Having this week purchased additional gear to make the most of drawing and sketching on-site (as opposed to snapping photographs and sketches then working purely in my “studio”), I set out in the glorious sunshine to visit a few locations tagged earlier as “possible places to draw”. ---- All rights reserved. nd.com Read on...

First it was the roads

I am sure Britain’s drivers were conspiring against me. No matter where I tried to end up, something would spring up to bar my way. Inconsiderate parking, traffic queue, or simply no access to the particular area without a long walk (by long I’m talking a mile or more).

Two near collisions in the car later (people were mad this morning!), the sprinkling threat of rain showers, and the total obliteration of the initial good sunlight, forced me to head home in a stressed huff.

When the roads improved, the weather did not

I tried again later. This time heading to a particular church which now was in the closing stages of a wedding, with the accompanying hoards of cars removing all hope of gaining access. The light then failed once more.

This time, however, I did stop back at Maidenhead bridge for a little – and I have to say desperate – look around. Sadly, I could not “see” the drawings there, either. Perhaps all hope was lost on the day, so I returned home, in a double-huff.

Let it stew

I needed a task that was so straightforward that I could leave the day with having achieved something, anything. I opted for “watching some television”. I succeeded.

Determination (read: bloody-mindedness) kicked-in and I began pondering once more about those places I had visited. The detachment of time and geography allowed my mind to filter out the details and work purely on visual composition, contrast, and the image as a whole. A few spontaneous scribbles later and I had three strong potential compositions of and around Maidenhead bridge.

Too much information

I have this problem in supermarkets where on being sent to forage for a particular item, I fail to spot it in the cacophony of colours, shapes, and words. My brain struggles to filter out the noise to find the one detail I need.

Visiting a location to draw, I think I must have the same problem.

I should explain for the non-initiated: Rarely does a scene make for a good piece of art entirely as it stands. You know the phrase “artistic license”? Our minds work differently when looking at art compared to photography. Somehow, we understand a photograph represents a true capture of the scene. But far more consideration, particuary to composition, must be made in order to draw the same scene with success.

One must move a tree a little – for example – or remove it entirely. Perspective must be distorted, tonal values altered to increase contrast and represent depth. Thought must be applied to the focal points of the drawing, deciding what to leave in and what to leave out. Without these considerations, one might as well just have a photograph.

This is what I have learned today: I cannot simply turn up at a place and immediately “see” the means to render it artistically. I must visit, look, sketch, photograph, then allow all that information to simmer, allowing my mind and memory to let go of the details that are irrelevant to the scene, while enhancing those that matter (to me).

I suppose the devil really is in the details.

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I stand at one side of the gated entrance – the most interesting composition in that particular light – and peek up from my sketch pad at the church-goers passing before me in their cars after morning service. Some smile, others stare in bemusement (probably at my hat). ---- All rights reserved. nd.com Read on...

I sketch, car and foot traffic continues.

A family laden with flowers hunts out a gravestone, then huddles in clear grief at the sight of it. Within a few moments the initial reaction fades and they are snapping digital pictures of the large, white cross and themselves beside it as if it were the latest exciting addition to the Blackpool beach front.

Another car pulls up, parking just outside the gate. I see from the corner of my eye two figures peering in to the church grounds, then disappear behind the hedge heading for the entrance proper. Moments later they return, a cloud of expensive perfume leading the way. I sense they are heading straight for me.

“Can we borrow your pencil, we need to make a note of a number.” She asks with a tone that recommends I not refuse, and sporting an accent that suggests she can amply afford her cloud of perfume while still only purchasing it at the duty free en route to the twice annual vacation in Monaco.

Not one to be as rude as the person making such a request, I agree. Who knows, they may like the drawing and want to buy it: keep the punters happy (for now).

The husband appears. Marks & Spencer striped shirt and slacks. Interesting: not quite the available funds for a tailored shirt on a Sunday, so the Monaco trips are likely just to maintain the impression of wealth. He hands her a till receipt, the only piece of paper he can find, apparently.

“What’s the number?” She asks, poised to write while searching for something to rest on as she has only now realised I have given her a sturdy, metal mechanical pencil. The husband has forgotten the number, and heads off to find it again. She’s not entirely happy at the delay.

