Thursday, September 28, 2006

Tolbooth Wynd



A side street leading from the Royal Mile in Edinburgh. A mate of mine just asked me if he could use this in a book. Haha! Published, yay! :)

Details: Nikon D70, 10-20mm @ 18mm, f/8, 1/13s, ISO 200. Edinburgh, 28 December 2005. Placemark.

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Kerala evening



Another shot taken on our cruise through the backwaters of Kerala. I've banged on about it before, I've been pretty lucky and seen a lot of the world, but those two days and a night stand out.

Details: Minolta X-500, 50mm, exposure not recorded. Near Alleppey, Kerala, January 1998. Placemark.

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Carpet



People say that the autumn colours look like a Persian rug thrown across the hills, and this photo (taken last year) hints at why they say this, though it doesn't do the colours justice. Last year's colours were actually a bit muted, the summer had been too dry, but this year they should be spectacular if the rain is anything to go by. We're nearly there now... perhaps not next weekend, but the weekend after - especially if we have a frost (currently looking distinctly possible).

Details: Nikon D70, 18-70mm @ 42mm, f/8, 1/25s, ISO 200. 11 October 2005, Gatineau Park, Quebec. Placemark.

Monday, September 25, 2006

Cheeky



Haha, love this! The figures are carved into a pillar in the National Palace at Sintra, Portugal. Not sure how old, presumably late mediaeval.

Details: Nikon D70, 18-200mm lens @ 200mm, f/5.6, 1/400s, ISO 200. 25 July 2006, Sintra, Portugal.

Sunday, September 24, 2006

Values



I took this at one of our events, and use it in some of our publicity material. Works nicely.

I get a bit depressed at the lack of interest among Canadians about the EU. Even intelligent, politically motivated, engaged, and travelled Canadians seem to dismiss the EU as a trade bloc, a protectionist entity, an irrelevance at best. The vision behind the EU, the astonishing achievement of overcoming that entropic paradigm (sorry about that), the nation state, to pool sovereignty in a wildly successful experiment to end centuries of conflict... this seems to pass the Canadian observer by. Perhaps we are a victim of our own success: there isn't much that's sexy in incrementally fusing the machinery of state government, and much of our day to day work is definitely not going to set the world on fire (standardising the lights on the back of tractors, anyone?). But step back, look at what we are, look how far we've come (fifty years next March, folks), and tell me that this isn't a model that students of politics, international relations, constitutional law and society shouldn't study very, very closely.

Canadians especially should look long and hard at our experience. Canada calls itself a federation, in some ways it's more of a confederation, less unified than the EU. It's certainly an artificial construct, arguably more artificial than the EU, and it needs to work actively on keeping itself together, above all in the minds of its own citizens. Ironically the only people who talk about the EU as a model for Canada are the Bloc (Quebec separatists) who argue that an independent Quebec could sit within North America a bit like a Member State within the EU. This betrays a fundamental misunderstanding of the EU - our experience is essentially anti-nationalist, anti-sovereigntist. In any case, the North American context is totally different and NAFTA is never going to go in the same direction as the EU. NAFTA exists because the three countries involved want to get richer, not because they want to give up the powers that make them sovereign states.

Another reason that Canadians should study the EU more carefully is because we have traditionally shared some very basic values. Almost by definition, shaped by our historical experiences and our immediate neighbourhoods, we believe in the international rule of law and in multilateral solutions to global problems. We are liberal participative democracies standing for social justice. We are progressive. We can project these values on the world stage, when other partners not a million miles away are undermining them.

When Canadian politics looks to be heading in a more divisive direction, with those currently in power seemingly intent on rejecting Canada's traditional role as a global broker in favour of military projection, those on the centre and left of Canadian politics really need to know who their friends are. Instead of assuming that we're a club of ex-powers looking to resurrect former global influence, keeping our farmers rich while keeping the third world poor, Canadians should look again at the EU.

