Saturday, 28 November 2009

cloud inversion & fogbow on Ben More

The mountain weather forecast suggested that perhaps the only good place to go today would be somewhere in the West Highlands, but south of Lochaber. We've climbed every Munro in Scotland south of Fort William, so Jim & I, unusually, decided to climb one we'd been up before, and ended up climbing Ben More (the Crianlarich one). This paid off as we found ourselves in a wonderful cloud inversion, saw our brocken spectre, and walked up to the col into a fog bow, (also known as a fog dog, cloud bow or white rainbow).

I've seen partial cloud inversions before, but they've been where I've been sandwiched between a high and a low layer of cloud, or have been above low lying mist in valleys, but this was my first bona fide cloud inversion with brilliant blue skies above, the cloud encircling the mountain. What a fantastic thing to experience. The battery on my camera had died, so all these photographs have been taken by Jim.


Thursday, 26 November 2009

fissure vent - steamboat springs

This has long been one of my favourite photographs and was taken by Timothy H O'Sullivan in 1867 of the fissure vent in Steamboat Springs, Washoe, Nevada. I've always been attracted to mist, cloud, vapour - almost like a shorthand for impermanence and insubstantiality - and this has grown for me in recent years through my interest in walking and climbing where I regularly find myself walking into the cloud base with visibility often reduced to just a few metres. In this photograph, the faint form of a person can just be seen emerging from behind the  steam vent; and the cleft in the earth where steam escapes serves as a visible reminder of the mass below our feet, to the presence of molten rock, to metals, and to the living breathing organism that is the earth.

Timoth H. O'Sullivan : Fissure Vent of Steamboat Springs, 1867, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Albumen silver print from a glass negative. 

This is another less well known image by O'Sullivan from the same location.

Timothy H. O'Sullivan, 1867

Wednesday, 25 November 2009

cake found on Schiehallion...

Found on Schiehallion the night we made the pinhole camera images - a solstice offering from another group of walkers.. (Schiehallion's colloquially known as the fairy hill).

Tuesday, 24 November 2009

Crusoe & Friday

Lesley Punton "Crusoe & Friday : Robinson Crusoe"
2009, from the Lightships series, A6 B&W postcards

Monday, 23 November 2009


Lesley Punton "Castorp : The Magic Mountain"
2009, from the Lightships series, A6 B&W postcard

Sunday, 22 November 2009

Marlow & Kurtz

Lesley Punton "Marlow & Kurtz : Heart of Darkness"
2009, from the Lightships series, A6 duotone postcards

Saturday, 21 November 2009

the white ribbon

I went to see this film by Michael Haneke at the GFT last night. It was winner of the Palme D'Or at Cannes this year, and definitely worth seeing if you get the chance. Stylistically, it takes it's cue from the photographs of August Sander, and is incredibly beautifully made. For Haneke, the film is about "the origin of every type of terrorism, be it of a political or religious nature."

Wednesday, 18 November 2009

James Nasmyth & August Strindberg

James Nasmyth, the Scottish inventor and engineer, was obsessed with all things lunar. He built his own telescope to view the moon, and, in order to illustrate the book The Moon: Considered as a Planet, a World, and a Satellite (1885), he created these amazing images. Unfortunately, photography couldn't itself actually record it's surface when he made these images, so Nasmyth instead created wonderful plaster models based upon his observations through his telescope and photographed them in the moon's place. A crater on the moon is named after him.


Meanwhile in 1893, August Strindberg, the Swedish playwright, during a bout of writers block and existential crisis, turned to photography. Attempting to photographically capture the night sky in works he called celesteographs, instead of placing his film in a camera, he simply left the film to be exposed to the night on windowsills, on the ground, and sometimes bathed in developer (Strindberg apparently distrusted the distortion of lenses, and whilst he had made a few rudimentary pinhole cameras, by now had decided to abandon the camera altogether). Although believing the results to be images of stars and constellations, in reality, he had recorded the marks of dust and chemical stains accrued during exposure and the inexact development of late 19th century photographic technique. Nonetheless, the resultant images retain a connection to the original idea, to the 'witnessing' of an event, a measure of time depicted in alchemical transformation.

I think I like this divergence from the scientific that both these non-artist makers employed. There's something in the way that the forms of both abandoned the limitations that science and technology afforded them at the time (whether deliberate or not), and moved towards a notional description of place that is perhaps 'truer' than the one that could, in reality, have been achieved through more 'correct' means.

Tuesday, 17 November 2009

Joe Deal

It seems that the Roger Fenton image from 13th Nov is one of those images that has inspired a few "remakes". Here's one by Joe Deal, one of the photographers associated with the New Topographics group.

Saturday, 14 November 2009

la jonction

La Jonction is the spectacular meeting place of the Glacier des Bossons and the Glacier de Taconnez on the Massif de Mt Blanc, and this was my first experience of standing upon a glacier. Being the meeting point of two glaciers, this is a heavily crevassed jumble, with creaking ice and occasional falling seracs. The Gite a Balmat, a mere howff amongst some large boulders, is reached just minutes before you reach La Jonction and it was here that, in 1786, Jacques Balmat and Doctor Gabriel Paccard bivvied overnight before making their successful first ascent of Mt Blanc, the view of which dominates the scene beyond.