“Look at the state of this place. Isn’t it terrible that they don’t keep everything tidy.” (It was clearly no question.)

Me, having lost my only pencil, cannot simply continue to draw in an attempt to ignore the clearly irate woman. I look at the graveyard with its wispy long grass and wildflowers. In the morning sun it looks quite stunning. “I see a lot of graveyards like this.” I reply, being as non-committal to an opinion as possible.

“It’s disgusting. My mother’s buried over there,” she points to the rear of the church, “but with it looking like this I don’t think I want to go to see her grave. We have paid for a plot around the back there but I don’t think I want to be here now. We’ve come from a long way. My mother was married here, I was christened here. We telephoned to complain about the grounds before, they told us it was all to do with the butterflies. It’s in a terrible state. It used to be a lovely little church, quite unusual. Butterflies. They say they let the flowers grow for the butterflies. I think they just can’t be bothered.”

I am feeling the cloud of perfume, which has gratefully dissipated (not quite as expensive a product as it first appeared, perhaps), replaced with a cloud of agitated, middle-aged woman. My immediate reaction is to make it quite clear I am nothing to do with this church, just in case I become the target for a continued string of anger release. I should also note that I have not had the pencil returned to me as she clutches it still waiting the husband’s return from the telephone number quest.

She continues: “You are sketching [no shit, Sherlock] What will you do with that?”

“This is just a study for a larger, more finished piece.” I am tempted to say: Are you interested in a drawing of the church? I can make the grass look whatever height you prefer? But something warns me that even if I do manage a sale, she is never going to be satisfied and, frankly, at this point, the interruption to my concentration is threatening a sudden infliction of tourettes.

The husband returns, with the number. She makes a note of it on the receipt and finally returns the pencil (no thank you).

It is now his turn to rant: “We rung them up about this last time. They just don’t want to know.”

“We’re going to call them up again and complain.” She interjects. Why does she not simply pop into the church right then and speak to real people face-to-face? I wonder. “Thank you for the pencil.” OK, that’s a minor point in their favour at least. They turn and head back towards their car.

Just one pace, and the husband swings around to me once more, leaning in so as to stress whatever he is about to say, “They probably don’t have enough money. But they have plenty for the immigrants. Good day to you!” He barks then whirls to evade any response and marches to his car in the sure knowledge he has made his point and triumphed with the final word in an argument that that did not really exist outside his own head.

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Listen to this episode right here: Direct Download

MP expenses fracas
The MPs expenses fracas strengthens my resolve to avoid reading newspapers. Freedom of the press is fine until the media begins to deliberately attack and undermine individuals, in place of simply reporting the news. Once again we see the ogre of political motivation behind what should be simply the presentation of information

Persistent Spirit update
Waiting for the final installment of Table Rappers Persistent Spirit? Here’s a quick catch-up and some explanation as to why you are having to wait far longer than I ever anticipated.

A new video project
Could you be seeing me as well as listening in the near future? Possibly as I develop a new video show all around my creative passion for sketching and drawing. Something new, something different, and something I love doing. More info in this episode, and more still as the project develops over the coming weeks.

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There I was, scribbling away nothing more interesting (to most) than the view directly ahead of me, over the nearby tables and along the street towards Dénia’s port and town. About the same time, someone in the apartment block directly above decided to wash their balcony. ---- All rights reserved. nd.com Read on...

Several waves of tingling-cool water mist drifted down from above, much to our amusement. Some of it collected on my drawing, causing a few ink blobs and smudges. Did I care? Of course I did! But in a very positive way.

I can look at this quick sketch and remember that moment – it is captured, right there in the ink on that paper. The sketch is more than what I saw when looking along the street. It has captured something that would be almost impossible to record in any other visual way.

Not every sketch captures something quite as unique as this, of course. But each one contains more than merely some lines on a piece of paper. My mood, my thoughts at the time, for example, affect the speed of pen across paper, which changes the style of the lines and the textures of the tones.

Each sketch captures a brief period of time, broader than the fleeting moment of a photograph. The act of drawing imprints a stronger impression within my memory; it connects me with that unique experience.

Such subtle impressions may only ever be revealed to me, but I really sketch only for myself. If anyone else enjoys them, that’s a bonus!

