When we moved to Egypt – which was not I hasten to add my sad attempt to “tick-off’ the exotic location component – this myth was quickly dispelled the first time I went out and found that my Steve McCurry impression was pretty wasted on the average Egyptian and my images were just expensive snaps.

Compelling reads such as “Within the Frame”, by David duChemin and following the blogs of great photographers like Gavin Gough, Chris Orwig, Ami Vitale and Matt Brandon and others have helped me to realize that the answer is a mix of craft (knowing how to use the tools of the trade properly so that you are free to concentrate on the aesthetic); the vision (breaking the rules, trying to follow your heart and allowing your creativity to flourish); the preparation (knowing what the light will be doing, what the cultural sensitivities are etc); the graft (going out there time and time again until you get the shot you want) and of course, sometimes, luck

Ami Vitale in a recent review session, encouraged me to slow down and to try and understand the story better, and this advice came to mind yesterday when I was walking past a non-descript blacksmith forge, camera in hand.

Rather than just acknowledge the nod of the two men sat at the back of the shop, we stopped and I gestured with my camera and muttered in my halting Arabic as to whether I could take their picture.

Ramy, my Egyptian colleague then started to chat with them as I began to take some shots. Within minutes they began to suggest that they start up the forge again and show me what they do.

I thought that I would share with you some of the successes and failures that I went through over the course of that hour or so as I tried to work the opportunity by trying different angles, lenses, compositions and style to capture this wonderful story of what turned out to be a father and his two sons running a small family business.

The first image at the top of the blog was one of the portraits I made of the old man towards the end of the session, but the thumbnail snapshot from Lightroom below show you some of the different images I made and later discarded of his son working at the furnace before finally choosing one to process below right.

I am not proclaiming these to be great images – I like them and the old man loved them so I guess that is all that really matters. But what I did learn and wanted to share with you is that it is not the exotic location and it is not luck that made this work. It was taking the time to slow down, build a relationship and to keep trying different angles and composition – even when I knew I had a couple of “keepers” in the bag – that allowed me to walk away with 3 new friends and a couple of fun images.

It would have been so simple to have just nodded that acknowledgement and to walk on.

I was in Singapore on Friday – afflicted by the curse of jet-lag – with my camera in tow, and set off to explore the Jurong Fisheries Port. With the exception of restauranteurs and the taxi drivers few Singaporeans have even heard of Jurong Fisheries Port let alone experienced it, and yet, underneath a fluorescent-lit open sided warehouse, every night between midnight and 5am it comes alive as the fish that those Singaporeans still safely cocooned in the warmth of their beds will buy at their local market or eat at their local restaurant, is bought and sold by Singapore’s wholesale fish merchants.

[/kml_flashembed]
Only yards from the dock where the fish are landed, the warehouse is temporary home to hundreds of merchants and thousands of fish – all kept fresh by tons of crushed ice. It’s concrete floors are awash with water, ice and slippery with fish oil. The distinctive smell of fresh fish is surprisingly muted replaced by the continuous clatter of crates, trolleys and the hubbub of thousand of deals taking place. The sticky humid night air creeping in from the open sides, makes working there- even as a photographer – tiring.

As the fish is landed, it is taken to each of the merchants positions, where it is put into baskets, weighed, and then sold – each transaction observed and recorded by a merchant perched on a rickety stool and leaning against a wooden plinth that usually bears his trading name.

Photographically – other than the challenge of very low and poor light – the market is a festival for the eyes. All manner of fish are laid out in uniform rows, by size and color, looking for the world like a private army assembled into rank and file ready for the march ashore.

The bustle of porters ferrying the bought fish out to the vans and lorries, or carrying more ice to ensure their freshness gives a rhythm to the night; the numerous men squatting on their haunches sorting the catch into the various equal sized baskets provide the heartbeat of the market and the bored merchant drawing deep on a cigarette to allay the tedium of a another night waiting his turn balances the otherwise incessant activity.