Looking down a crevasse on La Jonction, July 2007, Photograph courtesy of Jim Hamlyn

Friday, 13 November 2009

homage to Roger Fenton

Lesley Punton, Homage to Roger Fenton: Boules, Silver Gelatin Print, 1997
I've never ever shown this photograph. It was simply made as a bit of fun when I was on a residency in 1997 in Gallivare, in Swedish Lappland, North of the arctic circle - the farthest North I'd ever been. At that time, I'd been making 5x4 format black & white images where I'd photographed quarries, scrub land, boulder fields etc in an attempt to find a space that somehow resembled the surface of the moon. Spending time with a disparate group of artists from (mainly) Scandanavia, we often played boules and, being in the habit of looking at the ground and thinking of ideas surrounding wastelands/wilderness/deserts, I was struck by the resemblance that the fall of the boules in one particular game had to Roger Fenton's seminal photograph valley of the shadow of death depicting the aftermath of a battle in the Crimean War with cannonballs strewn over the ground. Like Fenton, I staged it again whan all the players had left (though in my case they had all gone inside for tea!).

Roger Fenton, Valley of the shadow of death, 1855, Getty Museum

Monday, 9 November 2009

farthest north

In relation to the earlier post regarding a walk up Schiehallion and our bivvy on the summit on the summer solstice 2009, I thought I should post some images from an earlier journey. 

On June 24th 2008, at 12.05am, Jim and I made a walk up Ben Hope, Scotland’s most northerly mountain over 3000ft, with the aim of finding (because of it’s elevation) a place on this island where the sun didn’t set. Of course, it turned out that the sun did indeed set, but in the two hours in which we climbed to reach the summit, we didn’t find recourse to use head-torches and the sun only just dipped below the horizon. “Maximum black” was at around 1am, but still there was sufficient light to be able to safely keep our footing. Dawn came at around 3am and, after an extremely cold hour on the summit, we walked down as colour began to penetrate the ground below us.

looking North East from the summit at 2.00am
trig point inside shelter cairn facing South
looking East towards the moon

Sunday, 8 November 2009

first snow

the first snows of the 2009 winter walking season, on the summit of Beinn Nan Aighenan, Sunday November 8th.

Wednesday, 4 November 2009

a 5 day journey

Robert Macfarlane again, this time every night this week on Radio 3 in a series entitled the essay - a 5 day journey "walking the length of the South Downs, exploring its chalk path and its ghosts".

The BBC's blurb is thus:

Walking the Hampshire miles of the South Downs, in monsoon rain and sunshine, Robert reflects on the relationship between paths and stories, and how old paths were imagined in 19th-and early 20th-century England as ghostly spaces of time-warp and spectres. He considers how paths might be thought of as sculptures, a kind of democratic art form; and he meets a man who has been on the road for seven years, since the death of his wife.

Walking the Downs on the Sussex-Hampshire border, Robert explores poet Edward Thomas' love affair with paths and tracks. For 20 years, Thomas walked what he called 'the long white roads' and 'frail tracks' of England's chalk country. Then in 1916, he enlisted and was sent as an officer to the chalk landscape of Arras in Northern France, with its far more dangerous paths. He was killed on Easter Monday, 1917.

Crossing from Bramber Bank to Kingston Down, in the company of writer Rod Mengham, Robert considers the Australian Aborigine concept of the songline, whereby walking, wayfaring, singing and folk memory become aligned. He explores some of the ways that landscapes can be sung into being - or 'en-chanted' - and embarrasses a number of passers-by with his own performances.

The Downs have often prompted dreams of flight. Reaching the Cuckmere Valley and the Seven Sisters, Robert re-imagines the life of artist Eric Ravilious, who was fascinated by the 'pure design' of the South Downs - their paths, ridges and light. Ravilious's passion for aerial landscapes eventually led him northwards, to Norway and Iceland. He disappeared off the coast of Iceland in September 1942 while on a rescue flight.  

Walking the final miles of the South Downs with artist Chris Drury, Robert explores the sometimes eerie relationship between walking, collecting and creation. Vladimir Nabokov, Iris Murdoch, Hugh MacDiarmid, Bruce Chatwin and Drury's own land-art sculptures feature, as does the life and death of Virginia Woolf, who drowned herself in the Sussex Ouse having slipped a single, heavy flint into her pocket.

Monday, 2 November 2009

A Wilder Vein

 I haven't read this yet (though I'm sure I will), but I thought Robert McFarlane's foreward to A Wilder Vein summed up so well one of the core reasons I'm so interested in Landscape.

"Repeatedly, these writers return to the idea that cognition is site-specific, or motion-sensitive: that we think differently in different landscapes. And therefore, more radically, that certain thoughts might be possible only in certain places, such that when we lose those places, we are losing kinds of imagination as well."