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We regularly read cases where innocent individuals are, for want of a better word, bullied by Police officers into deleting photographs taken in public spaces. The justification seems to be Section 44 of the Terrorism Act, which many are reading as a legal control over what and where you can photograph in public. ---- All rights reserved. nd.com Read on...

Section 44

This section of the terrorism act has been criticised as giving the police all manner of power over public photography, but in fact, from a strictly legal perspective (and is not that what the Police are all about?) it is quite impotent. Here are the guidelines:

The Terrorism Act 2000 does not prohibit people from taking photographs or digital images in an area where an authority under section 44 is in place.  Officers should not prevent people taking photographs unless they are in an area where photography is prevented by other legislation.

In a recent BBC Radio 4 Law in Action program, the picture was clarified by Rupert Grey of media specialist law firm Swan Turton explained that Police may:

stop and search, look at what you have got and that is the limit of authority under that section. What appears to have been happening after that is they have, in some cases, arrested and then de-arrested the photographer. In other cases they have seized their material. In one case they deleted the material – and that is, in itself, a criminal offence.

This is encouraging for the legal rights of a photographer, and if a heavy-handed tactic is experienced, the law appears to be on our side. 

It is, however, a Police Officer’s interpretation of the law at the point of confrontation that is the most troublesome factor, however, and it seems from reports that some officers are either deliberately or ignorantly manipulating those ignorant of the law.

Section 43

This section, on the other hand, offers the Police far broader powers with regard to Terrorism. But it is not all bad. Again, from the Police guidelines:

If officers reasonably suspect that photographs are being taken as part of hostile terrorist reconnaissance, a search under section 43 of the Terrorism Act 2000 or an arrest should be considered.  Film and memory cards may be seized as part of the search, but officers do not have legal power to delete images or destroy film.  Although images may be viewed as part of a search, to preserve evidence when cameras or other devices are seized, officers should not normally attempt to examine them.  Cameras and other devices should be left in the state they were found and forwarded to appropriately trained staff for forensic examination.  The person being searched should never be asked or allowed to turn the device on or off because of the danger of evidence being lost or damaged.

There are two very interesting elements to this, particularly that Officers are directed to not normally attempt to examine equipment for fear of damaging evidence, even so far as not turning a device on or off. Section 43 does permit the confiscation of equipment, storage devices such as memory cards in particular, and to be retained for up to 48hrs and for up to 96hrs with the authority of a Chief Inspector.

There is one element of Section 43 that is worthy of note. Section 43 can only be used when there is “reasonable suspicion that the person is a terrorist”, which, though it sounds open to interpretation, is going to tie the Officer up in a mountain of paperwork – hence the far more commonly used Section 44. 

It is not as bad as it looked

There is clearly no legal right for a Police Officer to insist or request that any images are deleted, or that a photographer simply stops recording images. If they want to stop you under Section 44, then they also have no right of confiscation, just the right to examine images taken. Of course, the aggravation of going through the whole process is bad enough, regardless of the outcome, and it seems the incidents that have been reported boil down to a lack of understanding of the real rights of everyone involved.

There’s nothing new here, but with my photography ambitions aiming in a particular direction, this has now become relevant to me. I hope I’ll never need to draw on this knowledge, and I do hope I’ll not be at the wrong end of a Police officer without a clear understanding of my legal rights.

The official guidelines on Stop and Search in relation to terrorism
A lawyer’s point of view on Section 44

A question about sketching

The last burst of panic over these laws recently, specifically over rights regarding photographing the Police, get me thinking about other forms of image capture. Could a drawing, one which holds a recognisable image of Police and public buildings, for example, fall foul of the same laws? I am planning on putting that to the test!

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What’s wrong with Molesknes for sketching? The very uniform and predictable paper – which is either a little too heavy or a little too thin depending on the notebook. When sketching, I prefer texture in the paper, to feel the pen or pencil scraping across its surface. Moleskine papers take ink and pencil beautifully, but the experience of drawing with them lacks that tactile pleasure. ---- All rights reserved. nd.com Read on...

In recent times I have been using a good quality, acid free cartridge paper, which though ideal, is more akin to finished drawings than simply something to carry around with the purpose of scribbling in.

Then, whilst doing a little research into the possibility of creating a video podcast show about sketching, I came across some very unique, hand-made sketchbooks. These leather-bound books are loaded with hand-made paper – and that was the attraction. Hand made paper is unpredictable. It adds character and expression to lines and shading, and brings the drawing experience alive.

