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B+W
COMMENTOur reliance on the internet for photographic research can result in superficial
knowledge, claims Tim Clinch. Far better, he says, to turn our attention
to photography books and really get to know our subject in depth.
A FORTNIGHT AT F/ 8Iam writing this column in
early autumn. The leaves on
the trees are turning to gold,
a slight sense of melancholy
is hovering around in the ether,
people in the village are lighting
bonfires and the English cricket
team have lost the Ashes (this
will not mean much to non-
English readers or non-cricket
enthusiasts but believe me, it’s
serious). On another sad note,the great Robert Frank has died.
Robert Frank is one of those
photographers whose work I
have always admired but, I now
realise, I didn’t know enough
about him. One of the great
benefits of working for this
magazine is that it makes me
think more about photography.
He was 94 and had lived a full
and varied life but still, when we
lose a true great it’s always sad.To move on to an analogy from
the world of cricket (alongside
photography, my other great
passion), there was a batsman
from my youth called Ken
Barrington. An opening batsman
and as good a cricketer as ever
strode onto the pitch. Barrington
was an ever-present figure in the
England teams of my youth, but
a shy and unassuming figure.
It was probably only when hetimclinchphotography.com | @clinchpics | clinchpicsAll images
© Tim ClinchThese pictures are all from a
recent shoot in the Rhone valley
for Guigal wines at their amazing
headquarters in the Château
d’Ampuis. The brief was that they
wanted (alongside some colour
photography) some classic black
& white reportage shots. My
client described his idea as ‘like
in the 60s’. I shot these digitally
and processed them using
Lightroom and also the wonderful
Exposure plug-in from Alien Skin,
using an effect that gives them
the slightly dated look required
without, I hope, lurching into the
dreaded faux-vintage territory.
The client was very happy so
I guess it succeeded!THE PICTURESTHIS MONTHretired that I realised what a
truly great cricketer he was. The
wonderful Guardian journalist
Frank Keating once described
him as: ‘The unconsidered
trellis around which the public’s
favourite fancy-dans and flash
Harrys entwined their colourful
summer blooms’.
I think of Robert Frank like
that. His book, The Americans,
published in 1958, was
undoubtedly one of the most
influential photography books
of the 20th century, and yet
Frank himself was never the
superstar he deserved to be.
Upon hearing of his death I
immediately bought a copy of
The Americans online. It is on
the table next to me as I write,
and it is truly remarkable.T
here are literally
thousands of
photographers out
there like Frank. Truly
great and groundbreaking
photographers whose work
can inspire and amaze – and
one of the reasons I think that
so many of them are, these
days, unacknowledged is,