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By admin, November 26, 2011 2:07 pm

A little worried after looking at my last few posts that my loyal readers might think I am a sucker for the clichéd sunset. I’m not. So I think a disclaimer might be in order. Something to the effect that other meterological conditions are available, and that your sanity is at risk if you do not keep up repayments on the many other things that happen before you all the time.

That should do it. Let’s have a little stillness and fog to celebrate:

Foggy dawn. Forest Row, East Sussex. September 2011. Photo: © Michael Cockerham 2011

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By admin, November 25, 2011 8:56 pm

Been a strange couple of days. Yesterday I found myself dangling from the jib of a crane above south east London – something I quite enjoy. It’s starting to dawn on me, though, that I may not be normal. The site manager described me as “ice-cold calm”, before announcing that he would be feeling the polar opposite if it was him. The view was breathtaking, and I was able to get the shots I had been commissioned to take.

Had a whole load of big commissions book in over the last couple of days too, with my printer working over time, and good news from one of my best clients about use of one of my images – watch this space.

Today I found myself scurrying around under the tracks of the Southend Cliff Railway working for a different client. As I returned to my car I was presented with one of those wonderful moments that nature gives you from time to time. A sunset behind low cloud that was just thick enough to allow you to look straight at it, and just thin enough that you could still see the disc of the sun as it slipped beneath the horizon. And in it were at least a thousand shades of orange.

Sunset, Southend-on-sea, Essex. November 25, 2011. Photo: © Michael Cockerham 2011

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By admin, October 3, 2011 12:54 pm

A little while back I posted a photograph and commented on the fact that from time to time your gut tells you to trip the shutter and you get something you weren’t quite expecting. Well it happened to me again yesterday. My wife and I decided to take our boys to Minnis Bay on the north Kent coast in the late afternoon for a spot of paddling, sandcastle building and fish and chips. By way of an aside, if anyone had ever suggested to me that I would be paddling barefoot on the Kent coast while wearing shorts and a t-shirt at 7pm in October I would have said they were barking – still, I suppose it is in our nature: a bit of decent sun and mad dogs and Englishmen come out to play!

Anyway, as the sun set and the tide ebbed away, I turned from the carcass of my cod and chips to see the beautiful colours of the evening on the sand. Something said grab your camera, so I did, dropping to one knee for the angle. I tripped the shutter. I had not even seen the girl walking across the sands, but she chose that instant to leap. I have no idea who she is, or why she jumped, but it sums up a fabulous weekend of unexpectedly good weather nonetheless.

Sunset at Minnis Bay, Kent. Fuji X100. October 2, 2011. Photo: © Michael Cockerham 2011

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By admin, September 2, 2011 3:25 pm

For the first three weeks of his life, Phineas was a model baby, but on the Thursday night of that third week something changed. By six o’clock in the morning his mother was sure that all was not as it should be. She took him to the local hospital A&E (Accident & Emergency department). Unknown to her, that particular A&E had recently gone to a twelve hour opening as a prelude to being closed altogether. As a consequence there was only an on-call GP. His verdict? “It’s just a virus, take him home. He’ll be fine.” Up to a point he was right.

Three hours later Phineas’ mother trusted her instincts and took him to another hospital to get a second opinion. He was admitted immediately.

Phineas in the intensive care unit at ECH, May 2010. Photo: © Michael Cockerham 2010

What followed was a battle to save his life and diagnose the problem. By the Sunday afternoon his condition had deteriorated so much that he was retrieved to the Paediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU) of the Evelina Children’s Hospital in Central London.

Phineas’ Friends is a photographic study of the doctors and nurses and clinicians that were involved in treating him during his six days at the Evelina. It is a study that forces the reader to challenge naturally held preconceptions about the size of modern medical teams, and indirectly asks the question: if all these people are necessary to a treat one baby with an infection, who in this new age of austerity can we afford to do without?

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Phineas is my third son. His mother, Laura, is my wife. Any parent who has ever asked a doctor if their child is going to die, and been met with a long pause and a non-committal answer, will have some idea of the emotions that were raging for us at that time. We were lucky. Although his condition was life threatening, he was in the best hands. Laura travelled to ECH in the retrieval ambulance with Phineas. By the time I got there the PICU team were hard at work stabilising him, and Laura, though still beside herself with worry, was comforted with the feeling that he was in the best place to get better.

Fatima Meho. Paediatric Staff Nurse, Beach Ward. Provided nursing care for Phineas on the ward. Photo: © Michael Cockerham 2010

The doctors in PICU were able to stabilise him sufficiently that he was moved out of intensive care onto Beach Ward on the Monday afternoon. From then on it was about supporting him as he got better, and trying to establish exactly what was wrong with him.

