The Night

The Night : Milan One of the images on show at HIP http://www.davidmorrisphotographer.com/exhibitions.xhtml
The Night : Milano

The Night

This affects me like one of Edward Hopper’s paintings; bleak, lonely and lost. There is human contact somewhere here, something will happen. But what? The posters on the wall at odds with the reality of existence, all they hold are false promises.

Some Barlife images now on show at The Gallery Norfolk 60 St Giles, Norwich and also available from the Bircham Gallery Holt

More Barlife images here:                            http://www.davidmorrisphotographer.com/porfolio_index/Barlife_index.xhtml

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmail

Interiors

Interiors one of the images on show at HIP http://www.davidmorrisphotographer.com/exhibitions.xhtml
Interiors Milano

Interiors

I don’t know what there is to detain people in this photograph. Absolutely nothing is going on. Blood red walls, an empty bar, a door open in the street opposite. Edward Hopper could be quietly painting this scene, there’s nothing here and there’s everything.

Via Savona is the street that runs just outside the window, it’s a lively place, full of exciting bars, which seemed to add to the loneliness of this interior.

I waited patiently for someone to come in, to take a seat, order a drink, give a sense of scale, add the warmth of humanity.

If you were feeling alone, facing up to our ancient dilemma, ‘what’s the point of existence?’ this was not the place to ask the question.

I waited a bit longer.

No one appeared.

Some Barlife images now on show at The Gallery Norfolk 60 St Giles, Norwich and also available from the Bircham Gallery Holt

More Barlife images here:                            http://www.davidmorrisphotographer.com/porfolio_index/Barlife_index.xhtml

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmail

The girl in the yellow trousers

The girl in the yellow trousers Milan Now showing at Hull International Photography Gallery
The girl in the yellow trousers Milano

The girl in the yellow trousers

This is the same girl as ‘The girl who never smiled’ in the previous post. When I got home to England I realized I had a special image, I determined on my next trip to Milan to track her down and show her the photograph.

 Yes I know it sounds bad, but just stay with me.

 I found her in this bar a year later. She was busy writing copious notes; I think she was an artist. She wore the yellow trousers for practical reasons; Milan was suffering a series of torrential downpours.

I showed her the photograph I had taken the previous year, I was worried, I thought she might be angry, but she wasn’t, if anything she seemed flattered, and agreed to sit for this portrait.

We exchanged email addresses and I sent her copies of both photographs, but never heard from her again.

Such is my luck with women.

And the time I saw her smile?

She asked the barman for hot water and sugar, it’s something the bar staff will sometimes do to help people stay in a bar a little longer when they don’t have much money. Being a gentleman he obliged.

She smiled and the room lit up.

Some Barlife images now on show at The Gallery Norfolk 60 St Giles, Norwich and also available from the Bircham Gallery Holt

More Barlife images here:                            http://www.davidmorrisphotographer.com/porfolio_index/Barlife_index.xhtml

 

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmail

The girl who never smiled

 

The girl who never smiled Milan
The girl who never smiled Milano

The girl who never smiled

I’d seen this young women in the Navigli area of Milan, she was very striking looking, but I never saw her smile, not the once.

Well OK, maybe the once.

I’d tried to photograph her in a café a few days earlier, but she realized what I was doing, picked up her bag and stormed off. Then she came into a bar where I was drinking. I thought I won’t get another chance like this, but I had my back to her and I couldn’t risk turning round

I held the camera up back to front and fired blind, checked the framing and fired again. I was expecting an out of focus badly composed image. This is what I got.

The sax player was a gift.

What makes her so melancholic? She has a beautiful bone structure, and the confidence to sit at a bar without a drink unconcerned by what anyone thinks, including the barman. She looks like she wouldn’t suffer fools gladly, her aloneness is fortress strong.

Some Barlife images now on show at The Gallery Norfolk 60 St Giles, Norwich and also available from the Bircham Gallery Holt

More Barlife images here:                            http://www.davidmorrisphotographer.com/porfolio_index/Barlife_index.xhtml

 

 

 

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmail

A girl in Bruges

A girl in Bruges
‘A girl in Bruges’

A girl in Bruges

It’s this interaction of eye contact, and body language that fascinates me. In bars we are all watching each other, you wonder what the story is, what’s the narrative? You look for the clues. You are inches away from finding out, this isn’t the street, it’s a bar, talking to strangers is acceptable.

In the ‘A girl in Bruges’, there’s a man in her life, you can just see the edge of him on the left hand side. He hasn’t got her undivided attention has he? My wife said perhaps he’s a photographer – cruel.

But what is going through her mind? And look at those long elegant fingers. The girl behind her getting ready to leave also echoes the expressive nature of the hands. Maybe these are the hands of a musician – or a dancer? People I’ve shown this photograph to have different ideas about her relationship to the man opposite and her possible occupation. What is certain is, everyone loves to speculate, to have an opinion, this is what we spend our life doing; wondering about the people around us.

 

 

 

 

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmail

An old Spaniard contemplates the night

An old Spaniard contemplates the night : Santander
An old Spaniard contemplates the night : Santander Spain

An old Spaniard contemplates the night

We were in the back streets of Santander, the rain had been coming down in a deluge, the night was dark and hot. The old Spaniard stared out into the street watching those who dared the rain. He hadn’t been in the best of moods, he’d lost some money in another bar, but now he was calm watching the night, lost in thought. He looked like a fighter; a fast car went down the street, crashing water on to the pavement, his gesture to the insult was swift and uncompromising I wanted to capture the interior of the bar and the street scene outside, it meant doing a ‘stitched’ shot. I thought I could do this without the Spaniard noticing.

I was wrong.

We can fight or we can drink
We can fight or we can drink

 

 

 

facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmail