A catch up on all things photographic or otherwise.

Evening all (or morning, rather, as it is approaching 1am as I write this). Things have been stacking up rather a lot recently - Uni. work, exhibition planning and generally having a life - and so updating my blog has taken somewhat of a back seat. It has been over a week now since I have written anything on here, and quite frankly I feel guilty. Perhaps this is a state of mind I should be worried about, feeling guilty for not talking to a computer, and I should possibly contact a psychiatrist. Anywho. This post is to catch up on the rather large backlog of news, information and thoughts from the past couple of weeks.

Let's start with a couple of said thoughts. Over the past few weeks I feel I have discovered a few things about myself - or rather about how I relate myself to photography. It all started when a friend of mine came very close to leaving the Press & Editorial Photography course; the reasons: because so far we have simply been filling crappy sketchbooks to meet deadlines; because photojournalism appears to be too exploitative; and that the photography industry is apparently full of arseholes. A fair critique, I felt. It got me thinking, too, about whether this was the right place for me. Sure, I have been having a great time meeting interesting people and learning a myriad of new skills, but what was I actually achieving? Like my friend, I had thus far only been shooting work for the briefs, and not shooting anything personal for myself. Furthermore - as we engaged in many disparate conversations about the world of photojournalism - it was becoming increasingly apparent that photography is one of the most egocentric mediums, with a who-owns-the-best-camera mentality giving birth to a breed of people who seem to think that because they are a 'photojournalist' they have the right to poke their lens in to other peoples' private affairs. And I should know - I've done it myself. The very project I am working on at the moment appears to be everything I have come to dislike about certain aspects of photojournalism.


The aforementioned project is about the homeless of Newquay (and everything surrounding their lives), with the hopeful intention of shedding light upon an area often fogged with doubt and uncertainty. I have also begun to photograph the lives of young adults (16-25) who have either run away from or have been forced to leave their homes. Instead, they live in a small flat in the centre of Newquay as part of what has become known as 'The Turnaround Project', or 'Turnaround' for short. Turnaround - a Christian organisation - aims to accommodate, rehabilitate and educate the youngsters, as well as teaching them to be self-sufficient around the home and their general lives. The images so far go a little something like this:

As I mentioned before, I have been having somewhat of an inward-facing battle with myself over the past few weeks about the ethics of this. In one hand the Turnaround Project are happy for me to be there, and the youngsters themselves appear to be comfortable. But as I thought about how I first introduced myself to their lives, I realised just how ridiculous it sounded. I am conducting a 'project' - I have also come to dislike categorising people as 'projects', but it will do for now until I can think of a better word to apply - on the homeless population of Newquay, ranging from rough sleepers to, in the case of Turnaround, the accommodated, but all are without any real 'home'. What, then, has given me the right photograph these people? These people who, in relation to me, have nothing (although the youngsters at Turnaround have come to call the apartment home, it is not exactly the same deal). When I really think about it, the only reason why I chose to do this 'project' was because I simply got lucky with the access way back in February. But to tell you the truth, I believe I have matured as both a person and a photographer since then, and I that simply "having access" doesn't constitute a reason for carrying out a 'project'. I want to do a project about something that I feel moves or inspires me - not that a lot of what I have seen doesn't inspire me, I have met some amazing people - but, and again I go back to the reason why I started this in the first place, I don't feel as though I truly deserve their attention. It is almost as if I am making a story just becuase of their position in life, which makes me feel very uncertain as a photographer. These days, I find that the stories that hold me the most are not this which document hard core subjects such as homelessness, but smaller stories which make you think - "wow, I had no idea such people existed". A great example of this is a recent piece by r Jono Rotman, who produced some amazing - but simple - portraits of the Mongrel Mob, a New Zealand-based gang. This work for me made me realise just how effective a simple body of work can be.

Back to the matter at hand, and of course, if I could help any of these people in some way I would be extremely happy. In fact things are already beginning to take shape in regards to different charities. I have recently been in contact with a representative of Emmaus UK, one of the biggest homeless charities. Conversation has started in regards to exhibiting my work as a fund-raising tool as well as general propaganda. And that, I think, would give me the right to photograph these incredible people.

As far as everything else is concerned, things are going swimmingly, albeit extremely busy. My year and I are ploughing ahead with exhibition planning, with the whole thing starting to shape up rather nicely. Follow this link to the Pig House Pictures Facebook page (see previous post for details on that). We have also organised a smashing after-party to be held at Toast in Falouth to really see-off the opening night of our first year exhibition (which will be on display at the Royal Cornwall Polytechnic Society from the 8th - 14th May). As well as all that, we also have plans for a pocket-sized publication in the pipeline; more on that to follow soon!

