Dream Hunter – The Genesis

Nicolas informed me that he was making a book for his work some time ago and I know he has a varied portfolio and exacting standards, I was interested in his approach. He agreed to send me some information about his choices which you can find below - Tim

The idea was to present all my photographic work from 2014 to 2022. However, as I'm interested in a lot of very different subjects and I didn't want to restrict myself to one theme, I asked myself, ‘What links all my photographic work’?

I put all my images on the same screen and simply looked at them together. Without necessarily paying particular attention, I noticed similarities and links in the images. This could be the case for a similar subject but also for images that, at first glance, have nothing to do with each other.

Which, in a way, makes sense because I just photographed what I liked, letting my imagination run wild. I did this unconsciously, without thinking in terms of a series. Looking for the same hues, lights and textures, whatever the subject matter over the years. When I think of it, I even think that working in a series can drag a photographer's work down.

The process of printing my book has been a profound learning experience. From selecting the right printer and paper to deciding on the number of copies, I discovered a wealth of information over the past few months. Here’s a summary of my journey.

Arch Of Dream

Choosing the Printer

To closely oversee the printing process and be present during the critical makeready stage, I opted for a printer near my home—a fortunate decision, as I’ll explain later.

Deciding on the Book Format

I selected a 30x30 cm format for the book, as it strikes an excellent balance. This size accommodates both panoramic and vertical photos—the formats I use most frequently. When considering your book’s format, it’s essential to match it to the types of visuals you typically create.

Selecting the Paper

Initially, I leaned towards using art paper for the book. However, after researching binding methods and reviewing other art books, particularly in landscape photography, I realized that coated paper was a better option. Not only is it more cost-effective, but it’s also more flexible—an essential feature for landscape photographers. Flexible paper allows the book to open flat, making it ideal for showcasing panoramas. For this reason, some photographers even prefer Swiss-style binding.

Autumn Vibes Deep In The Myst

Funding and Promotion

Instead of launching a crowdfunding campaign, I decided to finance the project entirely on my own. While it’s too soon to determine whether this was the optimal choice, I had specific reasons for this decision.

  • Lower Costs: By taking out a loan from my bank at an interest rate of 5–6%, I avoided the higher fees of around 8% charged by crowdfunding platforms.
  • Accessibility: Many potential supporters might find creating an account on a crowdfunding platform cumbersome, which could deter participation.
  • Direct Engagement: Selling the book directly through my website not only promotes my work but also introduces people to my services, potentially generating additional revenue.
  • Navigating Challenges
    During the printing process, I faced a significant setback that proved both stressful and expensive. I’d like to share this experience as a cautionary tale.

During the printing process, I faced a significant setback that proved both stressful and expensive. I’d like to share this experience as a cautionary tale

Color Full Hill

Before scheduling, the printer provided a preview of the book after converting the mock-up and photos into CMYK format. This conversion step is critical as it ensures the final rendering is accurate. I was particularly concerned about the aurora borealis photos, which showed some unusual aberrations. My graphic designer assured me this was normal, as CMYK renderings are inherently less vibrant than RGB. Trusting her expertise, I proceeded with the makeready.

Unfortunately, my fears were confirmed during the print run—the aurora photos looked dreadful at the end of the line. Production had to be halted. After discussions with the management, my graphic designer, and the technicians, we decided to redo the process the following day

Unfortunately, my fears were confirmed during the print run—the aurora photos looked dreadful at the end of the line. Production had to be halted. After discussions with the management, my graphic designer, and the technicians, we decided to redo the process the following day. That evening, I re-edited all the aurora photos, applying less processing to them. The next day’s conversion yielded significantly improved results with no aberrations.

Technicians explained that the aurora’s colors—green, red, and purple—pushed the technical limits of what offset printing could reproduce. Additionally, neither my graphic designer nor the printers flagged the issue earlier because they had never seen an aurora borealis in real life; even with aberrations, the photos seemed “normal” to them.

And The Light Goes On

Lessons Learned

If you have doubts about a CMYK conversion, always request test prints on an inkjet printer to verify the rendering. This precaution can save you significant time and money. In my case, between the costs of proofing and reprinting the faulty books, this error set me back nearly €2,800.

By sharing my journey, I hope to provide insights and help others avoid the pitfalls I encountered. The printing process is as much about meticulous preparation as it is about creativity and vision.


The book is called “‘Dream Hunter - The Genesis” what does this mean, and how did you choose the images for the book based on this title?

It evokes two things at once. The path I chose to take nearly 10 years ago. For years, I wandered from job to job, unable to find my place. And it was during a trip to Australia in 2012 that I discovered what I was made for! Since then, I've been creating a ‘tailor-made’ path for myself, which is also a reference to my first plane ticket, which said ‘Check My trip’.

The genesis, as I describe my beginnings in photography and how I got into it. The images are taken from all my photography work from 2014 to winter 2022. The images were chosen firstly for their quality and the accomplished aspect that they represent for me, and then by working on the principle of associations.

The path I chose to take nearly 10 years ago. For years, I wandered from job to job, unable to find my place. And it was during a trip to Australia in 2012 that I discovered what I was made for!

Layers Of Time

From the book spreads we’ve seen, you’ve spent some time sequencing photographs so they complement each other. Did you have to include pictures you wouldn’t have otherwise to allow this, and did you exclude any images you loved because of this

That's a very good question! With very few exceptions, I wanted to include all the photos here. On the other hand, there are some strong images in my portfolio that I've never managed to combine. I call these ‘orphan’ images. This may be due to the uniqueness of the subject, the colour, the shapes, the light - to my mind, they're well done, but in my attempt to associate them, they haven't found a ‘parent’ image.

Was there any sequencing of images across the length of the book, i.e. seasons, dark to light, details to sublime, etc?

In addition to the image association approach, my graphic designer and I also wanted to punctuate the reading of the book to avoid a certain monotony. That's why, every four double pages, the reader will intermittently discover either a panoramic photo or an image with the story behind it.

Success with a book always involves an audience. Have you spent time building this up already and hope to sell it to this audience, or are you hoping to use the book as a way to expand it?

Yes, even if it wasn't initially my idea, building a community is essential! How else would you sell an art product to people who don't know you? It's a lot more difficult. I also took advantage of the client database of my photo travel agency ‘Renardo & Puffinou’, who were the first people to take an interest.

Usually, photographers choose to go through a fund-raising campaign before the book is released. This means they don't have to advance any money, and they can pre-sell a number of copies of the book, thus securing the project.

Is there anything you would have chosen to do differently? What are you key learnings in the process (excluding those mentioned above).

Yes, just one! Usually, photographers choose to go through a fund-raising campaign before the book is released. This means they don't have to advance any money, and they can pre-sell a number of copies of the book, thus securing the project.

In my case, I chose to finance myself and sell directly via my website www.checkmydream.fr. The gamble was that by doing this, visitors to my site who ordered the book would also discover all my photography work and my other services/products. So I was expecting some direct spin-offs, and judging by the initial figures, it hasn't had any effect for the moment.

Secondly, unlike a fundraising campaign where the photographer's community ‘participates’ directly by supporting the project, my approach has bypassed that stage. As a result, there's inevitably less commitment. The other aspect is that unlike a fund-raising campaign, which is spread over several weeks, my book is available immediately, so I don't have the same scope to promote it.

End frame: Nuevo Laredo, Mexico 1996, by Alex Webb

“It looks like a painting,” said my youngest, the instant I showed her this photograph by Alex Webb, having chosen it to discuss as my favourite image.

I asked her why she thought this, and she replied that it was the way the people were arranged in the photograph.

My wife chipped in and suggested it looked staged. It isn’t, but I can see why she would think that. The theatrical light illuminating the amorous couple on the right and the man and child in the background silhouetted against the bright, pastel wall of the registry office. It’s also the almost perfect placing of all the players across the canvas.

Alex Webb has been capturing the world in vibrant colour for over 40 years, since a trip to Haiti in 1979 transformed his practice; leaving behind the monochrome of many street photographers before him. In central America he discovered a world of cultural crossroads, vibrant colour and febrile politics. Magnum Photos took note and he became a full member that same year.

4×4 Landscape Portfolios

Welcome to our 4x4 feature, which is a set of four mini landscape photography portfolios which has been submitted for publishing. Each portfolio consists of four images related in some way. Whether that's location, a project, a theme or a story. Added:

Submit Your 4x4 Portfolio

Interested in submitting your work? We are always keen to get submissions, so please do get in touch!

Do you have a project or article idea that you'd like to get published? Then drop us a line. We are always looking for articles.


David McCulloch

Pendle Hill (mood and seasons)

David Mcculloch 4x4


Above 4000 meter in Ladakh

Henk Goossens

Henk Goossens 4x4


Empty Spaces full of life

Terry Wier

Terry Wier 4x4


Songs of the Sea

Valentina Parente

Valentina Parente 4x4

Songs of the Sea

Valentina Parente 4x4

Everyone has a special place where the soul feels at home and you just breath the energy of that special place being at peace. For me that place is the sea.

