Creative Earth Eco Fest 2026

Creative Earth Eco Fest at Cliffe Castle, Keighley

This little free festival sounded worth a visit and I had a very enjoyable time. 

Set in the grounds of Cliffe Castle, Keighley, Eco Fest was produced by Impressions Gallery and Photo Hub North CIC. It hoped 'to help people respond to the current environmental emergency in positive and creative ways', using plant-based art and photography activities, artist-led workshops, a sustainable fashion show (which I sadly didn't see, as it was later in the day), pop-up photo gallery, outdoor play, photo trail, wellbeing taster sessions, talks, music, dancing, food and more. 

I particularly enjoyed the photographic work on display. There were some lovely portraits, by Louis Little, of people involved in the regenerative farming movement, with little labels telling you who they were and what they did. Most encouraging reading! 

Another display was of anthotypes, created by pupils at Beechcliffe school, a local specialist school for students with complex needs. Anthotypes are eco-friendly, camera-less photographic prints created using light-sensitive plant pigments (beetroot on the left, turmeric and spinach on the right) exposed to sunlight. They are a bit like cyanotypes but not involving chemicals. 

There was a display of beautiful Ukrainian embroidery by Olha Zhydetska:

You could learn T'ai Chi or Nordic Walking, have a forest bathing experience, sketch with charcoal, explore wet felting, try out a darkroom using plant-based developers or investigate a small caravan that was a camera obscura. I'd not booked on any of the workshops so I just wandered around but it was all really friendly and uplifting - a very good day out. 

Martin Parr

 

Another repost, a flashback to ten years ago when I visited The Hepworth in Wakefield :

'Everything in The Hepworth is worth seeing but I especially went along to view the current exhibition of the photographer Martin Parr's work. It is entitled 'The Rhubarb Triangle and other stories'. At its heart is a new commission of photographs of the famous 'rhubarb triangle', an area near Wakefield that specialises in growing the sweet and delicate Yorkshire forced rhubarb, grown in dark sheds and harvested by candlelight. Alongside were many of Martin's other photographs, among them his documentary series focussing on the seaside and the middle classes in the 80s. If you don't know his work, do look him up. He manages to be both funny and poignant, and some of his images are a scathing commentary on life in Thatcher's Britain towards the end of the twentieth century.

The wonderful collage shown above is called 'Common Sense' - highly saturated images of 'bits and bobs' of life in the 90s, wonderfully kitsch and quite bizarre but somehow a fascinating archive.

The four people were watching a video about Martin Parr, listening through headphones. Every now and again they'd all guffaw with laughing, which added to the slightly odd feeling, since I didn't know what they were laughing at.'

It's poignant now, as Martin Parr died in December 2025. He was the same age as me... That's quite sobering. 

The red dress

 

Apologies if you remember seeing this photo before. I came across it again the other day and I still like it. I posted it way back in 2010 and I may even have reposted it since, but I appear to have lost the original image file. I took it at a fashion show in the Victoria Hall, in the early days of my photographic journey. It was dark and my camera wasn't coping with the lack of light and the movement of the models so it ended up blurred. That, however, is one of the reasons I like it, as you can sense that 'swish' of the dress. I once entered it in a camera club competition and the judge slated it. (No soul, these judges!)

Anyway, no apologies for filling up a blog space with it; it's just to preserve a memory. 

More of my art works

More of the artworks I have in my home...

The first image is a photograph by a Yorkshire-based photographer, Lizzie Shepherd. Called 'Broken birch, Hodge Close', she says: 'This damaged birch tree, with its wonderful mix of colours and form immediately caught my eye when exploring near Hodge Close Quarry in the Lake District. It was an overcast day, with soft light and low cloud offering the perfect conditions for woodland photography. Hodge Close, Cumbria, England.' 

Lizzie is brilliant at making sense of complicated woodland scenes, as well as mastering landscapes in general. I've long admired her work. I've had the good fortune to attend a couple of her workshops and watch some of her presentations to my camera club. I've been inspired by her and have learnt a lot from her, as well as enjoying her company. I bought this print when she offered it to raise money (as far as I recall) for a fellow photographer who'd had a serious accident. So for me that was a double bonus. 