From the outset the doctors were fairly certain that he had a viral infection. The problem was that without knowing which virus, it was difficult to know exactly how he should be treated. At his worst Phineas had been cannulated to all four peripheries, his blood sugar was perilously low, his temperature was dangerously and stubbornly high, and he was on a CPAP (continuous positive airway pressure) machine to help him breathe. He was having bloods taken every hour or so, he had chest x-rays, and at one point they attempted to put a long line into him because his blood sugar was still dropping and he was on the limit of what could be given to him as a peripheral infusion without burning his veins.

Laura never left the hospital, only leaving his bedside to wash and eat. Over time it became clear that he was improving, but still the tests continued. Lumbar punctures, electro-encaphalographs, ultrasound brain scans. More infusions, more drugs.

Dr Emma Aarons. Consultant Virologist. Ensures any patient with possible viral illness has the right investigations, and where tests show viral diagnosis that the appropriate care is given. Photo: © Michael Cockerham 2010

On the Wednesday afternoon I was sitting with Phineas while Laura got some lunch. Staff nurse Fatima Meho was attending to him while I flicked through that week’s Sunday Times Magazine. The cover story was about a patient in the renal ward at Great Ormond Street Hospital. I held the magazine open for Fatima to see and remarked how ironic it was that the story should be published just I was sitting in Beach Ward (the Evelina’s renal ward) with my son. “No one ever writes about us,” Fatima replied. I asked her what the difference was between Great Ormond Street and the Evelina. “Nothing,” she said. Both hospitals have the same specialisations, only the former is world famous and leverages that fame effectively to raise funds. I have to admit that I had never heard of the Evelina until I needed it.

It was Fatima’s response which set me thinking that I should document Phineas’ story and get some publicity for the hospital. But what was the angle? I did not want to rehash a story that has been done many times before. The fact was that although it was important to me, it was not significant to anyone else. If I was going to publish his story, it needed an angle.

The following afternoon Laura and I got a visit from three doctors from the Infectious Diseases Directorate. At first I was struck by how different these three characters were. Nuria Martinez-Alier, Ian Plumb and Emma Aarons seemed at first an unlikely trio, but it quickly made me reflect on all the different characters we had come across during Phineas’ time in hospital. Not simply the diversity of characters, but the sheer numbers of people involved. I had my angle.

Dr Marilyn MacDougall. Paediatric Intensive Care Consultant. On-call when Phineas was admitted to PICU, she made the decision to retrieve him. Authorised the retrieval team and responsible for his initial treatment. Photo: © Michael Cockerham 2010

Over those six days Phineas was treated by about one hundred clinical specialists, about four fifths of them at the Evelina. There were doctors, consultants, registrars, nurses, matrons, ward sisters, students, phlebotomists, radiographers, metabolic specialists, virologists, and these were just the ones that actually saw him. There were as many, if not more, clinical scientists and technicians analysing and interpreting the various tests he was subjected to and samples taken from him. There was the ambulance technician and the retrieval team who collected and treated him on the journey to the Evelina. There was the counsellor who was there for us as parents.

As a photographer I found myself thinking about all the hidden talents within this huge team of people – the unsung men and women whose work as technicians and scientists underpin the decisions that the doctors make and the nurses carry through. The doctors get the plaudits, but the reality is that all these different facets of modern medicine need to work together to produce the outcomes that we as patients and parents yearn and pray for.

The more I thought about all these people, the more I kept thinking about Richard Avedon’s seminal work The Family, and more recently of Nadav Kander’s Obama’s People. Both these projects used portraits shot against plain backgrounds to highlight the differences in character – the repetition of style and of people was the motif, and yet it is this approach that highlights the enormous differences from subject to subject.

Tom Walton. Biomedical Scientist. Analysis of urine by gas chromatography and mass spectroscopy. Photo: © Michael Cockerham 2010

It is a form of typological study that was perhaps made famous by Bernd and Hilla Becher and their studies of blast furnaces, and taken up by other photographers including Donovan Wylie and his study of the Maze Prison. The difference is that with people the subject has the capacity to introduce its own character and agenda to the way that they are recorded; it is necessarily a two-way process. Certainly these are “my” portraits and they reflect something of my intention, but as each individual sits for me, they have control over the face that they present. For a good portrait there must inevitably be a balance in that “dialogue” between the subject and the photographer.

Avedon chose to shoot in large format black and white, with a simple white background. His subjects were the men and women who ran and shaped America. From Gerald Ford as President to Roger Baldwin, the founder of the American Civil Liberties Union.

Kander chose to use a similar approach to document the nascent administration of Barack Obama as he was about to take office, but in this case he shot in colour, with a creamy background. The images have been digitally worked to some extent, putting a shadow close in behind each person, and emphasising the texture of each person. There is a kind of hyper reality about them which makes each face fascinating to look at. Although the work was regarded by some as something of a departure from Kander’s norm at the time, it was nevertheless imbued with his artistic sensibilities. It had his “signature”.