This project wants to be an homage at the poetic beauty of the sea and how my eyes see it and feel it. The photos are all took with the ICM technique because I think it represents perfectly the perennial movement of the waves and the fickle nature of its heart.

Img 8273

Img 8269

Img 7806

Dsc 7660

Empty Spaces full of life

Terry Wier 4x4

I was born in a desert region of the USA called the Permian Basin. Mostly desert, sand dunes and lots of oil wells. Most people thought of it as a place you had to be to make money, not a place to be because you wanted to be there.

I always felt at peace about the open spaces. First where I grew up, then others like it in New Mexico, Arizona and Utah. Even as I travelled for work and moved to NYC, I always felt a pullback to the open spaces.

Never thought about it much as my business grew and travel took a strong hold on my life. Always somewhere new to go and a new project to complete lifestyle pushed the things I loved to the back of my mind and off of the calendar.

Yet even when I traveled I seemed to find places that were open and felt the urge to explore and photograph them. First the sand dunes of Death Valley, California, then the mysterious slot canyons of Arizona. The images just piled up in my darkroom over the years.

Then, when the time in NYC was over, and we moved back to Texas, I was once again pulled to the open spaces.

First, I realized that the only time I wanted to be out was the first light of morning or the last light of evening. I would hike out five to ten miles before sunrise then turn around and photograph all the way back to the truck.

Next, I started working mainly in the deepest winter for many reasons. First, the light was low, crisp and clear all day long. Second, there were no snakes, bugs or people around. Now, I work mainly in the second half of January and the first half of February. With the high temperature around freezing and the night well below, I had open spaces to myself.

I began to organize my images and thoughts about the process as I began to teach creative expression in photography now and then. This is what I came up with as a framework for my workflow.

  1. Light
    1. Angle of light
    2. Quality of light
    3. Intensity of light
  2. Shape and form
    1. Does the form (rock formation/landscape) have the weight to hold the image?
    2. Does the sky frame the image to keep it from floating?
    3. Is the form simple or complex?
    4. Does the form fit a rectangle or a square format?
    5. Does the form drawn me in or just interest me?
  3. The Image
    1. Once processed does the image keep calling me back to look at it?
    2. Can I live with it on my wall for years without getting tired of seeing it?
    3. How do people who see it react?
      1. Confused
      2. Bored
      3. Drawn in

I have one of my images printed very large in my office. When friends or family come to see us, I always take note of how they respond to it. For my family, who have seen it for years, some don’t even look at it, while others always pause and stare for a moment. I have one grandson who said, “ I don’t get it, it’s just a picture. Why do people pay so much for it?” He does not realize it, but he is drawn to it without understanding it at all.

The image is the “Alien”, a rock formation with an alien hiding within. The last exhibit there were several people looking at it for a long while. Finally one of the woman shouted, “I see him, he is looking at me.” She then bought the print. For a brief span of time, she could understand the language of my passion.

Another grandson wanted to go with me on a trip to the open spaces to see it for himself. The impact changed his view of many things. He is now carrying a camera and working on his own language.

So, the lesson learned for me is this: you will never reach everyone, move everyone or impress many. That is not the point of the urge to go and photograph. I do not expect people to understand my work, and I just hope to move them to respond from the heart.

Photography is a language by which we express the part of us that words cannot define. It is our language. It cannot be twisted like words, it is far more black or white in terms of response. It is not a business, even if we make money selling prints that is not the point. It is the language of our heart, shouting in a hurricane wind of words what those words cannot express.

We go and photograph because we must, not because we want to. It is the beautiful mystery of the expression of art.

Rockface

Ribbonrock

Almost

3kings

Above 4000 meter in Ladakh

Henk Goossens 4x4

Ladakh has a fascinating mountain landscape with sand dunes, salt and freshwater lakes and some rivers such as the Shyok and Indus. It is a diverse mix which makes for a beautiful high altitude landscape that is very beautiful. For many, it seems very dull and rugged and desolate, but there are flowers growing in the spring as well as shrubs and sometimes you come across hidden groups of trees. You do not realize at times that you are above 4000 to 5000m. The earth and rocks have diverse colors ranging from dark earthy, green, purple to soft yellowish. Some peaks are covered with snow year round. The snow line is generally higher than in, say, Europe.

 1240119 Bewerkt  1220001 Bewerkt  1210199 Bewerkt  1160080

Pendle Hill (mood and seasons)

David Mcculloch 4x4

Pendle Hill is a landmark steeped in legend, with the notorious witch trials of the 17th century painting the darker side of its history. Pendle is set in the glorious Lancashire countryside, with the industrial history of Burnley on one side; and Clitheroe, leading towards the Ribble Valley, on the other.

We moved back into the Pendle area over five years ago, and this small portfolio captures the changing moods of the dominant hill. The portfolio is created around Barley, a small Lancashire village with an interesting micro climate – varying between mist, wind, rain, snow and sun.

Despite its dark history of the Pendle witches, the hill offers a majestic presence, dominating the surrounding lush landscape that is popular for leisure and exercise. A great place to visit and to enjoy the outdoors. The variable conditions around Pendle make it a place that the photographer must revisit: the surrounding reservoirs add foreground interest, so wind levels play on the water to add even more variation to the mix of weather conditions, testing the artistic interpretation of mood and atmosphere that we strive to convey.

1 Residual Snow 2 Hazy Pendle Reflections 3 Rainy Reflections 4 Pendle Summer

Eric Busch

95a6511

In this issue, our featured photographer is Eric Busch, who lives in Canada. Our conversation with Eric takes us from skateboarding in North America to South Korea and a fascination with traditional Chinese painting and poetry. The latter has fed into Eric’s photography: minimalism, mystery, and absence, and continues to influence him.

Would you like to start by telling readers a little about yourself – where you grew up, what your early interests were, and what you went on to do?

I grew up in St. Louis, Missouri, where I spent my time skateboarding, racing mountain bikes, backpacking, fishing and practising photography. After completing a degree in marketing, I knew that career path wasn’t for me, so I moved to South Korea to teach English. I spent the better part of the 2000s teaching, photographing and rock climbing there. It was there that I met my Canadian wife. It was also where I taught myself web design and programming. Shortly after moving back to Canada, I started a software business with my Belgian business partner. We ran that business for 14 years and sold it in 2022. I’m currently head of product and strategy at the software company which purchased our business.

You’ve a photo that shows your first camera and lenses on your website; it looks well used. What sparked your interest in photography, and where did you take your kit in those early years?

Skateboarding first sparked my interest in photography. By the time I hit my teens, I had traded my baseball glove for a skateboard and spent much of the late 80s building ramps and skating. My bedroom walls were covered with photos ripped from skate magazines… super wide-angle shots where the photographer was inches away from getting a slab of wood stuck into their lens (or worse).

Those images inspired me to learn how to use my dad’s 35mm camera, twist on his fisheye lens and lie underneath the skate ramp to shoot my friends as they launched themselves over me. The images were so much fun to make, print and share.

95a4470

At some point in high school, I received my own 35mm camera as a gift (the one pictured on my website) and a couple of lenses. I loved it! I primarily shot colour slide film such as FujiChrome Velvia 50 or Kodachrome 64.

I took that camera everywhere: state parks in Missouri, mountain bike races, backpacking in the US Southwest, hitchhiking from Canada to Mexico, travelling throughout Asia and exploring the rural and urban areas of Korea.

I even scanned old slides and negatives from decades prior and edited those images in Lightroom to finally create the images I had seen in my mind when I snapped the shutter so many years before.

But photography lost its appeal to me when I added a D to my SLR. No longer did my images have that magic look which film provided. Instead, the images were dull and lifeless. I didn’t know how to post-process and didn’t try to learn. If adding more contrast and saturation in Photoshop didn’t “fix” the image, I discarded it. Over the next few years, I shot less and less.

Fast forward to 2021, one of my relatives mentioned they knew an amateur photographer. I thought to myself ‘Why am I not an amateur photographer?’ (whatever that means). Since I already owned a DSLR, knew the exposure triangle and had a day job, I wasn’t too far away from being an amateur photographer. I spent the next few weeks watching hours of post-processing videos.

Once I was able to process an image to match the vision I had while shooting, editing became an extension of the creative process, not an afterthought or chore. Editing reignited my love of photography in a way I did not expect!

I even scanned old slides and negatives from decades prior and edited those images in Lightroom to finally create the images I had seen in my mind when I snapped the shutter so many years before.

95a6539

The Perfect Failure

Sometimes, you have to dare to dream big to really achieve something! As a photographer, I occasionally find it nice and challenging to dream about innovative, impossible photos and then seriously consider whether it might be possible to actually realize the image. The biggest obstacles are often in your own head, aren't they?

