The Opening of the Film Archives—Abbaye de la Grainetière, October 2016


“They” say that if you leave your child to the Jesuits for seven years, then that child will belong to the Jesuits for life. I am not a Jesuit, but I was heavily influenced by the Benedictines when I went away to prep school in 1980. Mummy, Daddy, let me reassure you, this isn’t about Gilling—some things are better left in the past. This article will instead focus on a different Benedictine site, one that I visited much later in life: l’Abbaye de la Grainetière, a peaceful monastery here in the Vendée.

The Abbey of Notre-Dame de La Grainetière, on the outskirts of the town of Les Herbiers in Vendée (France), encompasses nearly nine centuries of tumultuous history. For over 50 years, numerous restoration works have been undertaken. These efforts allowed for the re-establishment of a community of monks at the end of 1978, nearly 200 years after the abbey was abandoned by the monks, shortly after the Revolution of 1789. Classified as a historical monument since 1946, many volunteers are working to continue the legacy of La Grainetière.

To those of you unfamiliar with the ins and outs of the Catholic Church, the role of monks is to live in community, and their main duty is to pray for us in the wider community. The monks elect a Father Abbot, who is responsible for running the monastery. In centuries gone by, the Abbot would wield a huge amount of influence, but this power has been reined in over time and is less evident outside the monastic community.

When I visited l’Abbaye de la Grainetière, I couldn’t help but reflect on how different this Benedictine monastery felt from my school days. The quiet prayer, the stillness—it offered a kind of peace that I hadn’t experienced for a long time, and a life that was once very appealing to me.

The monks follow the Rule of Saint Benedict, a foundational guide for monastic life that addresses not only prayer, but also how to live both within and beyond the monastery walls. Though written for monks, many of its teachings have been adopted by the laity seeking a structured, spiritually focused life.

I could almost say I envy them the simplicity of monastic life compared to the complexities of modern society and family life—juggling careers, responsibilities, and the endless distractions of today’s world. While I don’t regret the joys and vibrancy that come with having a family—something perhaps lacking in monastic life—it’s hard not to admire the stillness and purpose that a simpler existence can offer. We all have different vocations in life. Mine was to be a father.

As I packed away my camera and left the grounds of l’Abbaye de la Grainetière, I found myself still pondering the contrast between the quiet, ordered life of the monks and the complexity of my own. In some ways, visiting the abbey felt like opening a door to a simpler time, a place where life seemed more focused and more deliberate. Yet, as much as I admire the peace found within those ancient walls, my own path has led me elsewhere—to the joys, challenges, and unpredictability of family life.

In the end, it’s not a question of envy or regret, but rather a reminder that we all find our peace in different ways. For the monks of l’Abbaye de la Grainetière, it lies in prayer and solitude. For me, it’s found in the laughter of my children, the shared moments with loved ones, and yes, even in the rush and noise of everyday life. Each vocation, after all, carries its own kind of grace.

Perhaps that’s what lingers with me most from my visit to the abbey—not just the tranquillity of the place, but the realisation that we each have our own rhythm, our own way of navigating the world, and there is beauty in all of it.

Post Scriptum:

The photos were taken with a Canon AE1, and its FD mount 50mm F1.8 lens, using Ilford HP5 + black and white film.

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 – Nantes November 2016


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.