"THE GREY AREA" the grey area can be what ever you think of it to be, for example I think of the grey area to be a wide range of different things. the art of the grey area is really what you make it out out be.
A Sequence of Photographs
We were asked to take a sequence of about 20 photographs that included at least 5 of the following subjects:
> The back of someone's head
> An empty room
> A view through a window
> A small object shot in shallow focus
> A sign
> A worm's eye view Looking up
> An open book
> A gesture
> A note
Here are the images that I made:
I then printed all of my 10 images out and placed them is some sort of order that i found made sense and had some sort of a story line to. Then I was given a a series of different lines from a poem and asked to place each of them to an image, which i thought they would go well together.
THE GREY AREA PORTRAITURE
i want out again and followed the same list idea that I did with the previous shoot and came up with a series of 12 images:
Evaluation
I went out again with the same thought in mind for the "A Sequence of Photographs" project and decided to use back and white to emphasize more on the portraiture side of photography. By making these photos black and white I tried to take the viewers attention away from the colour of the original photo and to make them think a bit more about what the photos mean to them, which is incorporating the grey area in to this project.
A photo story
I was asked to take a series of 20 photographs which has to include the following images:
> A disguised portrait
> A doorway
> Tree bark
> An empty path
> A message
> A broken fence
> An abandoned object
> A glass or cup
> A disguised portrait
> A doorway
> Tree bark
> An empty path
> A message
> A broken fence
> An abandoned object
> A glass or cup
The Story
I placed these photographs in a sequence that i thought looked right to make a story out of, i the gave the photos to my sister and got her to write a short (ish) story about what she think what is happening in these images.
The click of the camera and the flash of the light suffocated me as the police officer took my picture. I closed my eyes and kept repeating what had happened in my head, it was going over and over like a broken record that kept skipping and skipping. I heard the crash and the scream it was like I was re-living the worst moment of my life. When I opened my eyes the murmur of the police station pulled me back to reality. The day started off so normal, how could this have happened?
I woke up that morning, nothing different than any other normal morning. I rode my bike to school, through the sketchy alleyway with the flickering lights and up the road to the corner with the graffitied street sign. I waited for my friends and we all walked into school together. This is when it started to get weird. I had realised that one of my friends, Isla, wasn't with us, I thought nothing of it at the time, but now it is all I could think of. We walked through the gate and over the "black hole", that's what we had always called the black square that sat in the middle of the path, I went and locked up my bike and saw that Isla's bike was there, because she wasn't with us I thought that she just came in early, but I started wonder what was going on.
The school day ended and I still hadn't seen Isla anywhere which is when I started to worry. I called her sister and she said that Isla told her that she was sleeping over at my house. Now I was really worried. Where was she? Why did she lie to her sister? Is she ok? Questions flooded my brain, I was confused and scared. Me and Isla had been friends for 11 years. This wasn't like her. I started to get dizzy so I sat on the cold concrete step in-front of the gate near Isla's house. Thats when it happened. Thats when I heard it. At first it was just a crash. Then the scream. It was ear piercing, but is was Isla. I knew her scream, when we were younger she fell off the monkey bars and broke her arm. She screamed for 15 minuets. This was Isla.
It was coming from the other side of the gate, there was a padlock chained around the gate that was broken. I ran up the stairs and swung open the gate. There she was laying on the ground covered in dark red blood. She was under a sign that said 'DANGER OF DEATH'. Salty tears stung my face. Her eyes where still open. Everyone had always told her how nice her eyes were. She was gone, but still had so much love in her eyes. I shut her eyelids and sat on the wall outside her house. My t-shirt was covered in blood. Her blood. I got my water out of my bag and tried to drink it, my heart was in sync with my trembling hands. I put my drink down on the wall and started to walk back and forth up and down the street. I didn't know what to do, my head was fogged over and I couldn't breath.
I grabbed my bottle, threw it in the bin and ran up to Isla's house. It was 5:00pm so I knew her parents would be home. Her family was like my other family. When I got to the house it made it worse. I saw the cat sticker that we had put on her bin together at easter, I wanted to call it tom but she wanted to call it bob. I knocked on the door and Isla's sister answered. I saw her and cried even more, she called her parents to the door and asked if I was ok. I told them what had happened to Isla. They cried and called my parents and the police.
