Five years…

Today is a rather unusual anniversary for me. It’s five years ago today that I was stabbed in the chest in Mexico City. The fact that it was this anniversary only came to me a few days ago when I was checking the dates for Easter; I never remembered the date until now, only the fact that it was Easter Saturday, and my first day out photographing in a new city and a new country. It seems strange that it’s five years. I can’t decide if it seems like yesterday or like a long time ago. I think the answer is both.

Thinking about all of this made me want to write something. There are few days that pass when I don’t think about it in some way. In my head it is all as clear as yesterday. But the purpose of this post is not to dwell, but to celebrate. Life is fragile, it really can end abruptly, unexpectedly, and that applies to us all. Each day must be enjoyed and taken as something special, full of potential and possibility. Health and friends are so important, it’s a shame that we often overlook this or need to go to the end of the line in order to remind ourselves.

A good friend of me told me that the point of life is living. She’s not wrong. This is a picture I took on the morning of Easter Saturday. I am not sure what people are queueing for, but that’s not important, is it? It’s the queue that matters…

The End of the Line, Mexico City, 2008, by James Sebright.

In a time of innocence…

Here we are again! Happy New Year to one and all, friends, family and both of my readers. Let us hope 2013 brings us all we deserve and is filled with love, luck and Leicas.

Kicking off the new year and planning its activities has involved applying for a residency in the Eternal City of Rome (how exciting!), and part of this process has involved going back through old work. It’s always interesting to look back at old work, I find. So often I wonder how I was so bad, and also I wonder at the poor selections I made during the editing process.

But looking back was especially poignant today, as this body of work was shot in Syria before the civil war. My memories of Syria are some of the happiest of my life, and I recall some of the most noble and friendly people I have ever met. Never before have I felt so genuinely welcome in another country. As I follow the war on the news, I often find myself thinking about the people I met. I wonder what has become of them, where they are now. I wonder if they have been fighting or fleeing. I wonder if they are still alive.

Cheery thoughts perhaps not, but it also makes me think how lucky I am to live in a country where we enjoy tremendous personal freedoms. This image was taken of a barber who gave me a shave in his little shop in Damascus, where he had worked most of his life. His concentration was something to behold, and when he was finished, he patted my face and proudly declared, “Like a baby!”

I hope to edit a collection of these images for some form of exhibition. In the meantime, I wish you a happy new year my friend, wherever you may be…

Barber’s Shop, Damascus, Syria by James Sebright.

The Rolls Royce of dumper trucks…

“This is the Rolls Royce of dumper trucks!” my guide Fred told me on numerous occasions today, as he showed me round Caterpillar’s factory. My Made in England project brings me to Peterlee, and one of County Durham’s flagship manufacturers. Fred is clearly proud of the machines that are produced at this plant, and rightly so. Available in any colour, so long as it’s orange, they are mighty beasts and it’s not difficult to be impressed. And I thought they just made clothes…

The operation at Peterlee seems to encapsulate so much of what is happening in manufacture in Britain today. The factory here started life as a moderately successful family-owned British concern making trucks. This was bought by the American giant who were able to invest a great deal into the factory, both financially and in terms of knowledge. Foreign investment has meant growth and stability. And whilst the profits go to an American company, we gain a great deal in terms of taxes, jobs, skills and development, particularly in a region where so much heavy industry was ravaged in the 80s. At the end of the day, no one can deny these trucks are made in England.

As we toured the factory, Fred told me about the developments that have taken place over recent times. The factory is now a very clean and safe workplace, and throughout the business, virtually all waste is collected and sold for recycling, bringing in a steady income whilst reducing the footprint of the business; an apprentice scheme provides meaningful work to young people in the area, with the opportunity to go all the way to the top (the current MD started as an apprentice in the factory); the company engage with their community in lots of meaningful ways, for example sharing their training facilities with schools, the unemployed and ex-servicemen. The list goes on. As I walked around, I was struck by how happy people seemed, people engaged in their work and with one another. Here is a business fully engaged with the surrounding community, creating meaningful jobs for its workers.

Upon leaving the plant and driving back up the A19 past villages that were once vibrant pit villages, I wondered what our service economy has really done for us. How many call centres can boast the levels of employee satisfaction and community engagement offered here? How many participate within their locality, offering meangful jobs? Few, I imagine. I cannot help but feel that the ‘new economy’ has made so many of us into battery hens, wired into systems where even the time taken by employees wanting to pee is measured and recorded. I know what I would prefer.