Sean Hayes. Retrieval Technician. Part of the retrieval team that brought Phineas back to the Evelina PICU from Darent Valley Hospital. Photo: © Michael Cockerham 2010

Both of these bodies of work were successful for the combination of simple, arresting portraiture and the fact that the subjects were either household names, or held positions of power that made their faces worthy of closer inspection.

For Phineas’ Friends I felt certain that a similar approach would be ideal. To the best of my knowledge no one had taken this approach with a medical documentary before, and the strength of the story would reside in the fact that as the reader moved through all of these portraits it would dawn on them that the common link for all of them was a single patient – a baby. None of these people are famous, nor was the patient. But the pull of such a small child as a narrative element is undeniable. Perhaps more importantly, we are all able to see ourselves in that baby. And when we do Phineas’ friends become our’s. These are our doctors and nurses and technicians and scientists. These are the people that keep each of us alive if we need them. As Phineas is a metaphor for all patients, so too his friends are a metaphor for all the clinicians working in all the hospitals around the world. Once we realise that, the old narrative beloved of dramas and documentaries seems a pale approximation of the truth – modern medicine is not a doctor and a nurse, it is a vast team of specialists.

Habiba Kawu. Neonatal Staff Nurse. Agency nurse providing constant care and monitoring of Phineas' condition while in intensive care. Photo: © Michael Cockerham 2010

Nevertheless I was conscious that for the project to work, the standard of the portraits needed to be high. Each image had to work individually while they all worked together as a set. The choice of background, the style of lighting, the choice of lens, and the subtlety of any direction I gave would have to complement the image and the intent. I wanted very much to give viewers something of the experience of the parent or the concerned relative. Hopefully I have succeeded.

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I decided on a whim to enter the book of Phineas’ Friends in this year’s Photography Book Now Awards. Although it did not win, it was shortlisted in the Documentary Category, and as a result was eligible for the People’s Choice Award. To have been shortlisted by the jury in the first place is a tremendous honour. But more importantly it gave me a glorious reason to push the work in front of people as I tried to garner all the votes I could. I was able to enlist the help of a great many influential people around the world, and that in itself has helped in my quest to raise the profile of the hospital. All of you who voted, thank you. Your support means a great deal. But it does not end there.

As I intimated earlier, my motivation from the outset has been to help publicise the work of the Evelina and perhaps raise its profile just a bit. As a part of that process, Blue Filter has published Phineas’ Friends in three formats: as an iBook for the iPad and iPhone, as a small format paperback, and as a limited edition signed hardback. All of these can be ordered from this site, and the profits from the sale of these books will be donated to the Evelina Children’s Hospital.

Please, buy the iBook or the paperback. If you are feeling flush and want some exclusivity, buy the hardback. But whatever you do, encourage all your friends, family and acquaintances to read this post and buy the iBook too. If you just want to donate with nothing in return, you can do that as well.

*    *    *    *

Buy the iBook for iPhone & iPad

Buy the paperback

Buy the limited edition hardback

If you would like to support the Evelina Children’s Hospital, some of the Evelina Team recently undertook a sponsored climb up Mount Kilimanjaro, and you can still donate now. Their target was £400,000, with the current total raised standing at £396,616.63. It is to this fund that monies raised from the sales of Phineas’ Friends will be donated, but if you would rather donate directly, please click here.

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By admin, July 27, 2011 8:32 am

I don’t know about you, but every now and then a little voice in my head says “Shoot! Now!”

I had such a moment last week. Just finished a job, was standing on the Overground platform at Whitechapel, the train was pulling in and that little voice commanded, so I did as I was told. Not sure what it is, but there is something rather compelling about this image. For me at least.

A chance expression and perfect frame with a curious quality to the light. Photo: © Michael Cockerham 2011

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By admin, June 4, 2011 10:14 pm

In November 2009 I wrote a post bemoaning the absence of a decent compact camera on the market. If you don’t fancy reading it the gist was that all the offerings then available were marketed at people that were not professional photographers, by which I meant that they were too fussy to use, and the image quality was simply not good enough for anything other than small simple prints. In other words, for people who make their living from selling images either commercially or socially there was no option other than to lug around an SLR all the time if you wanted to be ready for those fleeting moments, which just isn’t feasible or desirable. So I wrote an open letter to the R&D departments of all the major manufacturers with a ten-point wish-list for my ideal compact. In short, these were:

• A high quality fixed lens, equivalent to about 35mm focal length on a 35mm full frame camera, with a maximum aperture of f2 or greater.
• A simple dial on the top plate to select one of four modes: M(anual), A(perture priority), S(hutter priority), P(rogram)
• A shutter release button, which is firm and requires some pressure to trigger.
• A reasonable grip for largish hands, with a thumb dial to control the shutter speed, and a finger dial to control the aperture.
• A view finder.
• Two file options: RAW and top quality jpeg.
• An 8 megapixel sensor of a sufficient size that the images can be used commercially if necessary.
• A simple reliable exposure meter to power the auto modes – something as reliable as the meter in my old Nikon F3 would be nice.
• A small LCD display on the top plate that tells me the shutter speed and aperture selected, how many frames I have taken and have left, and a readout of the remaining battery power.
• It actually needs to be compact but well built.

