Half The Story

I don’t think I’ll ever not get excited when an email pops up from the lab to say my scans are ready. When I started shooting film again a few years ago, there’s sometimes that little added element of surprise with the first of the roll shot. The ones that are not shown in their entirety. The ones where I’ve taken the first test shot when the film wasn’t fully wound to its correct beginning position. What makes up the other section? Those colours that seep onto the image, the embers that burn onto the emulsion. Tiny fires that swallow a little part of the story.

I thought I’d share a few from the last couple of years.

And very occasionally, there’s a little surprise at the end too.

Valérie Wartelle on Film

I walked into Valérie’s studio space and marvelled at the floorboards beneath my feet. ‘They came from a boat that sailed the seas’ Valérie told me. The morning light was just peering in through the mill window onto a shiny patch on one of those floorboards, and for a moment I thought I could hear those waves. It seems so fitting that Valérie’s studio is situated in one of the old mills in Halifax, on the banks of a river, the water from which would have been used to produce the materials the mill was making. And turning full circle, water is a part of Valérie’s process too.

Valérie commissioned me to make a film about her work, her inspirations, and her processes. Along with my camera for filming, I also took my analogue film camera to take a roll throughout our day together. And I wanted to share some of them here, along with the film, and some of Valérie’s words.

‘I love the mill because it has its own story to tell. In the building, you can see where it’s been pushed and pulled and twisted’.

Valérie’s process is very tactile. There’s movement, rhythm and repetition in the way she works with the materials. It’s very meditative to watch.

‘It is that rhythm, that repetition that seems to nudge me a little bit in this semi-meditative space, and I find that space quite freeing.’

‘I feel my work is effectively an expression of this sensory dialogue between me, the materials, and the process.’

In the film I made, these 3 and a bit minutes are a culmination of all those excited planning conversations after Valérie first wrote to me. This film feels like such a collaboration. That Valérie wanted it to include certain aspects of her studio life and process, but wanted me to tell it as a reaction to what I felt and saw watching her work. And you can see more of Valérie’s beautiful work at her website here.

A Meadow On Film

I don’t know if your family were the same when you were growing up, but mine liked routine and found comfort in familiar places especially when it came to holidays. We’d pack the car up and drive to Loch Awe in Scotland. We’d stay in the same house, we’d meet family in the same service station for lunch (the delights of Tebay). I’ve battled many of the other routines that my parents surrounded themselves with, but I’ve realised there is one that is part of our year. An annual trip to Wild Meadow!

We first took a trip down there in 2016 for Suzi’s birthday. We’ve been back every year since, sometimes a couple of times. There’s such a pull to the place. A beautiful eco house, located in the middle of a meadow, with an orchard, kitchen garden, pond, and the best swing you ever have seen! We’ve celebrated birthdays, and had hazy days in the golden light with the sun prickling our skin. It seems strange to think we started visiting before Olive was here, but now she’s been twice, and meadow life certainly seems to suit her. The tall grass was taller than her as she walked down the paths with my Mum and Dad, learning all about the flora and fauna, taking it all in. She is now obsessed by birds of prey, as the buzzards are a very frequent sight circling high above the meadow.

As the season is turning the page, I want to hold onto these days a little while longer, and to put these photos together in as blog, to share with you, but to show Olive too. Although I took my digital camera with me, it didn’t come out of the bag, and I just took photos on my 35mm Olympus OM1 and my medium format Mamiya 645. These photos are a mixture from the two cameras.

There’s something about film that just suspends these moments more significantly, the warmth and the colours sing.

It’s always SO hard to leave. But I’m happy to say that we’ll be back there again next May. A home from home.