during the previous fortnight and once again done a considerable amount of travelling I decided to give myself three days off work to wind down as well as concentrate on the course. I’d organised a portrait session in Ljubljana with one of Slovenia’s new rich businessmen but time for both of us proved impossible to make the date. I thus arrived back in Greece on Sunday afternoon with three days to go before portrait deadline and three portraits to shoot. Eager to get out of work mode as soon as possible I went out with a bunch of friends on Sunday evening, the day before the start of Lent when the whole of Greece becomes a carnival, everyone dresses up in stupid costumes, and people eat vast amounts of food. My point and shoot camera was still in my pocket, so I took a few interesting pictures without flash, this time with Homer’s voice added to Paul’s mumbling away in the back of my head every time I pressed the shutter. Last week in Ljubljana was also the first time I’d shot stuff for a city guide using my new knowledge. It certainly had an effect of just about everything I took a picture of, but looking at the finished results I still see I’ve got a lot to learn. I’m comforted by the memories of starting other things that I went on to become exceptionally good at, and what an idiot I was at the start. Not to say that my photography isn’t improving, but as Jono and myself were discussing last week, the strains of work really do eat into college time. What limited amounts of free time I have at the moment that I can put into photography more than often come with tiredness and a difficulty in giving the subject 100%. My plan for the next few months is to move further away from work and concentrate more and more on the photography. Just exactly how I’m going to do this without moving into a tent I haven’t quite worked out yet. A more partisan approach to the fact that I’ve got a surprisingly large number of filthy-rich friends would do the trick, but my irritating work ethic continues to get in the way.

Anyway, the party on Sunday night reminded me that Greece was going to be closed the next day (yesterday), effectively turning my three days into two. It’s a good job I love a challenge. I’m also relishing the constant struggle of trying to find subjects and negotiate with them in a country that still remains a mystery to me and whose language I don’t speak. Although it was entirely the right decision to leave Lithuania I can’t help thinking every time I have to find a subject to photograph how much easier it would’ve been in Lithuania, where after seven years I new everyone, understood the culture, and spoke the language. Here it’s the opposite. Bah! A couple of friends at our evening out were off to a free concert by the sea the next day, given by the Emory Wind Ensemble from Atlanta GA, currently touring Greece. I tagged along with my dSLR, and managed to corner the orchestra’s director, Scott Stewart, who agreed to let me come along to their dress rehearsal for their evening concert later in the day. A superb challenge for a group portrait, I wanted to get them somewhere outside with their instruments in an informal situation and take some pictures and thought it would be useful to get to know them a little by watching them rehearse and chat with a few of them. They’ve got a busy schedule, and as I write they’re all off on one of the islands but will be back this afternoon, hopefully in the right frame of mind and with enough time to let me photograph them. Watch this space. Never one to miss an opportunity, I thought I’d take some pictures of them rehearsing, which was a pig as the lighting was so bad, I don't know them or their habits, the music they play etc. I felt uncomfortable, didn't get the access I needed (or rather I felt uncomfortable clambering over them as they played) and realised it would never make a college piece as there was no opportunity to control the event. A wonderful experience all the same, looking over what I shot I realise my framing remains appalling. What I see through the viewfinder remains nothing like the finished photograph. Does anybody else suffer from this? One interesting observation, one that keeps rearing its head, is that whenever I take the kind of shots that I feel comfortable taking rather than the ones I feel I should be taking the results turn out better. But of course it’s not my instinct that needs to be developed, it’s the nuts and bolts of the work. Whilst I was waiting for them to turn up at the theatre I was approached by a fabulous-looking elderly Socialist who on learning I was English insisted on shaking my hand due to the fact that I came from the same country where they publish the Socialist Worker and where Karl Marx is buried. He very kindly let me take a quick picture of him (above), and I almost asked him if I could come and take more pictures of him another time. But I didn’t. My friend Anita, who I wrote about before concerning the Jewish bits and pieces I’ve photographed here, has offered to find out if one of Volos’ remaining Auschwitz survivors would mind if I took some pictures of them. I can’t see this happening before deadline if it happens at all, but as I see myself gravitating more and more into the area of portraiture, I can wait. It’s now lunchtime on Tuesday and to date everybody I’ve called about portraits has given, for one reason or another, a negative response. I’m now off to find the local headquarters of the Greek Communist Party (KKE) to see if I can find the main man and get him to agree to me taking pictures of him in his office.

I continue to be annoyed at myself for not making much progress with the Kosovo photographs. As I was really very much experimenting I don’t mind entirely, as I really do have to work hard at working out what it is I want to end up with. I simply don’t have the time at the moment, although I am, slowly, editing the 700 pictures down into a more manageable amount. I’ve got my 12 headings for the series and will continue to work on it, hopefully with the help of others on the course. As well as reading everything there is to know about Slovenia and Ljubljana, I’m also currently reading The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists and, for reasons to daft to go into, two of John Simpon’s three autobiographical books simultaneously. I hope you’re all having as much fun as I am.

Dog's dinner

Appalling weather here in Ljubljana. Met a Swiss guy at breakfast who told me about the two Swiss Cantons of Appenzell and St Gallen where the locals still eat dog meat. This has spoilt my image of Switzerland as the ideal place where the antithesis of everything photojournalistic resides. Eating dog meat is not dull. No time to write. Ljubljana still has plenty of Yugoslav-era relics, including plaques in abundance relating to the Partisans, including the one above.

Levels test

18:04, February 17, 2008. Pristina

The Prime Minister of Kosovo Hashim Thaçi (third from left) arrives at the Grand Hotel after signing the controversial document proclaiming unilateral independence from Serbia for his first public appearance as political leader of the newest country in the world. Somehow I was there on hand along with almost nobody else to capture the event on my mobile phone. The five-star Grand Hotel, whose roof Thaçi was about to be interviewed on, was the lively and entertaining media hub for the day's events. Interesting personal observations here included a complete lack of English-language television on any of the large screens, men in expensive suits pissing in the Gents' washbasins, and, strangely for such an event, no prostitutes.

What on earth am I going to do with all these pictures?

Do technical edit
Sort into groups *
Kill the babies

of course

* It looks not unlike Grand Opera…

1. Overture
2. Journey
3. Bus station party
4. Parade of vehicles
5. Militant march
6. Street scenes around 3pm
7. Hotel
8. Arrival of the Prime Minister
9. Crazy KLA guy in car
10. Evening celebrations
11. Interlude
12. The morning after

And I must remember to send the photographs Martin asked for.