Tag Archives: photography

Malolos: Street photography and ladyboys

Malolos: Street photography and ladyboys 20170225_malolos-nikon_0177-200x300
Sam doing her thing. Pic: Rod Fleming
Malolos: Street photography and ladyboys 20170225_malolos-nikon_0177-200x300
A few of the elusive ladyboys of Malolos. Pic: Rod Fleming

On the 25th of February, we went to Malolos, the capital of Bulacan, to see a ladyboy parade; but it never appeared. Ladyboy levels of disorganisation are, of course, legendary, in addition to which, they were probably working on Filipino time, which makes ‘manana’ sound urgent. Still, a couple of nice cold Red Horses and some good pictures. Continue reading Malolos: Street photography and ladyboys

Arbroath January 1972

Arbroath January 1972 1972-01-Arbroath-10-1024x609
Arbroath January 1972. Sewer pipes on the site of the new road. You can see boats on the stocks at Gerrard’s Boatyard behind. Pic: Rod Fleming

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Arbroath January 1972 . I was living in the house at 9 East Grimsby. My Dad had died the previous year and I was still struggling with it.  But I had a few things going for me: music, a camera and my books. It wasn’t a lot but it helped.

Russ Black, the art teacher at school encouraged me to use its darkroom. I had lost my own a couple of years before when we moved house. This is one of the earliest rolls I still have from then.

The camera was a Leica Model III fitted with a Ross Xtralux 50mm f2, an excellent lens. I used the name ‘Xtralux’ for a band some years later, in Exeter. Film was Ilford FP3. Continue reading Arbroath January 1972

Wedding in Molinot — a photo essay.

Last week we had the first wedding in Molinot for five years. The Bride and groom have been together for years and decided to make it all official.  It was a lovely event, very redolent of a rural France that is fast disappearing. Yes folks, la France Profonde is contracting. Soon it won’t be there at all.

Meantime it was nice to see an event like this, with all the colour, hilarity and distinctly earthy humour. This is the Arriere-Cote.

I don’t know when we’ll see the next wedding in Molinot, so better enjoy this one.

Strömholm’s Beautiful Transsexuals

Strömholm's Beautiful Transsexuals Christer_Stro_mholm_with_Panama_1968
Christer Stromholm with Panama, 1968

Strömholm ‘s Transsexuals: Les Amies de Place Blanche

Christer Strömholm (1918-2002) was ‘the father of Swedish photography’. A talented and influential photojournalist, he favoured direct contact with his subjects. He never ‘stole’ candid pictures and instead always had a relationship of some kind with the person or people he was photographing.

For over a decade, beginning in 1958, Strömholm documented the lives of a group of transsexual women (male-to-female) living in an area of Paris called the Place Blanche. His body of work is remarkable. In 2011 Aman Iman Publishing in Paris republished it as as Les Amies de Place Blanche. The price is a very reasonable 45 Euros. Continue reading Strömholm’s Beautiful Transsexuals

Philippines 2016: Markets and Mountains

Philippines 2016: Markets and Mountains IMG_2155-300x225
Sunset over Manila Harbour

The Philippines has become very important to me over the last four years. It’s now the focus of much of my life and I want to spend more time there. The winters in France are just too cold for me now.

When you visit a country for longer periods, months at a time, as I do, you can’t do quite what the holiday  tourist does. It’s partly to do with budgets but also with burnout. You have to learn to chill and take it easy.

Flying out to the Philippines

Before the start  is always the bit that has me in a fankle. I get travel stress a week before The Flight. No matter how long I give myself for preparation the last few days are a nightmare — and I always forget something. (This time it was the sandwiches for the train — but I had time to go back.)

Because I live in rural France, just getting to the airport is a journey. I take the train from Chagny to Charles de Gaulle airport. You can either go direct to Paris Gare de Lyon and then get the RER across to Roissy, or take a direct train. I do the latter. And after nearly missing the flight on a previous trip to the Philippines — because of a train delay — I always leave a lot of time now.

When I find myself on the platform at Chagny, it’s OK. The pressure goes away. I’m in the pipe now, and at the other end of it is the Philippines. All I have to do is get on the right trains and planes and I’ll get there.

Continue reading Philippines 2016: Markets and Mountains