Oh, and before I forget, I have photographed my first wedding! ("Hoorah", "Hazzah!"). The big day was last weekend, in fact, and was a friend of mine's in Newquay. It was quite a nerve-racking day to say the least, and needless to say I learnt a fair few lessons in photographic management! But enough spiel for now, stay tuned (if anyone does indeed 'tune' to this) for wedding photographs galore. I'm not entirely sure if I should be admitting such a thing on a photojournalism blog.

S

we're all hypocrites...

As I seem to have somewhat of a hiatus in regards to the amount shoots I am doing at the moment, I find myself thinking more and more about, well, nothing in particular, but everything at the same time. For example, just two days ago I appeared to have a Platonist discussion with myself about whether photography really should be as objective as everyone says it does. Sure, in journalistic photography, putting a truth-less spin on an image - specifically with the use of misleading captions - is pretty much like putting a gun to your head and saying goodbye to your credibility (note the uproar regarding the misleading caption TIME set against the portrait of Afghan woman Bibi Aisha, discussed quite elloquently here by photographer  David Campbell). 

But - and this is a big but given that I appear to be going through some sort of philosophical epoch - I see photography as being a very personal medium. As photojournalists especially, but this can apply to all walks of the medium, we photograph the way we see things, surely? I do. Of course, without the subjects being there, doing what they are doing, there would be nothing to photograph; as Salgado said: "The subjects make the picture, not the photographer"... at least I think he did. Anyway. Ultimately it is the person holding the camera who decides how to photograph the situation and, whether they like it or not, the resulting image must, in some minute way, be influenced by the way they feel about said situation. Take, for example, pretty much the entirety of Martin Parr's work. No matter how much he says that he was merely documenting what he saw and not shooting to criticise or judge, one cannot look at the images and believe that there was not at least a glimmer of judgement involved - otherwise he wouldn't have photographed such subjects as pasty Englishmen on a beach burning there bald heads. There must have been a time whilst shooting the content for, say, The Last Resort when he saw a fat bloke with a bacon sandwich in his hand and thought "Yeah, he looks stereotypical enough". I'm not quite sure where I am going with this subject so I will leave it there. Like I said, it was just a thought.

What I really wanted to talk about in this post was concerning the recent rant I had about a few aspects of photography which get on my wick, namely 'over-networking' and hypocritical exhibits. Now, I met quite a bit of opposition from a couple of people who read the post, and I admit I may have been a tad brash in a few of my statements - being unable to sleep and a throat infection does nothing for my mood - but I still stand firm in my most basic of points. One of said points was that I believe too much time is spent networking (I will use this term instead of 'ass-kissing' from now on). After splattering my blog over Facebook and Twitter I got varied responses, some agreed, some disagreed, and some were indifferent. One person who took particular interest was Holly Hayward, who decided to construct a far more level-headed approach to the argument. I tip my hat to her. She too agreed on "The apparent need for photographers to be accepted and ‘liked’ by other industry members". But as I sat back and watched the discussions flow on both social networking sights, I realised that in writing what I did about 'over-networking', I too was in fact networking, in some small way, myself. After just a few hours my blog post had worked its way around the Press & Editorial Photography's Facebook page; a few family members and friends picked up on it after I posted it on my homepage. From there, my course tutor picked it up as well as my second year mentor Jon Brownhill. Jon subsequently posted it on his Twitter page with the caption "Some more thoughts of a young photographer, probably soon to be followed by my own". Once on Twitter the post was viewed by a couple more second years as well as the second year's main tutor Tom Ingate, who commented "Some interesting points that need discussing". Before I knew it my post had nearly 100 views in just one day and my name was known by a few more photographers, however local to Falmouth.

My point is, if there is any point to this post, I'm not quite sure, that we are constantly networking ourselves by maintaining blogs and websites such as my own. As David White said on his particularly well-known blog Duckrabbit: "You are the mainstream media. You and your friends, and your friends friends. You’re the wires and you are the electricity along which the message travels, and if you want to be, you can even be the message too.". Obviously there will always be the need for physical networking (not too much, mind), but it is an interesting thought nonetheless (my life seems to be full of 'interesting thoughts'). 

Before signing off and posting this blog on to Facebook and Twitter once again, thus advancing my mediocre rise to global photographic domination, I would like to refer back to Holly's post again, in which she pointed out how, to paraphrase, there is too much time spent worrying whether a subject has been 'done before'. As she put it: "if we want to raise awareness, then surely that can only be positive?". I must admit I have had such incriminating thoughts about the project I am doing with the homeless of Newquay at the moment, but upon reading what Holly wrote I decided this: Haters gonna hate. The same can be said about a few of the negative reactions I received from my original rant. 

I'm pretty sure none of this makes sense.

S

  

the thoughts of a young photographer...

