Thank you so much for inviting me to see these stunning photographs. How do you do it, dear nephew? Your vision is extraordinary. I love the strength and intimacy of the portraits; the pelican photograph is quite magical (as well as very clever) as are the landscapes. The telegraph pole really should be in Tate Modern with Damien! The only slight disappointment is that you are not (yet?) able to grow your own oranges! THANK YOU!
Thankyou aunty :^) Sadly, I have to say I didn't grow the produce (I've updated the post to avoid wrongfully claiming the credit).
I wonder if Damien would allow me to photograph his decomposing shark and post it here? Maybe it's easier to find one myself — I suspect it'd be cheaper too.
I, too, thank you for inviting me to see these lovely photographs. I feel very privileged.
An aspect that struck me is your masterly use of depth of field, so that subjects stand out against a recognisable, but unobtrusive, background - for example, the pelican with the shades of others on the bank. And how wonderfully you've captured a transient moment in the flight of this great bird. I find my eye following an undulating line which starts from the upward curve of its leading wing-feathers, passes over its back, down to its feet, and is then repeated in diminution through the upward curve of the water-drops and down to the splash on the right.
I see more than just a physical difference between Krishna and his brother. I've noticed that people who live in a different country for a long time sometimes take on characteristics of its culture so that they can look a bit foreign when they return to their own country. It's not only Krishna's clothing but his manner of smiling that seem un-Indian to me. Am I imagining it?
I've enjoyed these so much I could write an essay, but will spare you! I'll just say that other favourites are "Fenris-wolf" and "Putangitangi Chick", but I find all of them very satisfying.
Thanks Lesley, especially for the insight about depth of field. Some (relatively) famous person once said something about how our friends see in us things we could never recognise in ourselves, and I think there's a degree of truth in that when applied to photography — which in many respects (choice of subject being the most apparent) is a projection of oneself. Depth of field is something I'm often aware of on only a partly conscious level; when I'm photographing well, much of what I do seems intuition rather than decision.
Thank you so much for inviting me to see these stunning photographs. How do you do it, dear nephew? Your vision is extraordinary. I love the strength and intimacy of the portraits; the pelican photograph is quite magical (as well as very clever) as are the landscapes. The telegraph pole really should be in Tate Modern with Damien! The only slight disappointment is that you are not (yet?) able to grow your own oranges! THANK YOU!
ReplyDeleteThankyou aunty :^) Sadly, I have to say I didn't grow the produce (I've updated the post to avoid wrongfully claiming the credit).
ReplyDeleteI wonder if Damien would allow me to photograph his decomposing shark and post it here? Maybe it's easier to find one myself — I suspect it'd be cheaper too.
Oh dear - you'll be telling me next that you didn't even weave the basket yourself!
ReplyDeleteI, too, thank you for inviting me to see these lovely photographs. I feel very privileged.
ReplyDeleteAn aspect that struck me is your masterly use of depth of field, so that subjects stand out against a recognisable, but unobtrusive, background - for example, the pelican with the shades of others on the bank. And how wonderfully you've captured a transient moment in the flight of this great bird. I find my eye following an undulating line which starts from the upward curve of its leading wing-feathers, passes over its back, down to its feet, and is then repeated in diminution through the upward curve of the water-drops and down to the splash on the right.
I see more than just a physical difference between Krishna and his brother. I've noticed that people who live in a different country for a long time sometimes take on characteristics of its culture so that they can look a bit foreign when they return to their own country. It's not only Krishna's clothing but his manner of smiling that seem un-Indian to me. Am I imagining it?
I've enjoyed these so much I could write an essay, but will spare you! I'll just say that other favourites are "Fenris-wolf" and "Putangitangi Chick", but I find all of them very satisfying.
Thanks Lesley, especially for the insight about depth of field. Some (relatively) famous person once said something about how our friends see in us things we could never recognise in ourselves, and I think there's a degree of truth in that when applied to photography — which in many respects (choice of subject being the most apparent) is a projection of oneself. Depth of field is something I'm often aware of on only a partly conscious level; when I'm photographing well, much of what I do seems intuition rather than decision.
ReplyDelete