I’ve set up a new blog for my Level 3 Body of Work and Contextual Studies courses.
Join me over there?
I’ve set up a new blog for my Level 3 Body of Work and Contextual Studies courses.
Join me over there?
I reached the end of Gesture & Meaning at the end of December 2016, and spent January on rework and assessment preparation culminating in my final submission at the end of January. I then took February off studying completely (I used the time to set up a photography business and so will no longer be studying full-time but blending study with work, hopefully). I started my studies again this week and decided that after a suitable period of reflection, it would be useful to capture my overall feelings on the course.
I’ve made this point a few times at various junctures, usually as a criticism, but my final view on this is that the diverse nature of the course isn’t wholly negative by any means. It has its pros and cons. Sometimes it felt like the first four (genre) sections were written by four different authors, so different are they – not only content-wise (this is to be expected) but also in terms of depth, breadth and the mix of exercises and research.
However, from the standpoint of the end of the course I can now find the positives: the diversity of genres and coursework stretched me out of my comfort zone several times and in the end had permanently expanded my photographic world, which can only be a good thing.
I was particularly attracted to G&M because I am interested in the G and the M :-)
The course introduction includes phrases such as:
“You’ll look at photography that focuses on the human body as a subject”; and
“This course will therefore develop your practice through a greater understanding and comprehension of the messages given through gesture by the human body.”
Following on from Context & Narrative (still my most fulfilling course) I was looking forward to a deeper dive into the specifics of signification through human subject matter. But this didn’t really came through strongly in the course content – it was something I had to consciously hold in my mind whilst I worked through the course rather than an identifiable thread.
My opinion is that the first four sections didn’t uniformly adhere or even align to this stated body-centric focus, and instead were more like standalone potted genre mini-courses. An identifiable line of argument, or shared foundation of knowledge, throughout the overall course were lacking. In comparison, Documentary feels much more consistent and directed towards a coherent destination.
By this I mean:
The shift between these two is quite abrupt! I shouldn’t complain, as there was ultimately less work overall in these last two sections. However, having been studying Documentary in parallel I prefer the structure of that: coursework throughout all five (not six) sections and a mix of photographic assignments (1, 2, 3 and 5) broken up with an academic one (4).
Having said that…
The oral presentation and critical review essay initially looked to me like they might be perfunctory afterthoughts following the photographic assignments, but the truth was surprisingly more positive. I really enjoyed both researching and pulling together both of these two assignments. I think the ability to choose your own areas of research is the key to how satisfying I found these assignments – it related to my following point about honing in on an area of interest. My experience on these assignments makes me less trepidatious about the academic side of Level 3.
The main positive I identified in the eclectic content approach was that it helped me to identify one significant aspect of my developing personal voice, namely the kind of subject matter I’m drawn to. I talked about this in an earlier blog post, but in summary I realised around Assignment 4 that I was steering the brief on whatever genre assignment I was working on to be fundamentally about some kind of social documentary subject. Finding this thread in my own work was a real lightbulb moment.
My tutor Helen was excellent. She provided a really good balance of encouragement and challenge. She articulated the difference in expectations between Levels 1 and 2 very well, and made me step up my game in some key areas that I needed to develop in, from technical matters such as printing and presentation, through to the quality and depth of my visual analysis and my documentation of my working processes.
Working with Helen made me realise that the point of the tutor isn’t to tell you whether your work is ‘good’ or ‘bad’ but to help you refine and develop your ways of working. Her focus on the process as much as the outcome is one of the key differences I saw from Level 1.
To conclude – whilst I found the course to be a bit of a curate’s egg for most of its duration, my instinct for optimism (or revisionism) leads me to focus on the positives. I’m still glad I did it – the alternatives I had at the time still don’t appeal, even with hindsight – but equally I can see why it has subsequently been discontinued and replaced with Self & the Other.
