Cathedral Of Commerce

 

An early colour photograph of mine (note the pre-decimal currency) and one where the exposure left a lot to be desired. What it lacks in technique, it makes up a little for in atmosphere and in the light from the windows of that cathedral of commerce, Halifax's Borough Market.

The Valley

 

I half painted this picture, which I am calling "The Valley." It was an exercise I undertook with the grandchildren to try and avoid the dreaded screen-time, and their paintings - even the two-year-old's - were far better than mine. So I cheated: I photographed the pre-primitive "Art Brut" and set to work with some Photoshop filters. The result will see out March, if nothing else.

Forever Gaumont

 

To me, it is, and has always been, the Gaumont Cinema. It’s had other names and been other things, but even today I would probably still refer to it as the Gaumont. The surprising thing is that it has only had that name for a comparatively short period of its 113 year history; for just twelve years from 1948 until 1960. The other surprising thing is that it ceased being a cinema so early – by 1962, shortly before I took this photo, it had become a bingo hall.

The Edit

 

This is what I do. As I get older and my bones get wearier, I seem to spend more and more time sitting at my desk watching my past life flash in front of me in a series of digital edits. I'm not complaining; it's a pleasant enough existence: as I move on, I take my memories with me, and, like any keen photographer, I edit them as I go.

A Pint, A Course And A Castle

 

I will always have fond memories of Wentworth Castle near Barnsley, back in the 1980s when Northern College was first established there under the legendary Michael Barratt Brown. Many are the conferences I've attended there, many the courses I've taught there, many the pints I've enjoyed in the bar there or the nearby Strafford Arms. 

The Light Of Day

 

This is a photograph of mine from the late 1970s of St Peter's Square in Manchester. It dates back to the period when limitations on time and money meant that I was very selective about which photographs I ever printed off, and, to the best of my knowledge, this particular photo has not seen the light of day before today.

Tram Shelter On Broadway

 

Back in the first decade of the twentieth century, picture postcards were the Facebook Posts of their day, and an almost endless supply of images was created so they could have messages attached to them, stamps stuck to them, and postcard albums filled with them. Imagine the excitement in Rochdale when a new picture of the tram shelter on Broadway became available. My Great Aunt Eliza went straight out and bought one - and here it is now.

Halifax From The Hill

 

I spend far too many hours messing around with Photoshop filters, but it keeps me out of mischief, and occasionally I come up with something that has added value as an image. This view of Halifax from Beacon Hill is a case in point: tones and shades have been sacrificed so that attention can be focused on line and shape. Zoom in, and you get a monochrome maze of both the familiar and the unexpected.

The One On The Right Has It

 

As a photographer myself, I've always been fascinated by photographs of photographers. In the first place, there is a rarity value to them: we are the ones who take the photos, not feature in them (perhaps this is why we become photographers!). Secondly, I'm on the lookout for that look, common to all photographers as they appraise a scene, looking for angles and seeking out compositions. The one on the right has it.

Roads And Rain-mates

 

My photograph dates back to 1968, and although the original was in black and white (I couldn't afford colour film back in those days), I've added a touch of colour just for the fun of it. It shows Bradford Road in Brighouse before the days of the Ludenscheid Link, when wagons would race past Blakebrough's Social Club and shoppers would protect their perms with plastic Rain-mates.

The Nail Biter

 

This lady, along with a couple of cherubs, can be found in a corner of one of the rooms in Bankfield Museum, Halifax. I visited her the other day, had a chat, and took her photograph. I think she welcomed the company - it was a slow Wednesday afternoon and there weren't that many people around, and, as you can see, she has a tendency to bite her fingernails when she gets bored.

Ivy And The Celebrity Ladies Orchestra

 

When I was young, my Auntie Annie would tell me tales of her cousin Ivy, who played in an all-women's band. I never met Ivy, and her side of the family remained a mythical branch located far away on the other side of the Pennines. A few years ago, I received a box of old family photographs from someone who traced me through Ancestry, and there amongst them was a picture of Ivy (second from left) and her Celebrity Ladies Orchestra.

