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North Dorset I have a number of expressions that confirm to me that the photograph is ready to be made. One of them is ‘just so’. I am sure many of my distinguished colleagues will identify with something similar. I well remember waiting for some soft light to sweep across the three bales. Finally it did so and left a narrow shadow underneath each. That glorious, much longed for moment provided me with my ‘just so’ moment and the commitment was made. It is when my photograph appears to finally become ‘just so’ with all the apparent disparate elements coalescing and with my criteria that lies behind the decision to commit becoming fully satisfied. Perhaps it is not dissimilar from a composer finding that elusive melody. This aspect of the creative process absolutely fascinates me, and always has, and anything that falls short of that aspiration can be quite saddening. |
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Lucignano d’Asso, Tuscany To either side of the Via Cassia, which runs from Siena to Rome, there is a network of unpaved roads, each known as a strada bianca. There must be many hundreds of kilometres of these white roads and you can always tell who lives along one of them, as their cars are usually coated with a dusting of fine white powder. Farmers, who, over the centuries, became accustomed to working in this lumpy landscape, habitually used the roads. For very many years I have explored these tracks, and I have become fond of one in particular: the road to Lucignano D’Asso, a hamlet near Asciano. I had seen this chapel several times, always in harsh sunlight, which created too much contrast at the end of the day. On an unusually chilly spring morning, I found it virtually shadowless, as I had hoped. But what lies behind my love for this modest little place? The two tired-looking cypress trees have been planted unusually close to the chapel and the orange door was new since I was here last. After packing up, I tried the door of the chapel. It was locked. I would have liked to have gone in and sat for a while. You could say this photograph of Lucignano d’Asso holds the same special mystery for me as it might for the spectator, neither of us knows what is inside. |