The Art of Focus

Yesterday I attended a warm and friendly do held at Metal, Edge Hill railway station, Liverpool. They are based in the old ticket office on platform 1 — a truly cool location. photography needs an obsessive compulsive streakWith lots of other peeps, I watched The Suitcase Ensemble give a selection of their stage work. I had asked if I could photograph them performing (there are some strict penalties for photographing theatrical works, if you’re caught). Having got permission, I entered the photog’s zone: the waiting room people behind lenses go to when they’re about to snap. Which coming to think further on the photog’s zone, there’s rather a Freudian connotation to it — it is conducive to being either happy or angst-ridden. photog’s zone: the waiting room people behind lenses go to when they’re about to snapSo whilst ducking and weaving, trying to find the right angles, and nurse/cajole open a stuck aperture, it dawned on me that the clunk of the shutter wasn’t compatible with the setting/ambiance, nor as an accompaniment to the music in the intimate space in which the performance was being given. I have to admit that is a first for me… photography needs an obsessive compulsive streak — and tunneled sight. The double-entendre of focus vis photography bounced and boggled my mind for a wee while. Zoning in behind the lens does make photogs selfish; sure, the images have to made but perhaps being a better and greater photog requires more being than doing…? Viewer or participant: a quandary, in’it.