Now just to wait for the results…
I sent off my assessment parcel a couple of days ago after pulling it together over the previous week or so, taking photographs as I went along so that I could present a record of the decision-making and production processes. This is the second post on my assessment preparation, following the first part on research and inspiration.
The main challenge I found in presenting Gesture & Meaning work for assessment is the eclectic nature of the assignments:
The outcome of that research and inspiration piece was that I decided that the key to presenting the whole set of assignments in a coherent way was to standardise the presentation in terms of the design principles – colour schemes, typefaces, materials, sizes etc) to provide the consistent framework in which the visually different assignments could sit.
An alternative approach could have been to bespoke each assignment’s presentation to its subject matter, changing the materials, sizes, layouts and typography to best present each individual assignment as a standalone piece of work.
However, I took a step back and endeavoured to correctly frame this for what it is:
With this in mind, and putting oneself in the shoes of the assessors, I determined that consistency of presentation format would give a better impression than eclectic presentation tailored to each assignment.
First of all I decided on the presentation size: my tutor tried to persuade me to go 16″ x 12″ as a ‘true’ photographic size rather than A3 (a paper industry size), but I instead took the advice of Clive White, a tutor who regularly advises on assessment matters on the OCA forum, who coincidentally posted on the subject on the very day I was researching this: “A3 or 16×12? Once upon a time it went 10×8 then 16×12, 16×12 is just a short hand way for old timers to say A3 […] Nobody is fussed on the difference.” (White 2017). Between this and the fact that I could more easily source A3 portfolio box, paper and divider card I decided to go with A3.
My next decision was how many prints to include. Again I heard conflicting advice! My tutor initially suggested a few samples from each assignment, which was my original plan, but shortly afterwards she passed on advice from a colleague saying it would be better to include everything. Hmm… once again I took to the OCA forum, where issues such as this have been much discussed. I found a sensible opinion offered by the aforementioned Mr White: he advises his students to present a selection to demonstrate print quality, not the entire set as a duplicate of what is on the learning log. Most other OCA students I spoke to online concurred – expecting the assessor to look closely at 40 prints across the four photographic assignments seems a little excessive.
I ordered a half-depth A3 portfolio box from Silverprint. I had previously used the A4 equivalent and was suitably impressed.
For paper I generally use a good quality luster, and Canon make a pro quality luster paper made to work with my Canon Pixma A3 printer. I have seen assessment advice a number of times that recommends matte or luster paper over gloss due to the reflections from the latter. I presume that assessors spend a lot of time looking down onto tabletops under overhead lighting, not straight ahead to a mounted, framed, hung print as one would in a gallery situation.
I wanted to delineate the six assignments more clearly than I had done in the past and so sourced some thick A3 card (‘greyboard’) to use as dividers.
For the section introduction pages I felt that luster might be a touch too ‘photographic’ to carry a mixture of image and typography, so I got hold of some A4 matte paper.
Finally, for the essay I wanted a good quality regular printer (i.e. non-photographic) paper so got some premium A4 paper with a reasonable weight and a subtle texture to the surface
Once I’d gathered all the basic materials I ran print tests of the images I planned to include, as they had all been done at different times, on different equipment (I have changed my computer and printer during the course). I produced variations of Relative and Perceptual colour profiling and experimented with tweaking the output brightness and contrast until I was satisfied on the match between screen and paper.
I made section introductions for the six assignments, with simple explanatory text, just one or two sentences, plus a sample image and confirmation of what was enclosed.
These were printed at A4 and mounted on the divider card using photo corners.
I aso made an overall introduction sheet and attached this to the inside lid of the portfolio box.
All prints were done with a minimum 30mm border for handling – minimum as some images were done to slightly different ratios to best serve each individual assignment (e.g. the documentary project used 5×7 to better align with the target book layout; the portraits were done at 8×10 as a standard portrait ratio).
I’ll now briefly cover what I included per assignment – a tricky decision given the fragmented nature of the assignments (four photographic including one with a book and one with a calendar format, plus a 16-minute video presentation and a written essay).
