Old and New
14th June 2010
Exploring a place with my camera has always been one of my favourite things. Whether it be capturing small details of Edinburgh street life or the view from a remote hill in the Highlands, to me it's a winning combination. More recently though, this pasttime got a lot more exciting. After many happy months with my trusty Canon 30D, I took the plunge and invested in the camera of my dreams - the Canon 5D Mark II.
After the initial exhilaration of camera delivery day, I realised that a few days had passed without me doing much more than unpacking the box, charging the battery and giving the camera body a series of tentative, cursory checks - "it really is light..... nice LCD screen.... full HD movie recording, eh... etc" - before neatly packing it back up again. What was going on, I wondered? It wasn't too difficult to work it out. I had become so preoccupied with the idea of having this amazing piece of kit and everything I'd read it could do, that if I wasn't able to produce something impressive from the word go, somehow I would be letting it down! Basically, I'd forgotten about the simple joy of going for a walk and taking some pictures.
So with that in mind and being keen to move on, I unpacked it again and this time put away the box. I headed up to the National Museum here in Edinburgh, one of my favourite places in the city. As well as being a fun afternoon out, I thought it would be an interesting environment to try the camera out in, given the range of lighting conditions all the different surfaces, textures, nooks and crannies would be subject to. Lens-wise, I took the EF 50mm F1.4 - another fairly recent purchase - and one I thought would best suit the lighting while adhering to that general feeling of not ruining the museum vibe with your bulky, noisy camera.
As a child-sized visitor to the museum, my favourite part of the visit was also the most scary. On the ground floor, where the Industrial Scotland exhibits are now found, there used to be a huge water wheel which you could 'climb' by scurrying up a set of shaky metal steps on each side and along a rickety wooden platform at the back. The steps on the way back down always seemed more of a challenge because you could see through the bottom of them to the people down below. Come to think of it, it probably wasn't all that safe, and not too surprising that it didn't last.
Once my reminiscing was over, I continued on towards the large wooden frames of the textile weaving machinery which dominate the other side of the room. My eye was suddenly drawn to the colours and fine lines of the wools and threads which were intertwined with the solid blocks of wood - some hand-tied and others which had become integrated with the machinery to illustrate some part of the mechanical process or other. The contrast was beautiful.
Below are a couple of my favourite shots of the day, and the whole collection can be viewed here. I must admit I am really pleased with them - particularly the richness of the colours against the shallow depth of field. I think the overall impression is delicate and yet structural at the same time.
It was a thoroughly enjoyable few hours - not at least for helping to conquer my new camera fear.
After the initial exhilaration of camera delivery day, I realised that a few days had passed without me doing much more than unpacking the box, charging the battery and giving the camera body a series of tentative, cursory checks - "it really is light..... nice LCD screen.... full HD movie recording, eh... etc" - before neatly packing it back up again. What was going on, I wondered? It wasn't too difficult to work it out. I had become so preoccupied with the idea of having this amazing piece of kit and everything I'd read it could do, that if I wasn't able to produce something impressive from the word go, somehow I would be letting it down! Basically, I'd forgotten about the simple joy of going for a walk and taking some pictures.
So with that in mind and being keen to move on, I unpacked it again and this time put away the box. I headed up to the National Museum here in Edinburgh, one of my favourite places in the city. As well as being a fun afternoon out, I thought it would be an interesting environment to try the camera out in, given the range of lighting conditions all the different surfaces, textures, nooks and crannies would be subject to. Lens-wise, I took the EF 50mm F1.4 - another fairly recent purchase - and one I thought would best suit the lighting while adhering to that general feeling of not ruining the museum vibe with your bulky, noisy camera.
As a child-sized visitor to the museum, my favourite part of the visit was also the most scary. On the ground floor, where the Industrial Scotland exhibits are now found, there used to be a huge water wheel which you could 'climb' by scurrying up a set of shaky metal steps on each side and along a rickety wooden platform at the back. The steps on the way back down always seemed more of a challenge because you could see through the bottom of them to the people down below. Come to think of it, it probably wasn't all that safe, and not too surprising that it didn't last.
Once my reminiscing was over, I continued on towards the large wooden frames of the textile weaving machinery which dominate the other side of the room. My eye was suddenly drawn to the colours and fine lines of the wools and threads which were intertwined with the solid blocks of wood - some hand-tied and others which had become integrated with the machinery to illustrate some part of the mechanical process or other. The contrast was beautiful.
Below are a couple of my favourite shots of the day, and the whole collection can be viewed here. I must admit I am really pleased with them - particularly the richness of the colours against the shallow depth of field. I think the overall impression is delicate and yet structural at the same time.
It was a thoroughly enjoyable few hours - not at least for helping to conquer my new camera fear.
