Photography Philosophy Part IV – The Art of Storytelling in Photography

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 the last 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.

newlyweds and their wedding bands
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.

my daughter contemplating cake
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.

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…

A Photography Philosophy – Part II – Why Do We Photograph?

Cameras. Why? What is it that makes us pick one up? For me, a camera is not merely a beautiful object; it’s a tool—a simple box, with a lens through which light passes, creating an image on film or a sensor. Whether the box is a hundred years old or fresh off the production line, the same principles hold true. Even our phones are, in essence, an evolution of that same box. But beyond mechanics, what truly drives us to take a photograph?

The Kodak company told us it was all about “capturing that Kodak moment.” But what exactly is this moment, whether created by Kodak or any other company? Firstly, it was a stroke of marketing genius, associating a photograph with a personal, meaningful memory. Secondly, it gave us a compelling reason to pick up a camera and capture memories to share with others, possibly even sparking the first instances of FOMO (fear of missing out), which is now so prevalent in social media. Kodak cleverly linked photographs with significant memories, encouraging us to reach for our cameras. How kind of them.

Yet, let me assure you, it’s not a cure for FOMO, despite what Kodak or social media might suggest. Or at least, not entirely. I use my photography to document the world around me at a given moment in time. Photography is the only art form that allows you, the viewer, to see something through my eyes as I saw it. But while photojournalists capture our world, photography is not solely about documentation.

It’s about storytelling through images. A single photograph can hold an entire narrative within its frame, suggesting more than what’s immediately visible. But often, I find I need multiple images to fully convey a story. When I write my blog pieces, I aim to tell the story in both words and images. I guide you through a carefully curated selection, hoping that you might connect with them in the same way I did. This connection—between the photographer and the viewer—is, for me, one of the most powerful aspects of photography. Through our lenses, we offer others a brief glimpse into our world, our experiences, and our feelings. It’s a reminder that storytelling is more than just documentation; it’s about creating a shared space for interpretation and emotion.

Of course, beauty is also an integral part of why I pick up a camera. There’s something undeniably fulfilling about capturing a scene that feels, to me, perfectly composed. I like to believe I can craft a visually pleasing image and employ various techniques to do so. The idea is to present a scene so that the photograph conveys how I saw it, inspiring you to feel something. Photography is the only medium or art form that allows you, the viewer, to see something that only I saw, and because of the passage of time no longer exists.

It’s about creating art for art’s sake. In a world that constantly demands productivity and output, creating something purely for the joy of creating feels almost radical.

Then there’s the meditative side of photography. For me, the camera isn’t just a tool to create images; it’s a form of therapy. When I’m suffering from melancholia, or I’m lost in thought, stepping into the world as an observer through my camera often gives me a sense of calm. Looking through the lens allows me to disassociate from daily worries and approach the world with curiosity rather than anxiety. This small shift—seeing myself as a photographer rather than a participant—transforms the environment around me from something overwhelming into something inviting. The camera’s frame becomes a safe space in which I can explore without judgement or expectations. In this way, photography becomes a practice of mindfulness.

The process itself is deeply important. I often think of Vivian Maier, who left behind so many undeveloped rolls of film, underscoring the significance of the process itself. Born in 1926, Maier spent her life photographing the world without promoting her work. Of the 140,000 shots she took, only 5% were ever developed—a body of work unknown even to its creator. This fact alone astounds me. Perhaps she, too, was capturing moments for herself, deeply invested in the act of photography without any need for external recognition. Her legacy reminds us that the process can be as meaningful as the result and that photography has value even when the images are unseen.

In today’s image-saturated world, where everyone is encouraged to share, edit, and curate their lives, it’s worth asking if we’d still take photos knowing that nobody else would ever see them. For me, the answer is a resounding yes. Photography is more than a tool to impress, to document, or to share; it’s a means of expressing myself and, often, of making sense of my own experiences. Every image is a small act of discovery, helping me see the world more clearly or find beauty where I might not have noticed it before.

