The Art of Seeing
Benedict Brain uses a new camera to capture a mysterious blend of place and narrative at the Valley of Rocks
Ben Brain on his ‘carry around’ camera
Equipment isn’t something I bang on about a great deal in this column, although there have been times when I feel it’s important to acknowledge the role of kit in the creative process. I recently acquired a Fujifilm X100V, as a replacement for my beloved X100F. Annoyingly, I fell in the sea and – aside from really hurting my knees – the X100F was trashed beyond repair. Thankfully, my insurance came up trumps, and the replacement (and upgrade) was pain-free.
I’ve tended to use the Fujifilm X100F, and now the X100V, as a ‘carry around’ for trips when I’m not specifically on a photography
‘mission’, but want something more sophisticated than a smartphone. Its fixed 23mm lens (35mm equivalent) suits my way of seeing the world, while its smallness makes me feel photographically inconspicuous. It’s easy to see why so many street photographers are drawn to it.
When I’m in the landscape, I feel my photographic behaviour is more aligned with that of a documentary or street photographer than that of a landscape photographer, especially when I’m using my little Fujifilm. Humanity’s relationship with nature and the environment is something that fascinates me photographically, and this image speaks to that sense of curiosity. It was taken at the Valley of Rocks on the North Devon coast.
While there were plenty of classic views to capture, this quiet shot of a man and his two dogs intrigues me. There’s a sense of mystery, and an implied narrative. I have no idea what the real story was and every viewer will bring their own interpretation, but I like the tragic tension the image suggests, with the dog and the man looking in opposite directions. There’s even a tension in the overall composition, with the sea only just visible on the right.