anthony galvin

Another walk in the woods.

From the top of Ivinghoe Beacon there’s a path that leads along the top of the ridge and into the woods on the Ashridge Estate. It’s a managed woodland, but part of the joy of walk though here is that it’s not overly managed. Clumps of fallen timber and rotting leaves sit under the broad leaf canopy, making it a haven for all kinds of plants, wildlife and hurtling children. 

Yellow.

All over the rolling hills of our part of the world, the fields are a riot of bright yellow. The rapeseed is in full bloom, lighting up the horizon and providing a contrast to the dark browns and greens that are the wet mud and fields - the result of the recent wet weather. 

It's beautiful, but it’s also a reminder that our countryside is the result of human intervention, and in the 21st century that often means monoculture on an industrial scale. What and who the countryside is for is an increasingly complex debate. This is clearly an effective crop for local agri-business and is tremendously uplifting to the soul - so perhaps in this case a win-win situation.  

Growing. 

A weekend of digging and planting, on the allotment and in the garden. The entire family has dirt under their nails and little bit of wind-burn - oh and an ear to ear smile. Brilliant. 

Oslo: Operahuset

Like a glacier sliding into Oslofjord, the opera house is a stunning piece of modernist architecture that stands in a corner of Oslo that is steadily being regenerated.

But it’s not just the location that is refreshing. The Operahuset is designed to be a platform, not just for opera but for people. You can walk up the mountainous slopes that make up the outer walls or stand on the different rooftops at the top of the building and gaze out across the bay. The building embodies the openness and belief in democratic access to the arts by the Norwegian national opera and ballet.

Springtime @ Hovden, Norway

Boarding at Hovden. It’s probably the mountain I’ve ridden more than any other, from freezing night boarding in -20° temperatures to picking my way along in flat flight and great fresh powder days. But this was the first time I’d here ridden in spring conditions. Too warm for a jacket, great views and a brilliant day out on the mountain. Thanks Luke. 

Commuter

I try not to ‘share’ when my commute goes wrong. We chose to live in the village, and yes, it’s not close to the office. Or anywhere (excluding the next village). In fact most of the time, like most people, my commute is pretty mundane.

But. 

Over the next 2 weeks I’m going to commuting by a slightly more unusual set of options, including: private car, folding bike, plane, taxi, @londonmidland train, @amtrak train, tube and (hopefully) snowboard. I’ll try and post back with some good pictures.

It’s going to be an interesting few weeks. 

A walk in Buttermilk wood.

As always, Emma has more (and better) pictures here.

Nikon F2AS

Next weekend my cousin Ian is getting married and my wife is going to be taking some pictures during ceremony. So over the last few days we’ve been pulling together our camera kit, making sure it’s all working nicely and is ready for action. Whilst doing this I decided to pick out one of my vintage 35mm cameras to take along and shoot some photos as well.

Most of my film cameras used to be belong to my paternal grandfather, in fact although he passed away over 20 years ago I still think of them as his cameras. Carefully wrapped up in bubble wrap there’s a couple of wonderful pieces of Nikon engineering from the late 70s and early 80s, including this Nikon F2.

Over the years my grandfather documented lots of family weddings, my grandmother left standing next to a heavy bag of kit whilst he snapped away. I’m fortunate to have his collection of cameras and lenses which date back to the 1950s, most of which are in fantastic condition. 

So this morning I nipped out and picked up a couple of new batteries and some Ilford black and white film. I’m going to run a roll through to test that it’s still working - though I’m pretty sure it is. It’s a joy to use, the metering is clean and simple and there’s a box full on lenses to choose from. I’m sure they won’t let me down. 

It’s not about the camera (or the medium). Maybe.

This feature on the BBC website about a news photographer who was forced to shoot reportage pictures from the London riots with his mobile phone (to avoid getting lynched) got me thinking about the changing nature of the camera.

My wife takes some amazing pictures, sometimes with a digital SLR and at other times with her iPhone. We have lots of cameras in the house, from a medium format AgiFlex, that dates from the early 1950s to the achingly high tech Nikon D200 that I use for most of my pictures. 

All these cameras are different to use, with advantages and drawbacks. The analogue film cameras don’t get much use, but that’s more financial than aesthetic. Probably the best pictures I’ve ever taken were with my enormous Nikon F5 and a manual focus 55mm prime lens. I’d use it much more if it didn’t cost so much to develop the pictures

And yet the medium continues to matter, to some. Tacita Dean’s call to arms at the Tate, a pean to the fading age of 35mm movie film and even my experiments with ‘new’ polaroid style film show that analogue photography continues to be part of the photographic conversation.

Yet, for most people these days camera is synonymous with phone. Maybe this debate about the format doesn’t matter so much as the fact that people continue to be passionate about photography - both the process and the pictures.