One September evening I walked between Place Bouffay and rue des Petits Écuries with the Nikon FE and a roll of HP5+. Box speed—400 ASA. No pushing. No stand development. Just me, tired eyes, and the hope the city would be kind.
It wasn’t always.
Some frames failed outright. Missed focus—my eyes couldn’t lock the split-image patch in the dim light. Others blurred from camera shake at 1/15th, handholding like a fool. I won’t pretend those shots have hidden merit. They’re gone. But the ones that landed? They held more than I expected.
Because Nantes at night isn’t dark. Restaurants pour light onto wet cobbles. Shop signs, streetlamps, even those little menu stands outside cafés—they all feed the scene. I’d guess the focus, press the shutter, and move on. Later, scanning the roll, I found detail in shadows I thought were lost. Not because I’d exposed well—I hadn’t—but because HP5+ gathered what was there even when I fumbled.
That’s latitude in practice. Not a spec sheet promise, but the difference between a usable negative and a blank one when your hands shake and your eyes fail. I didn’t push to 1600. I didn’t need to. I just needed a film that wouldn’t punish me for being human.
The December shots are more traditional street work—grey skies, low sun, the light you expect. Even the coffee cup photo owes something to Instagram. I won’t deny it. We absorb what we see online; it seeps into our framing without us noticing. No shame in that—it’s just how we learn now.
But the September shots that worked feel more like my own. Standing in Place Bouffay as evening deepened, watching light pool around tables and bounce off stone—I wasn’t chasing a look. I was just there, squinting, hoping. And HP5+ met that without fuss.
I’m not claiming mastery. I’m claiming a few good frames out of a roll that also held misses. That feels honest. Cities don’t go dark—they transform. And sometimes, even with bad eyesight and shaky hands, a simple roll of film gives you just enough to keep walking.
All photographs shot on Ilford HP5+ at 400 ASA, developed in standard chemistry. Nikon FE, Nantes—December 2025 and September 2025, Place Bouffay and rue des Petits Écuries.
When I first started out in photography, I would go and get my film developed by the photographer on Newland Avenue near where I lived, and the photographer would do what people called a contact sheet. Basically, the film was cut into strips, placed into a special frame to keep the negatives as flat as possible, and exposed directly onto a sheet of photographic paper. These “thumbnails” allowed us to see the photos of the outing in one place and we could decide which ones might be worthy of developing.
We have this digital contact sheet in Lightroom where we import our photos and decide which ones are worthy of being developed. It’s the same idea, just with different tools.
But what does this have to do with storytelling? Think of the contact sheet as the beginning of the story-crafting process. Just like a narrative needs a beginning, middle, and end, so too does our selection of images. With a contact sheet, we gain a bird’s-eye view of an outing—seeing not only the individual shots but how they relate to each other. Choosing which moments to develop isn’t just about technical quality; it’s about deciding which parts of the experience best tell the story.
This principle guides me when choosing photos to share here on the blog. Whether it’s capturing moments with my friend JD, the barber, or snapping a shot of my lunch before I dive in, each image plays a role in the day’s story, hoping that I don’t forget to take the photo of my dessert before eating it. Otherwise you just get a photo of the plate with some traces of cake or just some crumbs.
But lets’s get back to the idea of story telling with an arc that covers the outing. When I set out for the day, I begin with a few warm-up shots to set the scene. If I have a plan, great—but often I don’t. Instead, I focus on capturing the ambiance of my surroundings, whether it’s a café, church, or pub. Each photo builds on the last, creating a narrative of my day’s journey.
For events, especially when I’m hired to photograph, I’ll start by discussing the plan with my client. I want to know what’s important to capture, any specific conditions at the venue—lighting, mobility restrictions, etc.—and what moments they consider essential. Having this list of must-capture moments, like the classic Kodak moments that we talked about in a previous article, helps me stay focused and give me structure.
