Photography at Bowerman’s Nose: Dartmoor’s Most Famous Tor
Legend has it that Bowerman’s Nose was once a real hunter, transformed into stone by a coven of disgruntled witches.
Having made the steep, relentless plod up from the Manaton car park, I must say I find myself sympathizing with the witches. Carrying a heavy iron cauldron up that incline is precisely the sort of activity to put anyone in a thoroughly foul mood.
However he came to be, Bowerman is easily one of the most delightfully absurd and distinctive granite tors on all of Dartmoor.
How I Saved My Dance Photography Shoot (When Everything Went Wrong)
As it turns out, booking a photo studio for a full eight hours requires a modest degree of forward thinking and meticulous planning, two pillars of human competence that have remained, throughout my life, stubbornly elusive. For reasons I cannot quite fathom, my professional creative career has relied almost entirely on the belief that everything will simply be “alright on the night.” Remarkably, through some sort of cosmic oversight, it usually is.
How to Take Acting Headshots That Actually Stop the Scroll
Consider the casting director, a creature of boundless fatigue sitting before a flickering screen, scrolling through what must feel like several thousand nearly identical human faces. In the brutal, half second arithmetic of the industry, what actually stops the scroll isn’t a blindingly polished, teeth baring grin, the sort usually reserved for selling toothpaste or dodging awkward encounters on the high street. It is, rather surprisingly, a hint of genuine life behind the eyes.
The Perils, Pains, and Peculiarities of Photographing Great Staple Tor
Fast forward to last week. Having once again completed the gruelling trudge to the top, my heart sank into my boots as I crested the Tor. There, poking ominously above the granite rocks, was the distinct, flexible outline of a tent pole.
Thankfully, this scene was less rural rave and more Carry On Camping (minus the flying bra, I should hasten to add). But with the sun slowly descending and painting the sky in a exceedingly promising shade of amber, I was utterly determined not to leave empty handed again
How to Photograph the National Fireworks Championship: Ultimate Guide & Camera Settings
The salt air of Plymouth Sound carries a palpable hum of anticipation. Thousands line Plymouth Hoe and drape over the cliff edges, waiting for that first jagged flash to tear across the August night sky. When the National Fireworks Championship arrives, it transforms the UK coastline into a dramatic amphitheatre of thunder and light.
For photographers, framing a pyrotechnic spectacle against iconic landmarks like Smeaton’s Tower is a dream project. However, capturing a crisp, colourful masterpiece rather than a blown out smear of white light requires deliberate preparation.
Chasing the Perfect Dartmoor Sunset: A Summer Walk up Brat Tor
Naturally, the good people of Tavistock showed zero interest in hanging pictures on their walls that served only to remind them of the urgent necessity of thermal underwear.
So, alerted by a cheerful ping on my smartphone, I recently sprinted through the house like a startled squirrel, grabbed a mountain of camera gear, and hauled my lobster-red, intensely wheezing frame back up the hill in search of some proper summer golden hour vibes.
Did my smartwatch issue multiple hysterical health warnings? Yes. Did I terrify a few innocent hikers along the way? Unquestionably. But I got the shot.
To Drone or Not to Drone? Photographing Postbridge in Dartmoor
Postbridge Clapper Bridge has spent years languishing on my landscape photography bucket list, yet I had never quite managed to capture the scene I held in my mind’s eye. For me, the magic lies in framing both the historic 14th century clapper bridge and the neighbouring 18th century road bridge together in a single shot.
The lay of the land, however, presents a devilish little topographical challenge, a hurdle that could easily be solved by gaining just a few extra feet of altitude. The very altitude, of course, that has been denied to me by a foolish obligation to pay for trivial luxuries like food and shelter rather than vital camera gear.
A Chaotic, Glorious Month of Stage & Dance Photography
People often ask me whether I prefer theatre photography or dance photography. To which I say: How does one choose between a lovely cup of tea and a brisk walk through a hurricane? They are entirely different beasts.
Photographing live dance is fundamentally an exercise in defying the laws of physics. It’s about freezing a fleeting micro second of kinetic energy, capturing a high leap at the exact moment gravity seems to take a short tea break.
A Heatwave, a Heartbreak, and Plymouth’s Finest: Why West Side Story at the Quad Theatre Blew Me Away
Well, folks, it is that time of year again. The moment where I dutifully pack away my mud caked hiking boots and all the other outdoorsy paraphernalia usually reserved for my occasional, breathless jollies across the moors.
Why, you ask? Because July has arrived, which means I am now custom bound to spend my evenings perched in the front row of the Quad Theatre at Marjon University, eagerly anticipating an absolute extravaganza of singing and dancing.
A Splendidly Still Evening in Looe: Landscapes, Litigious Gulls, and Geopolitical Blunders
Looe is, under normal circumstances, famously picturesque. Lately, however, it has achieved a fresh layer of notoriety as one of the primary Beyond Paradise filming locations. For reasons that defy rational human intellect, the television show’s producers saw fit to declare that this quintessentially Cornish town is actually located in Devon. This is a geographical insult so profound to the local populace that it’s a minor miracle the show’s weekly murder count isn’t significantly higher.