Recently I have been engaged in an on-going argument between myself and photography - more specifically, the photography that I am creating. The argument started after I had a discussion with one of my course mates about how they were considering leaving the Press & Editorial  Photography course. When I asked my good friend why she was considering changing courses, her answer was because she felt as though she was spending too much time (and money) photographing things that she simply did not care about and that would ultimately end up counting for nothing; after all, we are not being paid to be at university, and nine times out of ten the work we are completing in this first year will spend the rest of its days glued in to a bloody work book. What we are doing, though, is spending hideous amounts of money on consumables such as paper and film and driving ourselves in to massive debt which we probably won't pay back for another twenty years or so.

Of course, by signing up for university we are putting ourselves in to immediate contact with connections within the photographic industry - two of my three main tutors are industry professionals (Guy Martin/David White), the other being retired from industry work but still has connections in all the right places. In the second and third years we will be given the opportunity to take work placements at such major agencies as Rex and Noor, which will no doubt put us in the right direction to working professionally. But this idea of 'connections' is something that - for some reason that I can't put my finger on - really bugs me about photography. It is something that is evidently important, of course, without knowing the right people, or without them knowing you, how are you going to get jobs? Or get your work printed and shown in the right places?

Connections are fine in that sense - crucial, even. What I cannot stand about the photographic world is the brown-nosing, the ass-kissing, the cock-sucking - however you want to say it. I spent last week in London with my course and a handful of second years, visiting galleries, independent printers, agencies and labs as part of a field trip. Before entering each establishment we were encouraged on nearly every occasion to "be nice" to the people who ran the exhibit, gallery or agency, because they may just remember you for it. Well, apart from making me feel about three years' old, it made me want to hit the next fashionable art curator I saw. Why the fuck should I "be nice" to anyone? If I wanted to get my work printed by a lab or a digital printers, then I would ask them, and they would subsequently take my hard-earned money because, and correct me if I am wrong, but I am pretty sure it would be considered bad business if a company declined a client on the basis of not being their friend. This theme was carried throughout the week; I witnessed, for example, a second year explain to the organiser of Labyrinth Photographic Printing how "he would like to keep in contact" and subsequently handed the man his card... I felt as though I had been transported in to Brett Easton-Ellis' American Psycho, where the metaphorical size of a man's penis is judged by the quality of his card. And that is, really, what photography boils down to - if you have money, then it would appear you can do whatever the fuck you like.

Unfortunately, I don't have a lot of money, and neither does my friend who sparked this argument. So where does that leave us? Quite frankly I don't know. All I do know is that I will continue doing this course until something happens - by 'something' I am talking along the lines of an internship or similar. Of course, it would be all too easy for me to complain about the ass-kissers if I were not trying in some way to gain connections through methods that do not involve blowing the wind up the ass of a curator. I am proactive about what I do, I am currently under-going a project with the homeless people of  Newquay (and before you sigh and dismiss it as something everyone has seen before, that is something I am well aware of and intend to stay well clear of it). Off my own back I have gotten in contact with numerous organisations who are doing everything humanly possible to help these people, ranging from soup kitchens and food banks to the Turnaround Project, an organisation which accommodates 16-25-year-old people with no home. I am receiving help from an ex-social worker to get contacts within the world of the homeless and we have already begun liaising with a gallery in regards to exhibiting the work once it is finished. It is here, however, where I stumble across the second half of my dilemma: exhibiting.

Nia Haf, a second year on the Press & Editorial Photography course, recently wrote on her blog  how exhibiting work of "death and destruction" can appear to be  rather counter-productive. In her argument she used the example of Guy Martin's Shifting Sands exhibition that was recently shown in Falmouth. The body of work was from Guy's tour of Libya and Egypt in 2011 covering the Arab Spring (see: http://www.panos.co.uk/bin/panos2.dll/go?a=disp&_m=1&_s=1&_ml=Stories&_sl=&_tlid=2&t=gl-loader.html&groupid=13&galleryid=1318&glbid=1824&page=1&si=F89DB5CFCC4A4B4CB0FCCF3818061F&rnd=0.0, (apologies for the ridiculously long link)).

I was present at the private viewing, as was everyone else on the Press & Editorial Photography course, and I have to admit that I got very much the same feeling as Nia did. We stood there with our "expensive beer... in one hand and ridiculously tiny salmon canapé in the other" saying "I really love that frame". We viewed the images, partook in some philosophical conversations and went home after a nice, civilised evening of looking at dead or dying  people in a country so far removed from the UK. As Nia put it on her blog - "Isn't there something a little fucked up about that?".