I came away pretty frustrated. Not with the location or the opportunity, but with what I had achieved photographically – or in this case not achieved. I just couldn’t find the groove. I tried different angles, different vantage points, different subject matter, different exposures and yet, almost irrespective of whichever ISO setting I used, I seemed only able to achieve an exposure at f2.8 – which limited somewhat my creative ability. Maybe it was the jet-lag, maybe it was the weeks that had passed since I last picked up my camera, maybe it was not bringing my flash with me….I am not going to fret about it. I just chalked this down to not being in the groove that night, made a mental note of some images I would retake and just enjoyed the vitality of the market.

I was pleased I had got out there and tried though. I know that when I am next in Singapore I shall return, and spend more time at this remarkable location. You can see more of the pictures form the shoot in my gallery.

China was grey ,cold and damp, and Malaysia is sunny, tropical and warm – and finally I have unrestricted access to the internet and my blog again.Yet despite that frustration China is a fascinating place and for me this last visit showed me what a land of opportunity it is.

We all know how China has modernized itself over the last couple of decades, and a combination of the Cultural Revolution and the decades of construction have transformed cities like Shanghai from a Colonial city, to an hectic modern urban jungle of skyscrapers, western brands and opportunity.

Whilst I was there the Chinese announced that they now manufactured more cars than the US for the first time. Certainly all the luxury  European brands were a very evident sign of the city’s increasing prosperity.

In fact I had to dig hard to find the “real” China in Shanghai. I made touch with a local photographer, who helped me find a small district full of streets that have been pretty much left untouched by the construction frenzy, and where a more traditional Chinese way of life – or at least my expectation of what that is – still exists.

In these few blocks, street after street bustled with activity – market stalls, small independent shops, Taoist temples, and the quirky mix of tradition and modernity. Yet walk around the corner and you might bump into a Macdonalds or a Starbucks as easily as you would an old man on a bicycle taking his eggs to market
.
Initially I was treated with suspicion and a stream of what sounded like mandarin invective, though may equally have been one of them asking me if I wanted a bowl of noodles. Yet as soon as I showed them on my iPhone the sort of pictures I took, and through a combination of gestures, printing on the faithful pogo printer and in one case the purchase of some amazing chicken noodle soup, the atmosphere changed. Suddenly everyone wanted me to take their portrait.

I was invited down alleys, into kitchens, asked to take photos of the children or the family business. In fact given the complete lack of language it was an amazing few hours immersed in a magical world of noise, laughter and smiles.

The energy that exists in the people I met there is perhaps what is also behind the incredible story of modern day China. Opening the local English language paper to look at the adverts, to see property prices or what was on at the local cinema was weird. I could have been in any modern cosmopolitan city. It really is a country in transformation and one full of opportunity.

But for me, those precious few hours spent in those older streets will be the memories I cherish. You can see more of the photos in the gallery.

Glenn had organized a day of Hindi temples, Buddhist temples, Mosques, Little India, China Town and Arab Street – it seemed like we were doing the whole of Asia in one day over about 5 square miles!

To my shame I hadn’t picked up my camera for about 2 months – a combination of work and family commitments making it impossible. And I learned a couple of valuable lessons in the first hour or so of our photo-day as a result.

I was rusty. No I mean really rusty.

The first indication was that my familiarity with the camera was poor. My hand wasn’t going automatically to the right button. I had to lift my head away from the viewfinder to check settings or to make an adjustment. Although I had set the camera up at the beginning of the day for what I thought the day would bring, in that first hour I constantly found myself having to make adjustments.

The images form that first hour were rubbish, and I missed a number of potentially iconic photos as a result. I was making basic errors over exposure and metering. I  would forget to change the ISO when I moved out from the dark interior into the bright sunlight of the courtyard, resulting in a couple of wasted frames until I realized my mistake,

I would be trying so hard  – too hard as it turned out – to get a great shot that I would forget to check my shutter speed, and expect an image at 1/30th of a sec to be tack sharp when hand holding a 70-200mm lens! Basic errors caused by a lack of familiarity and practice.

As I got more comfortable and the familiarity returned, so the camera began to feel much more of an extension of my mind and body. As a result the images started to be technically more effective. But what really surprised me was  how rusty I had become around the visual story telling. Those first images were nothing more than fancy snaps.