The Great British Heatwave (and Other Dog Show Catastrophes) at Plympton Castle Green
For the uninitiated, the Plympton Lamb Feast is a cornerstone of the Plympton St Maurice Midsummer Festival. It is an entirely free, delightfully wholesome, family-friendly community gathering staged upon the historic Castle Green, a spot where, in 1224, the Sheriff of Devon thoroughly demolished the original castle because the local lord was being historically difficult. Walking up to it today, it is the sort of quintessentially English village scene that looks so impossibly idyllic you half expect a detective from Midsomer Murders to step out from behind a burger van to investigate a suspicious death by a poisoned scone.
The Currency of Joy: A Plymouth Pet Portrait Adventure
Daisy arrived for her pet portrait session and immediately undertook the obligatory grand inspection. In the world of studio dog photography, this involves a thorough, high velocity nose vacuuming of the floorboards to sniff out the historical news of every creature that had preceded her.
Once the administrative sniffing was concluded, we got down to business.
For Daisy, "business" exists in a very specific economic framework. Posing for a professional dog photographer is not done for the love of the arts; it comes at a strict, transactional cost. The currency of the realm was the Treat.
Shooting Cast Headshots: A Tale of Tiny Thespians, Reluctant Flashguns, and Creative Survival
Over 600 images later, my flashguns were quite literally feeling the heat. When you demand that level of heavy workload from portable gear, mutiny is inevitable. Every so often, there would be a distinct misfire, or, more accurately, a flat out refusal by the equipment to continue working under such a tyrannical boss.
Now, a sensible person might have panicked. But if my time in photography has taught me anything, it's that you must never miss an opportunity to call a happy accident "creative genius."Over 600 images later, my flashguns were quite literally feeling the heat. When you demand that level of heavy workload from portable gear, mutiny is inevitable. Every so often, there would be a distinct misfire, or, more accurately, a flat out refusal by the equipment to continue working under such a tyrannical boss.
Now, a sensible person might have panicked. But if my time in photography has taught me anything, it's that you must never miss an opportunity to call a happy accident "creative genius."
The Fine Art of Herding Furry Tornadoes: A Masterclass in Studio Chaos
To say these two have energy is to say the sun is a bit warm. They possessed the kind of vibrating, molecular restlessness usually reserved for a five year old child who has been systematically stuffed full of fizzy pop and Smarties. It was a whirlwind of a dog photography session and frankly, I loved every chaotic second of it.
Shooting Hoops (and Photos) at Plymouth’s Historic Custom House
The venue for the evening was none other than The Custom House on the Barbican. For those who haven’t had the pleasure of standing in its shadow, The Custom House is an imposing, Grade II* listed, granite-fronted masterpiece. It was erected in the early 19th century as a unapologetic statement of Plymouth’s burgeoning wealth as the region’s premier merchant port. It is a spectacular building, though on this particular evening, its most crucial architectural feature was simpler: it was quite possibly the only venue in Devon with a ceiling high enough to comfortably accommodate a room full of basketball players.
Braving the Elements: A Rugged Dartmoor Fitness Photoshoot (And One Very Tired Photographer)
Photoshoot complete, our local fitness hero packed away an alarming number of heavy weights and assorted equipment without looking like he had broken so much as a single sweat. Meanwhile, a red-faced, slightly rotund photographer trudged back to his own car, feeling very much like a broken man.
It was a brilliant day of Devon commercial photography, capturing the raw, authentic grit of outdoor training. When Gavin officially launches his new Dartmoor fitness venture, I highly recommend checking it out, though you might find me at the back of the class, catching my breath.
The Art of the Pirouette (and Other Things I Don’t Understand)
The afternoon largely consisted of me issuing a series of painfully inept, wildly metaphorical instructions, which Lucy then had to translate into something graceful. She handled my bumbling directions with the kind of weary, noble tolerance usually reserved for a Spanish waiter trying to explain a menu to a British tourist who refuses to speak anything but very loud, slow English.
Capturing the Charm of Jude: A South West Family Portrait Session
Being the offspring of the South West’s most accomplished drama coach, I naturally assumed that photographing a baby as charismatic as Jude would be child’s play. I placed our pint-sized star beneath a softbox of such cavernous dimensions it could have doubled as an aircraft hangar and prepared for the magic.
As a professional portrait photographer, I’ve seen it all, but Jude dialled the cuteness up to a level that would have rendered a hardened Victorian schoolmaster misty-eyed. My shutter clicked, the flashes popped, and for a moment, I thought I had mastered the art of the infant portrait.
The Indignity of Editing and the Joy of Staying Dry
Photographing dancers is a precarious business, mostly because one tends to become so mesmerized by the sheer, improbable elegance of the human form in motion that one forgets to actually, you know, take the picture. It is a genuine occupational hazard.
Interestingly, despite the leaps and bounds, my inner portrait artist seems to have taken the wheel. My personal favourite from the session is a stark, black-and-white headshot. It captures a quiet intensity that all the movement in the world can’t quite replicate.