February 2026 — Clisson with the Nikon FE


Maybe I’m a little stubborn, just maybe, but I’m insisting on using my Nikon FE and for my health I have to get out. I had some Tri-X that needed using, and some HP5+ left over, so time to use it. And it does my mental health good too—getting out of the house despite the horrible light and rain.

“They” always say to go out in good light and use golden hour. We haven’t been blessed with good weather lately (understatement of the year contender 2026), and I always say just go out anyway and do it.

I shot two rolls that afternoon—72 frames total. Tri-X and HP5+, both at box speed. No pushing. I developed them in Fomadon LQN because it handles flat light cleanly: shadows stay defined, grain doesn’t get muddy even when the sky gives you nothing. When I scanned them, about half were ok enough to keep—36 frames that worked. Of those, maybe half a dozen were real keepers. That’s how it goes. Not every frame needs to be a masterpiece. Some just need to exist.

In Lightroom I only used the curves tool to pull a bit of separation between the wet stone and the grey sky. I wasn’t trying to manufacture contrast that wasn’t there. The rain had already done part of the work: cobblestones held texture because the light was even, puddles on the stairs created accidental reflections, and the streets were empty enough that I didn’t have to wait for tourists to clear the frame.

I won’t pretend I enjoyed standing in the damp. My shoes got wet. My hands were cold. But I needed to leave the house, and the camera gave me a reason to do it. The film was a deadline. The weather was irrelevant.

As you can see in the following photos, the light wasn’t fabulous, so we adapt. There are still interesting things to be seen.

Shot on Nikon FE with 50mm f/1.8. Kodak Tri-X 400 and Ilford HP5+ rated at box speed, developed in Fomadon LQN. Edited in Lightroom: curves adjusted for shadow separation only.

Waiting for the Light: Reclaiming the Cathedral with Ilford HP5+


I didn’t set foot in the cathedral while Voyage en hiver draped its silence in municipal spectacle. Not out of protest—I simply couldn’t bear to see sacred space turned into a backdrop. So I waited. And when the banners finally came down in December, I loaded a roll of Ilford HP5 into my Nikon FE and walked back in—not as a tourist, not as a patient, but as someone hoping to find the light exactly where I’d left it.

I’ve always abhorred political recuperation. The Voyage en Hiver had no place in the cathedral’s reopening. This was about worship. About returning to God in a space that had been quiet for too long—not about municipal branding or winter tourism. “Give unto Caesar what belongs to Caesar, and unto God what belongs to God.”  (Matthew 22:21)

That day, I chose God’s silence over their spectacle.

My hands were cold when I raised the camera. December light in a stone cathedral is a quiet thing—more absence than presence. I wondered, honestly, if 400 ASA would be enough. But I wanted authenticity: more grain than digital noise, more truth than polish. So I trusted the FE’s metering, opened up my aperture, and let the film do what it does best. No second-guessing. No LCD screen.  Just the click of the shutter and the hope that the light would hold.

And it did.

The frames that emerged are darker than summer would allow—but this was December, after all. And in that darkness, something gentle remains: the grain cradling the texture of worn wooden pews, shadows tracing the ribs of vaulted stone, candlelight bleeding softly into halos where no banner now hangs. Black and white stripped away every distraction—the logos, the seasonal clutter, the noise—until only what mattered remained: light on stone, silence between pillars, the architecture of reverence.

One frame in particular stays with me: the candles. Shot at 1/30s, my hands unsteady not from illness but from the simple weight of the moment. The focus slipped slightly. The flames blurred into one another. And instead of frustration, I felt a quiet relief—the film hadn’t captured perfection. It had captured presence. Grain became breath. Blur became prayer.

I didn’t go to “get out of the house.” I went because the space was clean again—just stone, silence, and the stubborn glow of candlelight. And for a few minutes, with the FE cold against my palm and the smell of incense in the air, I remembered why I love film photography: it doesn’t lie. It holds what’s there—shadows and all—and asks only that you trust the process.

They sold a spectacle. I took back the light. And the grain—warm, imperfect, alive—proved which one will last.  My small act of reparation…

Balancing Film and Digital: A Photographer’s Journey


Introduction

Have you ever had to make a difficult decision that you really had to think long and hard about, one that would have real-world consequences for you and your creative process? I have, and I’m going to share this first-world problem with you. Now, I know first-world problems are a joke, but this problem became very real to me during the run-up to the China Orchestra Tour: film or digital?