The police took my statement but I could barely speak. They said that at the moment I was the only witness and suspect. I was confused, angry. I didn't do this. They needed to know that I didn't do this. I told them and kept telling them until they listened. I followed them up to the crime scene and I saw that I dropped my lanyard. One of the officers said that they needed to take me into custody because I was the prime suspect. PRIME SUSPECT! I had no reason to hurt Isla, she was my best friend. They put me in the car and drove me to the police station.
~*~
The click of the camera and the flash of the light suffocated me as the police officer took my picture. I closed my eyes and kept repeating what had happened in my head, it was going over and over like a broken record that kept skipping and skipping. I heard the crash and the scream it was like I was re-living the worst moment of my life. When I opened my eyes the murmur of the police station pulled me back to reality. The day started off so normal, how could this have happened?
The officer who took my picture was nice, she made me a cup of tea, the crashing of the cutlery scared me. I told her everything. I had been at the police station for hours and no one would tell me what was going on until the nice officer came up to me and said I could leave. She didn't tell me anything else, just that I could leave. I got outside and slowly walked home. I walked past everything I normally would on the way home from school, except everything looked different now. The dump looked darker and danker than usual, the tree where everyone put rubbish and junk looked even more abstract and the flickering lights seemed sketchier than normal. I started to feel faint so I sat on the yellow grit salt tub, as my eyes started to shut, the flashbacks kept coming and coming. Until it was too much. I stood up and thought I could make it home but the only thing I could remember after that was the bright blue sky and the white fluffy clouds.
By Peggy Lake
The click of the camera and the flash of the light suffocated me as the police officer took my picture. I closed my eyes and kept repeating what had happened in my head, it was going over and over like a broken record that kept skipping and skipping. I heard the crash and the scream it was like I was re-living the worst moment of my life. When I opened my eyes the murmur of the police station pulled me back to reality. The day started off so normal, how could this have happened?
I woke up that morning, nothing different than any other normal morning. I rode my bike to school, through the sketchy alleyway with the flickering lights and up the road to the corner with the graffitied street sign. I waited for my friends and we all walked into school together. This is when it started to get weird. I had realised that one of my friends, Isla, wasn't with us, I thought nothing of it at the time, but now it is all I could think of. We walked through the gate and over the "black hole", that's what we had always called the black square that sat in the middle of the path, I went and locked up my bike and saw that Isla's bike was there, because she wasn't with us I thought that she just came in early, but I started wonder what was going on.
The school day ended and I still hadn't seen Isla anywhere which is when I started to worry. I called her sister and she said that Isla told her that she was sleeping over at my house. Now I was really worried. Where was she? Why did she lie to her sister? Is she ok? Questions flooded my brain, I was confused and scared. Me and Isla had been friends for 11 years. This wasn't like her. I started to get dizzy so I sat on the cold concrete step in-front of the gate near Isla's house. Thats when it happened. Thats when I heard it. At first it was just a crash. Then the scream. It was ear piercing, but is was Isla. I knew her scream, when we were younger she fell off the monkey bars and broke her arm. She screamed for 15 minuets. This was Isla.
It was coming from the other side of the gate, there was a padlock chained around the gate that was broken. I ran up the stairs and swung open the gate. There she was laying on the ground covered in dark red blood. She was under a sign that said 'DANGER OF DEATH'. Salty tears stung my face. Her eyes where still open. Everyone had always told her how nice her eyes were. She was gone, but still had so much love in her eyes. I shut her eyelids and sat on the wall outside her house. My t-shirt was covered in blood. Her blood. I got my water out of my bag and tried to drink it, my heart was in sync with my trembling hands. I put my drink down on the wall and started to walk back and forth up and down the street. I didn't know what to do, my head was fogged over and I couldn't breath.
I grabbed my bottle, threw it in the bin and ran up to Isla's house. It was 5:00pm so I knew her parents would be home. Her family was like my other family. When I got to the house it made it worse. I saw the cat sticker that we had put on her bin together at easter, I wanted to call it tom but she wanted to call it bob. I knocked on the door and Isla's sister answered. I saw her and cried even more, she called her parents to the door and asked if I was ok. I told them what had happened to Isla. They cried and called my parents and the police.
The police took my statement but I could barely speak. They said that at the moment I was the only witness and suspect. I was confused, angry. I didn't do this. They needed to know that I didn't do this. I told them and kept telling them until they listened. I followed them up to the crime scene and I saw that I dropped my lanyard. One of the officers said that they needed to take me into custody because I was the prime suspect. PRIME SUSPECT! I had no reason to hurt Isla, she was my best friend. They put me in the car and drove me to the police station.
