I know I waxed lyrical about my Canon 100 mm macro lens a while back, and I do still love it more than almost anything else. But I now have something to love equally as much: my new Canon Macro Twinlite MT 24EX.

Struggling to get a high depth of field and a fast shutter speed (at the same time) in low light are now a thing of the past. I’m turning into a hunchback, and wearing out the knees of my jeans shuffling about gardens trying to find tiny things to shoot.

First there was the lobelia to inspect and illuminate right up close:

Then the lobelia and alyssum looked so good together that they, too, needed a mini studio and lighting director:

The rosebush revealed this rather annoyed fellow sporting a drop of water on his head (I had just watered the garden):

I love the way the reflected rosemary stalks make it look as if it’s wearing some kind of tribal headgear. It’s face is reflected at the bottom of the drop. On Flickr I have called this ‘Mantid with updo and reflection’.

Then it was time to inspect the yellow flowers of the tomato bush, dangling from furry stems:

Which then led me to this dilemma:

I mean, how cute is the little fella?!

You have to be really quite heartless to want to squish something so tiny. Okay, it’s going to grow to the size of Big Daddy alongside, but that guy’s just too big to squish.

So I decided that the big guy had done all the damage he was going to do, and was probably going to cocoon himself pretty soon. With a bit of luck he’ll show his wings in my garden for a while, as a ‘thanks for all the greens’ before fluttering off to gardens beyond the wall. The little guy I tried to transfer to the nasturtiums, but dropped him, so he’s probably scoffing my tomato plant from the bottom up. Him and his little brother, which I also dropped.

But back to my Macro Twinlite MT 24EX: quite a bit more to learn, as it can operate on different ratios, the flashlights can be moved into different positions, and can operate either both at the same time or one at a time, creating some more natural looking side lighting. It’s a really great little strobe. Well worth aquiring!

Cold fronts and big swells are on show in Cape Town again this week. And it’s freezing! Of course, not freezing by, say, Chicago standards, but pretty chilly nonetheless.

I headed out with camera and tripod at around five-thirty yesterday evening, and caught some wild, brown seas chasing towards the coast. It was blustery and icy cold … but worth it!

Recording moments in our family’s history is far more important than we realise at the time. Looking back at raggedy pics of the kids when they were little and you were young, one always feels that there should have been just a few more, and maybe just a few better.

So why not book a session with a professional photographer and get some great pics of the family for Father’s Day? It’s as good a reason as any to go and have some fun in the studio. And one day, when you’re sitting in your rocker on the porch, you won’t be sorry that you had those few extra pics taken.

This fellow is just so photogenic. Chef Peter Ayub of Sense of Taste.

Shot with one flash head to the side and using the flame as the fill-in light, we made this pic for their new billboard, which apparently is up at the roadside for all to see (except I have not done a drive-by to see it yet).

The image below was the other option I gave them, but somehow the first pic I took has the connection; the success of an image almost always has more to do with the moment captured than it has to do with anything else.

Isn’t it funny how some days you set out to do one thing, and end up doing quite the opposite?

Like this Sunday, for example. Off I went, quite determined to have myself a macro fest in the Kirstenbosch National Botanical Gardens. With my camera loaded with recharged battery and formatted memory card, my camera bag bearing my Canon 100 mm Macro lens and extension tubes and hefting my heavy Manfrotto tripod, off I set on a somewhat overcast day to do the macro thing.

When I arrived there, the wind was blustery and not conducive to high dof images of elegant blooms dancing on long stems. Not to be discouraged, I headed to the safe but predictable cluster of aloes where I knew I would be sure to find some bees burrowing about in the pollen.

But, blah. I’ve done that before.

And so I removed the macro lens, twisted on the 24-85 mm and turned my eye to the landscape instead. The light, variable as it was, rewarded patience with popping ultra-3-d images. The mountain played hide and seek with the clouds, and the aloes held gasp-fulls of sunlight.