I display it alongside a small print that I bought from the Skipton 'Art in the Pen' exhibition years ago. It's a painting rather than a photograph but it seems to me to echo some of the same qualities and tones as Lizzie's image. I had it framed and it's so well sealed that I cannot now see any label with the artist's name, which is a bit silly as I can't recall who I bought it from! I do like it though. Both of these pieces have given me pleasure for several years now. 

Fusedale

Another of my long-cherished artworks on display in my home: a beautiful photo, sadly not authored by me. It was taken by a renowned Lake District photographer, John Gravett. I met John when I attended one of his workshops at Lakeland Photographic Holidays way back in 2011, not all that long into my own journey into photography. I didn't even have a very good camera in those days; in fact it was John who encouraged me to take my photography more seriously and invest in a decent DSLR camera. I learned a huge amount from him in the space of a week, about composition and about the technical side of camera skills and post-processing. I also learned that I haven't the patience to be a dedicated landscape photographer! John is now retired, though still taking beautiful photos. (Photographers never stop developing!) 

This particular monochrome print is the remnants of a barn in Fusedale, just south of Ullswater in the NE Lake District. I particularly enjoy the drama of the sky and the way the shape of the ruined building mirrors the contours of the surrounding hills. 

Arts Trail Day 3

 

Day Two of Saltaire Arts Trail was sadly marred by awful weather, very wet all day. Happily, I had other plans so I gave it a miss. Day Three was dry, though overcast, so at least the visitors didn't get drenched and the venues didn't have to contend with dripping coats, brollies and wet shoes. 

There was a Makers' Fair in the Victoria Hall, but I didn't explore that. They tend to be much the same year on year, and so much art and craft can be overwhelming, I find. I didn't want to be tempted into buying anything either and, if you're not on the lookout for a purchase, it never seems so meaningful. There seemed to be plenty of visitors though and I spotted lots of folk coming away with bags and boxes of goodies. 

I was more interested in the photography exhibition in Salts Mill's roof space, which was showing work by members of Leeds Photographic Society. There were some attractive images, though mostly in the familiar style of 'camera club competition' entries. I enjoyed the landscapes and some of the creative images.

Nina Hunter, an artist, illustrator and art teacher who lives in Saltaire, opened the Saltaire Art Gallery on Victoria Road a few years ago. She also founded the Saltaire Art School. The gallery seems to have evolved and is now 'Nina Hunter Gallery and Collectors Lounge', where she shows her own work and some carefully considered collaborations with other artists. Much of her work celebrates the feminine and mythology. I like the softness and mystery that she creates, which is at the same time quite powerful. 

Her current exhibition is 'Elysium' - 'a paradise of myth, imagination, and beauty... a world of paintings, embroidery, floral arrangements, and sound that celebrates the boundless possibilities of creativity.'

I loved her own painting in the window, though there were too many reflections (and writing on the window) to show it off well. I could quite happily live with that one on my wall!

In the room at the back, a sunny, yellow, expressive abstract by Clare Ninham sat rather nicely above the Victorian fireplace. 

The Gallery's basement had a series of paintings by Oliver Walton: 'The Common Place'. Deliberately counterpointing the other exhibition, these were precise depictions of 'the poetry of everyday spaces' - the kind of subject you more often find explored through photography than paint. NOT the kind of thing I'd hang on my walls but thought-provoking nevertheless, and it was interesting to see our local environment depicted in this way. 

A hint of sunshine

More of the artwork I have in my home...