001

On the road to Landmannalaugar, the first part of the trip went smoothly

For years, I had been dreaming about a very special Northern Lights photo. This miraculous natural phenomenon gives me goosebumps every time I see it, as fortunately, it happens quite frequently during the Iceland trips that I make in fall or winter. But from a photographic point of view, the Northern lights are usually a source of frustration for me because I don't manage to translate my feelings of euphoria and admiration into an attractive photo in my own style.

For years, I had been dreaming about a very special Northern Lights photo. This miraculous natural phenomenon gives me goosebumps every time I see it, as fortunately, it happens quite frequently during the Iceland trips that I make in fall or winter.
Of course, I have a number of images that show the aurora well, sometimes in combination with the spectacular landscape of Iceland. But for me they remain just registration photos in which I have not been able to put something personal or any photographic vision in. And that is what I often strive for in my photography, I like to make personal work and every now and then I hope to be innovative as well.

And then a few years ago there was suddenly that – if I may say so – brilliant idea! Since my project The Journey of the autumn leaves I was the proud owner of underwater gear for my photography and I had a number of ideas for new underwater projects. One day, I realized that the green strings of algae in the geothermal wells at Landmannalaugar in the heart of Iceland looked quite similar to the green streaks of northern lights in the night sky … And how cool would it be to be able to connect those two elements together in one photo: underwater the dancing strings of algae in a crystal clear pool and above water the snowy landscape of the Landmannalaugar valley with the dancing northern lights on top of it! Two bizarre and completely different worlds, visually connected by wonderful green lines and shapes.

002

So close but still far away, one of the moments, we got stuck and had to clear the car to get us going again

Once I had this image in my head, it wouldn't let go. I knew it wouldn't be easy. But somewhere deep inside, I felt that it was possible to realize the image with a lot of patience, persistence, and luck. So I decided to go for it!

One of the biggest challenges was getting into the area at all. In summer, Landmannalaugar can even be reached by a normal car, although I wouldn’t try this with my own car. But in the long winter – normally lasting from October till May – the interior is completely covered by a thick layer of snow, and it is completely inaccessible.

But with some research, I found out that there were some Icelandic adventure travel agencies that could drop you off at the Landmannalaugar cabin with a so-called super jeep. They have the driving skills, the permits and the cars that are needed for such a trip. It costs a small fortune, but of course, I would earn it all back later if my dream photo was published worldwide. The cabin is closed and unguarded in winter, but you can get the key and use it for a small fee per day. It didn't take much effort to persuade my good friend Michel Lucas to come with me, which would not only make the trip a lot safer but also much more enjoyable.

But with some research, I found out that there were some Icelandic adventure travel agencies that could drop you off at the Landmannalaugar cabin with a so-called super jeep. They have the driving skills, the permits and the cars that are needed for such a trip.

003

Stranded around midnight, the rest of the journey, we had to walk

004

The moonlit landscape. The only partly clear skies we encountered on our trip

And so we left in mid-January in our super jeep with our driver Barni, with food for a week and a ton of photo equipment (for me supplemented with my bulky underwater equipment needed for the shot). We took about ten charged batteries per person because there was no electricity in the hut. I am not sure why we didn’t take a power bank; that would have been much easier (also for our phones). The days were very short; the sun rose around 11 am and set again around 3:30 pm. Ideal for long nights with dancing aurora!

The journey – which should take about four hours from Reykjavik – went very smoothly as long as we were still driving on the main roads. But as soon as we got on the F-road to Landmannalaugar, we got stuck continuously in large piles of snow.

Landscape and all that Jazz

Art is how we decorate space; Music is how we decorate time.~ Jean Michel Basquiat

I was recently at a jazz concert by the piano trio PrismE from Geneva who played a piece called Bokeh (which required an explanation of what was meant by bokeh from the bassist Stéphane Fisch1). This made me wonder about the links that might be found between photography and jazz. There are, of course, many celebrated photographs of jazz musicians, taken by many celebrated jazz photographers such as W Eugene Smith, Gjon Mili, William Gottlieb, Herman Leonard, Chuck Stewart, Lee Tanner, Roy DeCarava, and Michael Howard. Many of those photographs were taken during rehearsals and concerts but one of the most famous is that taken by Art Kane and titled “A great day in Harlem”, featuring 57 different jazz musicians from Art Blakey to Count Basie (as well as a fine collection of children).

A Great Day In Harlem

Art Kane, A great day in Harlem2

Searching for more information about photography and jazz, there is some about artists who have been influenced by jazz, particularly in the early to mid-20th century, such as Otto Dix, Piet Mondrian, Romare Beardon, Stuart Davis, and Jackson Pollock, but very little to be found about photographers influenced in their style by jazz, or jazz compositions influenced by photographs. There have certainly been jazz musicians (as well as more classical composers) influenced by nature, including an interesting double album by the Azerbaijani saxophonist Rain Sutanov with the title Influenced by Nature (I was prompted to find a copy). Back in the 1950s the multi-instrumentalist Yosuf Lateff had a track titled Jazz and the Sounds of Nature (rather freeform in nature and seemingly mostly inspired by birdsong).

So nature and landscape have, to some extent, influenced jazz, but what is missing here is any apparent influence of jazz on landscape photography. That seems a little strange since surely ALL landscape photographers love some type of jazz
The Jan Garbarek album Dis includes sounds from a wind harp, and he has many other tracks with names reflecting nature. PrismE also talked of being influenced by nature, and the titles of their tracks include, for example, Ammonite, Baleines and Cirrus. There must be many others. There are also a surprising number of YouTube videos of “ambient” jazz linked to calming landscape images, sometimes complete with background sounds of waves lapping onto a beach3.

So nature and landscape have, to some extent, influenced jazz, but what is missing here is any apparent influence of jazz on landscape photography. That seems a little strange since surely ALL landscape photographers love some type of jazz4? Many photographers are also musicians, perhaps most famously, Ansel Adams again and his early ambition to be a concert pianist. But that is in the classical tradition and it is perhaps easier to see some analogy between classical music of the romantic period and classical landscape photography. In fact, the only reference to jazz musicians being influenced by photographs that I have been able to find is the Dave Brubeck 2009 orchestral work, composed with his son Chris, and called: “Ansel Adams: America” (but it has to be said that the piece is indeed much more classical in style and does not seem to show much jazz influence)5.

Jazz is commonly defined as an improvisational musical form, characterised by complex syncopated rhythms, deliberate deviations of pitch and timbre, dissonances and polyphonic ensemble playing. It is certainly possible therefore to draw analogies with photography. The jazz photographer Nick Clayton has written in an article about Photography and Music,

I tend to photograph like a jazz musician. I don’t control a scene or situation, I adapt to it and search for themes in the apparent chaos of it all. I would define mastery of both music and photography as the ability to find meaning where others may not, and reveal it to an audience. That’s the goal anyway.5

That could equally be applied to revealing things in the landscape too. Others have referred to the idea of both music and photography containing rhythm, both containing light and dark, or positive and negative, and to the “subject” being the focus of either piece or image. There is also the analogy between playing notes “in the pocket” and the “decisive moment”, and between the choices made in the notes to start and end a piece with the framing of an image. A comment following that same article also noted:

It’s interesting how so many words can be applied to both music and photography…..Composition, Tone, Balance, Timing, Culture, Harmony, Subject, Narrative, Dedication, Artistry, Technical, Analogue, Digital, Retro, Avant-garde, Experimental, Expressive, Transcendent, Contrast, Vibrant, Sombre, Darkness, Lightness…6

While a Tim Parkin article from 2011 suggested:

“Can I create a more pleasing final result through the inclusion of dissonance than in the straightforward application of beauty?”. To me, I would say yes - it’s the dissonances in a picture that keep your eye moving around, the inclusion of ‘tensions’ that keep a viewer looking. (This could be taken to another step when putting together a series of photographs such as in an exhibition or book). 7

But when it comes down to jazz performance:

We just have to live with these labels... I mean, what we're doing, if you have to call it something... I guess it's jazz, but it's not what jazz was……It's nothing we're fighting for, though. It's just what we play—and we play how we feel. ~ Esbjörn Svensson, 20048

So there are analogies (admittedly rather simplistic), including trying to take images to reflect how we feel at the time, but there is the very obvious difference that music exists over an extended period of time (from the tens of seconds of the “Eight pieces for piano” of György Kurtág to the 639 year composition of John Cage called “As slow as possible”) with only limited extent in space, while photography is a static representation of space that refers to a particular choice of moment in time.

We can make longer exposures, of course, but they will always integrate through time, not differentiate, and so have the effect of blurring any motion. Those improvisations, syncopated rhythms and deliberate deviations that define jazz would, therefore, need to be drawn in space rather than in time.
We can make longer exposures, of course, but they will always integrate through time, not differentiate, and so have the effect of blurring any motion. Those improvisations, syncopated rhythms and deliberate deviations that define jazz would, therefore, need to be drawn in space rather than in time.

