photography memories – IJM Photography

New from the film archives – On va Marcher sur la Lune, captured on a warm October day in 2016. Could this be a nod to Jules Verne, one of Nantes’ famous sons? Possibly. As I look through these photos now, I’m transported back 8 years—to a time when my daughter still saw me as her hero, and we spent afternoons exploring with our cameras.

That day, she had her Olympus Trip 35, and I was carrying the equally iconic Canon AE-1 with some 400ASA Kentmere black and white film. Both cameras, steeped in history, were very much a part of our lives at the time. And when I say the Olympus is so simple a seven-year-old could use it, I’m not exaggerating—she handled it with ease, maybe even with a bit more flair than I did.

We parked near the Grue Titan and wandered towards the Elephant, a landmark almost as famous as Jules Verne himself. It was one of those days that would just lead its own way along the Loire, and I was completely fine with that. My only concern was Kate remembering to change the dial on the Olympus to the right focus zone. In hindsight, I should’ve let her take the lead and placed more confidence in her. Hindsight—that luxury of later life. Her photos? They turned out better than just fine.

Later, we explored the “On va Marcher sur la Lune” exhibit, which featured a lunar landscape with trampolines in each crater—a hit with children of all ages. The area was bustling with people enjoying the Indian Summer, including a mix of families and those embracing the trendy atmosphere. As we walked towards the Elephant, we noticed how it had revitalized this once rundown shipbuilding area. The remnants of the old shipyards still linger, but the new architecture is resolutely modern.

I don’t know about you, but I’m really getting into this Film Archive business. It’s great sharing these archives with you all, and it’s certainly bringing back lots of memories to me. Maybe less for you because I haven’t published them here yet. But I know you’ll like them as much as I do.

This particular set of photos was taken on Penthièvres beach, located on the Quiberon Peninsula in the Morbihan. It has a special place in my heart. Not just because I like the sea, but the smell of the sea, and the feel of the sea air on my face. It’s a place I often escape to for a bit of tranquillity especially with the chaotic nature of family visits.

In some respects it’s strange going to the beach to “relax” as it’s something I usually hate. The idea of the outing to beach with the family and putting towels down, with rocks on each corner of the towel, and having to watch over children going to swim and bathe, making sure they don’t drown because you’ll get shouted at. The shouting of the children, and worse other people’s children. Getting sand in between your toes and then getting back to the car and having the impression you’ve brought back the whole beach…

But here it was different. Boots stayed on. No screaming children. Just the wind, the heat of the sun, just being an observer and not having to chat with anyone. Being able to capture the beach on film. Pure, solitary bliss.

So, now that you know where we are, let’s look at the camera and film du jour. The film stock that day was the usual Ilford HP5 that I always used at the time, a classic choice for its versatility and ability to capture the subtle nuances of light and shadow. The camera was the Ukrainian made rangefinder, FED 5 manufactured during the Soviet era. Loading the film with this camera is done by unscrewing the base plate, similar to the way one does with a Leica. The focusing with the “ghost” image is spot on and it’s a joy to use. I still love the smell of the leather case too. As in much of my film photography it’s as much about the experience of shooting as the final images.

In the end, Penthièvres became more than just a backdrop for my photographs. It became a sanctuary, a place where I could reconnect with my love for photography and find solace in the beauty of the natural world. These images are a testament to that experience, a reminder of the power of film to capture not just the physical landscape, but the emotions and memories that are woven into every frame.