As always, I was first drawn to the park bench:

Then I moved towards the beckoning aloes at the bend, moved beyond them and up the steps, following the cobbled path until I had a clear view of the mountain:

Once there, I caught sight of a cluster of purple flowers against a dark rock, and followed the path higher up the slope, still determined to fit some macro into the morning. But once I turned around to sit down on the sun-warmed stone steps, the clouds were pushed apart again, and the foliage tickled with vivid light, seducing me to remove the macro lens once again:

The macro morning had turned into a landscape morning. But it was still a photographic morning, which is better than pretty much any other kind of morning.

It’s back! The southern coast of Africa lives up to its name again this weekend, as the first of the winter storms hit the coastline. The seas become churned up, smashing the kelp about and causing its protein to turn the huge waves into an eerie, silent, creamy viscous mass.

Everything – shoes, clothes, camera bag, car – is covered in smelly, snotty green stuff!

But a lot of fun it was …!

The dark and soggy Cape winter kicked off with a white wedding in the rain a couple of weeks ago. (Of course, this week-end promises to bring the mother of all storms, but that’s another story.) I always admire couples who are brave enough to schedule their wedding out of season. For a start, it means they’re pretty sure about their magnetism: they know their friends care enough about them to venture out in a storm just to watch them get dressed up in very expensive, very fancy clothes and promise to grow old together.

The other bit I like about wintry weddings is the light. The Cape has magical autumn light (okay, okay, so (probably) do London, and Peru, and Japan, and probably Cambodia also). Most brides are hell-bent on showing off a golden tan in a strappy dress, and and dancing ’till dawn on a wine farm in a hot and sweaty December, and so forget the incredible display of rich colours put on show on an autumn evening. The golden light filtering through russet leaves sets the country ablaze and casts a warm light on the skin, creating infectious catchlights in the eyes and a healthy glow on the skin. On a rainy day, the artist’s palette of electric greys and vibrant blues paint a sky more  dramatic than any clear summer’s day. And, if you have a little patience, the sun will break through the clouds, washing the scene in the most spectacular light – a scene that would send shivers down the spine of any movie or stage director. All you still need is a bit of wind to rustle the bride’s skirt and lift her veil, and the pictures are pure magic.

The cold also helps to create a more festive mood. Fewer guests head outdoors to mingle and tend to stay where the party is. And if you are where the party is, then you have to party, so the atmosphere at the off-season wedding is usually far more buoyant (but maybe that has more to do with the red wine consumption on a cold evening than anything else!), and it shows in the photographs.

Be all that as it may, while the guests are knocking back their sherries and ports and red wine, the rain minimal good light cause a fair amount of stress for the photographer. The couple will have had their hearts set on good weather, despite having booked their wedding in the middle of winter, and will have been planning to head to a certain venue for a certain kind of pic, straight after the ceremony, not taking into account that the darkness will be barrelling in, like the evil guy in a fantasy movie, without any consideration for their wishes. 

But everything, photographically speaking, depends on the light. The good light usually comes … but it hangs about for nobody. If it appears, you have to shoot, no matter where you are. You have to beg and plead with the enamoured couple to stay where they are, take in the moment, and not drive to that pretty garden where they really, really want their pictures taken. They knoweth not what they do! But you do.

Of course, you can’t tell your clients what to do. It’s their day. And it’s about them and how they want the day to pan out, not about the pictures. Well, for you it’s about the pictures. But you’re there to serve them.

I photographed these really lovely people two weeks ago. (Funny how brides never feel the cold!) They told me they weren’t too fazed by the pictures (oh dear, I should have told them then and there that it’s not about them … many other people, like their parents and grandparents) are very fazed by the pictures), and that they would take any inclement weather in their stride. To their credit, they did. They were truly sweet and relaxed, although the gods conspired to throw dreadful weather and light at them the entire day. There was a wee break in the weather, straight after the service, and I did try to hold them where they were. But more powerful people than themselves (the patriarch, for example) felt it would be best to push on to the reception venue. The IPL traffic slowed the progress, and by the time we arrived there, the very brief break was over. The clouds had drawn a dark and angry curtain over the sky, and all the pics were taken indoors, with flash.