That is certainly possible – improvisations are necessary for intentional camera movements or double exposure techniques, for example. There are also successful landscape photographs that can show interacting rhythms or dissonances (there are many examples in images of trees or waves for example). And most of us will sometimes make use of extreme wide angle or telephoto lenses to produce creative deviations in ways that the eye would not normally see. In emotional terms too, we might see in a minimalist image the equivalent of the jazz influenced pieces of Erik Satie (which have been reworked by many jazz musicians since) or the quieter pieces of Miles Davies from the period of Kind of Blue or In a Silent Way. Another example that you might already be aware of would be the minimalist images chosen as the artwork for many of the jazz albums issued by the ECM label10 by Manfred Eicher working with the designers Barbara Wojirsch and Dieter Rehm11.

Cover 4151011122017 R

Jan Garbarek, Dis album cover photo by Franco Fontana, ECM

Peter Esrkine, You Never Know, Album Cover Photo By Gabor Attalai, Ecm


Peter Esrkine, You never know, album cover photo by Gabor Attalai, ECM

Perhaps more interesting, however, might be to explore any landscape images that could be more equivalent to the Miles Davis double album of Bitches’ Brew from 1970. There is a certain difficulty there, of course, in that Miles Davis and his musicians start with a blank sheet. The intense creativity of those albums is developed in rehearsal over time (even if many jazz tracks are recorded as one improvised take).

Our experience might help us to be in the right place with the right equipment at the right time, but to be jazz-like in our images we are limited to choosing the right sorts of subjects.
It also depends on the interactions between a group of musicians with their own individual skills and histories (Miles Davis was notoriously demanding in his choice of and demands on his collaborators).

As photographers we largely work alone and depend on what nature puts before us in terms of subject and light. We may also have our individual skills and histories, but our creative control over nature is limited to framing and exposure and waiting for the right moment. Our experience might help us to be in the right place with the right equipment at the right time, but to be jazz-like in our images we are limited to choosing the right sorts of subjects.

And musical rhythm is not so different from visual rhythm. A progression of notes over a period of time is a fraternal twin to the layering of shapes, light, and dark that form a photographic image. The most successful photographs are almost always those that have a rhythm, giving the viewer’s eye a coherent path. Music is a play between ‘positive’ and ‘negative’ objects—notes and the silence between. I believe it was Debussy who said that “Music is the space between the notes”; and negative space plays an equally important role in composing (aha) a photograph ~ Leah Damgaard-Hansen12

Guy Tal, in the On Landscape article that refers most to Jazz also suggests that there is more to the process when it comes to producing a print. He refers to the Ansel Adams quotation (rather remarkably from an interview in Playboy magazine) which in full reads:

Yes, in the sense that the negative is like the composer’s score. Then, using that musical analogy, the print is the performance. ~ Ansel Adams, 1983

But then Guy comments:

I know myself to be a “jazz photographer”—a real-time improviser, not a disciplined performer of pre-written scores (not even ones I wrote myself in other times). When I set to make a print for myself or for an exhibition (i.e., not a print purchased by a customer expecting it to match the appearance of a digital version or of a previous “performance”), I consider it as an opportunity to make a new creation—new “visual music,” not necessarily aiming to re-perform my original visualization by some singular, fixed, “right” interpretation. Each “performance” is for me a chance to make something new and original. ~ Guy Tal, 202213

He also contrasts that with the many photographers who, rather than producing a new performance, are happy to only repeat the images they have seen produced by the original artist.

When it comes to such separation of roles between composer and performer, photography lags considerably behind music. Most photographers and viewers of photography make no distinction between composer and performer, assuming implicitly that they are always the same person, despite this often not being the case. In landscape photography, especially, the case is almost always the opposite: few original composers make meaningful, novel creations, which are then performed repeatedly by many others (who usually have no qualms about claiming the entire production—composition, performance, and all, as their own). ~ Guy Tal, 2022

My own preferred subject for photographic performance, as has been seen in many of my previous articles in On Landscape, is water14. Water can be musical in the sense of having rapidly changing dynamic rhythms and sounds over time. It inspires many landscape photographers both in its forms (of waterfalls, rapids, waves and gyres) and its interaction with light (in reflections, caustics, landpools and skypools)15.

But, particularly in the latter case, there can be some jazzy elements of complex rhythm, deviations of tone and colour, and dissonant interactions between parts of the subject.
But in taking images of water we always have the impossible challenge of capturing those dynamics in a still image. In doing so, we can frame the space, but we can only give an impression of the changes in time. In some cases that involves using a longer shutter speed to emphasise the forms, in other case we can capture a near-instantaneous moment and leave the dynamics to the imagination. But, particularly in the latter case, there can be some jazzy elements of complex rhythm, deviations of tone and colour, and dissonant interactions between parts of the subject. There is an advantage of the still image in this respect, in that we can take time to study the details recorded in some depth. As in other forms of still visual art, such images often reward such study before we move on, even if there is a tendency nowadays to look and move on too quickly, either by swiping online or in exhibitions.

Suncopating Caustics

Syncopating caustics, Lauterbrunnental, Switzerland, 2024

Leucocyte Dissonance

Leucocyte dissonance, Lauterbrunnental, Switzerland, 2023

Crystal Illusions

Crystal illusions, Durnand River, Val d’Arpette, Switzerland, 2024

Music is again somewhat different here. Even when only sampling online fragments of 30 seconds, it takes time. Listening to whole pieces and albums requires a greater commitment of time. Indeed, it sometimes requires repeated listenings to appreciate a piece, particularly for more difficult pieces (some of Charlie Parker, or the younger Sonny Rollins, or the string quartets of Bartok come to mind).

Music is again somewhat different here. Even when only sampling online fragments of 30 seconds, it takes time. Listening to whole pieces and albums requires a greater commitment of time.
They are, we could say, an acquired taste, even more so for those of us without a solid education in musical theory who must resort to “knowing what we like”. So there needs to be something on first listening to bring us back. That is perhaps not so different to the first time we see an image presented by a photographer – there has to be something there to make us want to see more even if, with most landscape photographers at least, we might not have to work so hard to acquire the taste. We like, or don’t like (swipe), almost immediately, particularly when faced by thousands of images as competition judges.

But we should not perhaps push this analogy too far. Creating good jazz is really difficult, requiring both a high degree of talent and long hours of practice and experience in making choices in working with other musicians. Creating a good image also requires some combination of talent, practice and experience in the choices we make, but I am not sure we can claim to reach the same level of difficulty. We frame and we click. We bring our experience and emotions to bear in doing so, and we may have to make an effort (or get up early) to be in the right place at the right time, but in the end we frame and we click. That is our act of creation. If you can see a jazz riff in the results, then perhaps the best that we can hope for might be a quiet smile of recognition (or else just a swipe on to the next one …..).

In A Mellow Tone

In a mellow tone, Hauterive, Switzerland, 2023

High Top Notes

High Top Notes, Hautrive, Switzerland, 2024

Change Of Key

Change of key, Hauterive, Switzerland, 2023

5:4 With Harmonics

5/4 with harmonics, Lauterbrunnental, Switzerland, 2023

Play Misty For Me

Play Misty for Me, Hauterive, Switzerland, 2023

So What?

So what (natural dissonance), La Sonnaz, Switzerland, 2023

Take 5

Take 5 (reflections and skypools), La Glâne, Switzerland, 2024

Competing Rythms

Competing Rhythms, Hauterive, Switzerland, 2023

Chromatic Scales

Chromatic scales, Lauterbrunnen, Switzerland, 2023

Blue Notes

Blue Notes, Tessin, Switzerland, 2024

Coda (natural Rythms)

Coda (Natural Rhythms), Hauterive, Switzerland, 2024

References

  1. You might remember my own definition from the Devil’s Dictionary: Bokeh [n]: A result of using expensive lenses wide open to distract from an uninteresting main subject in an image. See https://www.onlandscape.co.uk/2021/03/devils-dictionary-photography/
  2. Just search on “jazz and nature” on YouTube and then go relax!
  3. Ok, so some Free Jazz sax solos from the 1960s are really rather difficult to love!
  4. See https://www.anseladamsamerica.com/about-the-work (with extracts) and https://www.npr.org/2009/04/02/102656153/dave-brubeck-composing-ansel-adams
  5. See https://casualphotophile.com/2021/04/05/music-and-photography/
  6. A comment by David W. on the article by Nick Clayton in 5. The article also has some other thoughtful comments.
  7. Tim started to explore the links between musicians and photographers in his 2011 article https://www.onlandscape.co.uk/2011/05/photography-and-music/
  8. From an interview with All About Jazz in 2004, https://www.allaboutjazz.com/esbjorn-svensson-what-jazz-is-not-was-esbjorn-svensson-by-joshua-weiner
  9. See, for example, the On Landscape article by Cheryl Hamer and Glenya Garnett at https://www.onlandscape.co.uk/2019/04/multiple-exposure-layers-textures/
  10. These have their own Flickr site at https://www.flickr.com/groups/ecmrecordcoverphotographs/
  11. See https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Barbara_Wojirsch and https://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dieter_Rehm_(Fotokünstler) (in German). A book of their album covers called “Sleeves of Desire” was published by Lars Müller in 1996 (ISBN: 978-1568980645 but now out of print)
  12. Again from https://casualphotophile.com/2021/04/05/music-and-photography/
  13. See https://www.onlandscape.co.uk/2022/05/classical-photographers-jazz-photographers/
  14. As in the two books The Still Dynamic and Panta Rhei. The first is still available in PDF format; just a few hard copies are left of the second – see https://www.mallerstangmagic.co.uk/?post_type=product. All the images shown in this article were taken after the books were produced.
  15. See, for example, https://www.onlandscape.co.uk/2017/04/the-science-and-art-of-hydrology/ https://www.onlandscape.co.uk/2019/01/physics-of-caustic-light-in-water/ and more recently https://www.onlandscape.co.uk/2023/11/a-little-piece-of-eden/

The Lech

Morgendämmerung Am Tiroler Lech.

