Benna Gaean Maris
The photographs have been intentionally taken with a broken digital compact camera showing a melting and bluish picture: the perfect tool to depict a decadent and dismal cityscapes. The title of the project – D-Rain could be a wordplay between drain and digital-rain, as the picture seemed to drip and flow down the drain. After some shooting sessions, the camera died completely, making the footage almost unique.
My photographs are taken at night, and often show restlessness, movement and flux. They are generally lit either by street lights, or moving artificial lights, under a long exposure time. They are not digitally altered. I welcome the role of chance, accidents, and imperfection. The defects in these two photographs come from rain drops on the lens which causes hexagonal light reflections to appear, and from the camera moving accidentally, which causes light and colour distortions.
I am interested in the sense of disorientation, strangeness, and sometimes pathos, created by the wind moving branches, or by lights moving as the photograph takes place. By highlighting certain branches, or plants, there is a sense of alienation, isolation, but also mystery or beauty. When editing my photographs I choose only those which affect me emotionally.
I’d planned a photoshoot with my friend and although she’s not a professional model
I’m still very precise about the images and how I style them. I found a backyard with an amazing white wall and only wanted to use white and different blues for the photoshoot.
Currently, I tend to use film cameras as I’m fond of their texture and especially how my old camera’s films turn out. This time though, I used one of my dad’s film rolls and he did mention that they were about 10 years old or even older but because I’m not that experienced within film I didn’t think anything of it.
After I developed the film I understood that films do expire. My whole plan for the shoot went down the drain because every image was purple, no white to be seen anywhere, that is why the shoot is called ‘Purple Series’.
I am an visual artist, writer and enthusiastic cell phone photographer. The cell phone camera does not always behave as expected. And I kept a number of pleasant failures.
From the top:
Here the camera decided tot take a picture by itself.
The camera took an unexpected break, so I moved my hand, then the picture was taken after all.
The bee or wasp in the picture stung me in my neck while I was making a picture. To my surprise, the insect was in the picture.
The playing dog being too fast for the camera.
Nerissa Cargill Thompson
I was taking photos at the dress rehearsal for a show I designed for disability led theatre company, Proud and Loud Arts. I am their associate designer and have taken many of the production photos as well. Must have pressed button by mistake while in motion. This is an accidental shot but actually one of our favourites and used in subsequent publicity. Couldn’t recreate it if I tried.
My photographic errors led to the creation of my Broken Camera Project series (2014-19):
The digital camera used for this project has a faulty light sensor which gives each image unique and unpredictable characteristic. The usual control a photographer would expect is taken away by uncertainties surrounding the image focus, colour, and exposure. The resulting photographs hold random serendipitous qualities dictated by the camera’s interpretation of the scene.
As a photographer you feel as if thought the technology allows you to step into an alternate reality; you compare the image and context. The series only presents the camera’s interpretation of the world to the viewer. You are thrown into its purple-tinged landscapes with no grasp on reality; you have no idea what is real and what is an error. The images are presented unedited as captured and interpreted by the camera. Over the last five years, the cameras sensory equipment has continued to degrade. Through the collection we observe the photographs drift further and further from reality and their blurring into the incomprehensible.
The artwork draws parallels between the death of man and technology; we observe an incremental disengagement with our reality that has similarities to a decline in mental ability and a loss of sensory capacity (e.g. dementia). Unusually, the project highlights the beauty of this process. At times, the camera almost seems to snaps almost back to reality, however, most images require the scene to be lit with extreme contrast to even be registered.
My work relates to the themes of perception and impairment. It aims to challenge viewers to engage with their everyday surroundings and landscapes through a different lens. I ask viewers to reconsider what they see and encourage them to imagine the world through the eyes of others. The project has captured hundreds of photos which will, when time allows, be curated for exhibition.
This image was taken in Sheffield as research for a project inspired by the architecture there. The roll of film accidentally went through the wash before it was developed, so all of the colours aren’t accurate and there are marks on the picture.
I like to experiment and take a few risks, where the outcome is not certain. All these images were made unintentionally. The top two occurred due to using the wrong camera settings for the situation. In the lower image I used the settings the camera was already on, pointed down into the weedy water and this was the result.
Paul Michael Browne
This picture was taken at my local pub in the area I grew up, just before it closed down. The pub had a negative reputation and was one my group of friends and I avoided, heading instead to the more culturally diverse, open-minded and hedonistic Birmingham city centre.
The pub had long been in decline, had sold off its bowling green out back to make way for flats and was under threat of gentrification for many years but somehow survived with temporary landlords and zero investment. It was during this time I developed a quiet affection for the place. Whenever I infrequently went back home I visited the pub, and would always find a chair jammed into the push bar of the emergency exit next to the Gents toilet. At first I dismissed this as rowdy behaviour, but over time found various chairs in the same position and accepted it simply as part of the dilapidated décor and unfriendly atmosphere.
I considered taking my camera on these visits to document the changing of these chairs as part of a project, which seemed almost like the changing of the guard, but the idea remained just that, until my final visit when told by the barman the pub was closing in days. All I had with me was my cheap phone with its low quality camera, but I wanted to take at least one picture for memory. Taking the picture quickly not wanting to be disturbed and unused to the settings, this is the result. What I realised when looking at the picture was that the upholstered chair was actually in surprisingly good condition, unlike the chairs throughout the pub, as if for the final few days of operation, only the
best chair for this peculiar job would do.
I haven’t edited this photo in any way.