You all know about my fondness for the analogue process and the results I’ve been able to acquire. Judging by my recent stats and pages visited, this might just interest you.

The Allure of Film Photography

I’m not saying this was causing me the traditional anxiety that I have been known to suffer from in the past. But… I had to decide how I was going to record my trip and, therefore, what to take with me. I’ll give you a list of my ideal kit, and it might help you to understand my dilemma.

  • Camera 1
    A recently acquired Nikon FE (my first ever Nikon) and black-and-white film, ranging from Fomapan 100 ASA right through to Ilford HP5 Plus, whose box speed is 400 ASA but can be pushed up to 1600 ASA and still provide great images.
  • Camera 2
    A Mamiya C220, which is a beautiful piece of kit with various 120 format black-and-white films, HP5 Plus, Portra 400, with the addition of Kodak Tri-X.
  • Camera 3 (maybe 4)
    My Olympus Trip or even the Olympus Pen EE S half-frame camera, for those informal colour shots with some Kodak Ultra and even a roll of Portra 160 for that gorgeous vintage style.

So, you have my film cameras with the film that goes with them. They provide a photographic experience unlike any other. The slowing down of the process, the reflection on each shot taken, the satisfying sound they make when you press the shutter release button. And so much more. They also look pretty damned sexy just hanging there around your neck, and people will think you are a “real” photographer, and that old-school vibe just adds tonnes to your sartorial elegance. Yes, you become a real poser, but do I care? Absolutely not!

The Practicality of Digital
  • Camera 5
    My much-loved Canon 6D Mark II, with a couple of zoom lenses – 24-70mm F4.0, and my 16-35mm F4.0 lens, and maybe even my nifty 50.
  • Camera 6
    Fujifilm X100F, the travel photographer’s ideal camera with the 35mm equivalent F2.0 lens for that sexy bokeh. It’s the Internet that said it, not me.

Now moving into the digital world. Convenience, convenience, and in case you hadn’t realised, convenience. I love them both for the variety of shots they allow me to take, and as I learnt photography “back in the day,” I have still conserved the same approach that I had in analogue photography, i.e., not spraying and praying like I have seen some colleagues do.

It is easier to use a flash, and you have an image that can be transferred to your phone, edited in Lightroom CC, and rapidly shared in the China Orchestra Tour WhatsApp group. And people can see what a great photographer you are. Couple the Canon colours and the Fuji film simulations, and you can have all the creativity fixes you might need at your fingertips.

The film cameras were there to satisfy my love of the analogue process and the nostalgic film look that only film can give. The digital cameras for their practicality, lens effects of going really wide, and having the possibility of going right up to 70mm. Choices, choices, choices.

Reality Check

Now let’s get back to reality and look at the ever-growing list of constraints. First of all, I am going on tour as a musician and not as a photographer. One really has to make this important distinction, as it gives a sense of purpose to the trip as well as the implication of priorities.

I would be flying across half the world, and therefore have to follow the demands of the air travel industry and airline rules. That meant no more than two lithium batteries, and one in the camera, and not in your suitcase but in your hand luggage, or on your person. They don’t like the idea of these batteries exploding or causing fires mid-flight. And because we are respecting the zero BS rule here, I don’t fancy that either. I would be limited by weight for my suitcase: 23kg and 20kg for flights inside China. My priority was to be a musician first and not a photographer, if ever I needed reminding…

If I were going to the UK, I would just have to annoy my family in the car with it being loaded up with camera gear, but this is China we’re talking about. Not a jaunt across the Channel.

In my suitcase, I will need my clothes for two weeks, my suit for concerts, shoes for concerts, wash bag with all my toiletries, as well as my CPAP machine for my sleep apnoea (I have to think about my quality of sleep as well as not snoring for my unsuspecting roommate Corentin). My hand luggage would be my instrument, and as we didn’t need mutes, I might be able to get away with stuffing things up the end of my horn’s bell. Please note that I didn’t try to get a cheap laugh by using the word bell-end…

So here I am back at the beginning of this article, and yet now you might better understand my dilemma.

Tell us what you decided then!