The wild, pristine river in the Tyrolean Lech Valley between Weißenbach and Forchach shows its wild side. It clears the gravel banks exactly as it needs them, piles up dead wood on dry gravel banks and shapes strips of riverbank as it sees fit. Here at the Johannesbrücke bridge, the alpine wild river has been given space to develop freely again, as it did in earlier times. This also has an effect on the habitat along the banks.

"Iller, Lech, Isar, Inn flow to the right towards the Danube." Not only a tried and tested mnemonic, it also tells us the origin of the rivers just quoted. With the exception of the Inn, the first three have their source in the Northern Limestone Alps, between Lake Constance and Lake Königssee.

The special feature of the Lech can be quickly recognized here: Firstly, it has its source much closer to the main Alpine ridge than the Iller and Isar. And unlike the Isar, it flows almost vertically to the north, towards the Franconian Jura, while the Isar drifts eastwards towards the Bavarian Forest.

The special feature of the Lech can be quickly recognized here: Firstly, it has its source much closer to the main Alpine ridge than the Iller and Isar. And unlike the Isar, it flows almost vertically to the north, towards the Franconian Jura, while the Isar drifts eastwards towards the Bavarian Forest.
The Lech Valley was once a biotope bridge of European importance for flora and fauna, connecting the Mediterranean region with Central Europe.

Similar to the Iller, Isar and Inn valleys, the Lechtal also took on its present form during the last ice age, the Würm Ice Age (comparable to Devensian, approx. 115,000 - 10,000 years before our era). Characteristic features include the steeply rising hanging valleys from which the tributaries flow to the left and right of the river in the alpine 'Oberes Lechtal'. Moraine landscapes with their typical ground forms such as drumlins, dead ice holes or ridges characterize the 'Middle Lechtal'. There are also traces of former ice reservoirs that formed on the edge of the Alps at the end of the Ice Age, which can be seen today in the Füssen Bay. The 'Lower Lechtal', originally characterized by wide gravel plains and broad alluvial forests through which the river meandered on its way to the estuary delta. The appearance of the gravel meadows and alluvial forests never lasted long, the dynamics and creative power of the river were too great. The floods that occurred in spring and early summer at the latest, caused by melting snow and thunderstorms, reshaped the countless water arms that carved their way through the valley.

Unterwegs In Den Lechauen.

River kilometer 17 | A touch of wilderness can be found parallel to the Lech at the hamlet of Ötz (Thierhaupten) along the Vorderer Brunnenwasser (later Münsterer Alte). Here, at dawn, you can get an idea of how lively the floodplains near the river once were.

If you start a journey along the Lech these days, my tip would be to start at the mouth. In my opinion, this best symbolizes the state of the Lech today: from the present to its origins. You start with the state to which the Lech, like many other rivers, was transferred at the beginning of the 20th century and end in the sublime, majestic, Arcadian-looking backdrop of the Zuger Tal valley in the Lechquellengebirge mountains.

The journey takes you from the mouth at Marxheim below the Franconian Jura along the Bavarian Lech, which, constricted and canalized, is more like a dammed river than a flowing water from power station to power station. Occasionally, the river is accompanied by remaining floodplains. In its lower course, the river is also divided into two watercourses for around 20 km: the Lech Canal for consistent power generation and the original riverbed with a residual flow. With its wide gravel banks, between which the residual water meanders, this is reminiscent of the former gravel meadows of the original Lech.

The journey takes you from the mouth at Marxheim below the Franconian Jura along the Bavarian Lech, which, constricted and canalized, is more like a dammed river than a flowing water from power station to power station. Occasionally, the river is accompanied by remaining floodplains.

Verbliebene Wildflusslandschaft Am Lech Nördlich Von Augsburg

River kilometer 32 | A look at historical maps of the Kingdom of Bavaria north of Augsburg reveals extensive gravel plains with numerous branches of the original Lech. Today's gravel banks, between which the Lech sometimes meanders back and forth, are due to the Lech Canal built at the end of the 19th century. Today, the bulk of the river flows through it, with only a residual amount of water remaining in the actual Lech bed.

Augsburg, the largest city on the Lech, presents itself in the splendor of the UNESCO World Heritage “Augsburg Water Management System” with a proud 22 individual objects in the city area as well as in the surrounding area. Also worth mentioning is the Augsburg city forest (nature reserve, Forest of the Year 2024), which is Bavaria's largest remaining alluvial forest.

If you follow the watercourse further upstream, it is increasingly accompanied by steeply rising valley slopes near Landsberg am Lech. Here, various hiking trails invite you to take extended tours along the river.

Der Lech An Den Ehemaligen Hurlacher Wasserfällen.

River kilometer 74 | On the Lechfeld at the Hurlacher Heide (between barrages 18 and 19, or Kaufering and Schwabstadl), the Lech encounters rock walls of sintered limestone deposits along a west-facing slope, also known as the “Hurlacher Wasserfälle”. The limestone tuff, which is interspersed with plant and animal fossils, formed here between the Riss and Würm glacial periods. Covered by glacial bed load, erosion gradually brings the rocks formed in this way back to the surface.

Unterwegs Auf Dem Lech Erlebnisweg.

River kilometer 95 | The impact slope northeast of Mundraching shows in a very impressive way the forces that can act here when landslides occur between the upper cover gravels and the underlying layers of the Upper Freshwater Molasse (alpine debris consisting of gravel, sand or fine sediments).

At the height of Schongau, you leave the 'Untere Lechtal' and enter the moraine landscapes followed by the Füssener Bucht in the 'Mittlere Lechtal'. Above the Schongauer See (reservoir!) follows the Litzauer Schleife - a real gem. Here you come across a river landscape that once spread along many of the river bends in the Lechtal. To the left and right of the chain of dams that the Lech still forms here, you can discover traces of the Ice Age in the landscape. For example, the dead ice landscape in the hills around the baroque gem of the Pilgrimage Church of the Scourged Savior on the Wies” (east of Steingaden) or the Drumlinfeld near Prem.

At the height of Schongau, you leave the 'Untere Lechtal' and enter the moraine landscapes followed by the Füssener Bucht in the 'Mittlere Lechtal'. Above the Schongauer See (reservoir!) follows the Litzauer Schleife - a real gem.

Mrobertz Lech 05 Km 135 Litzauerschleife

River kilometer 135 | The Litzau loop with its meanders stretches between the wasteland of Dessau (on the left) and the hamlet of Kreut (on the right bank of the Lech) at the entrance to Lake Schongau. Along the Bavarian bank of the Lech, this is the closest you will come to discovering the formerly wild Alpine river in its original form.

Where Lake Füssen once stretched out is now home to Lake Forggensee, Germany's largest reservoir with a water surface area of around 15 km². This corresponds to around a quarter of the size of the former ice reservoir. Although silted up, the Bannwaldsee, Hopfensee, Schwansee and Weißensee lakes have survived the test of time. The view from the royal castles near Hohenschwangau offers a proverbial royal view of the Füssen bay and the old-established cultural landscape of the Künigswinkel. With the Lech Falls above Füssen, you now leave the Alpine foothills and the 'Middle Lech Valley'.

As you enter the Tyrolean Lech Valley, you enter the 'Upper Lech Valley', where the scenery and the landscape experience change fundamentally! From Füssen, the route follows the banks of the Lech for 125 km towards the source region. From now on, you will be accompanied to the left and right by rugged, steeply rising mountain peaks, at the foot of which the Lech flows towards you, interspersed with gravel banks. The view from the Johannesbrücke bridge between Weißenbach in Tirol and Forchach is always breathtakingly beautiful. The weather, as it is at the moment, can only enhance your perception of this landscape. Over the next few kilometers, countless side streams flow into the Lech from both sides, constantly feeding gravel and dead wood into the alpine Lech river.

Abenddämmerung Beim Füssener Lechfall.

River kilometer 167 | The Füssener Lech just above the Lech Falls: just an alpine wild river, shortly afterwards a corrected and enclosed chain of dams.