The interesting part of these books is that they are ethically produced. The paper is made by hand with all natural products, and since they are cloth and rag papers, no chemicals are used and they will not yellow with age.

Even the leather covers are “ethical”, being, as the maker describes:

…exclusively water-buffalo hides, cow hides, and goatskins from mature animals that have come to the end of their working life. No animals are bred and slaughtered solely for the purpose of producing leather for my books

I have to admit to it being a rather odd experience. In a society where polish, finish, and precision mass manufacturing are the norm, these books are an odd yet very satisfying change. My sketchbook does not even smell like a new book! It smells like a book that has been in my hands for years. I will not lie and have to admit it will take some adjustment to fully embrace this kind of product.

Next on the list to buy? A black-stained book for watercolour sketching (I love the deckled paper edges in particular, and this would compliment to my current book which has paper not best suited to wet media), a set of delightful smaller notebooks, and these reproduction Edwardian artists sketchbooks. Yes, I could spend a lot of money on these!

I am posting work from this sketchbook on a new SketchBlog.

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A short outing to Weyland’s Smithy (an ancient burial site) yesterday resulted not in great photos of the barrow itself, but what we found when wandering around nearby. ---- All rights reserved. nd.com Read on...

Much of my fail yesterday was due to not spending enough time learning (or rather re-learning) how to handle an SLR again, particularly one with a prime lens. My shots were taken too hastily, so those with a specific intent simply failed to capture what I wanted to portray at the barrow itself. Lesson learned.

I try to take shots that are more than merely images, that might trigger you, for just a brief moment, to wonder what might be going on or what might happen next. A shot that demands you to pause and consider it for a moment before moving on – that is what I am trying to achieve. Two of the three below manage that effectively, for me at least. Does any one do the same for you?

In one respect the intent did not fail. As ever, in addition to taking photos, I love to sit and sketch a location. Here is the results of yesterday’s sketching. This, at least, is the successful capture of the barrow, and for me, a more personal and involved image from that visit.

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The Prelude Episode of the first TableRappers book, Persistent Spirit, is now available for you to listen to and download.

You can listen to the episode right on tablerappers.com by clicking the triangular play button at the top of the right-hand column.

To be sure of getting the latest episodes as soon as they are released, use the RSS Feed to add TableRappers to your podcatching software, or iTunes to get it on your iPod.

Persistent Spirit Chapter One, will be released January 2008

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There are times when you would sell your gran for a big lens! Yes, It was a real live one.

Waiting for a train was uploaded by neil… via flickr.

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As well as recording what I need to do, I have lately taken to recording what I’ve done. I keep a basic journal (in a Mori document) of what I’ve been doing each day (work-wise), who I’ve spoken to, when, why, and the resulting action if necessary. It helps sift through the noise sometimes… so many conversations. So imagine how helpful it would be to add a journal note concerning an email received or sent and be able to directly link from the journal to the email itself.

What I have discovered is that MailTags (mentioned previously here) does something similar when you use it to create an iCal event or task which is related to an email. It uses it’s own message:// protocol which when clicked in iCal, immediately pops up the related email message in Mail. Sweet. You must have MailTags installed- a plugin to Mail.app – for the message:// protocol to work.

Then came along this tip at Mac OSX Hints: Get Mail message IDs via AppleScript and MailTags
The hint contains a small AppleScript which utilises the MailTags’ message:// protocol to generate a message’s unique ID and make it an active, clickable link. The AppleScript was a little useless in itself as it only seemed to open the currently selected mail message, so with some minor tweaking I reworked it to build the unique email ID and copy the generated URI to the clipboard. Now all I need do is have the required email message selected in Mail, pop over to my Mori journal, trigger the AppleScript, then paste the generated link into the journal page. Clicking on the link, immediately pops up the associated email message, thus connecting the journal entry to the email.

Here’s the script:

tell application “Mail”
set theSelectedMessages to selection
set the selected_message to item 1 ¬
of the theSelectedMessages
set message_id to the message id of the selected_message
end tell

set message_url to “message://” & message_id
set the clipboard to message_url

Now if only I can do a similar thing to directly connect a journal entry to someone in AddressBook.

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