The curious thing about that post was that all the response I had from it, both in posted comments and off-line conversations, was negative: “it can’t be done”, “there wouldn’t be the demand”, “fairy tales are no longer commercially viable”. Rather than supporting my open request, fellow photographers were distinctly pessimistic, so much so that I started to wonder if I was being a bit of a prat in even mooting the idea. As a result you can imagine the pleasure I had in posting news that the Fujifilm X100 had been announced at Photokina in September of last year – on my birthday in fact! But it is only recently that I have started to look at how close the X100 is in its spec to my wish-list: the lens is exactly what I asked for, as are the file options, the inclusion of a good usable viewfinder, the build quality, the sensor size, and the exposure meter. More tellingly, I had based my requests for thumb and finger wheels and a mode dial on what I thought was the most we could get out of manufacturers, but Fuji exceeded my demands by giving us an aperture dial around the lens, and a simple shutter speed dial on top. Not only that, but the sensor is higher resolution with astonishing low light capability. I am not suggesting for a moment that Fuji made the X100 because of my post (although Fuji, if I had even the slightest impact on your decision making, thank you!), but given that I made the request publicly, I really felt that I had no option but to put my money where my mouth is… so I did.

Mass communication: Jesus spreads his word surrounded by telecommunications masts. Summit of Mount Toro. May 30, 2011. Fuji X100. 1/55 @ f8 with ND filter ISO 200. Spot metered. © Michael Cockerham

The launch of the X100 has been met with fanfare, demand, and levels of comment that far exceeded Fuji’s expectations. I hate to say I told you so to my naysayers, but… hell no: I told you so!

In an age of mass communication it is astonishing how often the message can get lost, and the problem has been that its retro styling and unquestionable similarity to early Leica rangefinders has created an internet based Chinese whisper. It may have been launched as a high end compact, but that is not the way many perceive it and as a result their expectations are being warped.

Like many I read the early reviews avidly in an effort to make sure that my “investment” was not going to be misplaced, and I have been left with the feeling that a great many commentators have missed the point of the camera. It is not a rangefinder. It is not a replacement for an SLR. It is a compact, pure and simple. If you are put off buying one because it lacks interchangeable lenses or is not great at manual focusing then I really think your ideas of what the X100 is or should be about are wrong. I bought it because I wanted a compact that I could carry everywhere so that when unexpected shots presented themselves I would be prepared, and more importantly the ensuing results would be usable.

Page boy at a wedding. A grab shot when I went out the back of the reception venue. May 14, 2011. Fuji X100. 1/280 @ f2 ISO 200. Pattern metered. © Michael Cockerham

Perhaps I should make a statement in the register of interests before I continue: I am a photographer, not an equipment junkie. I am interested in images first and foremost, and on the whole I find that cameras have an annoying tendency to get in the way of a perfectly good picture. I have found the plethora of “unboxing” videos and expressions of admiration for its looks laughable and uninformative, and I know that I am not the only one, because the question I have been asked most often by other photographers is “is it any good?” Anyway, given that, you will not be surprised to learn that this “review” will be based on how it handles – it is for others to repeat ad infinitum what it does.

Car park at the Queen Elizabeth Hospital, Birmingham. May 2, 2011. Fuji X100. 1/60 @ f11 ISO 200. Pattern metered. © Michael Cockerham

The camera arrived as I was setting off for a three day jaunt around the UK photographing car parks (don’t ask – good client, good pay, and I think I now need therapy because I have started to appreciate the finer points of the multistory!), and naturally I took it with me so that I could familiarise myself with it when I wasn’t waiting for a car to move or the light to change. What struck me first and foremost was the accuracy of the meter and the dynamic range of the sensor. The shot above is a case in point: strong specular highlights off the steelwork and the deep shadows of the tree would create problems for many cameras, but the X100 was not fazed by it. Given the limitations of this website it seems appropriate to give you an enlargement to make the point. Although taken as a RAW image, I have made no corrections, and at 100% the details and accuracy of exposure speak for themselves with great colour and shadow detail. There is a hint of chromatic aberration on the extreme contrast edge, but nothing that could not be corrected in ACR or a similar RAW converter. And remember, this is from a compact.

Enlargement of car park photo - click to enlarge

Lest you think this is a one off, consider the next image. A dark wood front door set into a white rendered wall in full sunlight. There is good detail in the depth of the shadow and in the texture of the white wall itself, using pattern metering and no exposure compensation – you’ll have to take my word for it because I cannot be bothered to keep putting enlargements into the post. How many cameras would be thrown by all that white?