Yes. I think there is something a little fucked up about that, which is why the last thing I want to do is be a 'conflict photographer'. It is, on a smaller but no less relevant scale, how I am now feeling about my project with the homeless of Newquay. No matter how much I get to know these people, however much I befriend them, there will always be a divide between them and I, between these incredible young people who have had no parental figures in their lives (in the case of the Turnaround Project) and myself, the hideously middle class man from a quaint village in East Anglia who also happens to have a camera in his hand. And then there is the case of exhibiting the work, ergo gaining exposure as a photographer and taking another step toward the hipocrisy that I am ultimately bitching about in this post. But I want to gain exposure, right? Isn't that what we as photographers do? Otherwise there would surely be no industry. I keep telling myself that I am doing the project to (and I hate using this phrase) 'raise awareness' of the situation, to hope that people might be interested in these incredible stories. I truly am interested in these people and their lives, but sometimes I feel simply 'being interested' doesn't quite cut it.

Thus, I have come full circle. I am proactive - but not an ass-kisser - I love photography (it is what I want to do) but in doing a project such as mine I appear to be fulfilling one of my ultimate hates about photography: hipocrisy. I want to empathise with these people and produce a compelling body of work, but at the same time - without beating around the proverbial bush - I do want to gain exposure as a photographer through exhibiting the work, which, more or less, would mean I am gaining from other's misfortunes. Tricky, huh? I guess it really comes down to how I wish to portray these people, and how I do eventually want to exhibit it, but it is constantly at the back of my mind (I then tell myself that there is nothing that can be done about the fact that they are homeless and I am not, and to simply get on with it).

I am fearful of falling in to the pit which so many photojournalists these days have fallen in to and to photograph something that might be considered 'sad', and it seems all too easy to do it. I guess in future I will just have to choose to cover something more light-hearted...

S


  

magazine spread mock-up, MKII...

The revised version of my mock magazine spread, words and all (although I'm not sure if I am 100% happy with them just yet, but the layout is about right). Enjoy!

S

magazine spread mock-up, MKI...

Easter is drawing ever-closer, and work is piling ever-higher. But all is good, because, for the first time since starting university, I think I am actually on top of it all. This is mainly because I have got in to the habit of paying frequent nocturnal visits to the campus library - as I am now, at 22:30pm - which gives me room to breathe away from the cramped, noisy, humid, tacky, Ikea-furnished confines of student accommodation. 

Anyway. A new module which I have been working on over the past few days is Narrative, and is all about how image and text come together in a holy matrimony of typography to tell a compelling story. The majority of this module is based around viewing and reviewing book, magazine and journal layouts, both historical and contemporary: what looks brilliant? What looks bloody awful? And believe me, there is far too much of the latter. A good place to start with this is Issuu, an online community which allows anyone around the world to upload magazine-style spreads. It is a wonderful tool for self-publishing and is full of inspiration for all thing typographic - I suggest checking it out if this subject is your proverbial cup of tea - see: http://issuu.com/  

The key aspect of this module, then, is to create our own 'mock-up' magazine spreads using images from any one of our projects so far. I will be using images from my recent shoot with the homeless in Newquay, titled Shelter. The first draft of this can be seen below. I am quite happy with the results thus far; however, there is still a lot of room for improvement: I'm not sure if I like the placement of the images on the 3rd page; I am not entirely happy with the title font; one of my negs needs cleaning... You get the idea. And before you read the text and think, "hold on a second, this isn't English", well that's because it isn't. It's what we call in the industry - I think I am allowed to say that by now - 'placeholder text', which is basically a business-ey term for "I haven't thought of anything to say yet". Enjoy.

S

Mock-up magazine spread:

Pg. I

 



Pg. II



Pg. III

update...

So things have slowed down a bit since the influx of comments and page views I received after posting my work from the Newquay shoot. I would like anyone who is interested to know that I am still continuing the project, however it is going to be a longer process then I previously imagined. And for those of you who care, that post has received over 300 hits and has got a couple of comments from civilians of Newquay, not to mention the fact that Denise - the ex-social worker - got in contact with me via this blog to help me with the project.  

I have visited the homless guys in Newquay three times now, each visit being averagely six hours in length; however, during this roughly eighteen hours of contact time I have only shot one roll of film. It is going to be more difficult than I anticipated to fully gain their trust, and I have not yet reached the point where I feel completely comfortable pressing the shutter. Sometimes I get frustrated, and think "why am I really here", but then I remind myself that this is quite different to anything I have done before and that these people have every right not to be comfortable with me yet. It's funny, really, each time I leave I feel a pang of disappointment because I didn't shoot anything, but then I think of how far I have come already in terms of trust - I have already gained the nickname 'Paparazzi', and word of my presence has apparently spread - and I am filled with a new sense of determination to keep on returning and fulfilling what I have set out to do. It's almost addictive, in a strange way -  I always look forward to my next visit, knowing that I probably won't be able to comfortably photograph again, but I will be one step closer to doing so.

Next weekend should hopefully see a breakthrough; I will (hopefully) be spending the day with 'Chris the Fish', a rough sleeper who works on a charter fishing boat. He does not get paid for the work, but - in his words - "it keeps me off the street and out of trouble". It is a great example of how willing some of these people can be, and I really hope that I can get permission from the skipper of the vessel to allow me to come on board. 