Ultimately, photography is a language, a form of communication that transcends barriers of culture, language, and time. A single photograph can capture something timeless—an unfiltered moment of life that can be understood and felt by someone across the globe. In this way, photography becomes a shared visual language, offering us a way to connect beyond words.

So, why do we photograph? Perhaps the answer is as varied as the photographers themselves, shaped by individual motives, experiences, and emotions. But whether we’re documenting, creating, or simply exploring, the act of photography invites us to see the world—and ourselves—with fresh eyes. And in the end, that might be the most compelling reason of all.

The Opening of the Film Archives – Trentemoult October 2016

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.

The Opening of the Film Archives – Kate July 2016

I am a father.  I am the father of a son, and have been for the last 25 years.  I am a father.  I am the father of a daughter, and have been for the last 14 years.  I am a father.  More traditional than modern, but definitely a doting and loving father of both children.  I am a photographer.  Both children have had multiple photos taken of them over the years.  However, the subject of bedtimes has always been contentious.  They say you have to be rigid and follow an established routine.  They say that for the good of the children you have to respect this routine to the letter.   They are obviously not parents.  They are obviously completely disconnected from reality.  They obviously have their heads buried so far up where the sun don’t shine.

As a father, I’ve learned the importance of picking your battles, especially when it comes to bedtime routines. This particular night, with my 7-year-old daughter wide awake, a fight wasn’t the answer. So, I grabbed my Praktica MTL3, loaded some HP5 pushed to 1600, and turned a potential meltdown into an improvised photoshoot. We ended up in the bathroom – because teeth brushing was still non-negotiable – but the resulting photos captured a moment of pure magic.

Let’s talk about technical details: the Praktica MTL3 is the model that I learnt my craft on.  It’s solid.  It’s fully manual, and gets the job done admirably.  The lens is an F1.8 Pentacon 50mm, with a lovely depth of field.  I pushed the HP5 to 1600 to be able to take advantage of all the available light.  

Kate posed for me and thoroughly enjoyed herself.  Teeth brushing.  Calling somebody very important on the Fisher Price telephone.  And pulling a face to tell me off.  Some things just don’t change…

Photography is not the technique or the camera, or worse still, the settings used.  It’s about capturing that “Kodak moment” albeit with Ilford HP5.  It’s about the shared memories.  It’s about the nostalgia of looking back on family life that can never be recaptured.  It might seem mundane to you, but to me it’s priceless.  And looking back at these family photos, it just reminds me how much I love both my children, and am fortunate enough to have captured these fleeting instants.

Finding Balance: Photography and Personal Wellness

In the sanctuary of my thoughts, where the gentle glow of lamplight dances upon well-worn bookshelves, I find solace from the chaos of the world. With my dog, Molly, by my side, I embark on a journey of introspection.

As someone who values quiet reflection and nuanced understanding, I’ve learned to appreciate the delicate equilibrium that enriches a fulfilling life. Amidst the pursuit of knowledge and creative expression, it’s easy to become ensnared in the whirlwind of activity, neglecting personal well-being in the relentless chase for success.

Yet, amidst the simplicity of my surroundings, among the familiar scents of brewed tea and the soft hum of a jazz record playing in the background, I am reminded of a timeless truth: genuine fulfillment springs not from ceaseless striving, but from nurturing inner peace and harmony.

For photographers and thinkers alike, the quest for excellence can exact a toll on the spirit, leaving behind exhaustion and doubt. Each moment of creation demands both physical exertion and emotional resilience.

But amid life’s ebbs and flows, it’s crucial to honor the sanctity of body and mind, to heed the whispers of intuition and the call of the soul. What value is there in a well-crafted image or a finely wrought idea if born from weariness?

In my own journey as a seeker of beauty and understanding, I’ve come to embrace moments of stillness and contemplation, carving out time for rest and reflection amidst the bustle of daily life. Whether reveling in solitude or feeling the gentle caress of a cool breeze, I’ve discovered that inspiration often arises from quiet depths.