Am Hornbach Im Hornbachtal, Naturpark Tiroler Lechtal.

River kilometer 199 | At Vorderhornbach, after approx. 17 km, the Hornbach flows from the Allgäu Alps into the Tyrolean Lech. The wild alpine stream has its source in the mountain streams of the Hornbach chain.

On its way towards the Lech, it spreads out again and again, branching its watercourses into original gravel meadows. Like the previous side valleys with their watercourses, the Hornbach also supplies the alpine Lech with bed load and dead wood, which is needed for a variety of near-natural habitats.

Sommermorgen Im Angerleboden, Bschlabser Tal, Tirol.

River kilometer 203 | Coming from the village of Boden through the forest above the Angerlebach stream, the valley floor (Angerleboden) opens up after a climb. The view in the morning sun over this natural gem is like discovering a long-forgotten “earthly paradise”.

Shortly after Steeg, the valley narrows more and more until the Lech finally disappears into the narrow Lech Gorge. If you follow the pass road in the direction of Warth, the rushing river can only be seen or heard sporadically. Shortly before you reach Warth, a narrow mountain road on the right leads up to Lechleiten. The detour rewards you with an impressive view over the gorge in both summer and winter. Be it down to Tyrol or up towards Lech, the winter sports capital of the Vorarlberg jet set.

From the village of Lech, you now embark on the final stage, which immerses you in an unexpected landscape. The Zuger Lechtal valley, which leads up to the Formarinsee lake, seems to have sprung from another era. Certainly a mountain landscape steeped in culture that could not be more pristine. It is therefore not surprising that Lake Formarin was voted the most beautiful place in Austria in 2015. Below the Formainalpe, you finally reach the source of the Lechur after a good 256 kilometers. If you have the time and inclination, I recommend a detour up to the Steinernes Meer. At its foot, the water collects in small rivulets, which, following the force of gravity, brings the Lech on its way...

Auf Dem Lechweg Oberhalb Der Ortschaft Lech Am Arlberg.

River kilometer 251 | Picturesque and romantic, the young Lech forms its riverbed with unbridled power. Here, above the Spullerbach confluence, it elicits a longing, wistful Rocky Mountains feeling from the photographer.

Oberhalb Des Formarinsees Nahe Der Freiburger Hütte.

River kilometer 257 | At the end of the Zuger Tal valley, Lake Formarinsee is nestled in a basin below the striking Rote Wand. In 2015, the lake with the backdrop of the Rote Wand was voted the most beautiful place in Austria.

Unterwegs Am Vorarlberger Lech Im Lechquellengebirge Zwischen Formarinsee Und Der Ortschaft Lech.

On the way along the Vorarlberger Lech in the Lechquellen Mountains between Formarinsee and the village of Lech.

End frame: Alaskan Arctic Circle in spring, Caribou wandering in a herd by Michio Hoshino

One evening following dinner in the cook shack at the Alaska McNeil River State Game Sanctuary and Refuge, Michio Hoshino showed me a prepublication book of his photographs. As I leafed through the book, I came upon this photograph of a pregnant female caribou crossing the Arctic tundra in early spring. I don’t recall any of the other photographs in the book or if I even finished looking at the rest of the book. I do know that I immediately said that I would purchase a copy once it was published. He replied that the book would only be sold in Japan but promised to bring me a copy when it was available. Sadly, events intervened before that could happen.

That was about 30 years ago, and I have never forgotten this photograph.

In the intervening years, I’ve seen countless photographs. To be honest, other photographers such as Robert Glenn Ketchum, Shinzo Maeda, David Muench and Pat O’Hara have had a greater influence on my photography. And yet, this is the photograph that first came to mind when Charlotte asked me to write about my favourite landscape photograph. I was concerned that On Landscape readers might not view it as a landscape photograph. I asked her if it would be acceptable, and she agreed.

Juan Tapia

1

In this issue, we talk to Juan Tapia. His early fascination with photography was personal, rooted in childhood memories. In parallel with his career in agriculture, analogue workshops deepened his passion, and over time he gravitated away from grand landscapes to the subtle beauty of nearby environments. Influenced by art and music, his work embraces abstraction and symbolism, and he is continually seeking new ways to express and connect through visual storytelling.

Would you like to start by telling readers a little about yourself: where you grew up, what your early interests were and what you went on to do?

I was born in Roquetas de Mar, a coastal town in the province of Almería, southern Spain, in 1979. It is where I have lived all my life and where I currently reside. After completing high school, I decided to go into agriculture, working in my parents' greenhouses and growing vegetables. Like many young people, at the beginning I was not sure about my professional future; if I had known about photography earlier, I might have studied Fine Arts. In my spare time, I played various sports, as I was quite good at them. I was also passionate about fishing and puzzles. Eventually, I realised that the patience required for these activities would be an important virtue in my career in photography.

2

What prompted you to pick up an old camera in 2002 and register for a photography workshop? Had photography previously been important to you?

Photography was always important in my life, especially after the loss of my mother when I was only six years old. Many of these images became visual memories that helped me maintain a connection with her as if each photo captured fragments of her presence. My first photos were taken with an old Minolta film camera in the house; curiously, I photographed my own black and white photos from the family album, looking for new angles and details. It was like exploring a small intimate universe and discovering, in each frame, hidden stories and new meanings.[paid]

Thus, photography began to captivate me deeply, especially because of that mixture of uncertainty, magic and waiting that accompanies developing the film in the lab, as if each image came to life in the shadows. Shortly afterwards, I discovered that my local town council organised annual photography workshops. That brief immersion on my own awakened in me the desire to delve even deeper into this visual world, where the every day can become eternal.

Photography was always important in my life, especially after the loss of my mother when I was only six years old. Many of these images became visual memories that helped me maintain a connection with her as if each photo captured fragments of her presence.

4

‘Workshop’ doesn’t fully describe the duration and extent of your studies. What led you to continue, and how did your craft and subject matter evolve over the following years?

In those days, people still worked in analogue format. My first years of training were in workshops organised annually by the city council, which were held in parallel with other disciplines such as painting, sculpture, music and more. During this first stage, I acquired general knowledge, delving into the workings of photographic equipment and exploring historic processes, such as solarisation, cyanotype and pinhole photography, each with its own magic and artisanal character. It was then that I developed a diverse range of subject matter, although I eventually became the only student in the workshop to focus on capturing the essence of landscapes and wildlife. Perhaps my passion for nature, cultivated as a child in a Scout group, led me to gravitate towards this.

With the advent of the digital age, I thought that the workshop no longer had much to offer me and decided to leave it, convinced that my path had to take other directions. However, over time I realised that learning never stops and that there are always new details, techniques and perspectives capable of enriching my vision.

Since then, I continued to train in specialised weekend workshops with renowned nature photographers, and discovered in books and photographic talks a vast world full of inspiration. Today, after having taught many workshops with David Santiago and trained numerous students, I have returned as a student to the same workshop where I started, in search of new aesthetics and processes. My teacher is still there, at the helm, after twenty-two years, reminding me that in the art of photography, learning and unlearning is the key to assimilating new knowledge and applying it creatively.

8 5

Who (photographers, artists or individuals) or what has most inspired you, or driven you forward in your continued development as a photographer?

As a child, I was fascinated by the elegance with which words could evoke deep emotions, a fondness I inherited from my poetry-loving parents. This early connection to poetic language was a prelude to what, years later, would define my vision in photography. Over time, my artistic exploration evolved into visual poetry, a quest to capture the essence of a moment or scene as evocatively as a poem would.

The work of Isabel Díez, for example, taught me to fragment the landscape, a technique that allows me to discover more intimate and personal perspectives in each natural environment.

Throughout my photographic development, I have found inspiration from numerous photographers, but a few marked a turning point in my creative process. The work of Isabel Díez, for example, taught me to fragment the landscape, a technique that allows me to discover more intimate and personal perspectives in each natural environment. Similarly, Antonio Camoyán's series on the Rio Tinto opened up the world of abstraction for me, giving me a new language to express myself visually. On the other hand, the symbolism of Chema Madoz inspires me deeply. Although he does not work with themes from nature, his way of playing with everyday objects and giving them alternative meanings has taught me to see images as an invitation to reinterpret reality.

In painting, I find constant inspiration in the figure of Pablo Picasso. His tireless ability to reinvent himself, exploring diverse styles and taking risks at every stage of his career, is an example of boldness and authenticity. His work reminds me that artistic growth is a journey that never stops and that every change, however uncertain, can be the bridge to a more genuine and profound expression.

6

Tell us a little more about your local area and the places that you are drawn back to?

In the early years of my career as a nature photographer, I was attracted by the possibility of travelling to remote and imposing locations, seeking out expansive landscapes that, in themselves, provided visually stunning scenes. Over time, however, that idea began to fade, and I began to notice a certain dependence on scenery.