I have come to realise, also, that the only way for me to be completely accepted in to this community - and to really experience what it is like to be homeless - then I need to rough sleep with them. I have had this thought in the back of my mind since I started this project, and it is only now that I fully realise it is exactly what I need to do. If I am to tell their story it can't be from me just turning up on the train every Wednesday and Saturday and then going home again in the evening - that would be hypocritical of me to say the least. I need to immerse myself in their lives, to feel what it is like to sleep in a shelter or a squat or an abandoned caravan or a tent on the headland. Only then will I be able to photograph their story. [pause for effect. end of dramatic speech]

S

burger king breakfasts and horizontal rain...

Today I travelled to Newquay to meet with Denise Harrison in order to discuss plans for my on-going documentation of the homeless in the resort town. Denise is an ex - but by no means abdicated - drugs/alcohol support worker. She is currently working as a waitress, but plans to be returning to the care industry very soon - by any means necessary!

As I mentioned in my previous post, Denise came across my blog - and subsequently my article about the homeless - after a friend of hers came across my site. She immediately emailed me, asking if I would work along-side her to raise awareness about these troubled people of who she cares very dearly. Denise's dedication to these people is quite astounding, equal only to the infamous reverend Chris McQuellin-Wright of St. Clumb Minor church. In fact, Denise and Chris are close friends, and have been working together for a long time in an attempt to help those who do not have a roof over their head. It is at this point, however, that I regret to say that Chris' night shelter scheme for the homeless at his church has been closed down due to the bombardment of abuse, trouble and stress that he received after selflessly helping these people. All the more reason for this to go ahead, me and Denise cogitated.

I was to meet Denise at St. Columb Minor Church at 10:30am to kick things off. After digressing immediately after arriving in Newquay for a Burger King breakfast (x1 bacon, egg and cheese muffin, x1 coffe) I arrived at said church for a twenty-to-eleven. We got talking right away about our plans. The first thing I wanted to make clear was that this was going to be a long process; it would most likely be weeks before I gained the full trust of these people in order to create a portfolio of work that was strong enough and intimate enough. The second thing I made clear was that I would need Denise's help only in gaining preliminary access to the homeless, via the extensive contacts she has in the soup kitchens and charity distributions across Newquay. After that, I would hope to reach the point where I could simply turn up to a soup kitchen, or even just a street corner, and begin photographing straight away, alone, without the people wondering who I am. It is only when I reach this level of trust that I will be able to get the most intimate work.

Then Denise hit me with a bombshell - or rather, two bombshells. Firstly She has already been in contact with a gallery in the town centre who are more than willing to exhibit my work once it is complete. I spoke to the owner of the gallery later on that afternoon, and this was indeed the case. Secondly: Denise has gotten in contact with the managers of the likes of Ed Sheeran and Newton Faulkner to organise pop-up gigs in the St. Columb Minor church to help raise funds for the homeless-helping organisations - events at which I would also exhibit my work. She was so enthusiastic, in fact, that she even went as far as to email my work to the guys themselves. How that will go down remains to be seen. If we could pull it off, it would be amazing, but don't quote me on this.

Needless to say, after Denise dropped the latter bombshell, I was nearly rendered speechless. I'm not quite sure how this has all happened, but I liked it. 

After we finished conjuring up all sorts of whimsical ideas, Denise decided that she would show me a few spots where I would most likely be spending a lot of time over the next few months. We made our way in to the town centre to see if we could find any of the regulars hanging out at the L shape on the barrow fields, just outside of Newquay town centre. On the way, Denise gave me a swift low-down of how she ended up out of the care business - predominantly through the recent 40% spending cuts in the public sector.

It was at this point in time the Cornish weather system decided that it was bored with regular climes, and instead it decided to rain horizontally and painfully; this is an occurrence that I am by now more than accustomed to.

We did in fact find what we were looking for at the L shape: three or so rough sleepers sitting and socialising. One of them was Lee Parkinson, whom I photographed the week before. This made the introductions a lot swifter and easier, and before long me and Denise were chatting to them and explaining to them what we were planning to do over the coming months. Of course, we were met by scepticism and accusations of ulterior motives at first - and rightly so, people in their position have every right not to trust everyone who comes their way. However, after I explained to the others how I photographed Lee the other day - and the dropping of the name 'Chris the Vic' - we were well on our way to getting a positive response. This encounter made me realise just how difficult it may be to gain the rough sleepers' complete trust, however, and as we left the group behind I was hit with a sense of tangible realisation, and not to mention awareness of the fact that this is the first time I will be dealing with a real-life subject off my own back. This was an especially poignant feeling after the initial jubilation of the morning's excitement.