I included three sample images from the 12 submitted as the full assignment.
The main challenge was how to present the book version. I really wanted the whole presentation to be based around A3 materials to avoid anything ‘rattling around’ the portfolio box. My solution was to tightly fasten ribbon to a greyboard card and slides the book under the resultant ‘straps’.
As a symbolic aside: the ribbon formed a cross, and the project was about a church, which I thought was an appropriate coincidence.
I included three sample images from the 10 submitted as the full assignment.
I felt it important to include the final image as it is different to the other nine, offering a kind of resolution to the narrative of the series.
I included the final selected versions of each of the four subjects. Coincidentally (but very pleasingly) all four sitters preferred the bespoke shot of themselves, so all four final images sit together quite well I think.
I did have a dilemma here: the original assignment submissions asked for the selected images to be printed large (A4) and the rejected shots at 5×4″. However, as detailed earlier I have been at pains to keep the presentation format as consistent as possible across the assignments. I wanted all the images to be at A3, and I felt that printing smaller versions of the rejected shots was visually jarring. For this reason I chose to exclude the smaller rejected portraits.
I included all six images from the assignment, for a couple of reasons. First of all, six is such as small number compared to other assignments that selecting three or four out of six felt arbitrary and odd. Secondly, the concept (names subtly embedded into scenes) really needs to be seen as large as possible, so A3 prints is the minimum size that does it justice – I can’t assume assessors look at the online versions on giant monitors.
I discussed with my tutor whether to make an actual calendar for this assignment. Her opinion was that the images work better as a standalone set of photographs and that the calendar format felt like a secondary version of the series. She also took advice from an OCA colleague who agreed that “It doesn’t have to produced as a calendar – it’s mainly about the photography. Design of the calendar can be online”. So the calendar format is presented online but not printed. As per other decisions outlined above, my guiding principle was visual consistency.
For this I included just the divider with an A4 section intro mounted on it, to keep it consistent with the rest of the submission – leaving it out completely felt wrong.
I did check with OCA whether to provide a DVD or USB drive with the presentation video on it, but was advised not to.
This is the critical review essay, so it was clearly important to print a good quality copy of the essay. I also decided that the essay needed a cover page for visual appeal, so I took one of the images I discussed (Don McCullin’s shell-shocked marine) and the concept of ‘joining the dots’ to form a graphic design of circular extracts from the photograph.
The dilemma though was how to present an A4 document as part of an A3 portfolio (printing the essay on A3 would just look silly). My solution was to craft a kind of A4-sized ‘tray’ out of three sheets of the greyboard card and sit the document in this recess. A ribbon was added to lift the document out.
And – that’s it.
Wish me luck!
Before going into any detail on my own assessment pack (in a separate post) I want to start with a little wider context on photographic presentation.
As I have probably mentioned frequently in these pages, Gesture & Meaning is quite an eclectic course, being made up of four genre-specific sections followed by two academic assignments. The challenge for assessment presentation is how to present such a diverse array of projects in a coherent manner.
Helen my tutor suggested looking at photographic presentation in other projects that contain a selection of different materials, to see if there were ideas or directions that I could pursue in some way.
Three projects sprang to mind: Eamonn Doyle’s End, the catalogue that accompanied the 2016 exhibition of evidential photography ?: the Image as Question and the Foto/Industria 2013 catalogue box. Each, in different ways, dealt with the point of collating multiple items into a coherent whole.
The exhibition of Doyle’s trilogy of Dublin projects, I, ON and End was the highlight of my visit to Arles this year. It featured a breathtaking array of presentation methods, materials, colour schemes, sizes and sounds, turning the photography exhibition into more of a multi-sensory experience. It made me realise that there are many possible ways of presenting photography and 90% of exhibitions play it rather safe.
I ordered the book that specifically covered the most recent project, End, as soon as I got home. It’s not really a book as such, but I’m not quite sure that the right word is! It’s a kind of a boxset of photographic artefacts. It comes in a white leather-style slipcase, covered in yellow cellophane.
The contents include concertina fold card prints, pamphlets, posters, and even a translucent tracing paper-esque sheet that wraps around a 7″ single (haven’t seen one of them in a while). The prints and pamphlets are slim enough to mount and frame as pieces of art without dismantling them – as I did for my favourite image.
It’s a hugely impressive piece of work, and really plays with what an ‘art book’ is, or can be.
Thinking of how (or whether) to apply this approach to my own G&M assessment presentation: I concluded that this kind of diversity of material works really well for Doyle as he has the strong backbone of coherent content (the streets of Dublin) running through the work. My challenge is that the four photographic projects are really quite different in genre, content and tone – so applying an eclectic presentation approach might actually make the whole thing just too incoherent.
I came away from examining this particular work with the sense that there needs to be a strong line of consistency in either the content or the presentation method. I will return to this point.
This exhibition at the Michael Hoppen Gallery in London was on evidential photography, an extremely broad and flexible subject – the kinds of images included reportage, forensic, investigative, judicial, astrological, even record sleeves. The catalogue that accompanied the exhibition was particularly interesting – so much so that I bought one.
It’s presented in the form of an evidence folder, with all the component parts inside held in place loosely by an elastic spine. It means that one can remove or order the contents in an almost infinite number of combinations. It also means that, like the Doyle work above, one can easily remove and frame an individual print (again, I did).
In contrast to the Doyle boxset, this has an eclectic set of contents in terms of subject matter. Like the Doyle set, it uses different materials and sizes of print, in this case tailoring each artefact to the content and format of the original image. So it’s kind of a hybrid format in this sense.
What makes this eclectic mix of both inner contents and presentation formats really work is the ‘wrapper’ – the conceit of treating all the diverse components as items of evidence. The existing cultural code of the ‘evidence folder’ is exploited to provide a veneer of consistency and coherence to what would otherwise be a bit of a mish-mash.
Again, though this execution is interesting and it ‘works’ for this set of images, I don’t believe that the contents of my four photographic assignments can really be crowbarred together into an arbitrary category like ‘evidence’ as used here, and even if I did go down that route, I’m not sure what the unifying theme and therefore ‘container’ would be.
A couple of years ago I bought this boxset of booklets when I was researching workplace photography. It was the catalogue for a photographic festival that I hadn’t attended (nor even heard of to be honest) in Bologna in 2013.
The catalogue is 17 individual square booklets presented in a grey shell box. The spines are all exactly the same thickness and designed with a small black bar that steps down the set like a staircase. The colour subtly shades from yellow to green and back again. The set is clearly designed to work beautifully together when filed in the box.
The contents are very eclectic though; the loose connection is that they are all somehow related to business, but they range from ad campaigns to company reports to corporate portraits to factories to offices.
I really like the format, as I find it gives a strong, professional backbone of consistency to what is in fact quite a diverse set of exhibitions.
Though they are physically quite different, this ended up being the strongest parallel to my own implementation. It marries very eclectic content to a highly standardised and consistent set of design principles – not just a surface ‘wrapper’ like the evidence set above, but a design style that persists throughout every one of the 17 booklets.
What I took from this is that if the overarching design ‘rules’ – layout materials, colours, typefaces and so on – are both consistent and professionally done, this provides the connecting thread to compensate for the component projects themselves being quite differentiated.
Doyle, E. (2016) End. Dublin: D1
?: the Image as Question (exhibition) Michael Hoppen Gallery, London autumn 2016
Various (2013) Foto/Industria: Bologna Biennale 01 Bologna: Contrasto
Last night I had my final assignment feedback session with my tutor Helen, which I will write a post on very shortly. Today I’ve started on a plan for getting from here to assessment submission in the next two weeks or so. It sounds tight but I’m still studying pretty much full-time so I am currently confident of getting everything done in good time.