For the sake of arguments, I have a wedding to photograph, and I know that I will be taking shots of the bride before the ceremony. I know that I have to be at the venue before the happy couple arrives. I’d better get a shot of the rings before they appear on the couples’ fingers, etc. I’ll want environmental portraits of the guests, etc. This planning ahead allows me to be more serene during the day itself.
Just married
Not every story requires a series of images; sometimes, a single photograph can capture an entire narrative. Think of it as a self-contained story, a moment that holds not only what’s visible but also what’s implied—emotion, context, and sometimes, a sense of mystery.
For example, take a photograph of a lone, empty café table in the soft morning light, a half-full cup of coffee, and an open notebook on the table. This image can suggest solitude, introspection, or perhaps the moment right after someone has left. The viewer might wonder: Who was sitting here? Why did they leave? What were they writing? This photograph tells a story, inviting the viewer to step in and imagine the rest.
A single image can evoke different responses based on the viewer’s own experiences and emotions. In many ways, it’s a conversation between the photographer and the viewer. We as photographers might set the scene, choose the light, and capture the moment, but it’s the viewer who fills in the blanks, completing the story in their mind.
This approach also applies when photographing people. A portrait of a person lost in thought, gazing out of a window, can evoke curiosity about what’s on their mind, where they might be going, or what they’re experiencing at that moment. In these cases, the single image captures more than just a face or place; it holds an emotional narrative that transcends words.
Am I sure about this cake?
Storytelling in photography isn’t just about taking pictures; it’s about deciding which moments matter and capturing them in a way that communicates more than what’s on the surface. Whether we’re crafting a narrative through a series of images or capturing an entire story in a single frame, each photo we take says something about how we see the world and what we want to share with others.
Next time you’re out with your camera, think about the story you’re building, whether it’s a quiet day at a café or a bustling event. What do you want your viewers to see, to feel, to wonder about? In some ways, we’re all storytellers—stringing together moments, big or small, to create something meaningful.
So, go on—look through your images as if they were frames in a film, each one a piece of a larger story. You might find that your perspective shifts, and that’s when photography becomes more than just a hobby; it becomes a way of understanding and connecting with the world.
This was another Ian and Kate day. Similar in concept to the Ian and Killian day, but a day where I can dedicate myself solely to Kate. She’s fifteen now of course, but I should spend more time with her. If she’ll let me of course. At the time she was only seven—simpler times where I could make her happy with just a nice tea, a boat trip across the river, and just wandering around exploring the intricate streets of an old fishing village on the “bords de Loire.” There are no cars in the narrow streets, and the children can run wild.
This day was one spent in Trentemoult, that rather colourful village that you can see here. The colours are intense and provide a great backdrop for portrait photography. So of course I went in with a film camera and black and white film. Which only goes to show that when you photograph a location, however colourful, and take away the distraction of that colour, you have to really concentrate on composition, texture, and forms. I couldn’t rely on colour for my photos today. But I was sure that I could reveal some good photos despite that.
So what do you do? You just try and capture some moments of your daughter messing around and being a perfectly normal seven year old. I tried to capture her exploring the streets and being absorbed by the whole ambiance of the place. She became part of the scenery, and blended in perfectly.
I was just there purely to observe and record the day on film, with one eye in my camera and the other on Kate. It was a good day.
Looking back at those moments reminds me of how quickly time seems to slip by without me realising that I am getting older. She of course is slightly older, and possibly slightly less “insouciante” or carefree, but my love for that girl is still as strong as ever.
Welcome back to another look at the film archives. This time, I’m sharing a few black-and-white street shots from an October Saturday in Nantes, likely taken with the Praktica MTL3 and HP5 Plus film. These outings with my son Killian, which we called ‘Ian and Killian days,’ became a cherished routine, a time for us to reconnect amidst the busyness of life.