The rest of the day was spent battling with the Cornish maelstrom, going to Subway and meeting up with the owner of the gallery which Denise spoke of earlier that morning. Appropriately titled The Gallery, the humble space, which is situated in Central Square at the heart of Newquay, is run by Ruth Arron. I showed her my recent work with the rough sleepers, and she was delighted to discuss my exhibiting there. Once again, I made it clear that it would most likely be several months before I come even close to having an exhibit-able body of work. She understood, and told me to keep in touch.

My next visit to Newquay - and most likely the official start of my project - will be on Wednesday next week, where Denise plans to introduce me to the good people who run the charitable soup kitchens at St. Michael's church.

I've written too much.

S

the homeless of newquay + Lee Jeffries - portraits of the homeless

I have received nearly 200 hits since I posted my photographs from my day spent with the homeless of Newquay, and an overwhelmingly positve response - by my standards at least - from those who viewed it. I have also received quite a bit of attention from those outside my circle of friendship and tutors here at the university. This morning I received an email from a woman who works as a drugs and alcohol officer with homeless people in the Newquay area. She explained to me how a friend emailed the blog post to her from the proverbial grape vine that is Facebook, seeing as she "lives and breathes homelessness". In the email she said that she is interested in working along-side me as I produce an on-going study of these people, which could culminate in exhibiting in the town and media coverage due to the fact she, quote: "knows people". The name BBC Spotlight was even mentioned, which got me fantasizing about all sorts of scenarios at half nine this morning, most of which ended in me becoming a rich and famous photographer... We'll see.

In all seriousness, she sounds like a very dedicated and passionate person. Combined with my passion for photography I believe we could produce something quite special. We will be meeting in Newquay this Saturday discuss her "plan". 

That aside, I am now beginning to think more deeply about how I want to go about creating my documentation of the homeless in Newquay, and where better to start then some good, old fashioned artist research. Below is some examples of work by amateur photographer Lee Jeffries, who has recently been creating a body of work based entirely around portraits of the homeless. So far he has visited London, Manchester, Rome, New York and, with his most recent work, Los Angeles and Miami.

Interestingly, Jeffries is not a professional photographer; by day he is an accountant in Manchester. When first viewing these images I thought that they had been shot on a medium format camera, as the image format would suggest; however, upon viewing his Flickr account, it turned out that they were all shot using a Canon 5D (respect). This means that Jeffries must have cropped his images to appear as though they had been shot medium format - something which I am not a fan of. In fact, I would say that Jeffries' only downfall would be that sometimes his images appear to be almost a little too over-produced, detracting from their raw environment slightly. Nonetheless, this does not belittle the fact that Jeffries has produced some stunningly detailed portraits which capture faces with great character and honesty. More of Jeffries' work can be seen on his Flickr account, here:  http://www.flickr.com/photos/16536699@N07/

I especially like the profile portraits.

This has definitely inspired me on the portrait front; Jeffries explained how he always made sure he gave the subjects money as thanks. He also stated - in an interview with The Mail Online - that his main approach was to befriend the people. Unfortunately I think that these portraits alone do not give a sense of assimilation with these people, which is why my plan of action will be slow but sure integration with the homeless of Newquay to capture images which people do not see every day. Of course, part of this process will involve me making portraits of the homeless, but that is all part of the journalistic process of image-making and story-telling. What I want to achieve is a depth of reportage similar to the likes of Larry Towell's The Mennonites, http://www.magnumphotos.com/c.aspx?VP=XSpecific_MAG.BookDetail_VPage&pid=2K7O3R15Q0CW ; Jim Goldberg's Raised by Wolves, http://www.magnumphotos.com/c.aspx?VP=XSpecific_MAG.StoryDetail_VPage&pid=2K7O3R1PAGWR; Eugene Smith's Country Doctor, http://life.time.com/photographers/life-classic-eugene-smiths-country-doctor/#1 and, more recently, Jessica Dimmock's The Ninth Floor, http://www.jessicadimmockphotography.com/projects/the-ninth-floor/.

S

the homeless of newquay...

It's becoming quite alarming how fast time has gone since I returned to Falmouth after the Christmas break. Just over a month has passed, and two weeks of my three-week project on relationships have been and gone. Even more worrying is that so far I have only shot one of the three required subjects for this assignment. Having said that, this one shoot turned out to be proverbial dynamite...

The day after I was given the brief I got in contact with a local vicar who has been sheltering the homeless in St. Columb Minor church near Newquay. On Sunday 6th February I spent the day with two of the rough sleepers who had been seeking shelter at the church for the past week or so: David Jones and Lee Parkinson . David and Lee showed me where they eat, sleep, drink and socialise. It's safe to say that the 8 hours I spent with them was probably one of the most interesting, insightful and eye-opening 8 hours I have had since beginning the Press & Editorial Photography course back in September of last year.