Photography serves as a therapeutic outlet for many, offering respite from the pressures of modern life. Through the lens, we enter a realm of infinite possibilities where time seems to slow and worries fade into the background. Immersed in the act of creation, we create a space where anxiety and overthinking lose their grip, replaced by a sense of calm and clarity.

For those grappling with depression or loneliness, photography can serve as a lifeline, gently coaxing us out of isolation and into the embrace of the world. As we wander with camera in hand, we become mere observers, detached from the chaos that threatens to overwhelm. In framing a shot, we find solace in the simple beauty of the moment, forging a connection with the world that soothes the soul and restores the spirit.

When I’m not at my desk, crafting articles or editing photos to share with you, I’m exploring this balance between creativity and self-care, constantly striving to find harmony in my own life.

In the tranquil sanctuary of creativity and self-discovery, photography emerges not only as a means of capturing fleeting moments but also as a powerful tool for nurturing personal wellness. Through our cameras, we embark on a journey of exploration and introspection, finding solace in the beauty of the world and sanctuary in the act of creation.

As we navigate the complexities of modern life, let us honor the delicate balance between ambition and well-being. Photography offers us a pathway to reconnect with ourselves and the world, inviting us to embrace stillness amidst the chaos and find beauty in the ordinary.

Whether framing the perfect shot or crafting prose to accompany our images, let us remember the profound interconnectedness between creativity and personal wellness. By prioritizing self-care and mindfulness in our photographic practices, we not only enhance our capacity for artistic expression but also cultivate a deeper sense of harmony and fulfillment in our lives. Even if our endeavors don’t always yield the desired result, it’s essential to recognize that the journey itself is as, if not more, important than the destination.

So, dear reader, as you embark on your own photographic journey, may you find solace in the act of creation, clarity in moments of quiet contemplation, and inspiration in the beauty that surrounds you. May your photographs serve not only as snapshots of the world but also as windows into the depths of your soul, guiding you towards a life of greater balance and well-being.

The X100F, again!

It seems that I’m not the only one who raves about this powerhouse of a camera. This just proves that size truly doesn’t matter. I’ve mentioned it on numerous occasions and I stand completely justified in doing so!

Here’s a selection of articles that I have written showcasing phtoography from this amazing little camera in no particular order:

The idea behind using a camera is not just about capturing moments, it’s also about the experience it grants you. This camera has the ability to inspire and motivate its users to explore and create, which is a testament to its design and functionality. The joy and enthusiasm that comes with using this camera is contagious, and it’s evident in the way it empowers photographers to unleash their creativity. It’s not just a tool, but a companion that fuels the passion for photography, encouraging individuals to embrace the world around them through its lens.

Frame It Right: The Art of Composition in Photography Part IV

In my previous articles, we’ve embarked on a journey to understand the basics in photography. I have talked about exposure, set out some of the “rules” of composition, and even delved into the world of colour theory. Today, I’d like to introduce you to the rule of odds and the rules of space, two fundamental elements that will take your photography to the next level.

Before we talk about these new concepts, let me reiterate the importance of building a solid foundation. Just as we did with framing, negative space, and colour theory, it’s crucial to master each concept before moving on to the next. Take your time to learn and apply these principles in your photography journey. The other four articles will stay up, and you can read them at your leisure.

The Rule of Odds in Photography

The rule of odds is a composition guideline that suggests using an odd number of subjects or elements in your frame, typically three or five, rather than even numbers. Why? Because odd numbers tend to create a more balanced and visually pleasing composition.

When you use the rule of odds, you create a natural focal point within your photograph. Our eyes are drawn to the centre subject, and the uneven arrangement adds a sense of harmony and intrigue to the image. The result? A more captivating and dynamic photo that engages your viewers. It’s all about balance.