This reflection led me to an evolution in my photographic gaze, moving towards a deeper exploration of the details and symbolism present in landscapes, leaving aside the idea of the place as the absolute protagonist. Places became simply the backdrop for my compositions, freeing me from that sense of subordination.
This reflection led me to an evolution in my photographic gaze, moving towards a deeper exploration of the details and symbolism present in landscapes, leaving aside the idea of the place as the absolute protagonist. Places became simply the backdrop for my compositions, freeing me from that sense of subordination.

Over the years, I have come to greatly appreciate so-called ‘proximity photography’, which invites me to find beauty in nearby environments. In my case, the Tabernas desert and Cabo de Gata, two natural treasures barely an hour away from my home, have become recurring backdrops for my work. Likewise, the greenhouses, which form part of my everyday environment, have provided me with some of the most significant images of my professional career. These experiences have reaffirmed my belief that, while places are important, they are not essential.

Will you choose 2 or 3 favourite photographs from your own portfolio and tell us a little about why they are special to you, or your experience of making them?

Here are three images that have been fundamental in my photographic development. They may not be the best in my archive, but they clearly represent my personal search and artistic evolution. Each of them marks a moment of change, a significant turn in my career that redefined my understanding of photography. Through these photographs, I explored new visual languages and techniques that expanded my ability to express deep emotions and concepts. These images are ultimately milestones that remind me of the transformative power of experimentation and constant reinvention in art.

Alga

Alga

This image was taken at Cabo de Gata, shortly after a storm that had left the shore covered with seaweed, witness to the power of the sea. The landscape conveyed a profound sense of desolation, marked by the debris that the heavy swell had washed ashore. During a long walk along that small cove, my attention was captivated by a group of seaweed that, despite the adverse conditions, remained clinging to a rock, showing an impressive resilience to stay in their natural environment.

This photograph has a special meaning for me, as it was one of the first that did not arise from a visual reference or the influence of my photographic references, but was born out of pure and genuine emotion. One of the fundamental principles in the development of a personal gaze is the ability to select the stimuli that we want to transform into images, and this was one of those occasions when emotion dictated the composition.

Eucalipos

El Color De Su Piel
This image is part of the series entitled ‘The colour of their skin’, a collection that narrates the transformation of eucalyptus bark over time. Each photograph in this series represents a significant turn in my artistic trajectory towards the world of abstraction. This evolution began after a trip to the Tinto River with the master Antonio Camoyán, where my photographic vision underwent a profound transformation, moving towards abstraction.

Before, when walking through this forest located in the Tabernas desert, my gaze was limited to the trees as a whole. However, over time, I began to discover the hidden details that lie beneath the surface, revealing visual secrets that only emerge through new forms of representation. Thanks to this photographic work, I was able to make a name for myself in the field of nature photography.

Paisaje De Cal Y Plastico

Paisaje De Cal Y Plastico

The last image I present to you is a pareidolia that I discovered on the roof of my greenhouse. After the process of bleaching its structure to reduce the temperatures affecting the plants, surprising graphics began to form on the plastic. As the days went by, I captured several of these shapes that evoked natural landscapes: a tree leaning on the bank of a river, a stream meandering over a virgin blanket of snow, or, as in this case, a snow-capped mountain range seen from a zenithal perspective.

Up to that point, I had already made numerous pareidolias in the middle of nature, but this image marked a turning point, as it was the first symbolic representation of nature outside its own environment. It was at that moment that I became truly aware of the poetic power of the image, capable of transporting us to magical places inaccessible to others.

How surprised were you to achieve success in the 2015 Wildlife Photographer of the Year awards with your image Life Comes to Art? Tell us a little about how you came to make this image.

Wildlife Of The Year

In 2015, I was in a transitional stage between bird and landscape photography when I decided to revisit an idea I had conceived years ago: to break with the cliché of capturing a swallow flying through a window. So, I came up with the somewhat absurd idea of photographing a swallow breaking a frame to fly through it.

I found the ideal frame in my farmhouse, a painting of a rural landscape with a wide sky where I imagined the swallow would fly. This bird, common in rural areas, fitted perfectly with the theme. As the painting was somewhat deteriorated, I made a hole in the sky to allow the bird to pass through.

I found the ideal frame in my farmhouse, a painting of a rural landscape with a wide sky where I imagined the swallow would fly. This bird, common in rural areas, fitted perfectly with the theme. As the painting was somewhat deteriorated, I made a hole in the sky to allow the bird to pass through.
Months later, in an abandoned warehouse next to my greenhouse, I noticed the return of two pairs of swallows that nested regularly. I removed a sash from the window and placed the painting inside, as if it were on display in the living room of a house. The swallows quickly got used to crossing through the hole I had created.

After a few weeks, I took the first photographs. I placed two flashes at 45 degrees to illuminate the canvas and stop the bird's flight with their partial powers. From my van, about 30 metres away, I used a remote shutter release. After eight hours of intense work, I captured hundreds of images; most with technical errors, but a few were saved, and only one was chosen for its expressive power.

Although I was initially satisfied, doubts arose as to whether the image looked too artificial. I entered it in several nature photography competitions, but only the Wildlife Photographer of the Year competition went for it. It was a surprise, as this competition values documentary style and purity of image capture. However, that edition introduced a new category called ‘Impressions’, which sought to showcase images of nature that broke clichés under a personal gaze. I think this category was tailor-made for my photography, as it fitted perfectly with what was proposed.

9

What difference did your win in the Impressions category make to your photography – for example, your enjoyment and confidence, the time you devote to it, or the balance between it being a hobby or something more?

This recognition marked a significant change in my photographic career and gave me greater confidence in my ideas, however absurd or unusual they might seem. The win allowed me to break free from the constraints imposed by competitions and their aesthetic policies, which often cause creative blocks. Before, I adapted my photographs to meet the requirements of the competitions, but now I focus on developing my work authentically, exploring each concept without worrying about whether or not it fits within the parameters of a competition. This creative freedom has been one of the most valuable lessons of this achievement and has allowed me to connect with my most personal vision.

In addition, being recognised in such a prestigious international competition as the Wildlife Photographer of the Year gave me unexpected visibility. This recognition transformed what seemed like a hobby into a second job that I now combine with my main activity in agriculture and has opened the doors to collaborations, exhibitions and new opportunities that I never imagined I would achieve

Before, I adapted my photographs to meet the requirements of the competitions, but now I focus on developing my work authentically, exploring each concept without worrying about whether or not it fits within the parameters of a competition.

11

Can you give readers a brief insight into your set up – from photographic equipment through processing to printing? Which parts of the workflow especially interest you and where do you feel you can make the most difference to the end result?

In my photographic work, the greatest effort goes into the pre-production and production phases, where the creative process really comes to life. The observation and selection of subjects is fundamental, as it is in this pre-shooting stage that ideas emerge and the focus of each image is defined. In pre-production, I visualise the composition in my mind, identify the essential elements and decide how I want to represent them visually. I don't need extensive or complex photographic equipment; many of my photos could be captured with any camera because the value is in the vision, not the technology.

The production phase is where the camera becomes an extension of my perception, allowing me to apply techniques and composition to realise what I have conceptualised. My training in the analogue era taught me that the moment of the shot is where a photograph is truly complete: each capture is the result of careful planning and clear focus. Although digital development is part of this phase, I don't give it too much importance, limiting myself to basic adjustments of brightness, contrast and colour, similar to what we did in analogue labs. I do not seek to alter the image but to polish it and highlight the key elements that were already present in the capture.

Finally, the post-production phase also involves an additional effort, as I seek to give maximum visibility to my work through social networks, exhibitions and books. For me, the art of photography is a language to communicate and connect with others. To create images just for oneself, without sharing them, would be to lose the true purpose of art: the transmission of a message or emotion.

10

12

In addition to your love of the natural world, you have said that you try to bring painting and music into your photography. Can you elaborate on this are they influences for what you are drawn to, how you compose your images, or do you also paint or play an instrument?

Although I have never painted, art history is something I am passionate about. Photography and painting have shared key historical moments, influencing each other and shaping their respective evolutions. I find the artistic avant-gardes of the 20th century an endless source of inspiration and learning, as these currents challenged norms and opened doors to new ways of seeing and interpreting reality, allowing the every day to be represented through figurative and abstract approaches.

I find the artistic avant-gardes of the 20th century an endless source of inspiration and learning, as these currents challenged norms and opened doors to new ways of seeing and interpreting reality, allowing the every day to be represented through figurative and abstract approaches

This pictorial influence is reflected in my photography through images that evoke different artistic styles. From impressionistic compositions to abstract and surrealistic approaches, each style brings a visual richness that enriches the viewer's perception and gives depth to the photographic representation. For me, knowing the history of art is a fundamental tool to develop a broader and more diverse view, always in search of new ways of seeing.