~*~
The click of the camera and the flash of the light suffocated me as the police officer took my picture. I closed my eyes and kept repeating what had happened in my head, it was going over and over like a broken record that kept skipping and skipping. I heard the crash and the scream it was like I was re-living the worst moment of my life. When I opened my eyes the murmur of the police station pulled me back to reality. The day started off so normal, how could this have happened?
The officer who took my picture was nice, she made me a cup of tea, the crashing of the cutlery scared me. I told her everything. I had been at the police station for hours and no one would tell me what was going on until the nice officer came up to me and said I could leave. She didn't tell me anything else, just that I could leave. I got outside and slowly walked home. I walked past everything I normally would on the way home from school, except everything looked different now. The dump looked darker and danker than usual, the tree where everyone put rubbish and junk looked even more abstract and the flickering lights seemed sketchier than normal. I started to feel faint so I sat on the yellow grit salt tub, as my eyes started to shut, the flashbacks kept coming and coming. Until it was too much. I stood up and thought I could make it home but the only thing I could remember after that was the bright blue sky and the white fluffy clouds.
By Peggy Lake
A photo journey
this sequence of 9 images is a documentary of my journey to my football training and the story of that i see on the way.
Evaluation:
These images represent my life as football is a big part of my life and these images is a regular journey that i take 3 times a week, which shows the personal side to these images as it is the way in witch i look at my journey, where as someone else my see the parts of the travel in different ways.
Jack Latham
The Sugar Paper Theories
The sugar paper theories is a book created by Latham in 2016. it is about the Geirfinnur case in Iceland, this case was about six people who were convinced that they murdered two incessant men on the basis of there confessions extracted by the law informant after a long period of time of solitary confinement and lack of forensic evidence.
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The Parliament of Owls
The parliament of owls by Jack Latham. this book is a documentary book made by Latham's documenting his experiences while visiting this place. It is about a privet mens club, which takes place as an annual two week long camp at the Bohemian grove, in Monte Rio, California which is owned by the club.
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Image And text
Create a sequence of photographs that explore the relationship between pictures and texts.
For example, you could:
> photograph signs (especially if they are unusual in some way)
> photograph pages from books (perhaps using shallow focus to pick our particular words/illustrations)
> photograph discarded newspaper/magazines in the street
> photograph advertising billboards/hoardings (especially if they are in unusual locations or have been damaged/adapted in some way)
> make photographs inspired by poems/song lyrics/news stories (remember to include the relevant text as a caption)
For example, you could:
> photograph signs (especially if they are unusual in some way)
> photograph pages from books (perhaps using shallow focus to pick our particular words/illustrations)
> photograph discarded newspaper/magazines in the street
> photograph advertising billboards/hoardings (especially if they are in unusual locations or have been damaged/adapted in some way)
> make photographs inspired by poems/song lyrics/news stories (remember to include the relevant text as a caption)
Evaluation:
For this project we were asked to take a series images by incorporating image and text. I decided to take images with text that is naturally or been put ion the Frame before I was there, so I don't interrupt where the image is and so the images show a more realistic view. although I haven't changes the images at all the Grey area of these images are more intreating as we question what these images have incomon with the subjects in the frame and how they relate or clash with each other.
Aaron Schuman
Slant
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Aaron Schuman is an American photographer, writer and curator who lives in the UK. Aaron Schuman has been published and exhibited all around the world, he also has a number or privet and public collections over the years.
In Slant, it is about the relationship between text and photography which takes its inspiration from a poetic scheme called 'SLANT RHYME', which was espoused by Emily Dickinson who was a 19th-centery poet, who also lived on Amherst where this books inspiration and most of the photography was taken.
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Cao Fei 'Nova'
Poulomi basu is a more factual photo journalist with her following wars and the people affected by it and the grey area is the fact that there are pictures of war and the scenery of it but there are photos of people having fun partying and looking at both images you would not think that they are related and for me it gives a sense of unease of where it will be heading. With this centralia series of photos following the lives of these seeming ordinary citizens pick up weapons to survive makes me think about the reasons why it happened and I think I know what caused them to pick it up but why did they have to this is another grey area zone with the ability to not answer a seemingly simple question.
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