To me, enormous factories are entirely human, because to make, build, create is fundamental to our being human. Here’s a picture of an enormous orange truck under construction…

“The Rolls Royce of dumper trucks” under construction, Caterpillar, Peterlee, by James Sebright.

Made in England – Hardy Fishing Tackle, Alnwick.

Following a couple of false starts due to extreme weather, yesterday found me continuing my investigations into manufacturing in England at Hardy Fishing Tackle in Alnwick, Northumberland. If you have driven up the A1 in search of Harry Potter’s Hogwarts, you may have noticed signs for the Hardy Museum. But the real magic in this town lies in a small factory behind this museum, where the world’s top rods and reels are meticulously crafted.

Like much manufacturing in this country, Hardy relies on the small scale production of high value items, exquisitely crafted by a small, skilled workforce, for a niche market that appreciates the finer things in life. And like Barbour in Jarrow, Hardy is an old company based on the pursuits typically enjoyed by the English gentry, which has found a new global market of aficionados.

As a lad, I was often found fishing in the murky waters of East Lancashire’s rivers; I remember that you could tell which colour the dye factory was working on that day, on account of the colour of the river. My basic rod and reel must have cost only a few shillings (!), and so I was amazed to see reels that retail at around £700 and rods that retail for thousands, including handmade split cane rods that can cost £4000.

The thing that struck me most during my visit was the attention to detail that goes into each of these products which are undeniably beautiful, and how few individuals are responsible for their production; for example, the company’s reels are made by perhaps 2 or 3 people. As an owner of a Leica M6, I was able to understand that some people value certain things like this, and I understood why these things cost what they do.

The staff at the factory were incredibly friendly and all keen to show me the part they played in this story. I must also thank Dave Douglas who gave me the freedom to explore the factory on my own. Here is a shot of the varnish that covers the eyelets being applied by hand…

Varnishing rods, Hardy Fishing, Alnwick, by James Sebright.

Let us play…

Today I have been playing. No, not rolling round in the sandpit or hanging out with my buddies at the softplay. Playing; experimenting, trying new things, mucking about without consequence, seeing what happens, indulging one’s ideas and fancies in the hope of arriving at something new and interesting. Playing.

It sometimes seems that being a creative professional is in fact a rather uncreative activity. Clients like what they know, and what they have seen you do in the past. “Make me look like that!” they implore. Equally, you yourself often find yourself doing what has worked in the past because you know it will bring the desired outcome in the short term. Formulas develop. In some senses, a personal style, a voice, a signature develops, but this can also become limiting.

This is where play comes in. Without playing, looking outside and wondering, personal styles become stagnant. As creatives, we lose sight of the whole point, the thing that started it in the first place.

Of course, for us to play sometimes requires the help of others. In this respect, I am very lucky to have a friend who understands the value of play too, someone who is willing to travel with me along this path in the knowledge that there will be a net gain in the long run, even if not in the immediate term. A fellow creator and erstwhile playmate.

I am not going to elucidate how I have been playing, but here is a picture of Beccy from a wonderful 2 hours spent at Tynemouth beach.

Let us play!

Beccy, by James Sebright.

It’s been a while…

It’s been a while. I have been away; not just from my laptop, but from my country. There’s so much to catch up on!

The last month has been something of a blur, involving a residency in Morocco, a host of interesting jobs and a trip to the Barbour Factory as part of my Made in England project. So having been so busy, it’s sometimes difficult to know where to start, like those awkward moments when you meet someone you haven’t seen for years, and they casually ask “So, what have you been up to?”

So let’s not rush things. I know that you are relieved that I am still alive and haven’t retired. Have a sit down and a cup of tea. Breathe deeply. Let’s take this slowly.

In the meantime, here’s an image from a collection of photographs that I am very soon to be showing in a small gallery space in my home city of Newcastle upon Tyne. The collection is entitled “All The Fun” and is about The Hoppings fair that visits Newcastle every year.

Expect more soon. Promise.

The Hoppings by James Sebright.

Slowly, slowly…

You may well wonder what has been happening at Sebright HQ the last few weeks, as I have had little to post about. Things have been a little quiet, and I promised myself that I wouldn’t write for the sake of it. Social media exerts a powerful influence over us all, especially in the creative industries, and often it seems that we blog, post and tweet for the sake of it. The phrase ‘The medium is the message’ never seems more true than now.