Door in white wall. Ciutadella. May 28, 2011. Fuji X100. 1/140 @ f5.6 with ND filter ISO 200. Pattern metered. © Michael Cockerham

But like any meter it can be fooled, and with experience you learn to predict when it is likely to be wrong and dial in some compensation. In situations where things are just too demanding there is always spot metering, and as the photo of my wife and eldest son on an airplane shows, it is utterly reliable despite the huge contrast range in the situation. Using the optical viewfinder the selected focus area is the point which also determines the spot meter.

Laura and Joshua relax in flight. May 25, 2011. Fuji X100. 1/250 @ f2.5 ISO 250. Spot metered. © Michael Cockerham

After a month I feel confident that I know what it can and cannot do, and have got to grips with its idiosyncrasies. I cannot claim that it is perfect, but there is a tendency to compare its performance to my D3, and that simply isn’t a fair comparison. If I temper my criticism with the constant reminder that it is a compact, then there is much to like about the X100 and precious little to complain about. In fact, most complaints I have found are resolved by learning to understand how it works, and not assuming that it should work the way one expects. For example, the focusing can be notably slow, particularly at close quarters, a complaint that many have made, usually at the same time as saying that it is not possible to get in close to the subject. In practice, with the camera at your eye you can make two clicks of the left edge of the jog wheel to put it into macro mode. The viewfinder switches to the electronic (EVF) version – presumably because the parallax with the optical finder would be too great – and instantly you are able to focus very close indeed. At this point though the normal practice of holding the shutter release halfway down freezes the image in the finder while the focus hunts and the image in the finder catches up. Irritating. But I have found that more often than not if I just trust the camera and press the shutter release all the way down it gets the shot, and it gets it right. It is counter intuitive given the way we all focus with SLRs, but it works.

The bride's hands while she is made up. May 21, 2011. Fuji X100. 1/30 @ f2.8 ISO 640. Average metering. Macro mode. © Michael Cockerham

Of all the complaints I have heard the one I agree with the most is the absence of a locking button on the exposure compensation dial. The dial itself is a joy to use and a very welcome control to have easily to hand, but given its location on the top-plate it is easily jogged out of position when the camera is hanging from your shoulder. However, after the first few times of scratching your head wondering why a seemingly straight forward image has fooled the meter you learn to check the display in the viewfinder for confirmation of the dial’s position as you put the camera to your eye. That said, assuming Fuji bring out a successor to the X100, being able to lock the dial would be one of the changes I would welcome.

Wet cobbles and umbrellas in the evening. Ciutadella. May 30, 2011. Fuji X100. 1/30 @ f2.8 minus 2/3rds of a stop in compensation ISO 1250. Pattern metering. © Michael Cockerham

One thing that takes some getting used to is the way maximum aperture can be a problem in bright light. Basically the nature of the shutter mechanism in the lens makes it physically impossible to use the wider apertures at speeds over a thousandth of a second, although on the plus side it does make it possible to synchronise flash at any speed, something which you can’t generally do with SLRs. Fuji have solved this by providing a built in 3 stop neutral density (ND) filter in the lens so you can still use f2 when the sun is out. The problem is you have to remember to set it, and going through the function menus is not the most intuitive way to go about it. Again, it isn’t long before you figure out that setting the ND filter to be the function controlled by the function button on the top-plate is the best solution. Frankly, if you are out in bright light it just makes sense to switch the ND filter on and forget about it, because one of the things that makes the X100 so compelling is the capacity to use that wide aperture and bring some depth and shape to your images in a way that is beyond the scope of conventional compacts. This is also a good point to mention how effective I found the Auto ISO control to be. You can set the upper limit on ISO where you want, and the trigger shutter speed below which the ISO is pushed up. I have found it to be very effective, allowing me to concentrate on my subject and forget about technicalities. Given how good this camera is with low light (and believe me, it is really very good indeed, compact or not) Auto ISO is not to be avoided but embraced.

Childrens' outdoor chess competition. Ciutadella. May 28, 2011. Fuji X100. 1/1000 @ f2 ISO 200. Pattern metered. © Michael Cockerham

I have already made some disparaging remarks about those who have concentrated on the X100′s looks – for me it’s a tool and form should follow function. Interestingly, I have found that in some situations its looks can actually be a problem. I used it at a wedding of two designers. Needless to say many of the guests worked in design as well, and I found myself fielding questions about the camera from several people who were apt to comment that it was a “nice piece”: so much for being discrete. Similarly, a few people with more than a passing interest in photography have stopped me to ask if it is a Leica. There may actually be a case for making it a little less pretty!