(edit - I should just emphasise that I'm not laying the blame at the feet of Canadians themselves for their lack of awareness about the EU! There are several factors here: firstly, the fact that the EU is changing so rapidly, it's difficult to keep up even if you're a specialist; secondly, the EU is such a complex beast, sui generis, exceptionally hard for outsiders to get a handle on; thirdly, there is nothing similar in the Canadian, North American or wider international context to act as a point of reference; fourthly, although Brussels has the largest press corps in the world, there are no Canadian correspondents based there: all Canadian reporting of EU issues comes via London or Paris, and is coloured accordingly; fifthly and crucially, of course the EU could do a much better job of selling itself, to its own citizens as well as outsiders...)

Details: Nikon D70, 18-70mm @ 52mm, f/16, 1/50s, ISO 200. 13 February 2005, Camp Fortune, Quebec.

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Alberta



Alberta's a rather weird place. A bit of it is gorgeous unspoiled mountain scenery, the rest of it is a ghastly flat beige wilderness dotted here and there with sprawling nightmarish suburbs and apocalyptic oilsand extraction operations. I guess you could say I'm not a fan.

Anyway, leaving aside stories of unpleasant encounters with native Albertans for another day, this photo was taken a couple of hours out of Calgary on the first day of our honeymoon. We spent three weeks driving slowly through the Rockies to Vancouver Island. The further west we got, the more interesting and attractive it became. My first impression of the Rockies was how oddly sterile and artificial it all looked. This photo, for example - it looks, well, kind of fake. But I haven't touched it (well, hardly). After a few hours driving through this landscape, with raw, untouched nature at every angle, I realised what was missing: a sense of scale. When you drive through the Alps, there's always something against which to measure yourself. Chalets, haystacks, skilifts, roads, villages... But in the big National Parks of the Rockies there is nothing, really, just the road we were driving on and the railway and power lines running parallel to us. Looking through the windscreen we might just as well have been watching a documentary on the telly.

Details: Minolta X-500, 50mm, exposure not recorded. Icefields Parkway, Alberta, 22 July 1996. Placemark (approximate).

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Champlain



This is the view from the Champlain Lookout in the Gatineau Park, looking north-west up the Ottawa River valley towards the Pontiac. Not so very long ago (well, 15,000 years or so) this would have been a sea view, looking from cliffs out over the Champlain Sea. During the last Ice Age this whole region was under two kilometres of ice. As the glaciers retreated, the earth underneath took millennia to decompress and rise to its current level. Initially it was below sea level and the Eardley escarpment of the Gatineau Hills (which is what you can see in this picture) marked the coastline.

As the first European explorer of the region, Samuel de Champlain gave his name to many of the landmarks around here.

Details: Nikon D70, 18-70mm @ 27mm, f/8, 1/100s, ISO 200, ND grad. 11 October 2005, Gatineau Park, Quebec. Placemark.

Growth redux



Previously I posted on the subject of growth with a photo of an ancient forest. Here's a photo of new growth in a completely different context: this lovely old tree stands in a cobbled courtyard in front of the Chiesa Madre in Sambuca di Sicilia, a seventh-century church which, if my Italian is not mistaken, predates the town itself (originally a 12th century Arab settlement). We visited in late spring, and the tree was just coming into leaf. At this time of year, when everything seems to be coming apart at the seams, this image reminds me that the world will look different, better, in a few months' time.

Details: Minolta Dynax 5D, 50mm, exposure not recorded. Sambuca di Sicilia, Sicily, May 2004. Placemark.

Sunday, September 17, 2006

Doll



We were staying near Lake Naivasha, and had travelled up to Lake Elementaita for the day. On the way back we stopped at the one-horse town of Gilgil where we visited a collapsing Anglican Church and its colonial graveyard. At the entrance I saw a bundle of black plastic bags on the ground and picked it up. Rubber bands had been used to give it limbs and a head, and I realised it was a crude doll. These two little girls timidly approached us and politely loitered while I put two and two together and gave it back to them. They were so happy to get it back, and obviously proud of it.

Details: Minolta X-500, 50mm lens, exposure not recorded. Gilgil, Kenya, April 2000. Placemark.