I absolutely adore this little print. I met Rob Friel, the photographer, many years ago: a fellow participant on the first photography workshop I ever attended. We subsequently became Facebook friends and it was on his page that I saw this picture, which I believe he took on holiday in the USA. For some reason I fell in love with it and asked Rob if I could buy a print. He very kindly sent me a copy as a gift and I've had it on my wall ever since, now happily hanging in my study. I've never been quite sure exactly what about it appeals to me so much. It's quite a simple image; its square format, the 'magic' three trees and a gentle colour palette give it - to me - a calming, almost Zen-like quality. Those little yellow flowers shyly peeping out from behind the birch trunks bring a hint of sunshine. Gorgeous. I love it every time I look at it. 

 

We've got our beady eyes on you

Another in my occasional series documenting the artworks I have in my home...

This photograph of two little owl fledglings was taken by professional wildlife photographer Oliver Wright. I had the good fortune to attend a photography workshop that Oliver co-led a few years ago in the Yorkshire Dales. Fast forward a year or two and he came to give a talk at a nearby camera club, so I decided I'd go along. He was generously offering two of his prints in a raffle to raise funds for the club. I bought some tickets, never imagining I'd actually win anything but, to my surprise, one of my ticket numbers was first out of the bag! I had the choice of which prize to go for and chose this one. 

The cute, comic, little owls are among my favourite birds and these two have a kind of 'Mona Lisa' quality, in that their eyes follow you around the room! Add to that the gravestone they are perched on - poor little Roland, whoever, he was - and the whole image has a charm and poignancy that I love. 

On Oliver's website he says this about it: 

Wide Aperture Saltaire #4

As I said yesterday, experimenting around Saltaire with a wide aperture on my lens was quite a learning curve. When I was just taking a broad street scene, as above, having an aperture of 4.5 instead of my usual 11 or so had a negligible effect, the far distance looking just a little hazy. 

With the same aperture of 4.5, if I focused on something much nearer but separated some distance from the background, like this rose, the blurring effect was much more pronounced  

When the background isn't so far away from the point of focus (as above and below), the blurring effect is there but less strong. 

When you focus on something further away (below, the focus is on the lamp), again the effect is reduced. 

On this last one, I focused on the artichoke head, beyond the railings and the blur on the railings is very pronounced. I don't generally like images with a foreground blur, finding them a bit uncomfortable to view. 

All good fun and quite educational. I should do more such practice and I'd be a better photographer but I usually just set the basics, point and shoot. I'm not generally one for faffing about! 

Wide Aperture Saltaire #3

Whilst in Salts Mill, I had a mooch around the antiques centre. I love it in there. It's rammed with all sorts of stuff, from expensive collector's pieces to small, inconsequential items. The varied colours in these spools of thread caught my eye and I enjoyed how the light played out: bright in the foreground and dimmer towards the back. This was a good subject for practising with a narrow depth of field. 

A rack of kimonos or dressing gowns also seemed like a good potential subject but I didn't quite achieve the effect I was hoping for. On the other hand, the boxes of old vinyl records gave me the recessional effect I wanted but ended up looking just a bit messy. It was an interesting learning curve, experimenting with a wide open aperture. 

Wide Aperture Saltaire #2

On the day we had our club outing, it was very warm outside so, after a while, I sought relief in the relative cool of Salts Mill. Those thick, Victorian, stone walls keep out much of the heat and many of the windows have blinds to protect the artworks from sunlight damage. 

The bust of Sir Titus Salt made a good subject for a shallow depth of field. Then, I wanted to showcase that amazing decorative urn, one of the many ceramic pieces in the Mill's collection made by Burmantofts pottery in Leeds. Throwing the background out of focus helps it stand out. 

Up a couple of floors to the bookshop, and I made several attempts to get a good recession in the line of brightly coloured light fittings. I was satisfied with this shot. 

Finally, Gallery Two, beyond Salts Diner, has a nice red wall punctuated by windows shaded by these distinctive blinds with a 'dancing man' theme. The blinds protect the art and photos displayed in this gallery. They've been there a long time now and look rather faded and discoloured but they are still quite an interesting feature and I enjoyed the way the sunlight crept in to light up the window recesses. 

