yppahpeek

Yesterday, we voyaged to the Derbyshire Peak District, and knowing that there can be a lot of dry, scrubby moorland I almost didn't take my camera. After eating in a tasty tea-room we traveled to Longshaw Estate. Architecturely eye catching, with it's cubic, node-like construction, the Hall looked out over stunning scenery and would probably have made a great photo, especially with such perfect lighting conditions. However, I struggle in bright sunlight always setting the shutter speed to low, the aperture too high and ending up with a white wash! I really need to learn how to take photos in bright sunlight. I managed to get an OK picture of Longshaw Hall, using some grass in front of it to focus on. I wanted to take a rare picture of a place that will have had films and films of photographs taken. I didn't think this was a very good shot so I won't upload it, but it goes to show that it's always good to carry a camera, so as moments like this are not missed. The be...

Wonderfully challenging. But what should it be called? A documentary? An essay? A film? Why #allwatchedover wasn't trending on twitter the night it was aired, and #embarrassingfatbodies was, could possibly be due to the fact that to describe it in 140 characters would be a gross injustice. At times confusing, at other times interesting and at further times downright terrifying, All Watched Over by Machines of Loving Grace tells the story of how 'machines' have changed us in the last 50 years. On one level it is a strangely beautiful documentary and it looks visually different to documentaries of it's type, of which I would include Horizon and perhaps even programmes like A History of Modern Britain. Rather than relying on lengthy, talk-to-the-camera pieces in exotic and/or culturally significant locations, the story is narrated by a face-less Adam Curtis and is set to the kind of stock footage you would expect to see being played in a Utopian mental asylum. As someone w...

Ant and Dec made a very poignant point at the end of last nights super-sparkly finale. "Thanks to all our contestants, to everyone who came to the auditions. Without you, there would be no show." I dream of the day that the doors open at the auditions and no-one remembers to turn up. Ant and Dec sit awkwardly on stools, the judges play music from happier times, the camera man films a pigeon eating an old kebab in the carpark. Eventually the boredom gets too much and everyone will slump out of the building. Last out would be the caretaker, who will turn the light off and say "well that's that then" before closing the door to the party forever. Britain has got so much talent. It's just that people are looking in the wrong place. Sure the next molded popstar to come through the show successfully is a reasonably good singer and I'm sure he and his family are very happy for him. But, within a year, I predict he will be sitting in a pub outside Aberdeen having...