Alright then, I will.  Welcome inside my mind and my thought processes. The sheer weight of all the kit would have made tking everything completely impractical.  I knew this and had come to terms with it.  I really wanted to analogical, but then had to come to terms with the fact that airport scanners can damage undeveloped film.  Also the Mamiya weighs a tonne and would have been impractical to lug around China, despite the wonderful images it provides.  Carmer 2 out!  Now for security check I had bought a metal film box for my films so that those charming people at airport security could check my films, making sure that I would not blow up the plane.  Not really my style…

That would leave me with Camera1, 3, and 4.  Cameras 3 and 4 are particularly sexy and Carmera 4 being a half frame camera, gives you double the amount of shots for your film.  However it uses zone focussing, and the ISO setting only go up to 200ASA so you need lots of light.  Camera 3 is similar in the fact that it goes only up to 400ASA so not good for lowlight shooting.  Cameras 3 and 4 out.

That leaves me with Camera 2.  Which is of course uber sexy and Aperture priotity, which I like, and has a larger ISO range, and one that I can focus accurately with.  I had black and white film for it which I enjoy using and know how it reacts and what kind of shots I can get out of it.  Very satisfying shots.  It also doesn’t need lithium batteries to work, so that helps rule that danger out.  But I would still have to contend with the possibility of annoying security staff, and annoying Chinese security staff, and as I speak no Chinese, that would be challenging. And yet it still had a chance of staying in the race.

Now lets explore the digital realm. Camera 5: The Canon 6D Mark II is a beast of a camera and one I enjoy using.  It’s lenses are beyond compare, and it would offer me lots of choice in choosing my subjects.  However it would be heavy, especially with those lenses, and despite being able to have my images straight away, would it really be worth that added weight.  Camera 5 out.

Camera 6.  The Fujifilm X100F.  Probably my favourite digital camera, and the one I took to the UK this summer as a test for this Chinese trip.  It’s small.  Compact and silent.  And yet despite being a digital camera, it has an analogue feel to it, and is also very sexy, so I can still pose with it and it will give that serious photographer look, and make make people wonder is he using digital of analogue…  Hmmm.  Sounds like a good choice.  It’s downfall lies in its power consumption. I would need three batteries in total.  Which would mean that I would have to entrust a battery to a friend..

The two cameras left in the race are the Nikon FE analogue camera with it’s 50mm F1.8 lens which doesn’t need batteries.  50mm was the lens I learnt photography on and would allow me to get some decent portrait shots.  However with the Fujifilm, I could change ISO setting without the hassle of changing my film, create scenic shots, as well as environmental portraits, and I could transfer the photos directly to my phone and share them straight after editing.  

The X100F: Why It Was the Right Choice

The X100F became the clear winner for several reasons. It’s compact and lightweight, which was essential for travel, yet it produces sharp, detailed images. The 35mm equivalent F2.0 lens allowed me to shoot wide-open for beautiful bokeh in portraiture and environmental shots. The range of film simulations, from classic Chrome to Acros, allowed me to quickly achieve the look I desired without extra post-processing.

Its hybrid viewfinder provided both optical and electronic options, letting me choose the right method depending on the shooting conditions. The controls are direct, giving me full control over exposure and depth of field, without the need to dig through menus. And though it’s a digital camera, it retains that analogue charm that makes shooting feel personal and intentional.

The only downside was battery life, but I managed to bring a few extra batteries, which wasn’t too much of an issue for the flexibility the X100F offered.

Conclusion

In the end, the Fujifilm X100F was the perfect balance between practicality and creativity. Its digital conveniences, combined with its classic photographic feel, made it the ideal camera for the China Orchestra Tour. The images you’ve seen in my latest China Series article were all taken with the X100F, and I’m happy with the decision I made and I hope you might be too…

Opening of the Film Archives – Canon AE1 Street Photography in Nantes


Good afternoon, Dear Reader. I’m writing this article thinking of you and wondering what to show you next in this ongoing series. The clue is in the title: Canon AE1 Street Photography in the streets of Nantes.

I know you have the eyes of a hawk who never miss a trick because your vision is so sharp. You might even have scrolled down to the photos already, and your eagle eyes will have noticed that this isn’t the usual area I visit on these outings. And, of course, you’d be right!