But let's start from the beginning. I originally got wind of the story through This is Cornwall, who posted the following article on their website: http://www.thisiscornwall.co.uk/Church-shelter-homeless/story-14133437-detail/story.html

The article tells of Reverend Chris McQuellin-Wright, a forty-year-old resident of St. Columb Minor who began sheltering the homeless in his church back in 2002. At first he only had a smattering of rough sleepers seeking shelter, often only receiving two to three people each year. Now, as the economic climate worsens, Chris has seen twenty-three homeless people pass through his church doors since November 2011 alone.  

Now, one would take this as an encouraging sign for Chris, as news of his hospitality reaches farther and farther across Cornwall and the West Country; indeed, Chris welcomes the rough sleepers with open arms - being the vice chairman of the homeless charity St. Petroc's Society, Chris' dedication to these people goes beyond simply being a good Christian. In reality, though, the increased traffic of rough sleepers through the village of St. Columb Minor has given Chris a lot more grief than expected. This is not because of the homeless causing trouble in the village. No. It is in fact the villagers themselves who have been causing the trouble, complaining that the "scum" will ruin their village, which "is a very close and tight-knit community". Yes, the villagers who have their comfortable, warm houses and wide-screen televisions have been complaining about Chris' incredible devotion to these, admittedly troubled, but nonetheless needy, people. One man even squared up to Chris recently, branding him as "the most hated man in Newquay" for what he has been doing. This and more can be read in an article here, also on This is Cornwall: http://www.thisiscornwall.co.uk/Vicar-hated-offer-roof-Newquay-homeless/story-14456288-detail/story.html

I was pretty confused upon reading this article. I am not a Christian man myself  - I do not support religious beliefs at all, in fact - but in my eyes, if a church should be doing anything, anything at all, then it is this. Needless to say, this gave the story an entirely new dimension, and I was spurred on to create the following documentation of the homeless of Nequay... 

Reverend Chris McQuellin-Wright

I arrived at St. Columb Minor church at around 8:45am - 45 minutes later than planned. This was due to the fact that, apparently, the entire West Country stops moving on weekends. Kindly, Chris had waited for my arrival, despite the fact he had a service to take at St. Colan church a few miles down the road at 9:00am. So, following an extremely brief introduction to the homeless who had slept at the church the previous night, we sped over to St. Colan in Chris' car.

It was at this time that it became obvious that Chris was no 'ordinary' vicar. He was, in fact, quite brilliant, and probably the only vicar I will ever meet who doesn't severely get on my wick. His sarcastic rhetoric and habit of swearing as we drove over to St. Colan caught me totally by surprise. Chris obviously noted my reaction, saying "You obviously didn't Google me before you arrived, did you?". "No" I replied dumbly.

Service was due to start at 09:00am. After literally running in to the church and throwing on his robe at the altar in front of bemused church-goers, Chris was ready to begin. He began, in fact, by announcing the reason for his lateness that morning: me. A sea of Christian faces turned my way as I sheepishly apologised and pointed towards my camera, as if this would in some way help the people understand. An interesting start, to say the least. Chris then continued to talk in this humorous and informal rhetoric to the church-goers for quite some time, who appeared to be accustomed to such behaviour. Service then continued in its usual, Godly manner as another preacher took over to talk about how Facebook was the anti-Christ. Probably. At this point in time Chris then literally took a pew at the back of the church and proceeded to almost fall asleep... Either that or he was praying really, really hard...

In Chris' defence, he told me on the drive over that he had recently been working twenty-hour days due to his  substantial roll in the community, not to mention looking after the homeless of Newquay. And in all seriousness, once the service began, I saw  the dedicated, and slightly batty, vicar transform before my eyes. What I saw was a humble, God-fearing man who loved every minute of what he was doing...

It was not until after returning to St. Columb Minor that I came in to any sort of prolonged contact with the homeless, who had stayed at the church to wait for Chris' 11:00am service. As soon as I began photographing them I knew that this was where my story would be focused. I soon befriended David, who has been without a home since 2008 after having a nervous breakdown following the repossession of his home and a career in the armed forces, resulting in a serious drinking problem; and Lee, a native to Bournemouth who has been homeless since the age of sixteen (portraits below). 

David Jones, 49

Lee Parkinson, 40

from left to right: David Jones, Roberto Darrick and Lee Parkinson saying the Lord's Prayer

David and Lee wait in line receive bread and wine at the altar

I felt that these scenes in the church alone represented how genuinely grateful and willing these people are to be part of a community who support each other. David and Lee admitted that they got a very positive feeling from being present at the services. Unfortunately, it would appear that this community, which prides itself on acts of good-will and respect, do not see the men in the same way. 

After the service Lee explained to me how he has heard the elder members of the community speaking in a derogatory manner about their presence within clear earshot of both Chris and the other homeless people.

