Hasselblad - Vintage Love

I love photography, I live and breathe it. 

So I'm delighted to introduce the latest edition to my camera collection.... A Hasselblad 500c from 1957, Isn't it gorgeous?

I've cleaned the camera, its lenses and numerous, beautiful accessories. I've read all the original manuals, still in perfect condition that were tucked neatly in the front pocket of the leather kit bag. The 120 roll film has arrived, so ready to go! 

It has been a while since I used film. At college I managed to source a Large Format 5x4 camera and the most sturdy tripod to be found to take the weight of it. Both of these things could hardly be carried, but the results from the camera were worth all the effort of lugging the equipment around.

It will take more than a couple of rolls of film to get used to this Medium Format camera, there will no doubt be more than a few mistakes, but images that happen to be blurry or imperfect, that are shot on film, can turn out to be beautiful mistakes.

Another consideration is that in these days of digital photography, buying film and having it processed isn't cheap, every time the shutter is clicked it will cost. That all being said, I'm delighted with this new addition and have already begun getting to grips with analogue again.

I'm also working towards a new exhibition (more details coming soon) and I plan to shoot a collection of images using these wonderful vintage cameras.

The Kasbah

The double doors to the forecourt are twenty feet high.  A giant negro slave opens the lock with a key a foot long and sets his shoulder to the iron-bossed wood; the door gives way reluctantly, inch by inch, creaking and rasping upon rusty hinges.  A kestrel hawk, disturbed from its nest in the wall above, flies out scolding with sharp staccato cries.  The surface of the courtyard is an uneven rubble, sloping sharply to the left, down to the curtain wall, where row upon row of dark doorways lead to the stable quarters. Above them are castellated look-out posts facing the Jebel Ghat.  There is sheep dung scattered among the rubble, and the reddish curling horn of a Moroccan ram.  To the right rises the whole mass of the Kasbah, tower and rooftop; ill-ordered, ill-planned, but majestic in its proliferation and complete absence of symmetry.  There are three colours only – whitewash, red stone, or clay and brilliant green roof tiles.  Above these the ever-present birds of prey, the vultures, ravens, and kites, weave slow and intricate patterns upon the hard blue sky.  There is no sound but their calling and the clacking bills of the storks which nest on every tower.

- from Lords of the Atlas by Gavin Maxwell

Happy Monks

Whilst travelling, some of the best days are when you discover things by happy accident.  Driving through north eastern Spain, we picked the town of Moncayo at random because it had a campsite and while staying there we discovered another beautiful monastery, the Cistercian Veruela Monastery, with its own winery and museum.

This spectacular monastery has existed here since 1145 and now has at its heart a wine museum of the Campo de Borja wine denomination, an innovating area where tradition and modernity come together (more on the delicious wine and the museum in another blog post).  It was interesting to learn that the monks liked making wine here (and probably drinking it too)! Inside the monastery there was also an art exhibition, another space where old meets new.  

 

Small Faces of Toledo, Spain

On our travels this summer, driving from Scotland to the Sahara desert, we stopped off for two nights at a beautiful campsite in Toledo. Campground El Greco was only a short walk away from the old town of Toledo and we enjoyed wandering around the medieval streets, stopping off every now and again at pavement cafes to people watch over liquid refreshment. 

Late in the afternoon, to escape the heat, we walked around the Monasterio de San Juan de los Reyes. I spent a few quiet moments exploring alone while my other half read up on the history of the place. 

I noticed how excessively lavish the decoration was, no square inch was lacking in complicated and lacy carving. There were many carvings of children, animals and plant life. I became fascinated with them and spent the rest of the afternoon searching the walls to capture them with my camera.

Oh, to live in a Windmill...

Life back at LHM Photo HQ is pretty dull after our wonderful adventures this summer, driving in Herman our VW Campervan from Scotland to the Sahara and back again. We are already planning our next journey...Scotland to Dakar maybe??

Here on my photo blog, I'll be posting many images of our journey, and to begin with, a collection of windmills...my ideal home.

Ever since I saw Windy Miller in his windmill in Camberwick Green, Trumptonshire, I've fancied living in one.

These windmills are in the Spanish town of Consuegra, a beautiful little place we stumbled upon on our travels from Toledo to Cordoba.

Our home in Scotland is currently on the market and yes, I would love to live in a windmill.