A Walk to Remember

I prefer my photography to be solitary. As a writer sits with a pen in a room (if he can afford one — the pen or the room), a photographer is a craftsman with a similar creed, a recorder of the world at large rather than a wandering mind. That is, how many photographers does it take to press the shutter button, or how many writers does it take to type the word “blog“? After working at Beau Photo, the lone wolf, with a pen in one claw, and a camera in the other, has agreed to join the pack, albeit at first with the promise of free film. The first photo walk was with our scavenger hunt the Spring before last, through False Creek, and sponsored by Ilford; the second was trotted last autumn through Granville Island.

Recently, Beau Photo has partnered with Another Photography Club / Another Beer Co. to offer photo walks every first Saturday of the month (as it happens, our next one will be pin-hole-camera themed). You can read more on our Events Calendar.

Writing is walking in rain in black and white, smoking grain. Preferably, you’re handsome. The photograph, taken by photographer Dennis Stock is registered here for effect of the preferred method of writing, or taking pictures — alone.

The photograph is iconic; the canted crop of the print, cropped for unnecessary effect by the author, is not.

Photographers, at least those, who have attended the photo walks that I have, seem to fly together — share stories, laugh, drink, debate their favourite gear. We even fly drones. It is sweet to see the camaraderie, in an industry where folks do gatekeep (I don’t blame them, the gigs are as scarce as the leaves are on the tree in the above photograph, haphazardly scanned).

I wish I had colour film; the surrounding area by the brewing company in New Westminster is gold for photography: trains and tracks and warehouses and foliage and an evening that sets over the city neatly as a cotton tablecloth out of a wash over a Formica table.

I lied. I had Phoenix 200. The day was overcast, the photos are sewage. No one needs to see them save for my Beseler Binder. The bike, the bike in soft focus for my featured image, that’s all you get.

How about a gate? A gate’s fine. Fine at an angle of a setting sun. You get more gate.

Boris Riabov