Rules of Space: Balance and Direction

Now, let’s look at the rules of space. This concept involves how you position elements and subjects within your frame to achieve balance and direct the viewer’s gaze. It leaves space for the subject and can be used in multiple ways as a storytelling tool. It can also be used in conjunction with the other composition techniques that I have talked about in my previous articles.

Tips

Think outside the frame. What is going on outside the frame becomes as important as what is oing on inside the frame. Let’ take the picture of the guitarist. Who is he looking at? What’s going on outside the frame? Is there an audience? Where is the audience? Using rules of space the viewer will more curious and be more engaged in the photo.

Conclusion

One can talk about composition and the effect it has on photography till the cow come home. People will always bring up “composition” and will always tell you how “they” would have done it differently. In these four articles you will now know what they are talking about and be able to decide for yourself. In absolute terms, “your” photographs are about what “you” saw, and only “you” can see that. But keep the rules that we have discussed in the back of your mind, and take your photograph with purpose and being conscious about what you are doing. Mindfulness is the key.

My next article will talk about the differences between 35mm film photography and medium format photography. For film enthusiasts or anyone else who is curious you will be entering into a new world. There are, of course, trade offs between each format, and we will discover them. Maybe you’ll be bitten by the Medium Format bug too… As always Dear Reader, I appreciate your enthusiasm, and I look forward to our next exploration together. Until then, happy shooting!

Capturing the Essence of Nantes: A Street Photography Journey with the Pentax ME Super and Kentmere 100 Film

Dear Reader,

This is less of a tutorial than the last four articles but more a “how I approach the subject” kind of article. You can read about something I seem to do a lot of and have experience of. I’ll be talking about my film photography phase from this summer when my X100F was still dead

Have you ever felt that familiar tug of nostalgia while strolling through a city that reminds you of your hometown? For me, Nantes, with its maritime heritage and busy streets, brings back memories of Hull in East Yorkshire. Those of you from Hull will see the irony in this, wondering how the heck a town can be like Hull, but it has similarities… If you know, you know. It’s a city that feels like home, and it’s just a short 35-minute drive from where I live. Come with me through the streets of Nantes, with the Pentax ME Super and Kentmere 100 film.

Exploring Nantes Through My Lens

Nantes, like Hull, boasts a rich maritime history, or is it the other way round? As I set foot in the city, I can’t help but feel the past staring me in the face. The first thing I do is head to my favourite spot, Parking Feydeau. It’s become somewhat of a ritual for me. I park on the same floor, in the same space — predictability eases one worry when you’re out capturing moments, or as my son says, are you autistic Dad? The cheeky little bugger. No, I’m just me! An old Fuddy-Duddy.

As I step out onto the street, I take my first light reading with my camera. It’s a bit like taking the city’s pulse, getting the vibe for the day. My starting point is usually Quartier Bouffay, near the castle , and the fact that the pub is close by has nothing to do with anything! From there, I seem to find myself in front of the Sainte Croix Church. Sometimes, it’s for confession; other times, it’s just to warm up, both physically, spiritually, and visually.

Just as walking the streets of Nantes is a physical workout, and with a camera it is akin to a visual workout. You’re constantly observing, framing, and capturing scenes as they unfold. Rue des Carmes or the path leading to the Castle are some of my more frequent routes, but I’ve been known to start my journey at Place Royale, especially if a visit to my barber is in order. My beard and length has often been a debate between my mother and I. She prefers the shorter, therefore neat and tidy beard. I seem to like a little more length, going for the Father Christmas look. From there, I can explore the Rue de Calvaire or aim for the Tour de Bretagne. Should I choose Rue Crébillon, it will take me to Place Graslin, and I end up in the very French and very stylish Cours Cambronne. They do do a nice courtyard do the French. Sometimes I will head to Quai Président Wilson, to the Hangar à Bananes, where I go to the HAB Gallérie. The added bonus is that parking is free in this area, and after all as Tesco’s would have us believe, every little helps. Again, the fact that I have an address for a beer and a piece of cake has nothing to do with anything, and I will, of course deny everything!