He was 17 then, a weekly boarder at his lycée in La Roche sur Yon. On the weekends, we’d often head into Nantes, following the same familiar programme: a visit to the barbershop, a meal at the Sugar Blue café, and finally, a drink at the John Mc Byrne Irish Pub. In the photo, that handsome chap in the barber’s seat is Killian—a little reminder that it wasn’t always Kate joining me on these trips. These outings were a way to stay connected, despite his growing independence. Even with him being only 17, I still felt that sense of responsibility. Once a Dad, always a Dad.
As we went through our usual routine, I found myself facing the familiar challenge of capturing these moments on film. The low light inside the barbershop always made me second-guess whether I could get a decent shot without using a flash. But over time, I learned to trust the Praktica and the HP5 Plus film. There’s a rawness to film photography, especially with Ilford’s HP5. It adds a certain grit and texture to the image, something that digital just can’t replicate.
That’s what I love about film—the imperfections. The grain gives it character, a certain honesty that smooth, polished digital photos lack. It’s not about creating something flawless but about preserving the authenticity of the moment. This shot of Killian in the barbershop, for example, may not be technically perfect, but it’s real. It’s us, it’s Nantes, it’s one of those ‘Ian and Killian days.’
Looking back at these photos, I’m reminded that sometimes, it’s the imperfections that make an image truly memorable. Quite the day, right?
Last week’s journey through the film archives took us to Nantes, specifically the Île de Nantes. While you’ve seen my photos from that day, I’m excited to share my daughter Kate’s photos with you.
Are these images works of art deserving of a gallery? Perhaps not, but they represent a delightful exercise in spontaneity. Captured by a seven-year-old “playing” with a camera, they offer a unique glimpse into how my young daughter sees the world. There are no rigid rules of photography or composition here—just an extension of her eyes. These photos are raw yet delicate, showcasing the world as she perceived it at that moment.
These photos mean a great deal to me, particularly the one she took of me with that glorious moustache! I’ve often discussed how the journey and process of photography can sometimes be even more meaningful than the final destination. That day was a significant part of that journey, and reflecting on my own first photos from that age fills me with nostalgia.
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…
There was a time when my daughter wasn’t a teenager. There was a time when she quite liked her Dad, and she would accompany me everywhere. It was good being that child’s hero. It was a more innocent time. It was a time when she actively tried to spend time with me. It was a time when she didn’t see me the way I see myself…
One of her favourite places in Nantes was the Jardin des Plantes, a huge botanical garden in the middle of Nantes just across the road from the station. I could talk about the fact of it being a haven of peace in the bustling city. I could talk about it being an oasis of green in a sea of concrete. I could talk using clichés ‘til the cows come home…
These photographs are not clichés, but real attempts of capturing a specific moment in time allowing me to travel back through time. And looking at these images, I’m definitely back in time.
Let me introduce you to my daughter from 2016. She was a 7 year old that already knew what she wanted but was slightly more subtle about it. She would suggest that we go into town. That I could take my camera. That we could go to such and such a place. That we could do such and such a thing. And all this as if it were completely natural. And I was a very willing victim.
This time she suggested going to the Jardin des Plantes. She would take her camera (my old Sony bridge) and I would take my Olympus Trip 35. I used the Olympus Trip quite a lot at that time and its ease of use, the zone focussing, and general lack of buttons to press, made it quite the fool proof piece of kit.
As usual, I let her lead the way. This was here outing after all, and kept a respectful distance, so I could photograph her and record her for posterity. The Jardin des Plantes has not only plants, the clue is in the title, but also is the backdrop to the Voyage à Nantes, and certainly was that year.
I think the images speak for themselves and I’ll let you peruse them at your leisure. They were taken on Ilford HP5 Plus film shot at box speed.