Yes, I still parked in the Feydeau car park but crossed the road to the south, heading along Baco-Lu, past the Tour Lu (sans “t”), towards the St Felix Canal, and then back into town… Some of the places no longer exist or have changed hands, but you would still recognise them even today.

I think that with these photographs, I’m getting closer to what some might call “proper” or “traditional” street photography. The images have a certain gritty quality to them, including the people in the shots. This was something I was actively aiming for. Maybe it’s the grain—something I don’t get with the X100F—that helped bring this about. Or could it be the people, whose presence seems to reveal the stories behind them? Whatever it is, I felt that this was a very good day.

I think I may have shared with you that I’m going to China this Christmas on tour with the orchestra I play for. I’m still undecided about which camera to take and wondering if I should bring a film camera along. With the X100F, I’ve become so accustomed to the 35mm lens, while my film cameras only have 50mm lenses to work with. Reviewing these older images may help me make up my mind. It’s going to be an epic trip, and I want to be sure of the kinds of images I’ll be able to capture.

As much as I’d love the flexibility to hop in the car and retake a shot if needed, this trip to China will be different. I’ll need to trust my choices and embrace the moment as it unfolds—something that feels both exciting and a little daunting. But that’s the beauty of photography, isn’t it? The challenge of capturing fleeting moments, knowing they might never come around again. So, whatever I decide, I know the experience will be unforgettable.

While the anticipation of the China photos may be killing you, I know you’ll be patient, whatever I decide to use. Rest assured, those photos will capture the spirit of the trip. Only two and a half weeks before I start my travels…

The Opening of the Film Archives – Stonehenge August 2016


Stonehenge is something different for most people.  For some it is a historical site in Wiltshire, and despite not being part of the 7 wonders of the ancient world, still remains pretty special.  For some more “alternative” folks, it’s an ancient spiritual centre, and just happens to be on converging energy lines.  For some it’s a day out with the children.

We had come back from a cruise that had taken us around the Canary islands, Lisbon, and Galicia in Spain.  Thank you Mummy, and thank you Daddy!  I think they felt guilty about us always coming up to see them in Northumberland, and wanted us to get a different holiday experience.  Well, different it was!  But that is a totally different story, and the photos can be found in the Olympus Trip 35 article.

So our ship docked at Southampton and we still were in the holiday mood.  I remember as a small boy visiting Stonehenge, and thought it was “the” opportunity to introduce my family to the site.  

It seemed slightly smaller than I remember it.  As do most things if I’m going to be honest with you, but the majesty of the stones remained.  As did the wonder at the fact that these stones had been dragged overland from Wales, and put into place, with the joints still being “rock solid” and down to the nearest millimetre.  I work in a factory that does industrial woodworking and I know what we can do with modern tools and technology and yet here, this massive construction was put together using basic tools.

The children were just taking in the whole experience, and rather bemused at the sight of Japanese tourists being shoved around the site and taking the obligatory selfie.  They also seem quite bemused by the amount of school groups being led around.  

I preferred, as often as I do, to just take my time and take it all in and get some photos of the place.  With the 40 mm zuiko lens I was getting some lovely environmental shots that you can see below.  

My wife, however, was in tears.  Crying her heart out.  She later confided in me telling me how she just felt overcome with emotion.  Maybe those lines of energy for those alternative folks might have something in them…

The Opening of the Film Archives—the Hangar à Bananes August 2016


In my last venture into the film archives, I talked about how there was a time that my daughter hadn’t yet seen me the way I see myself and how she actually still liked me, before turning into a teenager.  This is the second part of that special day.

We had explored the Jardin des Plantes and discovered what they had to offer.  This of course builds up an appetite in a young lady, and convinces her that she really needs to drink something Daddy.  And why couldn’t we go to the Altercafé (now the D3) at the Hangar à Bananes.

So what else was I to do but drive us to the Hangar à Bananes.  You will have seen the Hangar in this article, and you will now be completely up to date and know nearly everything there is to know.

Don’t forget that this is a girl who gets an idea into her head and then just goes through with it.  That idea is so rooted that it is nigh on impossible to change that idea.  I knew what was coming.  I would order a chocolate brownie, and Kate would have an Orangina.  I could have a beer.  How gracious of her.

She had been my model for most of the day and even a top model needs a rest, and just has nothing left to give a photographer.  You just know when enough is enough…