To be ‘nibbled’ from the top down. Huh?

Why don’t they just blow them up? Somebody changed their mind because they had actually warned the offices in Canary Wharf on the opposite bank of the Thames to expect the explosion – presumably so they didn’t fear the worst. Not the residents of course. Why tell us? It is actions like this that makes me actually wish for the worst. Or at least something to make the bankers opposite the refinery shit their corporate pants for once.

Instead, they are going to ‘nibble’ the concrete from the top down with the result that this section of the path will be closed for three months. Three fucking long months as Summer is arriving. Once again, another right of way on the Peninsular eroded for corporate interests. I’ve met some very angry people on the path over the last few days. First Lovells Wharf. Now this. There is no signposting or any indication that the path will be closed, or pointers to an alternative way round the obstruction.

There is some banding in these photos, but since they are ‘for the record’ I’ve had to bite the bullet. I stand-developed (stood?) with Rodinal 1+100 but I don’t think I agitated the tank with enough ferocity initially. Too gentle, resulting in uneven development on some frames. Shame, (a) ‘cos the skies are moderately dramatic and this is where it shows the most and (b) with the expanse of a 6×9 neg it is fairly obvious even without a loupe.

I’m always fascinated by views of The Dome O2 from here and this frames it well

The destruction of the rest of the area continues apace

While teetering on a pile of teetering things in order to see over the fence I saw an M Leica go past behind me. I cried from my perch is that a Leica? – expecting some engagement since I was waving the Fuji GS690III (aka The Texas Leica) all over the place trying to balance. I’m beginning to think it might be me, because the guy looked like he couldn’t walk past fast enough. WTF? Well perhaps if you walk around with a camera bag that looks like it cost more than my camera you might well be apprehensive… Solution? Get something shabbier like my aged and battered Domke bag and don’t be so paranoid.

I was expecting more. There are few enough film photographers around for it to be a novelty meeting one. Tosser.

And talking of tossers, the Nikon D70 guy the Dog and I met last week also cut me dead AGAIN. He has slightly more excuse because of The Dog’s initial attraction to him (DV passim in true Private Eye fashion). Smile and say hello next time dude, your life may be slightly happier as a result.

A few more pointing up and looking through.

So, goodbye silos. They’ll be long gone by the time I get a view camera. Rats. And it is the nearest I’ll get to the Bechers for a while.

I went back there the following day (Monday) hoping that the lack of notices meant that the work was delayed. I didn’t get very far up the path because The Dog found his favourite tyre and continued his favourite project of ripping it slowly and lovingly to shreds. I was there long enough to see a stream of cyclists and joggers go past me and return very shortly and very pissed off. So I’m guessing they couldn’t get through. One sweaty jogger was particularly incensed and didn’t know the alternative route to regain the path (dog-leg via Mauritius Road, Blackwall Lane & Tunnel Ave for those who need to know).

Amusingly we couldn’t even leave the path at one point. At the breakers a 30m high cast-iron cylinder was being swung out over the path by the crane and one of the guys stopped us getting past. Sure, it would have killed us instantly if it had come free and fallen, it must have weighed 10000s of kgs. The crane driver was aware of this and shortly we heard him screaming from the cab to his mate GET THOSE FUCKING PEOPLE AND THAT FUCKING DOG OFF THE FUCKING PATH YOU STUPID FUCKING CUNT – nice one! We left…

The CCTV is alive and well though. How reassuring.

Oxleas Wood is one of the few remaining areas of ancient deciduous forest in London dating back over 8,000 years. So never mind the Styrofoam, feel the age.

Bagpuss

To me this log looks like a cat, specifically Bagpuss (RIP). Log cat lol cat. Whiskers, one eye and ears. What more does a fevered imagination need?

It is a curious place and a dog walkers’ heaven despite the giant cat. Some of it really does feel 8000 years old. Despite being audibly sandwiched between major trunk roads (and thus with the obvious temptation for car-centric governments to make the drive to work and productivity quicker via a shortcut), and, despite the uneasy manicure of the ‘walks’, at this time of year the twisted leafless ancient trees makes it feel somewhere further away than it really is. To me anyway.

Get off the paths and there are some treats. Just behind the cafe we found this bench.

The Fuji is a bit big for the diminutive tripod I was carrying and this needed 1/2 second at f/8 (or f/11, can’t remember) and there is the tiniest bit of unsharpness here, though the discarded can of Guinness beneath the bench belies that slightly. Was somebody really sitting here drinking Guinness? Whatever, a top ten bench for the Knossers of Benches.

And of course there is always the d-i-c-h-o-t-o-m-y (love the word) between managed and unmanaged woodlands:

If you are the kind of council/land owner to erect a tasteful concrete-slab fence in 8000 year old woodland then I think you could have possibly foreseen that it might look a bit shit in context. Especially if you don’t maintain it.