Continuing our journey through the film archives, we find ourselves on the Île de Nantes, home to the iconic Hangar à Bananes. Let’s rewind to July 2016, when I captured this vibrant scene with my then favourite Canon AE1. Once a shipbuilding powerhouse, Nantes had cleverly repurposed its abandoned infrastructure into a bustling hub. The area is now home to the fantastical Machines de l’Île, the historic Chantiers Navals, the towering Grue Jaune, and of course, the Hangar à Bananes itself. Back then, the Hangar was a hive of activity, buzzing with picnics, impromptu barbecues, and lazy afternoons under the summer sun.
My goal was to capture that unmistakable “Summer Vibe.” As always, I started with the architecture, drawn to its striking modern lines, a refreshing departure from the stark brutalism of the 1970s. The clever use of texture and the innovative design of the apartment buildings particularly caught my eye.
That summer, the Voyage à Nantes festival had a brilliant idea: communal barbecues for everyone. Genius, right? You simply brought your food, and they provided the grills, charcoal, tables, and chairs. It might not be Texas, but the French know their way around a barbecue, and being the food lovers they are, they go beyond the usual sausages and burgers. It was a true testament to what a public space should be – a place for everyone to gather, share, and simply enjoy themselves.
Then there was the dancer. He was just filming himself with a GoPro, but the way the sunlight caught his movements and the glistening sweat on his skin was mesmerising. It was a fleeting moment, the first and only time I’ve ever photographed a dancer, but it left a lasting impression. There’s something undeniably captivating about the human body in motion.
My wanderings continued to the edge of the island, where the mighty Grue Jaune – now a “monument historique” and a symbol of Nantes – stands tall. Walking past and through this enormous yellow crane was an awe-inspiring experience.
Along the riverfront, the Anneaux de Buren, a series of massive rings, stretched out in a mesmerizing pattern. At night, they transform into a dazzling display of vibrant reds, blues, and greens – a photographer’s dream, offering endless possibilities for capturing leading lines, geometric shapes, and unique framings of the cityscape.
And of course, no photo series of mine would be complete without the obligatory bike shot. It’s a bit of a tradition for me.
Even now, in 2024, the Hangar à Bananes still exudes that same “Summer Vibe.” It remains a popular spot for after-work drinks with friends and colleagues, boasting a variety of restaurants, bars, the HAB Gallery, and the infamous “Warehouse.” While the area can get a bit dicey later at night, it’s perfectly safe and enjoyable for a daytime visit or an early evening soirée.
Following our last trip to Carnac, the film archive now has a look at Nantes in the autumn of 2016. These photos offer a glimpse into how I approached photographing a city back then, and if I’m being totally honest with you, still do. I treat the city much like a model on a photoshoot. The goal is to capture not just the physical landscape, but the essence and atmosphere of a place, allowing viewers to get a feel for the city simply by looking at the images. In this series of pictures, Nantes reveals herself and her architecture, resplendent in the autumnal sunshine.
Over time, I have come to know the city and appreciate her architecture. Buildings are not only a reflection of the architect but also of the people who live in them. They add character to the city, allowing her personality to shine through. I enjoy looking at the lines, and the shapes of them. They inspire me. They tell the story of the people who, either work, or live in them. They are not just mere edifices.
You will notice as we go through the archives, I might not respect the timeline slavishly. My aim is to give you an aperçu of my world at the time through film. I know you will be able to take this affront in your stride and not hate me!
We’ll go from the bains douches municipales, through to the Sainte Croix church, to the Stalinian 1950’s architecture of the Social Security building, passing by the odd shop, Hausmanian architecture, and even a shot looking towards the Cathedral.