Moments and Encounters: The Heart of Street Photography

As an older gentleman with a slight limp, courtesy of arthritis, I’ve come to understand the importance of comfortable shoes. Fortunately, I do happen to posess some comfortable shoes, allowing me the extra bit of ease whilst wandering around the streets. I’ve also done the odd reckie of spots where I can sit down— be it for a meal, people-watching, sipping a cup of French expresso that packs one heck of a caffeine punch, or, on rare occasions, enjoying a decent cup of tea, but as we are in France this a much more challenging endevour. The French can just be so French now and again. Ah, tea — that drink that is a hug in a mug.

Navigating the streets of Nantes with a camera in hand and a discerning palate for food has become somewhat of a habit for me. Some of the things I hold dearest to my heart, tea, and cake. In France, we encounter the “droit à l’image,” a set of laws governing the right to one’s image. Some people may feel uncomfortable having their photo taken, and I’ve seen it manifest in numerous shots of people’s backs. However, these unwitting contributors add a recognisable element to the urban landscape, showing human interactions in the city.

I recall an incident when a passerby accused me of taking his picture without permission. I had a 28mm lens, and he was merely an infinitesimal part of the scene I was capturing. Reassuring him, I explained that he was not the focus of the photo, and that I had only noticed him when he started yelling at me. So much of a muchness. It was a lesson in navigating the sometimes touchy waters of street photography in a culture sensitive to “the right to one’s image.” As it turns out, compassion is the universal language, but so is muttering under my breath when out of earshot.

Another way I combine photography and life in Nantes is through my visits to the local barber. Whenever I’m in the chair, I discreetly document the atmosphere of the shop. The photos I take are subsequently given to my barber, forming a visual record of his small business — it’s good to be good, and it’s my small way of supporting local businesses. As is drinking tea and eating cake. Nothing to do with my tummy, and nothing like Whinnie the Pooh…

The Pentax ME Super and Kentmere 100 Film: A Street Photographer’s Dream Team

Why do I choose the Pentax ME Super for my street photography outings? Well, it’s a matter of practicality and style. First and foremost, it’s compact — a small camera, and in my pocket another lens and a couple of rolls of film. In the world of street photography, less is often more. It’s a “Keep It Simple, Stupid” approach, and I am a great fan of simple.

But it’s not just about size as in many domains; it’s also about subtlety. A massive DSLR with a conspicuous zoom lens can be intimidating, both for the photographer and the subjects. With the ME Super and prime lens, I “zoom with my feet.” This set-up forces me to engage more intimately with my surroundings especially with the 50mm lens, and the result is a more authentic perspective of the city. Plus, let’s face it — the ME Super is just a really cool looking camera and its vintage appearance just oozes kudos and style. It makes me feel like a true photographer, even though I’m merely an observer of the city.

Now, let’s talk about the Kentmere 100 film. It’s practical and easy to find. This film stock is budget-friendly, a nicer way of saying cheap (Fomapan is another cheaper film stock too), which, if you have seen the prices of Kodak film, is a very convincing argument, yet it reminds me of more renowned Ilford films. One year, I decided to exclusively use HP5+, a faster film. Switching to Kentmere 100 or any other 100 ASA film gives me a finer grain, and I can still expose at F2 and 1/2000th of a second for that silky depth of field that just makes everyone go weak at the knees in “good” light. Bokeh whores I’m talking to you!

Street photographers often aspire to capture the kind of timeless black and white aesthetic seen in the works of Doisneau, Cartier-Bresson, or Vivian Maier. While we may never fully replicate their images, using black and white film, allows us a head start on our digital brothers. I’ve always been drawn to this style of documentary photography. Street photography, for me, isn’t just about street portraiture; it’s about observing the street and documenting it in a classic way — classic, much like myself, or should I say, old-fashioned? Whatever it may be, it’s certainly not modern and up-to-date, just like Yours Truly, but that’s fine too! We all have our place.

