This year marks the beginning of a long term project to digitally archive thousands of 35mm slides and negatives taken over a 40 year period. I originally started this 20 years ago but quickly became bored with the time taken to scan images, and disappointed the results I was achieving. This was very much to do with our knowledge of scanning techniques and limited free time as the Minolta scanner used was very good, albeit very slow. It was sold many years ago and the decision to purchase another meant that we had a steep learning curve ahead as well as the necessary dudiligence to complete regarding the most suitable scanner for our purpose. We eventually settled on the Epson Perfection v850 Pro, which will be the subject of our own review as we become more familiar with it.
During the summer we spent a couple of weeks on the Croatian island of Hvar. We also took the opportunity to explore the island of Bol and port of Split while we were there. Split is an architectural wonderland that fuses many historical periods, from Roman times to present day. There is an overwhelming amount of sights to see - more than can be fitted into a couple of day trips from Hvar. The images below barely scratch the surface, but give an idea of what to expect. Bol is a far more tranquil place than either Split or Hvar and operates at a sedentary pace of life that we found most agreeable!
We took a late summer break to the Croatian island of Hvar. Staying in the main town we were central to the frenetic pace of the port, and it’s attractions. A constant stream of tourists embarking and disembarking ferries ensured interesting people watching sessions from the many cafes located on the main square.
We spent a few days in early May enjoying springtime on Rhodes, Greece. The last time I was here was in September 1989 and before that August 1984, so it was interesting to see how things had changed in the last three decades. Our base was Rhodes Town, as we wanted to be close to the history and buzz of the old and new town. An added bonus was that the location made gave us an enormous amount of subject matter as far as our photography was concerned.
A local place of interest I have overlooked for many years is a pigment works located on the banks of the river Derwent, between Matlock and Matlock Bath. As a boy, I often fished in this area as the combination of rapids, weir and deep pools were excellent spots to catch Trout and Grayling. The works was in production back then, the river below the works often tainted a reddish colour due to pigment leaching into the waterway that vented from the site.
Living in the Derbyshire market town of Matlock, there is so much beauty on the doorstep it is easy to take it for granted. Just outside of the Peak District National Park, high moorland and deep dales are readily accessible, often luring me with the promise of an excellent walk through fantastic scenery. Because of this I often overlook the beauty of my home town, tending to use the area mostly as a testing ground for new kit. These tests aside I have built up a large library of hometown images over the years, and have decided to make 2022 a year when I will pay more attention to what lies within five miles of the garden boundaries. This allows me not only to explore the immediate vicinity, but also smaller local communities well within walking distance of Matlock. Enthused by the idea, and to mark the beginning of this project, I have created an initial collection to which I will add further collections as the year progresses. For your enjoyment, here is the first. I don’t know why I didn’t do this sooner!
“And our atoms shall tumble into Oblivion’s Bed
Dreaming sedimentary dreams on an epochal scale”
Our latest photography project has been to record the decaying monuments found in local churchyards. Behind the shiny new markers of the recently deceased lies a twilight world of the forgotten, their final resting places gradually disintegrating. Centuries of erosion have rendered the inscriptions on some unreadable, while others offer tantalising clues to the occupants…generations of past lives reduced to dust. Gradually headstone foundations slip and they start to lean, times steady hand slowly pushing them earthward. Ivy and lichens secure a footing on once beautifully masoned stone. Birdsong and ancient Yews add to an eternal picture of peace, punctuated by shafts of sunlight in which midges dance to the changing seasons - beauty and sadness combined.
My latest piece of camera equipment arrived a few days ago, in the shape of one of Leica’s finest prime lenses for the L system - the Summicron 35mm f2. Since it’s announcement in the early part of 2019 I have had this on my Wishlist. The first opportunity to use it came yesterday although conditions were dark, foreboding and cold. We decided to play into these properties by heading for Magpie Mine on the windswept limestone plateau near Sheldon, Derbyshire. It was not the task I had envisioned for first use of this lens, and it soon became apparent that the site screamed out to be photographed in monochrome.
As the pandemic moved into its second year, hopes of travelling very far faded. Lockdowns and confusing half measures merged into a confused delirium. The days got longer but the UK temperature remained cool, feeding a mood of depressed desperation to move on and start living again. Travel plans came and went and the bleakness of the year meant that I did not pick up my cameras for almost nine months. Odd really, as a Leica CL that Alison bought me for my 60th birthday did nothing to rekindle my enthusiasm, other than to take a few shots to ensure it functioned correctly. With all travel plans cancelled we took a gamble on a possible two week holiday to Zakynthos and watched nervously as countries shifted in a confused fog of red, amber and green alerts, the colours smeared by any additional layer of tones from the same indecisive government spray gun.