I have been writing for this blog for a while now and everytime I get a comment it feels wonderful. Especially when I get a thought provoking comment. LIke this one from my friend Joe:
Excellent post Ian I admire your willingness to stay neutral on the merits of which focal length lens is better for street photography. I personally find the 23mm 2.0 Fuji lens fairly close to what my eyes are seeing before I take the image. Of course we are talking about lenses designed for the APS-C sized Fuji sensor so 35mm would be the equivalent field of view for my 23mm lens (23mm x 1.5 = 34.5mm). Undoubtedly some people will say the nifty fifty is a closer field of view to what the human eye sees but in my opinion I will leave that up to other people that may care to argue that point…. Sorry for my long winded response but I enjoy your articles so much I cannot resist replying even though once I get started you can’t shut me up
I am grateful for Joe’s thoughtful comment and I am still going to stay neutral, and just explain why I use the 35mm (equivalent) on my X100F, for street photography, and environmental portraits, despite having the teleconverter to convert that lens into a 50mm (equivalent) lens. As a special bonus I will present my latest street photography from Nantes, which just goes to show the sun can shine on us…
The Appeal of the 35mm Lens
The 35mm offers a world view which is very similar to that of the human eye albeit with a very slight distortion that disappears at 50mm. So, when on the street, we know that our image will have much the same view as what “we” see. When I get really close for a close up of a subject, the possible distortion remains manageable and doesn’t distract from the subject.
My Journey with the Fujifilm X100F
I have fanboyed and waxed lyrical about this camera in previous articles and will not do that here. However, I have had mine since 2018 and still use it on a very regular basis, which tells you an awful lot. I use it during travel and when doing street photography because it is light, takes up next to no space, and is subtle, unlike the huge DSLRs and their massive lenses. Moreover, I have enough self-confidence to not need to compensate for anything. It’s also a very sexy little camera, and over the years that we have been together, I have learned how to use it to its full capacity. I can use it intuitively without having to think, which is always a relief. According to camera manufacturers, six years is a long time to be with just one camera, but the costs of replacing it with the latest version are prohibitive, and not enough of them are being produced. The old argument about one in the hand still holds true.
The Versatility of the 35mm Lens on the X100F
The versatility of the lens, as with any lens, depends on the person “behind” the camera. I use it for documenting a scene. It’s just wide enough to get a good view, but not to distort or have too “busy” a scene, as can happen with the 28mm. It’s great for portraits. Dear Reader, I know I have previously talked about the distortion when close up, but what it is great for is a portrait of a person in his environment. It gives us more context about the person and tells more about him, as we can see his surroundings. Because of the silent shutter, I can also get nearer to my subject without making a flapping mirror sound when I press the shutter button. At F2.0, I can either get massive depth of field or shoot in relatively low light. My basic setup is ISO 3200 and F2.0. But on a day like today, I will put it into ISO 400, and if things get really bright, then I can use the inbuilt ND filter.
Comparisons with Other Focal Lengths
I have already touched upon the differences between the 28mm, the 35mm, and the 50mm focal lengths, but let’s get real for a second. The 28mm is great, but too much distortion and makes the image very busy because of the wider field of view. This is fine when used with intent, but you have to be so much more careful with your composition. The 50mm is the lens that I grew up, but after having used the slightly wider 35mm, I find myself backing up to get the same field of view, which leads to banging into things and apologising profusely to the bin that I have just reversed into. It has happened!
Practical Tips for Street Photography with the 35mm
Just use it, go back and use it again, and if you have any doubts then just go out and use it once more to be sure. Don’t overthink it. Don’t worry about the distortion I have mentioned. It only really happens when you get right up to your subject. If you have only used the nifty fifty then you shouldn’t notice a huge difference, but physically you will. You’ll be moving closer to things, but it’s just “one step up.” It will seamlessly “grow” on you.
Be the man in grey, or whatever colour you fancy, but know the environment in which you’ll be shooting. You might want to avoid fuchsia if you’re going to be in the woods shooting, or in that beautifully tailored three piece suit if you’re going to be in the stands at a football match. Think sore thumb and being out standing in a field.
