Love. A simple word, but one that can mean very different things. A word which describes something very profound, but can be seen as threatening at the same time. Much has been written, spoken, theorised and philosophised about love. 

Valentine’s Day is an opportunity for lovers to celebrate the love they have for each other; a love that can be very affirming, deep, tender and precious; a love based on acceptance and trust. 

However, love can also be subversive, and challenge the shifting social norms and mores. Love between different social classes, races and religions as well homosexual love can be reviled or even suppressed, for instance. 

I came across some graffiti recently near Brick Lane, East London a few months ago. It was something I could have easily missed, and am glad I didn’t. 

The graffiti is very simple, but profound. A girl and a boy holding hands, in a doorway; the doorway was on a side street. With a certain shyness, the lovers steal a moment together. While not flaunting their love, they aren’t entirely out of view either. 

The viewer was left to interpret the story. Was it of two young lovers wanting a more private moment together, away from the ridicule of peers and the knowing eyes of elders? Were they trying to hide something from their friends, family, and society at large? 

The image for me encapsulates the conflicting nature of love. On one hand, something that is profound and beautiful; on the other, revealing humanity’s deep unease of something that is rather difficult to control. I find the image both affirming and subversive. 

The graffiti art works as a black & white photo rather than colour. The black & white of the graffiti and the surrounding buildings bring out the subtleties of the image. I took the photo on Ilford Delta 400. 

The above image is available to buy as a print. For more information, please click here.

Art can be used to reflect who we are and what it means to be human. While visiting Woolwich Arsenal in East London, I was reminded of this.

The proper name for the area is Royal Arsenal, Woolwich and was originally known as the Woolwich Warren. It was where armaments manufacture, ammunition proofing and explosives research for the British armed forces was carried out.

The Warren in Tower Place was established as an Ordnance Storage Depot in 1671. An ammunition laboratory (the Royal Laboratory) was added in 1695, and a gun foundry (the Royal Brass Foundry) was established in 1717. In 1805, it became known as the Royal Arsenal. The Woolwich Royal Ordnance Factories closed in 1967.

Like much of the East End, parts of the Royal Arsenal has been redeveloped and used to build residential and commercial buildings.

Part of the redevelopment has included some statues of Iron Men, situated near the old warehouses near the River Thames. When I first saw them a few months ago, I was taken by them. They almost seem like an attempt to solidify the fluid human existence and form.

In an area that manufactured munitions for war, the status reminded me of how fragile humans can be, but how humanity tries to protect itself from death, destruction and erosion.

I was debating between whether to photograph in colour or b&w. Both would give a very different feel to the photo. The statues are very textured, as are the buildings (both historical and new build) in the area. The area is steeped in military history, and you can feel that.

In the end, I chose to shoot with Ilford Pan F 50 film. I wanted to use a slow film to capture the texture of the sculptured Iron, which was beginning to be weathered by the elements.

I am very pleased with the results, and am sure I will revisit the Iron Men again at some point. The images captured an aspect of humanity that we sometimes miss.

Wapping is one of my favourite places to photograph in London. It’s an area steeped in history, but has changed considerably in the last 20-30 years.

Even with the changes, there are remnants of its past that have yet to be gentrified. A few months ago, while wandering with my camera, finding things to photography, I came across a derelict building, waiting to be redeveloped. The interesting thing about it was how nature had taken over and managed to find a foothold into the building.

I have noticed this elsewhere. It could be weeds coming through train tracks, or peaking over the tops of gutters on old buildings. It has always amazed me that nature can take hold in places you wouldn’t expect.

Being an urbanite, it is easy to thing nature has been tamed within the city limits, and the wild and rugged side of nature is confined to the rural parts of the country. But the building I found in Wapping challenged this, and showed how Mother Nature can take root in the seemingly inhospitable or built environments.

I also found it interesting to see this derelict building with sprouting weeds and trees in amongst luxury flats and buildings. In an area of regeneration and luxury, this building is a (soon to be distant?) memory of the industrial past.

Whether we like it or not, Mother Nature doesn’t listen to the boundaries that humans place on her. Her presence is closer than we may think. If we turn away, even momentarily, her shoots sprout up through the cracks of concrete and human existence. In a subtle way, we are governed by her rules, rather than the other way around.

The derelict building in Wapping provides a wonderful contrast to the ordered and now posh surrounds we humans have created. The wild heart of Mother Nature beats, even through concrete and brick.

Photographing it in black & white seemed to do the shot justice. I could have coloured in the weeds, but thought it would take away from the industrial feel of the photo, and the contrast between nature and industry.

Living in a couple of capital cities, I have become accustomed to living in close proximity to political power and the buildings they inhabit. I have always found it interesting how nations express their political power and outlook through its buildings they live in.

I have lived much of my life in Ottawa, and had many visits to Parliament Hill. The Gothic buildings show the influence from Europe, but the statues and carvings show a distinctive Canadian flavour.

I have photographed the Hill many times over the years, and know the area very well. Most of my photos are in colour. However, the last time I was in Ottawa, I wanted to photograph it differently. While photographing the Museum of Civilization in Hull, Quebec, I was given the opportunity to see the Parliament Buildings, and Ottawa, in a different light.

The weather was cloudy and overcast, and I was taking photos of the Museum with b&w with a high ISO (aka fast film), and it dawned on me to start photographing Ottawa in much the same way. Previously, my photos were taken on slower film - either colour slide film (Fuji Velvia) or b&w film (Ilford). The reason was Ottawa is a very beautiful city and I wanted to capture it’s details.

However, with the weather the way it was, it made me look at Ottawa in a much more rugged, textural and tactile way. Looking across the Ottawa River, the Parliament Buildings dominated the skyline with the clouds making the view moody.

I could have taken the photos with my digital camera, but the pixelated photos wouldn’t give the textured feel grainy film would. The images I wanted to take were ones where the viewer could feel them, and digital pixels don’t feel in the same way as film grain does.

The resulting photos give the Parliament Buildings, Ottawa river and riverbank a less pristine and more punchy feel and look. They pushed my view of how to photograph the Parliament Buildings, and Ottawa for that matter.

This marked the beginning of a shift in my photography. The shift was rediscovering b&w film photography, and moving to the more textural and tactile. I hadn’t realised it at the time, nor noticed the beginnings of this in my previous work, but my current work has consciously explored this much more.