Waiting For The Cable To Drop

 

This is an old photograph, picked at random from the boxes and drawers of old photographs I live with. There is nothing special about it - I have no idea who Mac and Burbidge were - other than that it sums up everything I love about old photographs. I could no doubt feed it through an AI machine and it would come out looking clean and new ... and somehow false. It's the sepia patina of time that makes it special.

Temple To Steam

 

While we’re on the subject of ancient monuments (see yesterday’s post), what about this fine obelisk? Built as a temple to Steam, the god of industry, it was worshipped by thousands of acolytes who would gather in its shadow daily. Mill chimneys are the monolithic heads of West Yorkshire.

Them And Us

 

Down south, if they find a load of standing stones, they declare it an ancient monument and charge people £30 to look at it. Up north, we simply assume they're there to stop the cows from wandering out of the field.

Waves And Hills

 

I think this photograph of mine of Elland dates from the early 1980s, but I can't remember the exact date (oh, how I wish we had metadata back in those pre-digital days). The theme is timeless: waves of stone-clad industry washing up against the natural Pennine hills. I still travel up and down those steep roads several times a week. Timeless.

An Illustration

 

At what point does a photograph become an illustration? I'm not sure of the answer, but it probably has something to do with tones and lines. This illustration of Halifax Borough Market is based on a photograph I took last year. The simplicity of line and tone makes it look a little like something from a nineteenth century copy of The Illustrated London News. That, however, is a twenty-first century mobile phone shop on the right.

Happy Birthday

 

The Nature Of Reality And The Digital Dilemma

 

Yes, It Is Me

 

South Yorkshire Allegory

 

Postcard Law

 

The Churchyard