Copyright in the digital age has posed some problems for lawmakers. Digital technology has challenged the copyright laws, and lawmakers have been struggling to keep up.

The UK government is wrangling with the issue, and there has been resistance from photographers. The resistance, in many ways, is understandable, and to some degree justified.

Governments need to get the balance between economic growth and photographers rights, though. Whatever is decided can have a profound effect on photographers rights, and potential to make a living, as well as companies being able to make money. 

But is the government’s announcement last week on ‘orphan rights’ appropriate? Orphan rights are copyrighted materials where the owner of which cannot be identified or traced.

The Digital Opportunity: A Review of Intellectual Property and Growth report tackles the controversial issue of orphan works. A review of the 'Digital Copyright Exchange' has recommended that The UK Government should legalise the use of images where the copyright owner cannot be traced.

Understandably, there has been criticisms from the photographic community. The report doesn’t give much detail on how this can be run, and I would argue that it would be open for abuse. Businesses need to make money, but not at the expense of photographers. 

And it isn’t just professional photographers that should be worried. 

While the digital world has allowed people to interact and express themselves in ways never seen before. However, it has it’s downsides. 

Companies and social networks are increasingly seeing the economic potential of photography and other creative works. For instance, Twitpic, a photo uploading service affiliated with social networking website Twitter, upset users by changing its terms and conditions to allow it to sell users photos without their permission or passing on any of the profit. Rightly or wrongly, it saw an opportunity, and took it. 

Copyright of photography and other creative works is a contentious issue. The economic opportunity of whoever owns the copyright of creative works can potentially be big. 

With the recent deaths of Anton Hammerl and Tim Hetherington, I was struck at how relatively safe photography is in the UK, Europe and North America. 

War photography or photographers working in areas with little or no photographic freedom isn’t for the faint hearted. What these photographers are recording are very desperate human experiences and the costs of war, and the results can be unpalatable. I am sure the viewer doesn’t see much of what the photographer does. 

So, where their photographic efforts in vain?

I would argue that their work, along with many other photographers, remind us of the costs of war – not only to other humans, but to the world around us. They are reflecting back the uncomfortable reality that war isn’t pretty – and at a very great risk to their own lives. 

That isn’t to say that other forms of photography don’t challenge the viewer. There is something about war that can be very shocking. 

However, shocking photography like war photography can be a double edge sword insofar that viewers can, and possibly have, become immune to the horrors of war. What caught the attention, or even shocked, previous generations may not even get noticed today. 

Even with a more immune and media savy generation, I find that that photojournalism, including war photography, still is as relevant today. There is something about the still image that encourages or allows reflection in a way that moving images doesn’t. It captures a single moment in time – even if the viewer doesn’t see it initially, there is always an opportunity to go back and have a look. 

And good photographers know how to make a moment memorable. 

I was speaking with a friend today about art and making a living. We were commenting on how competitive photography is, along with other art forms like music.

I had mentioned that I was part of a London Photography group, which I enjoy, but much of my photography doesn’t necessary fit with much of what the group produces. My friend had mentioned friend, who was a photographer, had mentioned that photography, as with other art, is subject to fashions and taste.

This is the struggle I seem to face. Much of the photography I like to produce is not necessary the style of photography that is fashionable. It’s artistic, and often abstract. Feedback from viewers tends to be positive. But this work may not sell.

So what is the motivation behind these photos?

What I find is the photography people are willing to pay me for is wildly different to what I would prefer to take. It is often the wedding, christening or naming ceremony, shot digitally, and in colour, that pays for the often architectural, abstract and gritty photos shot on black and white film.

That isn’t to say that people don’t like my black and white photography. It can be well received, but the market can be fickle, particularly if you’re not a bit name. I have sometimes felt like I have two personalities – one that is more commercial and the other more artistic. While I can be creative when it comes to my commercial photography, I find it much more pragmatic. I am driven to deliver what the client wants.

My more creative and personal photography is much more driven by my voice. It is driven by what the world presents to my eyes. The intermingling and dance between light and shadows; the moments shared and the moments lost.

I find it interestingly, though, that Twitpic has changed their terms and conditions this past week so they can now sell users pics. While photography is competitive, someone obviously can make money from them. And Twitpic isn’t the first to try to cash in on creativity at the expense of photographers. While some photographers may not care if their whether they make any money from their snaps, who makes money from artists creativity has always been an issue – increasingly so in this increasingly digital age.

While there may be a divide in my photography, it obviously has value, even in the lowly ‘snapshot’.

As a photographer, one of the things I take for granted is seeing things. 

I don’t just mean the extraordinary or the unusual. I mean really looking and seeing things or people, often in different lights and angles. Sometimes the photos just appear without me really looking for them. 

One such photo was a sieve that hung in the kitchen window of a Pimlico flat I lived in a number of years ago. The flat was well positioned to let in fabulous amounts of natural sunlight at angles that lent themselves to very contrast abstract black and white photographs. I must admit, I felt in my element. 

On one particularly sunny Saturday morning, I ventured out of my room only to see the soft morning sunshine fall on the sieve and casting shadows on the wall. The image beckoned me, and I couldn’t say no. Grabbing my 35mm camera, I loaded it with Ilford B&W Delta 100 film. 

It was only after taking a roll of film of the sieve did I realise I had rated the film at 200 ASA. However, I appreciated the contrasting effect of the pushed film. It added to the texture and feel of the images. 

Without the lights and shadows playing with the steel of the sieve, the image probably wouldn’t have worked. The sieve came to life with the morning sunlight looking down at it. Without it, the image would have been very flat, and I probably wouldn’t have found the image as interesting. 

There is a part of me that likes to present interesting images of ordinary things society tends to ignore. I often light to play with light and shadows while shooting black and white film. I enjoy the challenge of having the viewer see things around them in a different way. 

I have found many cities have a certain timelessness to them. I often stumble upon parts of London which reflect its history in amongst the ever-changing people, architecture and tastes. 

Borough Market is one of those places. I have passed through many times, sometimes with my camera. On one such occasion, I managed to capture some its timeless quality and charm. 

The first time the market was mentioned was in 1276, although the market itself claims to have existed since Roman times. Like most things, the market has evolved over time, along with its character. However, its charm, and the charm of the immediate area, can be felt. 

The photo I stumbled upon was of a bike, locked up on a street sign, near an entrance to Vinopolis. While the bike, the street sign and signs on the building are clearly quite modern, the image itself could have happened anytime between the 19th century to the present time. The image captures how people travelled through the area on route to the market, work, prayers at Southwark Cathedral or local parishes and so on. 

The image would have had a very different presence and feel if it were in colour. It would have felt much more modern. There is an endearing timeless quality to black and white photos; perhaps due to photography started out in black and white. 

I have often found people treat black and white differently, and often viewing it as a ‘truer art’. I am not sure whether this is true, as there is quite a lot of good art in colour. However, there is something about taking colour out of an image that makes the viewer look at it differently. The image is about the greys, shadows and nuances. 

I find myself taking very different photos in black and white than colour; and have had people say that even my colour images are taken with a black and white eye. On this particular day, I wasn’t using particularly modern methods in capturing the photo. Using a medium format film camera with Ilford 100 film is a bit passé for many. 

The feel and essence of the photo would have been a bit different on a digital camera. While I appreciate digital photography, I prefer the character and essence of film photography when it comes to black and white.  

Through the greys, shadows and nuances of my photo, the image I took captured the timelessness of Borough Market’s history.