My outline plan is in two parts: online and offline:
I believe the research phase of my critical review has come to an end, and it’s time to corral my thoughts into shape. The first step of this is to draft out an essay plan, to give a sequence to my line of argument and to assign approximate word counts to each section.
Stretching the Moment: overcoming photography’s temporality problem
Total word count based on this plan = 1950, so I have a little wiggle room built in.
I’m going to do a first draft of all of the above sections today, with the possible exception of the introduction and the conclusion as I may add these in at a subsequent draft.
I’ve spent most of this last week trying to wrestle the subject area of my critical review (in short: overcoming the limitations of the still photograph for narrative) into some kind of shape, as it is potentially a little sprawling. I needed to get my thoughts down in the form of a mind map and then start honing it down into a line of argument.
I’ve been using mind mapping for assignments for a few months now, and I’m definitely a fan. They help to capture the breadth and depth of a subject, and help me to identify connections, overlaps and gaps. To some degree they help with the essay structure, although that’s maybe more a function of the essay plan (to follow).
I usually do my mind mapping straight into an iPad app, but for the first time the subject area felt so vast that I started on an A3 pad:
There are a few different ways I could structure this essay, and to be honest right now I’m not completely sure which way to go. It will depend on the hypothesis I choose: what angle I’m taking, the point I want to make – this will help me to determine the ‘backbone’ of the essay. The sequence of arguments and the introduction/conclusion bookends will fall into place from this backbone. My approach here is influenced by the fact that my last essay, for Documentary, went through a complete re-write when I conceded that my first draft did not have a strong core hypothesis. I am trying to avoid repeating that mistake.
The basic ‘bookends’ of hypothesis I have in mind is something like:
It’s the middle bit, the line of argument, that can be organised in a couple of different ways…
This was triggered by a request on the OCA Photography Level 1 Facebook group for people to post their 12 favourite shots of the year. I did this last year and so I first looked back on my 2015 set and thought, yeah, that’s still a pretty good bunch of photos. Then I pored over the images I’ve produced this year while I’ve been studying full-time on two Level 2 courses and after a while realised something:
I don’t think I’ve produced 12 great standalone images this year.
At first I was a little taken aback; I’m supposed to be getting better as time goes on, right? Then I looked back over my assignments in 2016, plus my work on ongoing personal projects, and came to my second realisation:
I’m proud of my project-based work that I’ve produced this year.
These two realisations together led to my third:
I’ve been moving away from trying to make inherently interesting images and towards using photography to ‘say something‘.
The work that I’m most proud of this year needs its own context to be appreciated (even by me). The images tend not to ‘work’ so well as standalone images.
This is a double-edged realisation!
I need to find the balance…
All of this reminded me of a post I did a couple of years ago based around a David Alan Harvey quote that I will repeat the salient points of here (my own emphasis), as it was a turning point in my understanding of the medium:
“You must have something to ‘say’. You must be brutally honest with yourself about this. […] Today, with everyone being able to easily make technically perfect photographs with a cell phone, you need to be an ‘author’. It is all about authorship, authorship and authorship. […]
Without having tangible ideas, thoughts, feelings, and something almost ‘literary’ to contribute to ‘the discussion’, today’s photographer will become lost in the sea of mediocrity.
Photography is now clearly a language. As with any language, knowing how to spell and write a grammatically correct ‘sentence’ is, of course, necessary. But, more importantly, today’s emerging photographers now must be ‘visual wordsmiths’ with either a clear didactic or an esoteric imperitive. Be a poet, not a technical ‘writer’.” (Harvey 2008)
I understood the theory of this notion at the time of writing that blog post in 2014, but it’s only now that I’m starting to feel like I’m learning how to put it into practice, albeit still rather clumsily.
