street photography

August 2nd, 2018 at 1pm (I. P. Pavlova, Prague)

by Derek Clark


I thought I would have to cancel this trip to Prague. As my sisters health deteriorated it was looking more likely that I would be staying home. But we're here now, grieving earlier than expected, in a strange country, in blistering hot sunshine that has no place in the world of grief.

I've brought my Domke F-3X bag on this trip, but forgone putting a smaller bag in my luggage as I often do. At times that's felt like a mistake as I've been carrying a bit too much kit. X-Pro2, X100F and the X70 are in there, as are the 50/2 and the Samyang 12/2.8. A camera bag always feels twice as heavy an hour after you leave the hotel. The X70 charger is no longer working, so I’m on my last battery and after that the camera will staying in the safe for the rest of this trip. Lucky I brought the WCL-X100 for the X100F, so I'll still have a 28mm.

The light is so much better here than in the UK and It's a welcome distraction when I get in the zone shooting street photography for a while. But we're taking the morning off and I'm writing this by the swimming pool. The kids are playing with a GoPro and Fe is lying on the lounger next to me. It's strange the way normal life goes on, but I'm glad it does. There is an odd feeling of guilt though. Guilt for being on holiday so soon after my sisters death. Guilt for leaving my parents behind at this time. But mostly just guilt for being here, having a life and waking up each day.

Flickering

DSCF2498.jpg

Text and Photography by Jonas Rask

Again the same conundrum.

I'm a photographer. I know what that entails. I know it's about creating my art. Seeing. Envisioning. But my art is not art when it's tucked away in my head, or on my harddrive or printed in my house. It needs to be shared. It needs to be viewed. Preferably to a wide audience. 

I'm a brand ambassador. I know what that entails. I know it's about handling gear. Hard numbers. Calculated. But my representation of the brand is not representation when it's tucked away in solace. I need to be visible. I need to share. Preferably to a wide audience. 

..... And so I flicker. Neither both at the same time. But awkwardly interlaced. Just like striped clothing.

I Live To See Another Day

PHOTOGRAPHY AND TEXT BY STEVE SHIPMAN

I Live

I live with cancer. My life was turned upside down with that diagnosis five months ago. I struggled to get to grips with a life possibly curtailed to 12 months or so. Actually, I can't get to grips with that idea at all. It sits in my mind as a dark point in time, not that far ahead.

I am, or was, a reasonably successful photographer shooting mostly weddings - 30 a year or so. I made a painless transition to working with a brace of XPro2s, and a bevy of primes. I closed the business. I began the endurance test that is chemotherapy every three weeks - feeling crap, feeling ok, feeling good, then doing it all again. During the feeling good week, I am able to focus on my well-being a little more - enjoying my food, having more energy to see friends, and getting out with my camera, my beloved X100F. I live

To See

to see my two daughters growing into capable young women. To see my grandchildren one day. To see everything with more clarity, understanding and meaning and distil all of that into a photograph. My state of mind affects my image making profoundly, some days are better than others. Street photography isn't easy, and for a long time I avoided including people, not having the nerve, thinking it was too confrontational. I was simply looking for light, shapes, and textures. That's changing. The near invisibility of the X100F makes any shot possible. It all comes down to my own vision and reflexes.

Photographing on the street makes me happy. It's a brilliant distraction from the legal, financial and medical paperwork that needs my attention. It fulfils me creatively. The more I look the more I see. I'm getting bolder at including people in my images, and I complicate things further by seeking colour combinations and juxtapositions that I hope will lift the images to another level. To see

Another Day

another day is now a gift I seize with both hands and which I no longer take for granted. Cancer is an insidious disease, creeping malignantly and silently along its deadly course, robbing my life to feed its own. I have had four months of chemotherapy, along with the expected side effects (hair loss and fatigue) and some unexpected (a twice-torn retina and numb finger tips). I am very fortunate to now know that the treatment is working, and the tumours are shrinking. I have a temporary reprieve, and can relax a little. I have time to rebuild my body, and build on this body of work.

Yes, cancer has changed me. I'm more focussed. I try to cut through life's clutter more decisively. I make sure I have things planned and things to look forward to. I spend time with my family and friends, without whom I would have crumbled psychologically weeks ago. I have a joint exhibition next year to focus on, a couple of self-published books to plan, and a lot more images to create. I feel positive and excited and more conscious. Street photography is both rewarding and frustrating. That's its appeal - I never know what's round the corner. And if I don't get the shot this time, there's nearly always another day.

Editors note: Take a look at Steve's impressive celebrity portraits HERE and make sure to follow his personal blog HERE