Tips for Aspiring Street Photographers

Now, for those of you who aspire to explore street photography, let me share some tips. Remember the phrase from the cover of “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy”: DON’T PANIC! When you’re working with a film camera, such as the Pentax ME Super with its 36 exposures, don’t expect to get 36 keepers. However, consider each photo that doesn’t quite hit the mark as a valuable visual note.

These notes help you study your subjects and how the scene changes with shifting light. Practise, after all, makes perfect. Don’t think that any photographer publishes all their shots; in fact, I curate and edit my photos carefully before sharing them on my Instagram feed. It’s all part of the learning process, using each “less than perfect” shot to refine your craft. And each photograph is a journey towards the ultimate photograph.

Dont forget those comfortable shoes, which, as I mentioned earlier, are essential. You’ll be walking and standing a lot, so prioritise comfort. Again, reduce your kit to the minimum. The less weight you have to carry, the fewer excuses you’ll have to sit down and maybe have a cup of tea and a piece of cake. But keep that option open, you never know…

I photograph to find out what something will look like photographed.

Garry Winogrand

Conclusion: Capturing the Essence

In conclusion, street photography is about capturing the essence of the city, and with the Pentax ME Super and Kentmere 100 film, I document the life, culture, and people of Nantes. It’s a city with a rich past and a vibrant present, and through my lens, I’ve sought to capture moments that reflect its unique character.

Each click of the shutter is a testament to the enduring appeal of film photography and its ability to capture moments that transcend time. It’s a classic approach in a modern world, much like my beloved Nantes itself. I mean, it’s not Hull, but not many places can rival Hull. If you know, you know.

If you want to dig into the Pentax ME Super itself — its controls, its character, and why it works so well for street photography — I’ve written a dedicated review: Why the Pentax ME Super Is the Perfect First Film Camera (Even in 2026).

So, Dear Reader, whether you’re a seasoned street photographer or just beginning your photographic journey, I encourage you to explore the streets of your own city or a new one. Embrace the art of observation, document its nuances, and don’t be afraid to capture this essence of the world around you. It’s a journey that rewards both the observer and the observed.

Thank you for joining me on this photographic adventure. I invite you to share your own street photography experiences and engage in a conversation about this beautiful art form. Until next time, keep clicking and exploring.

The Art of Visual Note-Taking in Photography: Lessons from a Reflective Portrait

A Glimpse into Visual Note-Taking

Photography is more than just capturing perfect portfolio shots. It’s a journey of exploration, experimentation, and personal growth. In this article, we’ll delve into the world of visual note-taking with your camera, drawing inspiration from a poignant black and white portrait capturing a moment shared between a father and his son.

The photograph that serves as our muse in this exploration is a black and white portrait taken within the confines of an elevator. It’s a seemingly ordinary setting, yet it holds within it the essence of visual note-taking. In the center of the frame, my son stands, gazing intently into the elevator’s mirror.

This image isn’t just about following the rule of thirds, although it does so with remarkable precision. What truly sets it apart is the subtle yet profoundly impactful detail: my own reflection, almost ethereal, lingers in the mirror behind my son. It’s a moment frozen in time, a visual note that encapsulates a father’s perspective and a son’s curiosity.

Lessons Learned Through the Lens

This visual note, seemingly unassuming, has been a source of profound lessons in my photographic journey:

1. The Dance of Composition: The deliberate use of the rule of thirds here isn’t just about aesthetics; it’s about orchestrating a visual symphony. The composition invites viewers to explore the depths of the image, guiding their eyes from my son’s contemplative gaze to the faint presence of my reflection. It’s a testament to the power of composition in storytelling.

