Thas A Fact?

Solitude. Expansiveness. Individuality.

These are the three predominant ideas which influence my landscape photography in Norfolk. Anyone who has stomped their way around the county’s coast and countryside as much as I have in recent years will agree that attempting to pin down particular characteristics is nothing short of impossible. In west Norfolk, Thetford Forest. In east and south Norfolk, the Broads and the iconic flat countryside. In north Norfolk, an enigmatic coastline, the appearance of which alters vastly when approached from each and every village.

This individuality, to a large degree, is my motivation for photographing landscapes in Norfolk (and Suffolk too, for Suffolk contains completely different, unique and stunning landscapes again). With each venture, as I set off, often at frankly absurd hours of the morning, I am absolutely certain of one thing: I will return with an altogether different, altogether new perception of the county I am proud to call home.

From my three years of attempting it, though, I have become increasingly aware that photographing Norfolk – and particularly its flatlands – can be profoundly difficult. Finding a point of interest in a flat landscape, in which details are often small and distant, can be a frustrating task. With experience (and empty-handed forays into the countryside) comes knowledge, though, and after taking a step back to consider what makes a weak photograph of Norfolk, I quickly began to identify ways of making mine a little stronger.

It is all too easy – bluntly speaking, and from my own experience – to produce landscape photographs that range from dull, to flat, to clichéd, to lacking in imagination. Flick through one or two photography magazines next time you buy a newspaper. You will find dozens and dozens of landscape photographs, by dozens and dozens of professional photographers, that somehow contrive to look very similar to each other. Wide angles, vibrant colours, sunsets, silhouettes and lengthy exposures of waterfalls and tides. Technically astute, yes. These aspects can be put to brilliant use. Somehow they frequently aren’t, though. Somehow it seems enough to simply capture a waterfall, rather than to stop to consider why it is worthy of attention, and from there how to portray it in the final image. As far as wide angle shots go, it certainly isn’t difficult to cram details into an image. It is far easier to leave something in a photograph than to leave it out. Where is the subtlety and deftness of perception in that?

It is no secret to anyone who reads my blog that of all the photographers I have come across, the one I venerate above so many others is the German artist Hans Göhler (John Gay). Göhler’s philosophy of photography, published in 1936, read thus, and, by and large, I concur with it:

‘In a good artistic photograph, ‘spacious views do not give photography its full scope; it scores in careful and minute details.’*

At first glance, such a statement appears entirely at odds with landscape photography. Göhler, however, was a master of landscapes. His argument, I think, is for subtlety and uniqueness of perception – qualities which, it is apparent to me, have not received anywhere near enough attention in recent years. (I suspect this is not due to a mass change in taste but, arguably, because of the simple lack of that sense of individuality, amongst a burgeoning number of photographers, many of whom appear to operate as technicians rather than artists.) Many photographers spend so long looking at their fellow photographers’ work, and even at times physically following other photographers’ footsteps, that they neglect to really develop their own sense of perspective.

Let us return to Norfolk, on that note – because I would wholeheartedly recommend spending time in the county’s countryside, in solitude, learning to focus on details rather than on what other photographers are doing. I have sought to portray many different aspects of the county, working in this way – which I shall briefly explain here, to those of you who may be interested. Predominantly in the last two years, I have photographed in monochrome, to focus attention upon highly distinctive shapes and lines in landscapes, as in this photograph of Cromer Pier:

This photograph, shot (against the advice of almost any photography magazine) directly into the sun, was taken in Holt – not, as you might imagine, in the countryside, but from the back of a row of houses, a minute’s walk from the town centre. The opportunity to photograph woodland in this way doesn’t arise often – and neither does the opportunity to photograph the sun:

I have worked out a wonderful little means of emphasising the expansiveness of Norfolk’s landscape. Made famous, of course, by the magnificent Ansel Adams, it isn’t the most subtle of techniques – but as omnipresent as Norfolk’s skies are, how often do you take a step back to appreciate just how enormously dominant they are in the landscape of the Broads? (Probably as often as you take a step back to appreciate the fact that you are breathing…)

This photograph, of Holkham Beach, could so easily have been one of the profusion of ‘spacious views’ that Hans Göhler and I, on the whole, endeavour to avoid. Whilst setting the camera to its longer exposure, though, to capture the trails of the sand, I spotted the dog to the left of the frame – and ran after it. I’m pleased that I did so. Without the presence of the dog as the solitary, quirky detail, the photograph might not have been worth a second look.

As with that photograph, so with this: to draw attention to the lines and shapes, a little more subtly than in my monochrome work, I sometimes drain colours slightly. Clearly, in these photographs, the colours are there, but not quite realistic. In a small but significant way, it encourages the perception of shapes, lines and composition – as well as lending this image a suitably indolent tone:

All the same, though, the prevalence of the sky is paramount. Expansive skies – and, indeed, the view of the horizon – highlight the character of Norfolk that I think I appreciate most of all – the sense of solitude, of being a humble, small entity in a massive world. Just like this man:

Article by Ryan Watts
www.ryanwattsphotos.co.uk

*John Gay, England Observed (English Heritage, 2009)