This shot should have been in colour

White translucent carrier bags half filled with a deep turquoise/renaissance-ultramarine coloured liquid. I think. It was really hard to tell. Hopefully they’ll be there next time so I can do justice to them. The colour was so rich and seriously out of context.

The Dog was in heaven, except for one shitty boxer and his owner in funky gurly wellies. I didn’t like them and neither did The Dog and nor did the people at the cafe who were jumped upon (by the boxer).

A friend recently discovered Sevendroog Castle when wandering round Jack Wood after a few spliffs. He couldn’t believe his eyes. It is such an extraordinary and unexpected folly because it is not really visible until you stumble upon it. At least not from the directions that we have approached it.

It is at the top of a scarp slope and surrounded by trees. This time of year is probably best because there are no leaves to obscure the view.

The branches frame the folly well.

I find its solitude the most troubling thing, it is so out of context. The second most puzzling thing is that from some angles it looks two dimensional. Almost ready to topple over.

I can understand my friend’s confusion. Especially with the dereliction, graffiti and 21C barricades on the windows and doors.

The Dog Gizmo thinks anybody with a hoodie is The Lobster. Despite the Mohican. Nanoseconds later he went racing up the steps to say hello.

Shave my beard and call me normal… A sunny day! I don’t have a beard and am probably not normal anyway – cue Bud (Harry Dean Stanton) in Repo man Look at ‘em, ordinary fucking people, I hate ‘em.

Hunkered down here under the wharf lapping up the reflections as the tide raced in. I made the mistake of standing up and clocked myself with the zillion tons of concrete slabbed above me. Saw stars, staggered, and fell to earth screaming c*nts like the drama queen I am. It fucking hurt! But you must soldier on – I would have drowned if I’d stayed. That is two strikes on my anatomy now to this part of the peninsular but at least I didn’t fall onto the rocks this time, just got a bit slimed in the mud.

This wasn’t quite what I whacked my head on but it is close and amazingly the structure is still intact, so I thought I’d snap it again before it is dynamited. Any moment now.

The two little black marks top rightish are not crud from my processing as I first thought. A 100% crop reveals a plane and a bird. Since the plane is probably flying at 10kms altitude I was quite impressed that the Fujinon lens picked it up.

Luvvin’ the grain at 100%. Tis what it is all about in my less than humble opinion.

I was generally less than pleased with today’s photos. I should have used a slower film in this light, FP4+ perhaps at ISO 100 or 80. The results would have been richer.The HP5+ is pulled to ISO 200 but before I left the flat I couldn’t believe it really was as bright as it was.

I’m trying to get the definitive shot of this lump of barbed wire. I’ve poked around it with the digi trying to get it right but I think I need to keep trying.

I’m getting it to look more ‘human’ tho…

Finally some steps, because… because I can.

Possibly the most slippery steps on the Thames. They are lethal and for some reason surrounded by discarded condoms. It is definitely worth staying upright here.

Lay your sleeping head, my love,
Human on my faithless arm;
Time and fevers burn away
Individual beauty from
Thoughtful children, and the grave
Proves the child ephemeral:
But in my arms till break of day
Let the living creature lie,
Mortal, guilty, but to me
The entirely beautiful.

Lay Your Sleeping Head, My Love by W. H. Auden (first verse)

Or just be careful Eugene…

More I hear you cry! Haven’t you done this to death? Well, only this week three of the Tunnel Refineries’ silos were blown-up and rumour has it the rest are going shortly during the low tides. Maybe even today. So some of these photos are for the record. The landscape is changing so fast and the landmarks are disappearing. Not quite a lights going out over Europe moment, but a significant time for The Peninsular. Probably not significant photographs (of the explosions) because the nearest vantage point will be the Isle of Dogs and I can’t be arsed to zoom from that distance.

We met another photographer who sadly didn’t engage. The Lobster reckoned The Dog put the kibosh on that by running over to him and jumping up when he was trying to snap the demolition site. I tried to explain what a tart Gizmo is with cameras, but it didn’t wash. The guy obviously photographs the peninsular in the same way that I do (judging from the brief exchange we did manage) so if you are reading this post, Gizmo says he is sorry. Yes, you over there with the Nikon D70.

Still wanting 6×9 goodness I took along the Fuji GW690III with the fixed f/3.5 90mm EBC Fujinon. This camera is aka The Texas Leica because it looks just like a supersized Leica rangefinder. And supersized is no exaggeration, I just laughed out loud when I first saw one. It has a sharp fixed f/3.5 90mm EBC Fujinon lens and I don’t find the lack of interchangeability a hardship at all. Since the day was overcast and teetering on the rainy side, f/11 was as stopped down as I could get away with handheld (1/60 sec). Can’t wait for weather that allows f/22 or f/32, or maybe I’ll just lug the tripod next time.

The GW690III is so simple to use too. No batteries, all mechanical. It has a slightly bizarre aperture and shutter speed location (at the end of the lens barrel) but easy to get used to. Plus a bright rangefinder patch and parallax compensated frame lines in the viewfinder.

