The very nature of photography, that ability to capture a moment and revisit it later, at another time, allows us to peer into a window to the past and observe that moment frozen, like a fly trapped in amber. When reflex cameras are used, the instant of snapping the picture is unseen to us, as the shutter release raises the mirror, blocking our view of the object. It is only after it has been processed that we can see the photograph, and the results are often unexpected. With rangefinder cameras, like the old Leica used in many of the photographs in this website, that instant is never concealed by the mechanism of the shot. Your mind’s eye registers the exact moment you choose to press the shutter and, in the processing that comes later, you seek affirmation in the film of that which you hoped to capture. Yet viewed from the distant perspective of time, the photograph takes on a quality of its own, you are no longer emotionally involved in its creation and a certain detachment occurs.
These photographs are a record of some things I have seen since I first began to use the camera as a framing tool in 1970. They are a subjective interpretation of topics that have concerned me over the years, such as loneliness in the urban landscape, the relationship between people and nature and the human footprint on our environment, transforming over the years, my own perception of the object of my gaze, to remain as still reminders of a single moment.
I hope you enjoy it.