When Markets Were Markets

 

This photograph comes from the same strip of negatives as the one I featured yesterday and, we now know - thanks to research by Paul Hartley and Michael Horsfield - was taken back in 1967/68. It shows the old Brighouse Market, not far from where the bus station is today. This was back in the day when markets were markets (corrugated steel and light bulbs hanging by a wire), men were men (donkey jackets and flat caps) and women carried bags big enough to hold a stone of potatoes.

Time Extinguisher

 

I've tried to make up for the lack of a precise date on this photograph of mine by going back to the archives of the Milk Marketing Board to discover when this "Thirst Extinguisher" advert was current. No success so far, but perhaps the Bedford van and the three wheeled car are better clues. My guess is that we are being transported back to the late 1960s. "Photography - Time Extinguisher"

Domino Run

 

I took this photograph getting on for twenty years ago. It shows Cowcliffe Hill Road plunging down towards a suitably undefined Huddersfield. It's that row of terraced houses that captures the attention: stone-slate dominoes lined up, ready to tumble.

Skegness Rock

 

You can cut this picture up into a dozen pieces, and each one will have Skegness running through it. It will have a bracing wind blowing sand up from the North Sea beaches, it will have slot machines and dodgem cars, plastic buckets, and caravan parks. A bargain bundle for only one pound.

Edwardian AI

 

This early twentieth century picture postcard image of the approach to Halifax Railway Station has the look of something that has been created by a cut-price AI image colourising programme. It wasn't; it was created by the Edwardian equivalent, a cut-price studio assistant with instructions to make the hills green, the sky blue, and the horses look happy. It wasn't true, of course, but anyone who has been within a hundred miles of Halifax will instantly recognise the scene.

Real People, Real Lives

 

Whilst photographs may start out life as things that are intensely personal - this is Aunty Vera, this is our holiday - after a century or more pressed in an album and becoming sepia with age and neglect, they become things of interest to us all. The scene, the clothes, who is there (and who isn't): this is the stuff of history. These are not idealised portraits of kings and potentates; these are real people living real lives a century ago.

Just Messing

 

Why do we take photographs? Despite a lifetime of taking them, I am no closer to finding an answer. It's partly about wanting to capture a moment or maybe share a visual thought, but that is only part of the answer. I was walking the dog yesterday and stopped to take a photograph. "What are you doing?" she asked as she sniffed a leftover slice of pizza near a rubbish bin. "Just messing", I replied.

Three For The Price Of One

 

I wanted something cheery for Friday the 13th - there is enough bad luck and misery going on around us at the moment without me adding to it. We also have a Sepia Saturday prompt this week that features family groups, so here is my brother (left), my mother, and I (I'm the cute one on the donkey). And as we are approaching Mother's Day, this is for you, Gladys. Happy, family, and mother: three for the price of one.

Nostalgia Noir

 

I can vaguely remember taking this photograph of Broad Street in Halifax from what must have been the top of the Bowling Alley in the late 1960s. It was back in the days of slow films and fast cars. You'd have to acquire a special Photoshop filter to get such crude results from even the most challenged smartphone today. They'd probably call the filter "Nostalgia Noir".

Mondrian's Market

 

Black and white, light and dark: Bradford's new Darley Street Market seemed to present photo opportunities with all the enthusiasm of an overstocked trader's stall. There were loads of straight lines - Piet Mondrian goes to Market - but there was also a slightly bleached quality to it, almost as though Hockney himself had visualised it.

Do Seagulls Screech In Cleethorpes?

 

Whenever I look back at the photos I took in Cleethorpes in the 1980s, I am reminded of the trauma caused by the gradual loss of my hearing during that decade. For whatever reason, I seemed to be drawn to open spaces, to that hinterland between land and sea where vision was king and hearing didn't matter. No doubt the seagulls screech in Cleethorpes, but I never heard them.

Hope

 

Yes, it's a bit dark, but the world is a bit dark at the moment. The question has to be: are the steps leading us into or out of the darkness? I took the photograph on Hope Hall Terrace in Halifax. Enough said.