Tall for his age; he could easily be mistaken for a teenager, but I could see his vulnerability and gentleness from a hundred metres away and guessed he was much younger than he looked. Asking permission first of his auntie and then of him we made this picture. He is the same age as my youngest.
Kenny
I could hear his music from several hundred metres away: old school hip-hop generating quite a bit of attention from the other river walkers. I didn’t need to ask him to be photographed. He collared me as soon as he saw the camera, commenting enthusiastically on it being medium format.
He was colourful to say the least, his language a rich mixture redolent of east/west coast hip-hop rivalry and what I can only describe as being some sort of camp Freudian slip into his own rich take on Polari. He was at pains to reassure me of his ‘gangsta’ heterosexuality, peppering his speech with regular N-Bombs and acknowledging how ‘fine’ the girls looked as they walked past, but I was not convinced.
If any theme emerged in the day it was dad’s with their daughters. I didn’t try to conceive it that way, it just sort of happened. Any dad is interesting to me because the value of fatherhood is so woefully overlooked by society. We are largely ignored, especially amongst photography projects, most of which seem to focus on celebrating and raising up motherhood, which is laudable of course but it’s curious how the role of fathers seems to be largely overlooked.
Scott & Isabella
So meeting Scott and Isabella, having already met Lexi and Olly, was a joy, Under a bridge, by the Lea Valley canal, shaded from the high burning midday sun, it was a simple moment on an otherwise wonderful day.
Lovely to have met you both.
I initially walked past Angelica and Kyra. They had immediately grabbed my attention but the patch of land they were hanging out in was exposed and drenched in direct sun and it was obviously not going to work. But just beyond there the trail dips beneath two low bridges set almost consecutively but with a small gap between them. The structures acted like a break to the direct light, creating a natural spot lit pool. Perhaps that could work.
Angelica & Kyra; Lea Valley Navigation.
An almost hubristic willingness to engage almost ended in disaster as Kyra’s skates got the better of her during the transit. A short decline in the path to the location overtook her and she spiralled out of control, only regaining composure when she bailed to the floor. I felt a sharp pang of responsibility, but the hilarity of the moment broke the ice.
My first encounter was with Olly with his daughter Lexi, by the Warrick Reservoir at the start of the Lea Valley trail. I have two boys, so any time I see a father with a daughter I am immediately drawn to them.
Lexi and Olly
I would very much have loved a daughter. I can imagine how much fun we would have had going shopping together (I have a very good eye but am a terribly influence; financial prudence has long since been banished to the whore house!) and, should she have been so inclined, given her dating advice on how to get the best from the men in her life. But two boys were enough so instead those experiences must come vicariously.
Lexi laughed and toyed with the camera via a vivacious and effervescent smile.
I’m still in the midst of my project with Hannah, far from ready to conclude it, but her circumstances and location make it hard to arrange shoots together and I can feel myself getting rusty. I needed an excuse. A premise on which to build a reason for shooting people that has meaning beyond them just being there when I lifted my camera and opened the shutter.
In his book ‘Lights Out for the Territory’ Iain Sinclair co-opted the psychogeography movement that emphasised interpersonal connections to places and arbitrary routes. The book is built around a series of long walks across London which provide an opportunity to explore these interpersonal connections.
What better premise to build a photo walk on?
I started planning. Having consumed most of my free weekends with high energy but ultimately feckless and fruitless dating, I was now motivated to do something different. Be happy being single, be happy walking, be happy with interpersonal connections to places and arbitrary routes that give rise to human interactions like Brownian Motion, random but still so full of purpose and consequence; the entropic arrangement of energy states converting photons to silver halide crystals on emulsion and thus to expressive reminders of our humanity.
My target was to start in Walthamstow or thereabouts and walk down the Lea Valley to Lower Clapton, then head west to Stoke Newington and Stamford Hill, where I spent my mid to late 20s, and from there to Finsbury Park, Highgate and ultimately Parliament Hill for the golden hour. All in it was going to be about 18 miles, a solid effort.
Black Horse Road to Parliament Hill: 18 miles
The route was set. Boots were cleaned, provisions purchased. A neat flask with a broad opening designed to facilitate the ingress of food rather than drink meant a good meal of fresh pasta would keep me going. Plenty of water; some fruit, an almond croissant (regarded as de facto breakfast), sunglasses, pain killers (for my feet) a box of Portra 160, a light meter (because I still don’t trust the one in the newly acquired Mamiya 7II), said camera, camera strap, phone, battery pack, sun screen and a waterproof (because you can just never know).
Feeling like a true adventurer I managed to get to Black Horse Road tube at 10.30am from my home in Horsham, no mean feat that required a 7am start. The sun was already high and shining brightly; I would need to be creative with finding natural shade.
The next posts will all follow the route and the people I met along the way. All were simply short lived but hugely rewarding connections. Fleeting moments of human interaction that remind you of your connection to the world.
Shame about the marks on this image; the lab believes that it’s because the image is significantly underexposed and that as a result result dust and other marks show up. I thought they looked like developing fluid on the neg but none of the other images have them so 🤷♂️. Shame as I love the way her face emerges from the darkness.
Sunday morning at the end of summer, rakish light bisects the buildings of the south London skyline. I notice the man first, barefoot and brightly lit but on his phone so I hang back pretending to wait for a bus. Then the boy appears, also barefoot, the light making him glow like an angel. Patience; the conversation is animated but it can’t last indefinitely. He’s still talking when he waves and a car pulls up at the side of the road. The conversation ends; obviously he’s been giving directions. I chance an approach to ask if there is time for a portrait, they are happy to oblige but the conversation is brief, as fast as the light falls I shoot a frame and they are gone as if in a getaway car.