Saturday, September 16, 2006

Turn



What a beautiful weekend here in eastern Ontario - high twenties, sunny skies, crisp mornings, and the leaves are just beginning to turn (this photo was taken last year, we're still a good three or four weeks away from the full flush of autumn colour).

Obviously we have beautiful, colourful autumns back home in Europe, but the autumn colours here are on a whole other level. The mix of trees - the maple especially, of course - and the early frosts, plus of course the stark immensity of the forests here, make autumn hard to describe. So instead of describing, I'll try to illustrate. Not much to look forward to with the descent into winter, but I do look forward to getting out there with my camera and trying to capture the season.

Details: Nikon D70, 18-70mm lens @ 60mm, f/9, 1/6s, ISO 200, tripod. 22 October 2005, Luskville, Quebec. Placemark.

Friday, September 15, 2006

Stairwell



This is another photo taken during our recent holiday in Portugal (I got kind of carried away by staircases and doorways). This was in the labyrinthine National Palace. It works very well in black and white, I love the air of mystery and the illumination from the window at the bottom.

Details: Nikon D70, 18-200mm @ 18mm, f/4.5, 1/15s, ISO 200, b&w conversion in Photoshop. 25 July 2006, Sintra, Portugal. Placemark.

Thursday, September 14, 2006

Storm



Hurricane season in the North Atlantic and every week or so we get the tail end of some tropical storm dumping lots of rain and gloom over eastern Ontario. This photo was taken on the Pacific coast during a wonderful rainstorm, I wish I was there instead.

Details: Nikon D70, 18-70mm lens @ 25mm, f/4.5, 1/100s, ISO 200, ND grad. 21 May 2005, Amphitrite Point, British Columbia. Placemark.

Monday, September 11, 2006

Fun



We had nothing to do for New Year's Eve, 1999. All our plans fell through, all our friends had their own plans... So we thought, let's go to Rio! So, we did!

Rio had to be the most fun place on the planet for New Year's Eve, 1999. It's a big event there every year. On Reveillon, as they call it, Cariocas assemble on Copacabana beach, dressed in white, and cast lilies into the sea to honour the Virgin Mary, well, Iemanja, a West African sea goddess absorbed into the local strain of catholicism. On New Year's Eve 1999 the crowd was even bigger than usual - by midnight there were four or five million people, apparently, crammed onto the 4km long beach. At the stroke of midnight, installations placed every 500m along the beach sent co-ordinated and choreographed fireworks up into the sky for half an hour, the display was without a shadow of a doubt the most impressive I've ever seen.

The atmosphere was wonderful. All those people crammed into a relatively small area in one of the most violent cities on earth, and not a hint of trouble, just loads and loads of fun. The rain started at 1am but the party went on all night. We joined a bunch of hari krishnas and danced down to Ipanema, went back to our room and grabbed a bottle of champagne to see up the sun from Arpoador point. Well... it was still raining, but we drank it anyway, to see in the 21st century.

Details: Minolta compact 35mm camera, automatic exposure. 31 December 1999, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Placemark.

Sunday, September 10, 2006

Scooters



The seafront at Cascais. Almost too perfect... they look as if they've been parked there by a certain credit card company.

Details: Nikon D70, 18-200mm lens @ 32mm, f/5.6, 1/640s, ISO 200, polarising filter. Cascais, Portugal, 1 August 2006. Placemark.

Saturday, September 09, 2006

Enterprise



Here are a couple of entrepreneurs in the Maidan park in central Calcutta. I was very tempted to let them strap me into their electronic astrologer... but sanity prevailed.

Details: Minolta X-500, 50mm lens, exposure not recorded. Maidan, Calcutta, September 1992. Placemark.

Thursday, September 07, 2006

Chocolate



Mmmmmmm.

To be honest, I overdosed on this stuff as a child. Every summer holiday we would drive down to southern Germany to visit my grandparents. Every friend of my mum's, every elderly relative, they would all give me and my sisters each a bar of Milka chocolate. We would hoard them, torn between eating them and keeping them to rub in each others' faces when the others' supplies ran low. Sometimes, if we were very, very lucky, we'd get a giant bar. I had a special drawer in the desk in my bedroom, dedicated to chocolate bars. I'd take a square a night, an illicit thrill to go with reading Tolkien under the duvet by torchlight, and listening to the 11.30 Radio 4 comedy on my tranny. My supply would usually last well into the school year, but my sister always managed to eke hers out for even longer.