At the time of the earlier blog post I made two observations:
So I reckon today I started feeling more comfortable that I’m getting there with point 2 :-)
I like the analogy with written/verbal language and so will stretch it a little to close off this post:
I want to find a better balance between the standalone image and the project – the pithy quote and the novel…!
An interesting insight. I hope that when December 2017 comes round, I will have a dozen images that both fit into their respective project contexts and stand alone as striking images!
https://robtownsendpp.wordpress.com/2014/07/13/photography-is-a-language/ (accessed 05/12/2016)
I had the video tutorial on this assignment with my tutor Helen a few weeks ago, so this is very belated due to various delays between me and my tutor, plus a holiday in between. Better late than never.
I will post the full report as part of my submission prep but here I summarise the key points from the feedback.
We also briefly discussed Assignments 5 and 6 and agreed that these are progressing OK at this stage (indeed, Assignment 5 is already submitted).
Whilst I tried to avoid any direct, conscious influences on this assignment – as it was a very personal project that I wanted to deliver in the way that felt right to me – I am aware that it exists in a context of related works and it is inevitable that some will have provided some inspiration to me.
In this post I look at such context and inspirations under four headings:
Whilst there is a significant body of work built up over the years around the response to, of aftermath of, specific tragedies, I was more specifically interested in those that are in some way centred around the people impacted by such events – either in terms of honouring the direct victims or examining the impact on those left behind. My project is intended to be simultaneously a memorial to the dead and an expression of the emotions that the survivors and the bereaved might be going through.
My tutor Helen gave me a few pointers. Paul Fusco’s 1968 RFK Funeral Train series is perhaps a touchstone for this kind of photography.
It focuses on the mourners lining the route more than it does Robert Kennedy, and the movement of the train gives a motion blur to the images lends an air of bewildered sadness, whilst simultaneously speaking of the transience of life. It’s hard not to see the people mourning not so much the death of an individual but of an ideal, a potential future.
OCA student Stéphanie d’Hubert (who coincidentally commented on one of my preparatory posts for this assignment) did a photographic and video project The Crowd about her individual response to the Paris terror attacks in January and November 2015. It’s a very personal reaction to being away from her home country at the time of the attacks, as evidenced by the subtitle Je suis trop loin (I am too far away).
Stéphanie uses photos and video to communicate “the profound sense of disorientation and disconnection that ensued in the aftermath of these events”. It’s expressive, visually poetic and experimental. It is though a very different approach to the one I ended up taking. It’s good to see however the many different ways there are to react to events such as these.
These two examples both express the emotions of the bereaved, the left behind, the indirectly rather than directly affected. I wanted to dig further to find examples of work where the victims themselves are more prominently referenced.
Paul Seawright’s Sectarian Murder series (1988) came to mind. In this he does not name the victims of the murders but describes them using text from newspaper reporting of the time. Each image is about a particular murder, and the text description is key part of the photograph.
As an aside, one of the most powerful aspects of the presentation of the images is the deliberate use of white space around both the image and the text; it gives a sense of silence and thinking space that enhances the sensation of considering the death of an individual.
Faces of Srebrenica (2015–ongoing) is a collective project by Radio Free Europe / Radio Liberty to bring together photos of those killed in Srebrenica in the massacre of July 1995. So far photos of about 2,400 of the estimated 8,000 men and boys have been collected.
It’s an extremely simple but potent device. Each image is cropped to a headshot (with a few exceptions) and the name and age of each victim is given. It’s the accumulation of similar-but-different faces that gives this its power. One can simultaneously consider the scale of the massacre (and therefore the wiping out of a couple of generations of a community) and of the individual stories behind each picture, since these are predominantly edited from family snapshots donated to the project.
There were (still are) a huge amount of memorial responses around the city itself, most of which are individual spontaneous expressions of grief (flowers, candles, toys etc) – in huge numbers though they form a kind of accumulated visual expression of public and private grief, almost sculptural in look and feel.