I wasn’t really concentrating on what I was trying to tell with the image. I was shooting portraits with no context or images with no depth or soul. Going into the Hindi temple – my first visit ever to a Hindi temple – it should have been a fertile ground for fresh eyes. The colours, the rituals, the friendliness of the priests and worshipers made it a photographers dream. But I was rusty. I was trying to make every image a quick grab. I was after that iconic shot. As soon as I slowed down, as soon as I really opened my eyes and ears, a whole host of “stories” began to appear.

I wish I could say that I captured them all well. Sadly not, but the point is it got the passion flowing again. It got the desire to be creative, to think about the story I wanted to tell, re-established. I started to become immersed within the story, rather than a casual observer looking on from afar.

So for me I took away two simple lessons from the day.

The first is obvious. You have to become totally proficient with your camera – to be able to set or change things amost blindfold or at least without moving your head from the viewfinder. The camera and it technical capabilities must be an extension of you, if you are to allow the mind to relax and to create. You cannot be open to the environment around you, if you are trying to hard, if you are too rusty or if you are fighting the camera.

A simple remedy for this maybe to start each photo session with a little warm-up exercise. It can be as short as 2 minutes. Glenn told me that when he did a one day workshop with Gavin Gough, they did exactly that. Shoot anything or everything red for 2 minutes and then come back and see what you unearthed.

The second is perhaps as obvious, but arguably what makes the difference between a photographer and a great photographer (and I realize I was very firmly in the former category yesterday). If you shoot infrequently it is unlikely that you will ever perfect your craft. Professional musicians or athletes train arduously – every day. They exercise different aspects of their playing or their training to ensure that they are match fit. Photography is no different. Just getting out once a week or if you can once a day  – even for 10 minutes – will make a difference. Becoming a great photographer is all about working at your craft  – constantly.

I am reminded of a quotation of Aristotle:

We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act but a habit.”

It is a city of contrasts – one one hand the antiquity, the pyramids, the Nile and the charm of the locals yet on the other hand, the bustle, chaotic traffic, noise and pollution of a city with growing pains. It must be one of the few places in the world where you can get 24MB broadband Internet access at home – though in true Egyptian fashion you can’t have it 7 days a week as the lack of infrastructure makes such advancements a lottery as to what is available and when.

The other main contrast that you can’t fail to spot is the widening gap between rich and poor. All around Cairo there are western billboards advertising the latest fashion, home appliance or German car. Yet go a few streets back from the main road, and the scenes are biblical in their primitiveness. With about 80% or so of the country technically beneath the bread line, the gap seems to be increasing. The huge wealth of a few, the massive rise of the semi-professional middle classes, with their gated villas and Mercedes is often an uncomfortable and visible indicator of Egypt’s rising prosperity and pace of change.

I was wandering through some of those back streets the other day, camera to the ready, conscious too that I was carrying in my hand more than most Egyptians would earn in about 5 years. With the average wage of, say, a policeman here about 300 Egyptian pounds a month – that is about 30 British pounds or US $45, it suddenly puts my photography “habit” in perspective.

Around one corner I met this man. Sitting on the steps of a Madrassa, stretching out his hand to any passing westerner. As a rule I tend never to give money in exchange for photos. I prefer to stop, chat, show some images, or print a picture on the spot with my Pogo printer. Nearly always, this meets the mark. They just want a fair exchange for me taking their photo and often they seem to cherish the conversation, the meeting and the photo more than the commercial and more clinical exchange of “baksheesh”

But on this occasion – whether it was the eye contact, whether it was my heightened awareness of the forthcoming holiday period or the inevitable over eating and over giving of presents – whatever it was, I felt myself compelled to give him the money I had on me at that moment. It wasn’t much as I tend not to carry lots of cash when I wandering around in unknown parts of the city, but it was about 100 Egyptian pounds or about $15-20 US dollars.

He took it, counted it, then looked at me and pointed at the camera. He shifted his pose and nodded. As I put the viewfinder to my eye, out shot his hand in that familiar pose. As I thanked him and gave him a print there and then, a small tear appeared at is eye. Out came his hand again and he gave me the money back. Now it was me that was close to tears as I saw how much more the picture meant to him than the money.

The whole exchange, despite there being money involved, had a dignity and pathos about it.

So wherever you are in the world, as we go into this period of festivities, family gatherings and indulgence, don’t just pass the person on the street by. Stop, chat and share. Sometimes all they want is to know that you care.