Since we are around full moon time again, the tides are more extreme. This morning it was right in. It is hard to explain to a puzzled dog where his beach has gone, but hey, he’ll get over it.

Weird perspective here, due to the bend in the river it looks like the gasholder is reversed (see a couple of photos up).

Kate reckons this looks like a prop from the Jonestown Massacre. A revolutionary suicide Kool-Aid drum. It certainly looks corrosive enough.

And while on the subject of corrosive, we came across the most repellent abandoned chair yet:

Seriously, you wouldn’t want to sit on it. It is next to articulated lorry trailers packed with mattresses. I pity the poor fuckers who are skippering there and out of respect I didn’t photograph them.

Look carefully…

A red filter might have helped here with legibility. I’d like to say I don’t make a habit of photographing brick walls but that just wouldn’t be true. These days I’m a (little) more discerning though, there is usually a reason. Like the gateway to the fourth dimension.

I’ve been itching to get into the Thames Water plant in Beck Close (because it looks like a science fiction set), so I thought I’d do the right thing and ask permission to take photos (gasp!). The gates must have had at least 10 padlocks and 3 entry phones plus a tantalizing notice telling all visitors to report to the reception, which, naturally, was the other side of the padlocks. I got zero response pressing each button on the entry phone several times though I could see people looking out of the windows. Is there a secret, a shibboleth (and just how hard is that to spell!!!) I don’t know? Possibly coincidentally, Coldbath Street round the corner was sealed off by the police because of ‘a serious assault’* so perhaps they were worried they’d be next. With that kind of response they should be.

This pissed me off royally since the light was just right. Somehow there was a gap in a week of shite weather and we had a beautiful sunny day. The pipes were gleaming silver and looking hazily spectral and I had a loaded Rolleiflex. Crap.

So, it was down to the beach with Gizmo and I cheered myself up at the breakers yard.

I scanned these last night and I have to admit to a little frisson when I looked at these two shots of a discarded walkway.

There appears to be a phantom figure walking towards me. At 02:00 yesterday morning I was thinking about ghosts and the Marchioness disaster because this is the final resting place of the Marchioness. It came here to be broken up. So I jumped a bit when I saw this photo, though obviously it is a trick of the light. Cue the music….

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Turning the camera 180 degrees, the refinery is agreeably framed by a doorway going absolutely nowhere. This time there is a real life figure in front of me, Chief Tart Gizmo, if you look carefully, excavating ‘his’ tyre from the mud.

The sun cast beautiful rippling reflections on the side of one of the hulks

Photos don’t really do this justice. I could have stared for hours as the shadows and lights rippling across the rusty hulls.

There is always something to photograph here. I’m becoming increasingly interested in the abstractions caused by the light and shade, especially on a contrasty day like this.

Because of the likely contrast, I thought I’d break with my usual HP5+ dev (HC-110 1+68) and stand develop in Rodinal 1+100 for an hour. I’m always slightly worried about using Rodinal with HP5+ because of the potential wormy grain but I’m happy with these. Happy enough to do it again methinks, particularly since it is such a lazy way to develop. I minute of agitation followed by 59 minutes of… absolutely nothing. No agitation every 30 secs tyranny. Nice. No streaks or drag either. Maybe I was lucky this time.

* The ‘serious assault’ had taken place the night before according to the local plod standing guard. Coldbath St was sealed off while they were awaiting the crime scene investigators. This was 11.00 in the morning, so that is a reassuring response time, not.

I went back and re-photographed what had been so cruelly destroyed by light the day before. Is that sad? But I’m so glad I did.

The eponymous box of delights is in fact a suitcase and I wanted to snap it before it got kicked around even more or even disappeared.

Like I speculate on what my old cameras have may have seen/snapped in previous lives, there is something about an empty abandoned suitcase in a very unexpected place that makes me think what is the backstory? Well, briefly anyway. I did worry about the Q-Tips in there though…

The weather was pretty grimy and gray, it had been raining and it looked like it was about to rain again. This old tray caught my eye. I think it is a tray.

I was expecting the bokeh to be good with the Planar at f/5.6, and to my eye the sharpness and softness work really well. Better than I anticipated.

Likewise with this fence post jutting out of the concrete.

Nice post, looks like a cock says Kate. We’ve heard that one before somewhere.

Looks kind of medieval – middle-ages phallocentrism. Worrying

I keep going on about this but I wasn’t just worried that the suitcase would disappear. These too look like they are destined for destruction shortly.

It was a Sunday, but the demolition was going full steam so I’m assuming they will be gone soon.

I’m beginning to really love using this Rolleiflex 3.5F. Have I said that before? The results are very pleasing to me. Apart from the sheer joy of using the thing, there is an expectation that starts when you hang the negs up to dry. They look special. Though it is good for me that I have to wait for them to dry before scanning them. I need that imposed self-control. I always so want everything right now