photography – KarlJones.Photography

I’ve recently been playing around with some portrait work, as well as trying some set activities exploring different approaches to portraiture.

After reading about Richard Avedon’s work on the seminal In the American West, I looked for a willing volunteer ~~victim~~ to help me try something out, which Ben was happy to do 🙂

One aspect of Avedon’s approach that particularly interested me was the lack of conversation with his subjects while photographing them, allowing the silence and sustained attention of the camera to become part of the encounter.

The idea was a 30-minute portrait sitting. I set the camera up beforehand and triggered it remotely, so rather than standing behind the camera, I was off to the side. I had a single 36-shot roll of film. Ben had to sit, with no communication between us, and only look at the camera.The point of the exercise was to actually look at a subject, with the barrier of the camera removed. It was, at first at least, a deeply uncomfortable experience, although as time progressed I found that act of simply observing became easier.

We had a chat afterwards about the experience: the idea of subject and photographer analysing each other, every movement and the decision of what to capture, and the roles of performativity and judgement. I think you can see around halfway through where Ben’s expression and posture begin to change. What initially looks like a presentation of relaxation, or a conscious letting down of his guard, gradually seems to become something different: the removal of any cognitively demonstrated presence. Rather than appearing relaxed, he almost stops appearing to perform anything at all.

In the end, the session was only 22 and a half minutes long, but it felt long enough. As I said, it was a strange experience, but also a useful and interesting one, both practically and cognitively. It’s definitely something I’d be keen to explore more in the future.

You can see all 36 “Bens” below – I was tempted to upload as a gallery but think the series works better as a slideshow 🙂

As part of the upcoming development in Porthcawl, a number of buildings will be removed to make way for regeneration. One friend has coined the name “The Grim Peeper”, joking that as businesses close, I arrive with my camera. It’s a funny notion, but not completely untrue. Much of what I do is centred around transition, and it can be difficult not to feel compelled to document endings.

The Beachcomber has its own reputation and lore locally. It certainly wasn’t for everyone, but for many it has been, at least once, for them. It was great to be allowed inside, but even greater to explore the upstairs area — previously a nightclub space a decade ago, with evidence of other uses since. There is something powerful about seeing a place like this out of its context. The garish pink of the bar, the green of the carpet, the grubbiness of the doors. All would have been hidden by darkness and dancefloor lighting. There is nowhere to hide in the light of day.

the remains of the former breeze nightlclub bar

Later, I went back to photograph the final night. It’s not an environment I am wholly comfortable in with a camera. I am always mindful of the line between photography and invasiveness, something a flash does little to soften. Once I started taking pictures, though, it became clear that people were more than happy to be photographed.

What stayed with me most were the stories. One couple, who had been there since opening that day, were staying in a nearby bed and breakfast. They have a caravan in Trecco Bay, and the Beachcomber had always been their local when they were in town. Since Trecco was closed, they stayed elsewhere, just to be there one last time. Another spoke about coming here after shifts at the fair, also now gone. Someone else had flown back from Greece simply to say goodbye.

I didn’t stay long. I’m too old for late nights now. But it was clear this was more than just the closing of a pub. It was the closing of a chapter. Places like this hold fragments of people’s lives: routines, relationships, versions of themselves that only existed within those walls. By morning, it would just be another empty building, waiting for whatever comes next.

Tag: photography

22 minutes 30 seconds (Ben Evans)

The Beachcomber