2. The Narrative Thread: Photography is storytelling with light, and this image narrates a journey. It’s not merely a reflection in a mirror; it’s a snapshot of our journey from the subterranean depths of an underground carpark to the bustling life of the city streets above. It captures the transient nature of existence, reminding us that every moment is a story waiting to be told.

3. The Reflective Element: The mirror within the elevator introduces an intriguing layer of reflection and perspective. It turns an ordinary scene into a canvas for creativity, showcasing the hidden depths within seemingly confined spaces. It’s a reminder that as photographers, we should always be attuned to the opportunities around us, even in the most mundane settings.

4. Emotion Unveiled: Portraits are vessels of emotion and connection. My son’s expression, captured in this visual note, reflects a myriad of feelings—contemplation, curiosity, or perhaps a touch of wonder. These emotions breathe life into the photograph, making it relatable and evocative.

The Journey Continues

This visual note is more than just a photograph; it’s a reflection of my evolving perspective as a photographer and a father. It’s a testament to the idea that within the ordinary, we can find the extraordinary. It speaks to the profound lessons we can draw from visual note-taking in photography.

As you embark on your own photographic journey, remember that each click of the shutter is a note in the symphony of your experience. Visual notes may not always be destined for your portfolio, but they are the heartbeats of your creative exploration. They are reminders of where you’ve been and stepping stones to where you’re going.

Capture the journey, one visual note at a time. Your next revelation may be just a click away.

The following photos, or should I say visual notes, we’re taken over two September Saturdays with my Fujifilm X100f. What did you take away from these visual notes?

A Peaceful Stroll Through Jardin de Plantes

In the heart of Nantes, a city bustling with life and movement, lies a haven of tranquilly—the Jardin de Plantes. With my trusty Pentax ME Super in hand and a roll of Kentmere 100 film, I embarked on a photo walk with my niece, weaving together the threads of modernity and nostalgia.

As the sun cast its gentle rays on the vibrant petals and verdant foliage, my niece and I strolled through the garden, our spirits lifted by the scent of blooming flowers and the melody of chirping birds. The Pentax ME Super, a relic of a bygone era, clicked and whirred, capturing the essence of the ambiance around us.

In the heart of this botanical wonderland, a delightful surprise awaited us – artworks from the Voyage à Nantes, seamlessly integrated into the landscape. Sculptures and installations whispered tales of creativity, adding an artistic flair to the already enchanting scenery. With each click of the shutter, the Kentmere 100 film immortalised these moments, creating a bridge between the past and the present.

Amidst the garden’s serenity, the city’s rhythm seemed to fade into the background. The laughter of children echoed, the fragrance of earth danced in the air, and a sense of peace enveloped us. The bustling streets felt miles away, replaced by the gentle rustle of leaves and the soothing trickle of fountains. It was a moment to pause, to breathe, and to find solace in the embrace of nature.

As my niece marvelled at the artistic wonders and explored every nook and cranny, I couldn’t help but recall a time when the world seemed simpler, captured through the lens of vintage cameras. The Pentax ME Super, a faithful companion, clicked away, a reminder that while times change, the emotions and memories we capture remain timeless.

In the heart of the garden, as my niece’s wonder met my own nostalgia, I realised that these fleeting moments, captured on film, became whispers of timelessness. The Kentmere 100 film transformed scenes into memories, the Pentax ME Super gave them life, and the Jardin de Plantes offered its serene backdrop.

Our visit came to an end, and the laughter and footsteps of visitors began to fade, leaving behind a quietude that felt like a hidden treasure. With a final click, I knew that I had captured not just images, but fragments of serenity and beauty, framed by the lens of a camera that has witnessed decades.

The Jardin de Plantes, a breath of fresh air in the heart of a bustling city, became a canvas on which moments of joy, peace, and art intertwined. The Kentmere 100 film told their story, the Pentax ME Super etched them onto film, and I, a mere observer, was fortunate to be a part of this beautiful narrative.

