Personal photography
I love doorways and doors. I must have thousands of photos of them from many countries. I always wonder what’s behind them, who walked through them, and what they’ve seen.
I took this one in a narrow side street in Edinburgh, where I used to live.
I used to go up and down the East coast of Scotland a lot to take my photos. One of my favourite places was a small fishing village called Gourdon. I took so many photos of the shore and of the boats there.
Not long after I took this photo, the boat was removed. Presumably scraped, given its state at the time.
I like framing things and I like grass in my monochrome photos. They mix well with the grain.
Until now I hadn’t looked at this photo in monochrome. I took it very early in the morning to have nice orange light. But the details in the grass and in the wood work well with monochrome too.
This is the photo that got me into monochrome (toned) and long exposures.
It is also the photo I made when things started to click for me: I had it in my head for a very long time before I could make it happen. Finding the right location for a composition I liked, and the right time of day for a long exposure, took a good while.
From that point on I concentrated on making the photos I had in my head instead of taking the photos that presented themselves.
This photo was taken on a winter Sunday morning at the top of the Trocadero, opposite the Eiffel Tower in Paris.
I love stone work for monochrome because they contain a lot of tiny high contrast details.I took several photos to have a view without people, but in the end I preferred the one with a woman walking up the stairs.
I grew up in Paris, but only went to see the tower once. That’s usually what happens to the locals: they don’t do the touristy things.
A few years ago, I went with a friend of mine on a foggy Sunday morning and took some photos. The structure is amazing and makes great monochrome shots.
Quincaillerie (iron monger or hardware store) is apparently a word English speakers pain to pronounce.
This woman was walking down the street and slowed down in front of the shop. The shop itself is the story: it used to be called Serge Blanco, who was a French rugby player in the 80s. He must have had a chain of shops in his name and I’m guessing they’ve disappeared.
Another photo taken near the jardin du Luxembourg in Paris on a Sunday morning.
Every year, there is an outdoor photography exhibition on the fences around the garden. Each year has a theme (e.g. photo journalism, space).
When I was living in Aberdeen, Scotland, I was lucky to have great beaches nearby, with very few people on them (North Sea, brrr!). I spent many morning at sunrise taking photos of the sun and sea.
In this case, the new granite stone groynes had been recently installed to try to keep the sand on the beach instead of letting it go down the coast. I thought they’d make good framing.
In this Sunday morning, I went back to another winter Sunday morning I spent walking around the parc du Luxembourg in Paris (where the senate sits).
For me it sounds silent. And what tells the story is the cane. That old woman got dressed on a cold winter morning, went to the parc, and watched people for while. That was her goal and she made an effort for it.