Shapes, colour, light, bicycle and cobbles. Ciutadella. May 30, 2011. Fuji X100. 1/30 @ f4 minus 2 stops in compensation ISO 1250. Pattern metered. © Michael Cockerham

The camera is unquestionably well made, but it is not a tank and would not take the punishment you might throw at a 5D or the like. Given its price I am surprised at how susceptible to scratching the LCD screen is. I have become accustomed to the scratch resistancy of the screen on my D3 (the rest of the body looks dreadful, but the screen is still pristine), and I had expected, wrongly as it turns out, something similar on the X100. In practice it needs care. Again a simple solution is stick on screen protectors. I have now acquired half a dozen on EBay for the princely sum of £1.49 including postage, if you have forked out for the X100 I suggest you do the same. Perhaps Fuji might like to consider upgrading the quality of the screen glass in any update.

Weathered building, electrical sign and blue sky. Cala N Blanes. May 27, 2011. Fuji X100. 1/2000 @ f4 ISO 200. © Michael Cockerham

Another criticism that has been levelled at its performance is the length of time it takes to write data to the card and clear the buffer. Certainly when shooting raw if you press the review button straight after shooting, nothing will happen. In fact you will have to wait until the indicator lamp has almost finished flashing before the display will show you the shot you have taken, and the more frames you fire in sequence the longer you will have to wait. Some reviewers have said that you “have” to use the fastest, most advanced cards to get the best performance, and even that won’t be much of an improvement. I have used simple class 4 4Gb SanDisk Ultra SDHC cards, and I can confirm that all of the above is true… but, if you look at my original post you might notice a comment I made in my wish-list which is particularly relevant at this point; I said that I was not bothered about having a screen for reviewing the images because:

I know it is nice to check that you got your picture, but I made a living from using film for over ten years, and I knew then that I had the picture even though I didn’t see it until I processed the film. Not being able to see the picture instantly will remove the distraction and make me concentrate on my subject – you know, I actually think it might make me a better photographer.

Just because technology allows us to do something that we could not do before does not mean that it is necessarily better, and I, like many photographers, find it hard to resist the temptation of “having a quick look just to make sure”. Fortunately, Fuji have thought about this. It is possible to set the camera to give a quick confirmation view in the viewfinder (even when you are using the optical version) of what you have just shot. I have it set for 1.5 seconds, which is just about short enough to stop it being intrusive. Personally being able to shorten it to 1 second would be ideal although I doubt enough people will ask for this to persuade Fuji to create a firmware upgrade that would make it possible. Nevertheless, it means I know whether the shot is in the bag or needs to be adjusted without taking the camera from my eye. For that reason I find the cards I am using more than adequate.

Phineas and Joshua in the hotel corridor. Cala N Blanes. May 28, 2011. Fuji X100. 1/420 @ f2 ISO 640. Spot metered. © Michael Cockerham

I admit that in my wish-list I asked for RAW and high quality JPEG file formats, but to be honest the JPEG option was a sop to those who prefer to work that way. In my own workflow I cannot understand why anyone would not shoot RAW and only RAW, and that is the way that I use the X100. Having said that, the JPEGs straight out of the camera are incredibly good and if that’s the way you like to work you will not be disappointed. I can’t comment on how many shots you will get on a 4Gb card using JPEGs, but with the camera set to RAW I was getting about 200 images. The JPEG RAW question does highlight one of the more curious peccadilloes of the X100, though, and that is the RAW button on the camera back. The design idea is that you set the camera to shoot JPEGs, and if a scene presents itself for which you simply have to have a more fulsome file, you can press the RAW button and the next frame you fire will be captured in both formats before the system reverts to the default setup. The problem is, if like me you shoot only RAW, then the button is utterly redundant. Others have called on Fuji to issue a firmware upgrade that allows the button to be programmed as a second function button, it is a call to which I will add my voice here, although I am not sure what function I would be inclined to assign to it.

On a practical level the battery is claimed to give about 300 shots on a single charge, and while I have found that it does a little better than that, there is a strong case for getting an extra battery.  Also call me old fashioned, but the single most important tool a photographer can use with his lenses is a dedicated hood. Fuji, really, if you are marketing this at pros at a thousand pounds a pop: include the bloody hood. I don’t begrudge spending the extra (which I did) I just think it should come with the camera as standard, not as an optional extra.

Dusk and shop lights. Ciutadella. May 30, 2011. Fuji X100. 1/30 @ f2.8 minus 1 stop in compensation ISO 400. © Michael Cockerham

The viewfinder has been the most talked about feature of the X100, and justifiably so. I have yet to meet a photographer that likes working with a camera at arm’s length – it just isn’t natural. So it ought to be surprising that the inclusion of of a viewfinder would generate so much comment. Personally I like working with the optical finder, but there have been moments when I have felt that switching to the EVF would be a good idea, and the facility to see shooting data displayed on the optical viewfinder is a real boon. I have found the frame guide on the OVF to be pretty accurate, enough so that I have not been disappointed by it. One thing I would like though is a display of approximate number of images left on the card  – I am putting my neck on the line here as I must admit that I have not read the manual, and it is possible that there is a way of setting this up, which some eagle-eyed reader will no doubt inform me of.

