What's In The Parcel?

 

This is a picture of my Uncle John and Auntie Doris, taken 75 years ago. I have lived with this picture all of my life - seeing it as a child, sticking out of crumbling photo albums; as an adult, confined to cardboard boxes of family memories; and as an old man, where it has become an exercise in scanning and saving. One unanswered question has stayed with me all that time: what on earth was in that brown paper parcel?

Faique News

 

When I was in Anglesey a couple of weeks ago, I was reminded of those wonderful paintings by Alfred I. Faique. He managed to capture the very essence of the coast so well, which must surely be a sign of a masterly artist.

Smokescreen

 

A photograph of mine from back in the days when smoke and steam swept through the ginnels and industrial waste dyed the becks and brooks. It was taken from Old Lane in Halifax, looking towards the then-mighty Crossley's Carpets Mill. Most of the buildings still exist - the smoke and the steam are long gone.

Under The Tram-Lines

 

I'm quite fond of this photo of mine - fond of the combination of brutal straight lines and sensuous curves, and fond of the way your eye is taken on a tram-ride of a journey through the scene.

Let's Face It, AI

AI-driven image restoration programmes are undoubtedly getting more sophisticated, and their use is clearly much more widespread than in the past. However, I still have reservations about how they treat faces. That little extra smoothing and additional touch of colour too often seem to change a recognisable face into something indistinct and slightly foreign. Interestingly, my AI-driven facial recognition software failed to recognise the AI-rendered restored image of Uncle Harry in today's photograph.

Industrial Memories

 

My less-than-comprehensive negative filing system has this one listed as "Industry, Sheffield, 1980". I have a vague memory of taking the photograph, so I shall call it "Industrial Memories". I like a good chimney, whether it be a West Yorkshire mill or a South Yorkshire chemical works. Give me a good chimney and a bit of smoke, and I'll take a picture.

Pub Of The Week - MacSorley's, Glasgow

 

This week, my selfless and altruistic campaign to keep the great British pub in business took me north across the border to Glasgow. It was, of course, necessary to sample a good few contenders, but my nomination for Pub of the Week goes to MacSorley's on Jamaica Street. Built on the site of a former pub at the end of the nineteenth century, it is today famous for live music on most nights of the week. It's a pub like a pub should be.

In Search Of Art

There sometimes comes a point when old photographs become more than just a historical record or a family memory and instead blossom into works of art in their own right. Sometimes this is obvious; other times you have to search for it within the very fabric of the image. Once found, the effort is always worth the time spent.

Glasgow Days

 

Some years ago, I acquired a small collection of glass negatives - photographs taken in and around Glasgow between the early 1920s and the mid-1930s. Today’s image comes from that collection and shows the University of Glasgow and Kelvingrove Park. It feels especially fitting, because I’m travelling up to Glasgow today to spend a few days in the city.

Shoulder Of Mutton

 

In a single handed attempt to save the fortunes of that threatened institution, the British Pub, I have decided to embark on a series of visits to public houses. Where better to start than the splendid Shoulder of Mutton in Northowram, the village where I grew up? Spreading over three adjoining buildings, parts of the pub date back to the early seventeenth century, and it also incorporates the eighteenth century Priestley Hall. 

Memory Road

 

This is a scene I am so familiar with that I can almost physically feel its presence just by looking at a photograph. And it doesn't matter that it was taken half a century before I crossed this road - on my way to school, to the bus, to visit friends - or that many of the buildings have changed and some no longer exist. I can still look at this photo and see my future. I can still walk along this road today and feel my past.