Just because a place has an abundance of water doesn’t mean that it can afford to ignore its welfare.
Just because a place has an abundance of water doesn’t mean that it can afford to ignore its welfare.
Short film - The Morning After - late update part two
This short film, my second work as DoP with Lexitricity, was far more impressive than the first one, “Chalk”. It’s called “The Morning After” and we filmed it in mine and Lex’s flats one day, and it was edited by the extremely talented Mark Curl. It’s seen some great exposure, some lovely reviews and I’m very happy with it. This time we set out to make a proper short and the results, well, you can watch below. A twisted little tale starring the dry and witty skills of Miss Charlie Cawthorne.
The Morning After from Lexitricity on Vimeo.
Short films - two very late updates, part 1
Apologies for the almost too late news. Two short films I was DoP for have been going quite crazy over the last six or seven months and I really should have featured them here, but all the activity was happening while I was out of town. Firstly, “Chalk”. This started life as a Sunday night let’s-take-the-camera-out-and-play session, not long after my Canon 5DII arrived, and my good friend and then-neighbour, Lex, dragged me out with two actors for a muck-around and a few pints. The results are this little music video, “Chalk” which has now been screened right across Europe and most excitingly for me, at the ICA in London as part of the Soho Shorts festival, where it was nominated for Best Music Video, up against Coldplay, U2, Goldfrapp and others. Not bad for a few hours work. See the original post on the main Lexitricity site here. In the meantime, watch the short for yourself below. Good work team Lexy.
Chalk (2009) HD from Lexitricity on Vimeo.
Lost Weekend / Part 1: North America
Early tomorrow, local time, I’ll be in NYC to start the big trip, covering a large chunk of the US before heading down into Mexico and all through Central America to Panama.
A quick response to a question several people have asked me, regarding the sharpness of the Leica M9 sensor, since it has no anti-aliasing filter. Well, ultimately, it can only matter on a print, not at 100%, but equipped with a Zeiss 50mm Planar, here is a 100% crop that should help answer that question. I think it’s incredibly sharp, for those of you who care about these things.
Water. I don’t even trust bottled water in India. I drink the filtered stuff any time I stay with family, because they all largely avoid water when out themselves, and resolved to filter my own this time. Christina pointed me towards bottles with self-contained filters, but the only one I found was a Pure Hydration one with a filter in the cap. Essentially, you pour any old water in, preferably without particles, shake it up and leave for 15 minutes. Then squeeze through the filter in the cap and drink. I believe that the shaking releases iodine into the water and then the filter takes that out and anything that might be dodgy still in the water. Works perfectly, but you don’t get a massive water flow if you’re really thirsty, like chugging from a bottle. But the bottle is made of this new microbe-resistant plastic and it doesn’t get dirty or skanky. The filter lasts for approximately 350 litres and fails-safely. The water becomes harder to squeeze through as the filter becomes exhausted, so you only ever get clean water, but you will end up getting nothing. Good call.
Off-the-shelf drugs are quite cheap here, so I stocked up on the essentials: Loperamide, Anti-malarials, painkillers and earplugs. You can go a long way with just those. The ear plugs are just weird though - they sit just inside your ear and don’t really do much plugging. They might keep dust off, or something. From left to right: Ear plugs, Lapromide, Chloroquine, Paracetamol. Bosh. Extras: sticking plasters and rehydration powder. Loperamide stops cramps and diarrohea and is far cheaper here than in the UK. Chloroquine is the recommended anti-malarial with a combination of Malerone/Proguanil - the first takes care of the Plasmodium Vivax parasite and the second takes care of Falciparium, which causes far nastier symptoms. I remember quite vividly learning about the Plasmodium cycle in Biology class, and am happy to see that the drugs are getting better. Time to start packing the bags. Off tomorrow afternoon.
The Voyeuristic Approach: choosing a long lens
I was reading a few weeks ago about focal lens as an analogue of actual distance. My notes tell me that was in a book edited by Elizabeth Edwards called Anthropology and Photography, p. 162. The telephoto lens lends itself to a voyeuristic appeal, with its perspective and shallow depth of field, the distance between the photographer and subject is evident. The question is when one might use it. I’m wanting to draw more and more parallels between colonial photography and the viewing of the subjects and the work I’m doing now, looking at these tribes disenfranchised by the British and maintained by independent India up to the present day. I’ve been thinking a lot about doing a series of colonial portraits as a branch from the main documentary. That’s definitely happening. I’d like to take the voyeuristic approach to some aspects of the culture too. But I’ll find out what in a few days.
Project Logistics: Keeping Dry
The monsoon has come early to India by a few weeks, and there’s a storm hitting the Bay of Bengal pretty badly right this moment. It’ll be here 15 days after Bombay gets it, and I just don’t know what to expect. It might rain every few days a little bit, or a lot, or often, or both, or there might be floods. Just don’t know. It gets unbearably hot right before the monsoon in Gujarat and it’ll be humid for sure. Tropical humid, not London in August. Everything is likely to get soaked at some point. I’ve been idly flicking through manuals for kit and noting that the maximum operating temperature for pretty much everything is 40 degrees C. I get that every day right now, so add some humidity to that and we’re talking about failure in a big way. Batteries hate heat. Electronics hate heat. I hate heat. So, assuming the monsoon gives us a few degrees of relief, what about the humidity? Silica gel to the rescue. Those little packets you find in all unsealed electronic packaging? Silica gel. But you can’t see when that’s dead, they’re generally white. Silica gel can easily be reused by heating it up in a pan until the water’s gone. If you can tell, that is. Cue Geejay Chemicals and a 1 Kg tub of Silica Gel. Goes from orange to colourless as it absorbs water. A handful in a sandwich bag, some fork holes in one side of the bag and it’s ready to throw into the bottom of the Think Tank carriers, keeping moisture away from it’s not wanted. And then tipped into a pan when it’s colourless and heated until it returns to active duty. That’s the detail, of course. The Think Tank gear is water-proof ripstop and there’s a complete cover with no seams in every carrier. As for me, I might wear a hat and some sandals.
I thought I wouldn’t need them, and would much prefer to not be wearing them. Several reasons. One, the viewfinder on these Canons is pretty crappy, and I need to be right be close to see the full frame. Glasses get in the way, which is in fact why I started wearing contacts 16 years ago. Which leads to the next issue. I have some spectacles with me so I can wear them instead of contacts if need be. The climate is drying my eyes out quite quickly, and unless that stops, I might have to wear glasses for some of the time. The other reason is of course other people can’t really see my eyes. If you’re trying to communicate with someone, it’s generally a good idea to show your eyes. Glasses are pretty distorting devices: I feel like a drunken sailor on a listing galleon after wearing glasses for the first time in weeks or months. But they are crystal clear in comparison. Plenty of chromatic aberration though. Anyway, I walked out into the afternoon sun and even after my eyes adjusted, I was pretty blinded by the intensity. Our senses do a remarkable job of compressing the huge ranges of volume and brightness into a linear response, but they have their limits. So: sunglasses. I know I’m going to lose them. I’ve lost every pair I’ve ever owned, and that would be at least six, decent pairs that is. And I’m sure to lose these too. Still, I have three requirements for sunglasses:
A small point to note. The screen on the Canon has poor viewing with polarized specs when held vertically, in case you’re using live view or are otherwise trying to read it that way.