I should probably comment on the Menu/OK button. Many have said that it is too small. I agree; it either needs to be bigger, or probably more usefully it needs to be made to stand a little proud of the surrounding dial. That said it is not long before it becomes second nature to use the very tip of your thumb, and once you get used to it it really isn’t a problem even with my fat thumbs.

There are many things this camera can do like motion panorama and stereo sound HD video, and mind boggling varieties of bracketing, all of which I have tried. They work. Are they good? They seem to be, but I am not the best person to judge as these are not features I use nor do I have sufficient experience of them (with the exception of basic exposure bracketing) to comment on their performance.

Ultimately the worth of any camera is whether you want to use it, and whether if you do it gives you the results you’re looking for. I have to say that for a man that does not like cameras I have rather fallen for the X100. Not because of it’s looks, but because it is effortless to use, unencumbering to carry all the time, and the images it produces are technically nothing short of stunning, even if their aesthetics are down to me.

The X100 has brought me back to that place I used to inhabit about 12 years ago with the Yashica T4. Once again I can have a camera on me everywhere, but this time with the inherent capability to be playful and experimental that digital capture affords, coupled with an image quality that is genuinely saleable (I have already sold over £200 worth of prints taken on the camera) so that it earns its place in my equipment inventory. Carrying a camera everywhere is fun again.

Is it any good? Without question, yes: it is better than good. Is it perfect? Of course not, but then no camera is. Fuji have marketed this camera as the “professional’s choice”, a claim which some have criticised as over reaching, but I fervently believe it depends as I have already said on what you think the camera is. If you think it is intended to be a competitor for Leica’s M9 then the criticism is justified. If, like me, you think it is a compact that professionals can use with confidence, then I think for once the manufacturer has a claim which can be taken at face value.

Personally I am just looking forward to what I will witness and capture with this wonderfully crafted tool, and given my post of 2009, you’ll forgive me if I do so with a certain smug self-satisfaction.

Waiting for the flight home. Joshua and Toby watch the planes at Mahon Airport. June 1, 2011. Fuji X100. 1/850 @ f2.8 ISO 200. Pattern metered. © Michael Cockerham

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By admin, April 29, 2011 9:26 pm

All the recent polls suggest that around eighty per cent of the population are in favour of the monarchy, and certainly the reporting today appears to support that. The naysayers, on the other hand, are quick to point out that it is an anachronism, that it is unaccountable, that it is patently unfair for a person to gain such advantage purely through accident of birth.

So what can we learn on a day when all the world has turned to gaze upon the theatre of William and Catherine’s wedding? We learn that we do pagentry well because actually the whole institution of monarchy underpins everything we understand about ourselves in Britain; it is the foundation of our society. For all its failings, it has given us a remarkably stable and peaceful form of society, one that is by and large the envy of nations the world over.

Camden Grove street party. April 29, 2011. Photo © Michael Cockerham

Elizabeth II has been head of state for longer than anyone anywhere in the world, sixty years next year. Yet in all that time she has barely put a foot wrong, not something you can accuse most politicians of for 60 minutes let alone 60 years. The less charitable would say it was simple luck, but the truth is the Queen is driven by a profound sense of service. Yes, her’s is a position of extreme priviledge, but it is also one of stultifying restriction. Nevertheless Elizabeth has stayed true to the course of loyal duty and service. We might be her subjects, but it is she that serves us with unswerving dedication. That devotion to service is the high price she must pay for her privilege, and I have no doubt that she instills that sense of purpose and duty in her close family.

Think about it; from the moment you are born, your life is mapped. You have no choice in the matter. None. From the moment William was old enough to understand he knew that he was to be king, as did his father. At least Elizabeth began life with no such expectation; even so, at the age of ten, her fate was sealed because of Edward VIII’s abdication. For these royal children there was and is none of the opportunity to imagine what you might be when you grow up. How is that fair?

Bunting in the central aisle of Asda, Swanley. Only the prices seem to have changed in a scene out of the 70s. April 29, 2011. Photo © Michael Cockerham

When Edward VIII chose love over service it caused a constitutional crisis, and one wonders if it would survive such an event again. The support shown today for the renewal of the royal family that arises out of the marriage of William and Kate and their creation as Duke and Duchess of Cambridge indicates that Britain wants it to work. There is a palpable hope that the institution of monarchy can be renewing, can be relevant, can continue to be a cornerstone of our society.