So the purple wrapper still means 'chocolate' to me. Even after ten years in Brussels, the capital of chocolate, I'd rather have a bar of Alpenmilch than a box of Pierre Marcolini's finest.

Details: Nikon D70, 105mm macro, f/22, 1/2s, ISO 200. 7 September 2006.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Playtime



I went to a reception for Indonesia's National Day this evening. I don't enjoy these diplomatic chores as a rule but the satay, the gamelan music, and (especially) the smoke from clove cigarettes sent me straight back fourteen years on a textbook trip of Proustian recollection. Indonesia is an amazing country - absolutely vast, so diverse, breathtakingly beautiful. I badly want to go back and explore it some more.

Anyway, it got me thinking again about my summer spent travelling through the country in 1992. This shot was taken shortly before the one posted on 21 June (global village), and a few days after a similar shot posted on 5 April (freak show).

We were walking through the farmland near Bukittinggi and found these kids playing on a pile of rice sacks next to a paddy field. They had made themselves superhero masks from banana leaves and were having a whale of a time, pausing only to do something even more interesting (stare at my white hairy blond legs). Remembering the fun they were having makes me feel a little sorry for my privileged daughter, an only child who has just spent a long, long summer in the company of adults. Kids need each others' company. She was very happy to go back to preschool this week, and came home this evening to report gleefully that she'd been ticked off for chatting to her friends. Good for her.

Details: Minolta X-500, 50mm lens, exposure not recorded. Near Bukittinggi, Sumatra, summer 1992. Placemark.

Monday, September 04, 2006

Nevertheless



In the summer of 1999 we spent three weeks in a wonderful old house on the edge of a village in the Sabine Hills, just north of Rome. It was an idyllic place. Even doing the washing up was a pleasure: the kitchen window had a fabulous view across the vegetable garden and olive orchards to the terracotta roofs of the village across the valley, and the breeze wafted intoxicating perfume in from the jasmine growing on the wall outside to keep the lucky washer-upper happy at his station.

What would my life be like if I lived there? It's tempting to fantasise. Even mundane chores like the washing up are exotic viewed through this lens. Such daydreams are pleasurable, but also frustrating. I'm a happy person, and very fortunate. Mooching about picturing a fantasy alternative lifestyle only makes one less happy with one's current arrangements. But there would be all sorts of difficulties involved in starting a new life in another country, and in all likelihood the reality would not live up to the fantasy. The head knows it's pie in the sky; nevertheless, the heart persists in longing for what it can't have.

Details: Minolta X-500, 50mm lens, exposure not recorded. August 1999, Monteleone di Sabino, Italy. Placemark.

Saturday, September 02, 2006

Growth



This photo was taken on the Skookumchuck Trail on the Sechelt Peninsula in British Columbia's Sunshine Coast. The Trail winds through a forest of Douglas Fir which was heavily logged last century. In amongst the smaller, juvenile trees are the stumps of many 'harvested' giants.

While it's sad to see these stumps dotting the forest floor, it's nevertheless encouraging to see how the forest is reclaiming them. The stumps provide shelter and nutrition for seedlings: in this picture you can see young trees growing on the remains of the old. Second growth is second best, of course. Take a look at today's placemark and you can see massive swathes of clearcut in the region. But the image of a seedling taking over the niche relinquished by a mature tree is one that gives me hope. While humanity's industrial approach to raping ecosystems is going to cause long term damage from a human perspective, at the end of the day we are a flash in the pan and life will find a way. Call me a wild-eyed optimist but I'm willing to bet that a million years from now there will be no trace of us left, while life on earth will be thriving.

Details: Nikon D70, 18-70mm @ 18mm, f/6.3, 1/10s, ISO 200. 24 May 2006, near Egmont, British Columbia. Placemark.