Just the one 5-minute presentation this week and many thanks to Mel for sharing her love of colour. A self-proclaimed serial photographer, Mel’s been undertaking a course of study which has led her up many new paths one of which has led her to discover that taking photographs based on a narrative or a documentary or as a series of abstractions can often engage the viewer and ask more questions than a one-off photograph.
In developing this approach Mel shared with us some portraits she took based around the concept of colour. There are numerous psychological theories associated with colour, the more basic being that different colours are associated with different ideas e.g. red is the colour of love, purple is a regal colour etc. The portraits Mel took are an exploration of this idea.
Always learning and experimenting. Fascinating ideas, Mel, thanks.
And now to our Photographer of the Year (POTY) for 2017. The announcement of the winner, Patricia and the runners-up John & Noreen B (also joint winners, POTY grade 2) and Simon, was made at our annual dinner last Saturday. This week we got the chance to see everyone’s entry and listen to the feedback given by the three judges.
This year we had to take 3 photographs based on the first sentence of a book of our choice. It was a challenging task and one that required reading a lot of first sentences! Congratulations to Patricia and our three runners up and to the rest of us, let’s go again in 2018 and see if we can wipe the grins from their faces!
Below are the winning and runners up entries and those of some other entrants.
Patricia; Indulgence in Death by JD Robb
The road was a killer, hardly wider than a decent stream of spit and snaking like a cobra between giant bushes loaded with flowers that resembled drops of blood.
John; Clay by Melissa Harrison
The little wedge-shaped city park was beautiful and as unremarkable as thousands of others across the country, and despite the changing seasons many of the people who lived near it barely even knew it was there - although that was certainly not true at all.
Noreen B; The Spinning Heart by Donal Ryan
My father still lives back the road past the weir in the cottage I was reared in.
Simon, Prisoner B-3087 by Alan Gratz
If I had known what the next six years of my life were going to be like, I would have eaten more; I wouldn't have complained about brushing my teeth, or taking a bath, or going to bed at eight o'clock every night; I would have played more, laughed more, I would have hugged my parents and told them I loved them.
Dawn, Murphy by Samuel Beckett
The sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new.
Noreen O, The Land of Summer by Charlotte Bingham
As always, Emmaline Nesbitt found herself sitting all too demurely on the sidelines pretending not to notice that everyone was dancing, while next door in the smoking room the man who was to be responsible for the sudden change in her fortunes picked up a fresh hand of cards and wondered whether now might be the time to allow his host to start to win back a proportion of the money he had lo...
Cathleen, All the Pretty Horses by Cormac McCarthy
The candleflame and the image of the candleflame caught in the pierglass twisted and righted when he entered the hall and again when he shut the door.
Kathleen, Everywoman by Derek Llewellyn-Jones
A woman is obviously different from a man.
Geoff, The English Patient by Michael Ondaatje
She stands up in the garden where she has been working and looks into the distance.