First up, nice usage of some photography I shot on assignment for Greenpeace in Iitate, near Fukushima, in Japan, covering the nuclear radiation decontamination efforts there. It’s a shocking state of affairs there, the Fukushima nuclear disaster is far from finished and it is estimated the clean up will take at least another 40 years…but of course Prime Minister Shinzo Abe and his government wish to present a clean, decontaminated face to the world as the 2020 Olympics looms.
Here’s the cover and a spread from the recent Greenpeace report which used the images, and which makes for sobering reading.
Image above shows a Japanese worker ‘decontaminating’ the forest, one stone at a time…the moss will grow back in weeks, and be contaminated due to the radiation held within the soil. A couple more spreads below from within the report…
Another tear sheet just popped in to the studio is the below, a series of images shot for Historic Scotland magazine documenting a day in the life of one of their Rangers, and a journalist trying out the job for the day. It was a fascinating reportage and portrait shoot, on Edinburgh’s Holyrood Park and Arthur’s Seat, granting me a fascinating insight in the park life, its history and the archaeology of the area.
The job required it was shot in mid-Winter, but the brief required the images to look like Spring as that is when the article would run in the magazine. The day of the shoot was a cold, dark, grey, winter day. Nothing like spring. But then the clouds parted and for 10 minutes there was blue sky and sunshine. I shot like crazy. Hey presto, spring time.
Alas, I was disappointed by the usage of the images, by the spread. The design wasn’t to my liking so much, but the client was happy and that ultimately is the aim.
Unsullied And Untarnished, by Jeremy Sutton-Hibbert
Ian Borthwick, Emblem Bearer of the Barley Banna’, Langholm Common Riding, Scotland, 2014. From the project and new book ‘Unsullied And Untarnished’.
To coincide with Document Scotland’s ‘The Ties That Bind‘ show at the Scottish National Portrait Gallery, Edinburgh (until 24th April 2016), I’ve published a book of photographs from my recent project ‘Unsullied And Untarnished‘.
The info below, with a couple of spreads, gives you a flavour of the book which contains mainly portraiture with some reportage. I’ve been fortunate and feel honoured that photojournalist Harry Benson, honorary patron of Document Scotland, has written a little foreword for the book, and Alex Massie, Scotland editor of The Spectator, has written a beautiful essay for the book which explains the Common Riding festivals, and what they mean to the participants and communities. It’s a great essay.
The book can be ordered via my website, or via the buttons below. Thank you for taking a look, and if you’ve any questions please drop me a note. At the foot of the page there is a list of shops which also stock Unsullied And Untarnished.
All photographers have lists – lists of places they wish to travel and photograph, festivals or events they’d like to witness and photograph, places in their home town they want to record or document, or if you shoot portraits, a list of people you’d like to photograph.
For some time now Sir Paul Smith, of of Britain’s most well known and well respected fashion designers has been on my ‘Portrait wish list’. And yesterday I managed to shoot a few portraits of him, not in ideal circumstances, and not quite as I’d have liked, but sometimes you take your opportunity, and some opportunities are better than no opportunity.
Sir Paul was in Glasgow, Scotland, to open his new exhibition ‘Hello, My Name Is Paul Smith’ at The Lighthouse design centre. There was to be a press viewing and photo opportunity, and I availed myself of that opportunity. Alas it was a busy occasion, and the possibility of a one-to-one portrait session, with time, was not available.
But I do what I do. I’d adept at making the most of these situations. I work fast, I work around the obstacles, step past hurdles and still deliver, still bring back an image of use. Just like on many assignments, life throws hurdles at you, rugs are pulled from under your feet, but I keep calm, keep shooting, work around things and ultimately deliver. That, sometimes, is what clients are paying you for.
Common Ground. One Welsh collective. One Scottish collective. New Documentary Photography from Scotland and Wales.
Inspired by notions of ‘home’ and ‘community’, Common Ground brings together new work from two photographic collectives taking an outward-facing view of their respective home countries of Scotland and Wales. Working with diverse themes and ideas associated with distinctive national and cultural visual inspiration, this collective exhibition welds them together into a cohesive narrative, at times overlapping and continuously referencing and complementing each other.
This important and timely exhibition showcases ground-breaking new work from some of Wales and Scotland’s most celebrated contemporary photographers.
Formed in 2013, the Welsh collective A Fine Beginning is made up of photographers James O Jenkins, Jack Latham, Abbie Trayler- Smith and Gawain Barnard and showcases contemporary photography being made in and about Wales.
Document Scotland, formed in 2012 by Colin McPherson, Jeremy Sutton-Hibbert, Sophie Gerrard and Stephen McLaren, are responding to the global audience looking at Scotland at this, one of the most important times in the country’s history.
Klondykers, Shetland 1994
Release Date 18.11.15
14cm x 20cm
Edition of 150
“There’s blue on red, red on red, green on black, and that one over there is just rust on rust”, chortled the Coast Guard helicopter pilot as we flew over the waters of the Shetland isles and looked down on the fleet of East European ‘Klondyker’ fish factory ships all moored, all awaiting the arrival of the silver fish.
It was the early 1990’s, Communism had collapsed and new economies were struggling in Eastern Europe. Ships had been sent to Scottish waters to buy up the mackerel and herring catches, and take them back frozen or tinned to feed Bulgaria, Romania and the countries of the former Soviet bloc.
But the arrival of the Klondykers as they were known was gaining unwanted attention, ships were running aground all too frequently on the rocks of Shetland, and on visits into port others were detained, deemed as being unseaworthy. With ships impounded, and without work, crews went unpaid, and the men speaking no English drifted to the garbage dumps to look for items which could be salvaged, recycled, and taken back to Eastern Europe.
I went to the Shetland twice, around 1994, to photograph, both times on assignment, badgering fish merchant agents to take me out to the ships on their speedboats when they visited to cut deals with Bulgarian skippers. Or another time I agreed with the Coast Guard to be used as ‘live practice’, to be lowered by harness and winch onto a moving ship in exchange for getting up in their helicopter to shoot aerial shots of the Klondyker fleet. I readily agreed, for the excitement, for the adventure, and for the access knowing that Colin Jacobson, then picture editor at the Independent Saturday Magazine, would never hire me a helicopter.
Cyrillic signs hung in Lerwick town centre, telling the men of the Klondykers where they could find the Fisherman’s Mission, where they could find God, cups of tea and some help, and you could spot the men as they walked the town, in their Eastern European fashions of leather jackets and jeans. Up at the garbage dump I photographed as islanders drove up to offer the Klondyker men old televisions and electronics, or just to stop by and bring them cigarettes and gifts.
Out on the ships I got lucky and found myself on a ship crewed by Romanians, and I managed to use the little Romanian language skills I’d learned while working on another project outside of Bucharest. I chatted with the ship’s doctor, and he played his accordion for me, we toured the ship, and I photographed as men and women worked, cleaning the mackerel which had just arrived, or played table tennis as they awaited more fish.
The ships have gone now, but the word Klondyker still holds resonance in the Shetland, and of course upon the rocks are the ships which never left.