Conclusion
If you so wish, you now have the arguments for and against the 35mm lens. I don’t think that arguing about ti will get you anywhere though… The lens, as the camera, is a tool at your disposal to create an image. Just getting a new lens won’t change your life despite what the guy in the shop might tell you. You “can” use a 50mm for street photography, and some even use the 85mm to go for more details, and more candid shots. Use what you have already. I have just talked about my experience since using the 35mm (equivalent) on the X100F. The information is purely subjective. If you want an X100, then by all means go out and buy one. Maybe go for an older model like the X100F or even the X100T for the price difference. Or if you can get your hands on one, the X100VI is wonderful. At the moment however, I cannot justify buying a more expensive camera to my wife!
If shooting 35mm on the X100F has piqued your interest in film, the Pentax ME Super is a fantastic first film camera — compact, capable, and surprisingly affordable on the used market.
I’ll leave you the comments section to debate the various merits of each piece of kit. And you can use the hashtag “#ijmphotography” to share your images with me on the gram. Look forward to hearing from you. Until next time…
This month, amidst publishing various tutorials for your delectation, I ventured into uncharted territory with my camera. A musician friend asked if I could photograph her sister’s hen-do. How about that for a challenge. Slightly scary… Slightly? No, terrifying for the introvert that I am. Flattery and food convinced me.
Having previously photographed a wedding, I was somewhat prepared. For that event, I bought a second-hand 24-70mm f/4.0 lens and a Canon flash. I was advised to use the Canon 6D Mark II in program mode with the flash set for TTL (through the lens metering). Today’s first activity called for the same setup.
Tahitian Dancing
I arrived at the venue for the first activity: Tahitian dancing. The bride-to-be was proposed to in the Pacific Ocean, hence the theme. The girls were already there, and I tried to stay out of the way as best I could. I may be creating memories for everyone, but those memories aren’t mine. The lens worked perfectly, and I didn’t even need my flash batteries. They’re ready for next time and one less item to tick off.
The dance session seemed to go on forever, and I resisted the urge to sit down. I felt completely out of place, more a prize pillock, but kept telling myself to fake it till I made it. It worked—my wife approved of the photos, and more importantly, so did the bride-to-be. Creating rapport was nigh on impossible so I just watched the spectacle and pressed the shutter. Do what you can and leave the rest for later… So I did just that!
My favourite bit of the day
I switched from my clunky DSLR to my sexier Fuji X100F. It’s always better to be inconspicuous and yet still be able to take decent photos. I’m big enough already as it is, but having a smaller camera helps people forget that I’m there…
This next activity was probably my favourite. The restaurant was one that I had walked past on many occasions, but had never gone in. It was one of those themed places for Millennials in need of some nostalgia. The owners and chef had created a menu with grown up “children’s food” from the 90s and 80’s. There were activities and crayons for the place mats. The decor was 80’s and everything was vintage. At least for them, which is the main thing. Ok, it was a bit for me too, reminding me of my arrival in France all those years ago. I was offered a seat near the bride, but was whisked off by my friend to sit next to her. She’s so protective of me… We all ordered and chatted, and I started to relax. The girls were interested in my photography, and they showed me photos of their very young children. I did the same, and showed them then and now photos to show how those small children grow up so quickly. I felt like the Patriarch at the end of the table.
The food was good, and I could see they were all having a good time, and then came out the shots… I was being very teetotal in order to have my mind clear to get my photos for the bride to be. I had switched from the DSLR to the Fuji X100F to follow them around Nantes, and do street photography to which I am more accustomed. The poor “hen” was given a mission by her friends who had purchased a whole load of condoms and she was tasked to sell them to passers by. She fulfilled her mission with gusto, and we ended up in the Rue de la Paix, shooting nerf guns at targets provided by a stag do outing.
Conclusion
I wasn’t needed for the next activity and drove back to the pub to chill, and get my head together. The photos from the X100F were edited on the go, and shared immediately. The DSLR photos went through the computer and were shared by the end of the weekend.
All in all a good day, and interesting experience, and I’ll let the photos do the talking for me…