In the end, it’s the ability to capture the ephemeral that gives photography its magic. It’s not just about freezing time but about encapsulating emotions that stand the test of time. As I looked at the photographs that adorned my album, I knew that every click was a brushstroke on the canvas of memory— a reminder of the day my niece and I discovered the beauty of the Jardin de Plantes and the timeless charm of classic photography.

Capturing Nantes: A Photowalk Through Urban Charms

In the heart of bustling Nantes, a city teeming with life and stories waiting to be captured, I embarked on a captivating photowalk adventure. Armed with my trusted Pentax ME Super camera and loaded with Rollei RPX 100 and then Fomapan 100 film, I set out to explore the artistic treasures and serene corners of this vibrant urban landscape, and the latest offerings of the Voyage à Nantes. Join me as I take you on a visual journey through the enchanting Place Royale, the charming Place Graslin, and the captivating sculptures that make Nantes truly unique.

Place Royale: A Fountain of Marine Delights

My journey commenced at Place Royale, where the graceful fountain stood adorned with marine sculptures straight out of a storybook. These sculptures, by the Blegian artist Maen Florin, glistened in the sunlight and droplets of falling water. The Pentax ME Super clicked away as I framed each marine figure, capturing the interplay of water and art with the delicate precision of film photography. The Rollei RPX 100 film lent an air of timeless elegance to each shot, turning the bustling square into a tranquil haven through its lens.

Place Graslin: A Meeting of History and Charm

Next on my path was the inviting Place Graslin, a captivating square that exuded elegance and history. Here, the statue of Combronne with his coffee and glass of water, the newer version by Maya Eneva and the Cellule B collectif, welcomed me outside the iconic Cigale café, where I imagined stories of bygone conversations and shared moments. As the Pentax ME Super’s shutter clicked, the Fomapan 100 film brought forth the statue’s enduring presence, immortalising the blend of past and present that this city so effortlessly portrays.

Artistic Wonders of Cours Cambronne

A stroll along Cours Cambronne revealed hidden gems in the form of statues – “homme pressé” by the English sculptor Thomas Houseago and “éloge à la transgression,” by the famous Philippe Ramette both stunning creations from the Voyage à Nantes. These sculptures spoke of bold expressions and the city’s penchant for creative exploration. The Pentax ME Super captured their intricate details, with the Fomapan 100 film adding a touch of mystery to their narrative. In the heart of the city, a feeling of tranquilly pervaded, as I marvelled at the artistic tableau that surrounded me.

Bike Shots: Capturing Urban Rhythm

No Nantes photowalk would be complete without capturing the city’s quintessential “bike shots.” Bicycles, intertwined with daily life, spoke of a rhythm unique to urban living. With each click of the Pentax ME Super, the Rollei RPX 100 film transformed these moments into frames that held a slice of the city’s pulse. It also allows people to keep fit and be very smug about not polluting…

A Spectator of Urban Theatre

As I ambled through the city’s streets, I couldn’t help but feel like a mere spectator in the grand play that Nantes puts on every day. The camera in my hand was not just an instrument but a witness to the stories woven into every corner. With the Pentax ME Super, I was able to capture these narratives, bridging time and space through the magic of film.

Conclusion: Nantes Through a Different Lens

The Pentax ME Super, armed with its classic charm, and the duo of Rollei RPX 100 and Fomapan 100 films, transformed my photowalk through Nantes into a visual tale. From the marine wonders of Place Royale to the historical elegance of Place Graslin and the artistic marvels of Cours Cambronne, each click of the camera immortalised the city’s essence. Through the lens of film photography, Nantes unveiled its soul—a blend of history, art, and an urban rhythm that beats to its own tune.

As I reflect upon the captivating frames that now grace my album, I’m reminded of the vibrant energy and artistic tapestry that Nantes weaves. Just as the city’s sculptures and streets tell their stories, the Pentax ME Super and film quietly tell mine – a narrative of a city that thrives in its own unique rhythm, an urban theatre where I played the role of an enchanted spectator.