Some more intentionally ‘artistic’ works also started appearing:
The city’s official response was a pair of banners outside the mayor’s office listing the victims’ names.
Though very simple and without any particular artistic intent, it was the only act of memorial I saw that was built around the victims’ names en masse*. Looking back, I think seeing this is most likely what planted the seed of the idea of using the names in my project. I had seen individual names as parts of the huge public displays of grief, but this was where the scale of the attack really sunk in.
* EDIT: the Nice football team subsequently designed a commemorative shirt with the names of the victims formed into a heart:
Aside from the inclusion of names, the other thing I took from the public memorials was that I didn’t want to produce work that actually depicted these memorials themselves – I wanted to perform a kind of temporal shift to depict a future Nice where these memorials are no longer in sight but the victims are still being remembered.
I’ve been wracking my brains to come up with examples of where I’ve seen photographers manipulating images by introducing fake-but-realistic text into them. I’m sure I’ve seen projects like this (certainly advertising campaigns) but am really struggling to bring details of specific examples to mind… So I tried some research to come up with examples that I hadn’t seen before but illustrate that the concept isn’t entirely revolutionary. A fellow student suggested that some of Julian Calverley’s advertising work fits the description, although I think this is a little heavy-handed and I was looking for more subtle examples.
I did find Jenny Holzer’s 1990s Marquee images working in a similar visual style, but hers are examples of real-life text that she had placed there, then photographed – so a different execution, even if a similar outcome.
Taking a sideways look at this, one of my acknowledged inspirations for this idea was the work of Charley Murrell in Constructed Childhoods (2010), in as much as that used the device of inserting a realistic element (albeit imagery not text) into a scene that on closer inspection is proven to be a composited construct to make a point.
This is the kind of thing that I’ve been calling ‘magic realism’ (a term borrowed from literature) in a photographic context.
The last context in which I position this work is that of calendar design. To me this is the least important context, as I see my main set of six images first and foremost as a self-contained art project, and a calendar as second priority to meet the brief. I am however aware that calendars do have their own visual vernacular that I should either follow or knowingly subvert.
In terms of photographic imagery, calendars – especially those pertaining to places – have a distinctive look. They are technically high quality, free of blemishes or other distracting elements, often feature quite bright and saturated colours and are generally aesthetically pleasing – an idealised depiction of the place being portrayed.
I did try to follow these norms, generally speaking.
In terms of layout, the predominant style for a wall calendar is that in which the image and the month data are the same size, as per examples below:
However, I wanted as much as possible to downplay the calendar aspect of the presentation and focus on the imagery. Also, the brief asks for one page to cover two months, which led to odd potential layouts bearing in mind I wanted to keep a standard (landscape) ratio for my images, as they are first and foremost ‘scenes’. Arbitrarily cropping to a non-standard ratio in order to fit in the month text wasn’t a viable option.
So I made the decision to deploy a reasonably unorthodox (but not totally unknown) design approach of having the dates run in a linear style rather than the more normal tabular one.
This was an instance therefore where I acknowledged the design norms of the medium but decided to deliberately avoid some of them in order to better achieve my communication objectives.
RFK Funeral Train pro.magnumphotos.com/C.aspx (accessed 12/10/2016)
The Crowd (Je suis trop loin) stephaniedhlearninglog4.wordpress.com/…/assignment-5-the-crowd-je-suis-trop-loin (accessed 12/10/2016)
Sectarian Murder paulseawright.com/sectarian (accessed 12/10/2016)
Faces of Srebrenica rferl.org/a/27114531 (accessed 12/10/2016)
Julian Calverley http://www.juliancalverley.com/commissioned/ (accessed 12/10/2016)
Constructed Childhoods charleymurrell.wix.com/charley-murrell-photography (accessed 12/10/2016)
Jenny Holzer http://interiorator.com/jenny-holzer-marquees/ (accessed 14/12/2016)