Anyone who reads this collection of ramblings regularly will know that one of my personal bug-bears is editing, especially following a significant trip abroad where memory cards have been filled with abandon. Yet, many would agree that editing is one of the most important aspects of photography, especially in an age when capturing images is so easy. The lord giveth, and the lord taketh away…

So, to get back on the horse, I have been revisiting my trip to Tokyo, which seems an age ago now. One benefit of letting time pass between shooting and editing is that it is much easier to make judgements about images; they are less precious and we can view them on their own merits without thoughts of what we hoped to capture clouding our judgement. So often images that we thought were great seem average, whilst others eventually show their true worth. Time allows us to become better arbitrators of quality.

Thus, I shall soon have a gallery of images to add to my website and put before interested parties. That’s not to say it won’t be without headaches and confusion, but if I can’t do it now, I will struggle at any point. Of course, many of the best photographers have been able to work with the best curators. I often envy William Eggleston arriving at the Museum of Modern Art in New York with a suitcase loaded with prints, being able to go through his work with John Swarkowski, one photography’s sharpest brains. The rest of us must be brave and make our own decisions.

In the meantime, I shall tease you – and myself – with a slice of Tokyo life taken on the subway…

Rush hour, Tokyo subway, by James Sebright.

Made in Sunderland…

Despite the demise of the British-owned car industry, Britain remains an important manufacturer of automobiles. This week, my Made in England project took me to Sunderland, Tyne and Wear, which is home to Nissan Motors UK. Here, the Qashqai and Juke models are produced in a state of the art facility on the outskirts of the city.

It’s difficult to describe how incredibly impressed I was with the facility at Sunderland, where every nook and cranny of this vast space has a purpose. It’s like a vast organism in which everything is in harmony. If any element were to go wrong, the whole would grind to halt, but it doesn’t. It is truly spellbinding to stand in its midst.

The factory was opened in 1986 by then Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher amid a period of industrial decline in the North East of England. Nissan successfully employed Japanese manufacturing techniques such as JIT (Just In Time) and Kaizen amongst a single union workforce. The factory now employs around 5,000 employees bringing wealth to the region, not only directly, but also through the chain of associated suppliers. Production of a fully electrically powered car will soon commence further putting the plant at the forefront of automotive manufacture.

Here, completed body shells make their way through the plant…

Body shells, Nissan Motors UK, Sunderland, by James Sebright.

Made in The Dales…

To most, the sweeping countryside and sleepy towns of the Yorkshire Dales are the perfect place to get away from the hustle and bustle of urban life. At weekends, the campsites are filled with pleasure-seekers, the hills full of walkers and the roads and town squares buzzing with bikers, all making the most of one of the country’s most beautiful and least populated spots. Yet beneath this tranquil and time-forgotten exterior lies another story, that of a surprisingly vigorous economy filled with highly skilled small makers and manufacturers making a whole variety of high quality goods. The hills are alive with the sound of quiet endeavour.

Last week, my Made in England project took me to a small business park on the outskirts of Leyburn, which sits on the threshold of the Yorkshire Dales National Park. Within the area of a football pitch, housed in modest industrial units, I discovered a world-class violin maker, a chocolate factory and a handmade teapot factory, thriving businesses one and all, all happy to let me explore their premises and discuss their businesses.

Here is a shot from Hansell’s Violin Workshops. Hidden in a brick and tin shack, a staff of 3 make the most exquisite instruments by hand, averaging one instrument a month. The air is filled with the smell of wood, linseed oil and the gentle sounds of Radio Three, and there is never a shortage of a good cup of tea. You could do a lot worse than spend your working days in this warm and friendly workshop. Here, Igor is working on a cello.

Hansell Violin Workshop, by James Sebright.

All the fun of the fair…

The last week in June in Newcastle brings with it the delights of the fair, as The Hoppings descends on the Town Moor for a week of screaming children, thumping house music and over-priced beef-burgers. It’s magic.

The fairground has long since been a staple subject for photographers, and this modern-day incarnation is no different. The romance has gone, but it still holds rich pickings for the quick of eye, and I am often to be found there, when not watching one of Andy Murray’s drawn out tea-time matches at Wimbledon.

The rain almost put a stop to it this year, but the council insisted that the show would go on, with the result that the ground is extremely muddy. If you have never been to Glastonbury, this is surely enough to put one off, but the Newcastle public are a hardy bunch who demand their pleasures. Still, the crowds are not as thick as last year, and many stall holders are to be found quietly waiting for bed time.

Having been a regular photographer here for a number of years, it’s sometimes difficult to bring a new approach and not take the same pictures over and over. This year I have been trying to capture some of the details of the event, with mixed results.

For more images of this year’s Hoppings, view my ever-growing set on Flickr

In the meantime here is a shot taken at the rifle shooting stalls…

Rifle Range, The Hoppings 2012 by James Sebright.