So, if you’re a winter wedding photographer, make sure that a) you own a flash, b) you know how to use it and c) that you have tons of extra batteries. And take the tripod along. Far more useful, of course, is to have two flash heads, and to use one off-camera (which I didn’t have here, by the way).

In ‘Eighteen ’till I die’ Bryan Adams says ‘try anything twice’, and he’s right. It’s just too easy to close ones mind, dismiss something as a waste of time, only to continue wasting time walking the same old road.

A friend of mine wanted to try out my camera on some ideas he’s had brewing for a while. Always keen to meander along the path of creative process, I agreed, and so we spent two Friday nights in my studio, sipping wine, cutting up coloured cellophane, moving bits of glass and lights about, and moving my macro lens in and out of focus in the bid to achieve the image that he had in his mind.

I don’t think we managed to produce what he was after – much to his frustration – and so I suppose we’ll just have to spend another Friday night or two sipping wine in the studio.

I, on the other hand, tumbled into a whole other world I previously thought to be not really worth exploring. These pics probably won’t thrill anyone as much as they thrill me, but that’s fine. They weren’t shot to anyone’s brief, and they don’t have to help pay my credit card bill (although that would be rather lovely!). They were simply for the fun of spending a few hours with my macro lens … and I do so love my macro lens!

So, to take Bryan’s advice, I’m going to give this another try, and see what happens. Being creative also means being receptive. You never know what will emerge from the next efforts.

Jay Maizel says ‘Always carry a camera … it’s easier to take pictures that way.’

He’s right, of course, but I don’t drive about with my camera on the passenger seat as often as I used to. Mostly I’m concerned about it being reappropriated by a zealous passer-by (when you live in Africa, you take certain precautions), but mostly it’s because I’ve realised that you simply can’t shoot everything you see. Sometimes it’s okay to appreciate the beauty of a sunset, a spectacular vista or the cuteness of your kid without seeing it through a viewfinder.

This Saturday, though, I happened to have my camera with me as I was driving through town. The streets were empty and quiet, except for a commotion on Bree Street: emergency vehicles, traffic officers, small crowd of people and … a plume of smoke:

Smoke pouring from the top floor of Touchstone Building

Touchstone Building, one of the few buildings in Cape Town still decked in its original wooden finery, was on fire. The fire had started in a nearby cafe, apparently, and had been put out, or so they thought. In fact, it had lurked in a duct somewhere inside the building, and emerged on the other side, to feed on the wooden doors, floors and staircases, as well as the architects’ plans, office paper and a photographer’s studio.

Greedy for more, the one smoky window turned into two …

The fire moves to the other side of the building, on the floor below.

Then the windows down the side of the building begin oozing smoke, and soon it looks as if the battle is about to be lost.

Soon the smoke becomes almost impenetrable

 The fire grows more intense, and spreads throughout the building. Black smoke pours from all the windows.

The firemen seem to be fighting a losing battle

Smoke billows from every window. The fire has spread throughout the building.

It would seem that things must always get worse before they get better.  

The mass of smoke blocks out the sky

And, finally, it’s pretty much over. The beautiful building is gutted. The businesses inside ruined. All that stands is a blackened shell.

Its hunger stilled, the fire has burnt itself out. Not much of the beautiful woodwork inside remains.

Time to start over.

Call it boudoir photography, intimate portraits, erotic, fantasy … the female form is wonderful to photograph, and those of us lucky enough to be living inside such a form, should revel in every minute of it, irrespective of our perception of the shape it’s in.

I’m teaming up with Dance4Fitness to create beautiful, intimate portraits celebrating the female form. We’ll provide bubbles (the drinking kind – and the blowing kind, if you want), snacks, make-up, hair, some fantasy wear if you like, a photo shoot, and a cd of images. I can’t wait to get started!