David, Lee and the other rough sleepers are not permitted to stay at the church all day, not even by Chris. As they were leaving to make their way in to town I asked if I could could join them. They were happy, and with orders from Chris - or 'Chris the Vic', as he has become affectionately known by the homeless people of Newquay - to "look after me", I made my way in to Newquay town, about to be shown the day in the life of people who have no home to return to after service...

David and Lee look over the Newquay town beaches. In the distance The Atlantic Hotel sits on the headland.

David stops in the street to push a delivery van as its engine cut out in the middle of the road

It turned out that the man worked for Domino's Pizza, he offered Dave a free pizza in return for his help. "I believe in Karma" David said as we continued walking.

An abandoned house which, according to David, will soon become a new squat.

The L, a public toilet and shelter situated on the barrowfields on the outskirts of Newquay. David, Lee and other homeless people often hang out here to drink and socialise.

Even after spending such a short amount of time with David and Lee, I could tell that they were not 'bad' people. Of course, they had made mistakes in the past - but who hasn't? They were genuinely kind and very happy to help me with my project, respecting the fact that I was simply interested in their situation, and not exploiting them to create some sob story. I was also very surprised at their respect for the surroundings. David made a point of never leaving rubbish on the floor, of defacing property or of stealing. He spoke of how the people of Newquay have an extremely stereotypical opinion of the homeless in Newquay, and yet every summer the tourists and locals litter the streets with their beer bottles and remnants from beach barbecues, contradicting their zealous views. He was also genuinely happy to help people - and not just me - as seen in the frames where he helped the broken down van in the road. 

I got  a strong feeling that David was simply unfortunate. He was a dedicated worker before he was forced to live on the streets in 2008; he had previously been a drug and alcohol tutor at a prison, helping those that had problems with substance abuse. He then served a long time in the forces, working in a bomb disposal unit for the army. He also trained in the emergency services, working as a fire fighter for several years. Unfortunately, David soon found himself in trouble with alcohol himself. Blaming the heavy drinking culture in the armed forces as part of the problem, he told me of how "If you had a problem, you had a pint". His abuse of alcohol spiralled. His body became alcohol dependent to the point that he would suffer from 'alcoholic seizures' if he did not have alcohol in his system. Following a string events in 2008, including the disintegration of his relationship and the repossession of his home, David had a nervous breakdown. 

After three years of living on the streets, however, David has accepted his problems. He has limited himself to four cans of beer or cider a day, and is accepting help from Veterans' Aid, a charity which deals with ex-armed forces personnel who suffer from alcohol dependency and other mental or physical problems. 

David and Lee sit in a public shelter by the harbour where they often sleep at night. Sometimes the fishermen will give them freshly caught fish to cook at the church in St. Columb.

David stops by Boots to put on cologne. "No need to smell like a homeless person is there?" he said to me.

David asks a couple in the street for a cigarette.

David picks up a bottle of cider at  £2 for two litres from Bargain Booze to share with a friend who did not want to be photographed.

Lee sits on the steps to Mind, an organisation which helps those with addictions and mental illnesses. 

David picks up his free pizza from Domino's.

As we made our way around Newquay, David introduced me to one of his friends, Clive Bladen. David met Clive on his birthday after he gave him a joint on the beach. Now, they see each other almost daily. Clive was quite articulate, and told me of how he lived on the streets through choice after massive problems with his relationship. He did not appear upset or even worried about the fact he did not have a home. 

Clive Bladen

Clive chats with David and Lee on the steps of the Beach Nightclub in Newquay town centre.

The bench where Clive chooses to sleep, despite the offer of the church from Chris

As we were returning to the church in St. Columb, David and Lee stopped at The L to finish off the Domino's pizza which was given to them. As we approached we saw a very small and frail man sitting on the bench. As we sat down it became clear that this man obviously had severe mental difficulties. He struggled with talking and was shivering violently due to the harsh wind which was blowing across the headland, a problem which was not helped by the fact he was merely dressed in tracksuit bottoms, sandals and a T-shirt. What followed was probably the most humbling part of the entire day, as David and Lee attempted to feed and dress the man...

David offers a slice of hot pizza in vain, willing the man to eat. It appeared as though he was not even aware of what he was looking at.

David gave wrapped his coat around the still unidentified man. Although he could not talk, his appreciation was evident.

After a short while the man's carer showed up. They had become separated in town and had been looking for the man, who was apparently called Tony. David gave up his fleece for Tony to keep. Afterwards, he turned to face me and said "this is the real world".  

After spending the day with these people, and gaining but  a fraction of an experience of their way of life, I feel compelled ot continue documenting their lives. After speaking to Chris, it is agreed that I will be returning to St. Columb and Newquay very soon to create an on-going study of the homeless of Newquay. Perhaps I can change peoples' perception of these misunderstood and often compassionate people - perhaps I won't. But it is the first time I have truly felt the need to prove - or at least say - something with my photography. 

S