As for music, although I don't play an instrument, I am captivated by the serene melodies of the violin and the piano, which convey calm and uplift me. I try to capture that same enveloping and expressive atmosphere in my images, a mixture of deep peace and intimacy, although sometimes I don't know if I succeed completely. Studying the creative process of musicians is also very inspiring for me; their approaches and constant innovations throughout their careers show me that there is always room for reinvention and growth in art.

13

You have talked about transmitting sensations… trying to find something new each time you go out. You seem especially drawn to abstraction, and enjoy experimenting. What now motivates you?

In my early days, I conceived photography mainly as a tool to capture the beauty of environments, plants or animals. However, over time, I began to reflect on its expressive potential. This evolution arises from the understanding that photography is a means of communication between the author and the viewer, in which each shot can generate different interpretations in the beholder. When I talk about looking for something new in each outing, I am referring to that constant need to find new forms of visual communication that allow me to maintain my motivation in this world and continue to grow.

A key moment in my career was the discovery of the world of abstraction, which opened the doors to new interpretations through shapes, colours and textures. This kind of image invites the viewer to a state of search, where he is torn between what he sees and what those forms suggest to him. I am currently very interested in symbolism, an area that challenges and fascinates me in equal parts. The creation of a universe of meaning that departs from its origin, that defies expectations and proposes new visual readings, is a process that I find extremely stimulating and complex.

14

Exhibitions and books suggest that it is important to you that other people see your photographs in print. How do you choose to print and present your work and looking ahead do you have a preference for one over the other (exhibitions or books)?

At present, I do not have a definite preference between exhibitions and books, as I consider both forms of presentation to be valuable, albeit limited in scope. The digital environment, with its ability to reach a global audience instantaneously, is undeniably crucial in the contemporary world. Platforms such as social media allow us to share our work more widely and quickly than any physical exhibition or book, which generates a greater impact in terms of visibility.

That said, I also recognise the unique value of more traditional experiences, such as physical exhibitions and printed books. Presenting a work in an exhibition space allows for a more intimate and direct interaction with the viewer, creating a special bond between the work and the audience. Books, on the other hand, offer a lasting, tangible record that allows for a slow and thoughtful appreciation of the work.

Photographs become meaningful when they are seen and generate reactions in those who look at them. While digital platforms broaden our reach, physical exhibitions and books offer a depth that is also important in any artist's career.

In the end, regardless of the format, for me, the essential thing is the interaction with the viewer. Photographs become meaningful when they are seen and generate reactions in those who look at them. While digital platforms broaden our reach, physical exhibitions and books offer a depth that is also important in any artist's career. I believe that both formats complement each other, and I will continue to explore them as the project requires.

15

What do you feel you’ve gained through photography?

Photography has been my main ally in the exploration of my inner world, a confidant with whom I have shared my tastes, insecurities and concerns openly. I consider myself a naturally introverted and reserved person; I often find it difficult to express what is inside me. However, through photography I have found an authentic and sincere way to channel my emotions, sensations and ideas in a way that would be difficult to express in everyday life without the mediation of the camera.

Photography has taught me to pay attention to small details and to look beyond superficial appearances. In the same way that in life the most valuable essences are often found in the most inconspicuous details, I have learned that not everything is what it seems at first glance, but that the true essence is in how we interpret what we observe. This approach has not only transformed my view of the world, but has also enriched my daily life with valuable lessons about perception and interpretation of reality.

16

Do you have any particular projects or ambitions for the future, or themes that you would like to explore further?

I am currently developing a personal photographic project that explores the relationship between my passion for nature and my working environment, the greenhouse. Many of the images accompanying this interview are part of this work in progress, which still requires considerable development, but I am excited about the possibility of it becoming a work that innovatively reflects my artistic evolution. Like many photographers, I aspire to publish a book compiling my work, and in this project I have found a theme with which I feel deeply identified. Through it, I wish to highlight the importance of looking closely at the immediate environment, demonstrating through my images that it is not necessary to travel far to discover beauty and establish a meaningful connection with the viewer.

For me, there is nothing more personal than intertwining my daily work in the greenhouse with my photographic passion, as each image becomes a bridge that connects these two worlds.

For me, there is nothing more personal than intertwining my daily work in the greenhouse with my photographic passion, as each image becomes a bridge that connects these two worlds. My project is also an invitation to reconsider everyday spaces to see how work and creativity can feed each other to shape a unique visual universe.

If you had to take a break from all things photographic for a week, what would you end up doing?

Sometimes I feel the need to completely disconnect from everything related to photography. In fact, during my summer holidays I usually spend almost a month without thinking about it. With the current pace, between workshops, conferences, articles, interviews and other training activities, I find it essential to take these breaks to recharge my batteries and keep my balance. From a creative point of view, I also find that these breaks are necessary to disconnect and then reconnect with a renewed perspective.

Disconnecting allows me to return to photography with fresh eyes, appreciating the creative process in a fuller and more open way. Also, by exploring other disciplines and feeding my curiosity outside of the camera, I find inspiration in unexpected places, which adds depth and unique nuances to my images. Each time I return, I feel I have something new to contribute, a vision that would not have emerged without these moments of pause. These reflective spaces not only keep my work fresh, but also help me remember why I started in photography and rediscover the pleasure of capturing moments that reflect my artistic identity.

17

And finally, is there someone whose photography you enjoy – perhaps someone that we may not have come across – and whose work you think we should feature in a future issue? They can be amateur or professional.

I would like to recommend two outstanding photographers from my homeland whose work I think deserves to be featured in a future issue. I would not be surprised if they have already published with you.

As for established authors, I would like to highlight Isabel Díez, who has been my main source of inspiration throughout my artistic development. Her work, mainly focused on coastal landscapes, stands out for the enormous sensitivity with which she captures the smallest details, transmitting calm, strength and mystery.

In the field of emerging artists, I would recommend César Llaneza. His work is also characterised by a meticulous attention to close framing, as well as a special elegance in the treatment of colour and the emotionality that his motifs evoke. Llaneza's images possess a unique vitality that makes them truly captivating.

Thank you, Juan. It’s going to be fascinating to see how your intermingling of photography with your working environment continues to evolve.

You can see more of Juan’s photography on his website.  You’ll also find him on Facebook and Instagram.

We have previously featured the two photographers that Juan has suggested, and you can read these interviews by following the links below.

[/s2If]

Geotagging, Gatekeeping, and Responsible Location Sharing in Landscape Photography

This week, I had the misfortune of having one of my most unique photographs go viral in a Facebook Group about Colorado Photography. I say misfortune because this explosion in views came with a litany of comments from viewers asking me to provide the exact location of the photograph. Having spent some time at this particular location, I'm keenly aware that it lacks the infrastructure that would need to accompany a mass influx of visitation, so I kept my lips sealed and simply stated that the image was captured in Colorado. This angered a lot of people for a variety of reasons, which we will expand on later in this article; however, I need to explain why so many photographers are keeping location information close to the vest.

Matt Payne Article 2024 4

This photograph sparked outrage in a Facebook Photography Group because I refused to tell everyone where it was captured.

To paint a picture for you, I need to take you back to 2015. It was the very first time I ever visited what is now known as the most popular alpine destination in Colorado - Ice Lakes Basin. It was a pristine August weekend and my friend Ryan and I wanted to backpack into the basin so that I could climb Vermillion Peak nearby while we both engaged in some landscape photography. We had known about the location's potential for great photography through our meticulous research and were excited to go. Needless to say, we were both able to capture some great images and had a great time. We saw a total of four other people the entire weekend. I was so elated about my experience that I wrote an article about it for a now defunct magazine called the San Juans Mountain Journal. A friend of a friend and local resident of Ophir, Colorado, disparaged me for sharing information about this special place, which I didn't understand at the time. I thought, "What is the harm in sharing this location with other outdoor enthusiasts?"

Matt Payne Article 2024 7

One of my first photographs from Ice Lake Basin, a beautiful place that has become overcome with visitation thanks to Geotagging on social media

Negative Impacts on Locations from Geotagging and Location Sharing in Photography

Fast forward to 2016 and beyond and it was clear to me that the word was out about this amazing place thanks to the proliferation of Instagram and Geotagging. Several huge and popular accounts with over a million followers had created some viral videos of Ice Lake Basin and the impact was extreme. The basin went from seeing 10-20 visitors a week to over 1,200 a day in a matter of a year. I returned in 2016 to find it packed with crowds of people, which transformed the location from a pristine nature experience filled with peace, solace, and solitude to one of noise, trash, and crowds of people. While this might not be a big deal for some places, it is a huge deal for a place like Ice Lake Basin. This location is above the tree line, where the tundra is quite sensitive to the impact of foot traffic. There is only a short vegetation growing season of approximately 50 to 60 days. Due to the extreme climate and limited opportunities for plant growth, this ecosystem is extremely sensitive to disturbance. Even modest human activity can result in many negative impacts on the ecosystem. Which is exactly what happened. Human faeces accumulated at the lake. Social trails exploded. Now a permit system is being implemented which will limit access, which is counter to what all of the anti-gatekeeping folks hate - more on that later.