The trappings of royalty may be responsible for the detail of events like today’s, but the spectacular itself is a function of the dynamic of monarchy. A republic has to happen according to timetable, but the events of monarchy are determined by life itself: the weddings, the funerals, the coronations. Many may come at once, then nothing for a generation. The flux of their lives mirrors that of ours, and that is what gives the perception of solidity and continuity. While prime ministers come and go, and one crisis is replaced by another, the monarchy is there as a focal point for society to measure itself by.

Children at Hextable Primary School have a "Street Party" in honour of the Royal Wedding. April 28, 2011. Photo © Michael Cockerham

So what is the threat to the monarchy from the republican opposition? Nothing of significance. The real threat comes from an heir apparent standing up for his or her inalienable right to determine their own future; a compelling case could be made at the European Court of Human Rights that being born the heir apparent is a form of slavery which is unlawful.

I started by recalling the cry of those anti-monarchists that it is unfair for a person to gain such advantage purely through an accident of birth. But we are all born into advantage or disadvantage. In a very real sense the accident of being born British is to be born into advantage that the vast majority of the world’s population can only dream of. It is not fair, and many are minded to do all they can to redress the imbalance of plenty and poverty. William, like Charles before him, has been born into advantage, but also into a closeted duty the rest of us can barely begin to imagine.

Camden Grove, Chislehurst. Only the alarm bell boxes and the parking restriction sign put this image in the 21st century. April 29, 2011. Photo © Michael Cockerham

In the end, far from the monarchy existing because we the people allow it to continue, the monarchy continues for as long as those born into that destiny see fit to put duty and service ahead of personal freedom. The threat to the monarchy is greatest within the institution itself. It serves us well, and it is right that we use occasions like today’s to celebrate and maintain it.

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By admin, February 25, 2011 11:26 am

After months of technical delays the space shuttle Discovery lanuched from the Kennedy Space Center at a little before 10pm UK time last night. Discovery is regarded as the fleet leader, having flown in space more times than any other space craft, covering some 143 million miles by the time it completes this mission.

Aboard STS-133 is Mission Specialist Benjamin Alvin Drew Jr on his second trip into space. I met Al in Houston in October 2010, shortly after his first flight, and he was kind enough to sit for my project on astronauts, so this seems a suitable reason to post his portrait here.

Astronaut Al Drew photographed at his home in Clear Lake, a few miles from the Johnson Space Center, Houton, Texas. October 2007.

For anyone that’s interested in watching a piece of history, here is the video of the launch:

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By admin, February 11, 2011 10:58 pm

Without doubt the best thing about making your living as a photographer is the opportunities it gives you to witness things that might not otherwise be possible.

I have to confess that I am a nosey sod, so I find most things interesting, but I was thrilled to be invited by Ben and Cathrine to document the birth of their second child following some pregnancy studies I had made of Cathrine in December.

While I was present at (and to some extent, photographed) the births of my own three children,  I always felt too close to the event emotionally to do it any justice. In the case of Ben and Cathrine I was able to be an impartial observer, but it was still a magnificent experience. Here’s a taste of what I caught. Oh, and if you know of anyone else who’s expecting and would like to have it documented let them know that I am looking for more subjects as part of a larger project.

A two image narrative of the birth of Espen

Cathrine manages the pain of labour with the support of husband Ben and some gas and air

Espen weighed a considerable 10lb 1oz at birth

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By admin, November 17, 2009 1:21 pm

BOOK REVIEW: Family

If all the photographs ever taken were sorted into subject categories, it is probable that the biggest single pile would be that which covered the family.

Ever since Kodak suggested to the general public that “you push the button, we do the rest”, camera owners the world over have seen the importance of immortalising family events.  Christmas; the family holiday; children and their birthday parties; visiting relatives.  These are the photographs that are most treasured.  Intimate, personal, and largely unseen. They are the items most people would claim to miss the most if their homes were burned to the ground.

Indeed, historians have for some time recognised the collective importance of such images, giving a visual narrative to history and changing social moirés.

One area of family photography has however remained largely unexplored, and that is how professional photographers photograph their own families.  How do people who spend their lives taking great photographs relate to their wives, husbands, children, parents and siblings?  Are they aloof?  Are they intimate?  Do they apply the exacting standards of their professional work to the chance shots of the children at play?  Family, a new book from Phaidon sets out to examine this curious relationship.

Subtitled Photographers Photograph Their Families, this is not a commissioned piece, and it is not restricted to current or even recent photographers.  Rather it is a genuine attempt to curate into one body some of the private and intensely personal photographs of 56 photographers from around the world, and throughout the history.

Having recently become a father, I may be more receptive to its charms than others, but Family comes across as a rather wonderful book, to which the word gentle is well suited.  It not only allows a greater insight into the characters of some well known photographers, but compels the reader to re-examine their own approach to portraying their family and friends.

Family, edited by Sophie Spencer-Wood with preface by Henri Peretz, Phaidon 2005. £24.95.   ISBN 0-7148-4402-0   www.phaidon.com

This review was originally written for the Photographic Journal