 

Wide Aperture Saltaire #1

It was a bit of a busman's holiday for me when we had a camera club outing to Saltaire, but I still enjoyed it very much: good company and satisfying photography. We were set the challenge of keeping our lens on its widest aperture, which, put simply, means that the area in focus will be much more restricted than with a narrower aperture. My lens only opens up to between 4.3 and 5.6 (depending how 'zoomed' it is) so it has a limited effect unless I'm focusing on a small detail.  Nevertheless, I relished the challenge and it was interesting to see where it had an effect and where it made little difference. As I've said before, placing a restriction on myself often helps me to be more creative and I found that to be the case this time too. 

I've called the picture above 'Soon there will be blackberries'. There are brambles aplenty along the side of the railway line, though I wouldn't normally bother taking a photo of them. I was, however, quite pleased with this effort. 

Similarly, the railings between Salts Mill yard and Victoria Road made an intriguing image that usually I'd walk right past. 

Ah yes, the bins. A lot of people find them a compelling subject for a photo, ranged down Saltaire's back alleys. In this case I was pleased to find a small length of yellow twine on one, which made a good focal point for my photo: 'Tie a yellow ribbon...'

A few pretty, purple flowers tucked into the top of a wall tempted me to try focusing right on the front edge of my photo, not a particularly conventional approach but I think it worked here. 

Towards Minimalism

I sat in on a very interesting photography talk on Zoom recently. The speaker was Caroline Preece and her subject was 'Minimalism'. I don't really think of myself as a 'minimalist' photographer, most of the time, but the images she showed kept reminding me of photos in my archive, so I dug a few of them out. 

Her criteria for minimalism were: 

- the images contain only what is absolutely necessary

- they have intent

- there is simplicity in the composition

- they contain 'negative space'

- they have a limited colour palette 

- they have balance and intentional framing

- they may contain elements of rhythm, pattern or repetition

Most of my selected photos fail these criteria on one or more levels, but I do think they are inclining towards minimalism at least. I began to realise that it's a topic that really interests me, so I shall have to think a bit more about it and try a few more intentional shots.  

The three images here are from my archives and I may have shown a couple of them on my blog before, though not for a long time. I just like them and they have stuck in my mind, for whatever reason. 

Inspiration

One of the joys of having moved to my apartment is that there is much more wall space suitable for hanging pictures. I've been able to put this print in my hallway, facing the front door. It gives me a great deal of pleasure every time I look at it, and I think the dark blue wall paint really sets it off. It's one of my oldest pieces of art, a print of a photograph by Georges Meis, a Greek photographer whose work is sold by the ton in tourist spots in Greece: prints, calendars, postcards. I must have had it for over forty years, bought as a memento of a Greek island holiday. (I'm a great fan of that 'Greek blue' you see everywhere on the islands.) 

It's associated with very happy memories for me and yet... more than that... It's hard to describe but in many ways it represents the first time I became interested in photography as an art form, rather than simply a record or snapshot. There is something about the liquid quality of the print, almost as if it was shot underwater, and the way that the shadows blend with the cracks on the wall so that you can't really tell which is which. The whole has a kind of balance, lyricism and movement that appeals to me. I think it was where my own photographic journey really started, and so it means a lot to me. 

Product photography

I seem to be running low on photos for some reason, so I thought I'd post one I took recently at a practical evening at my camera club. We had a guest speaker called Haydn Bartlett, who is a professional food and product photographer. He showed us how he sets up and lights his work, and then we took it in turns to photograph the set-up. (So I can't take any credit at all for what is shown, since all I did was press the shutter button on my camera.) I'm not sure that practical events work all that well in a big club, as all that happens is you queue for your 'turn' and then have to hurry to take the photo. With more time and thought, I'd have got a better composition. I did, however, end up with a cheery and inviting picture of a bowl of soup. To be honest, it's more likely to encourage me to make some soup than to take more food photos. I adore making soup, there's something quite magical about turning a few odds and ends of left-over vegetables (that might otherwise get thrown away) into a comforting, warming, nutritious soup. It's a kind of alchemy. 

'The Necessity of Seeing'

The second exhibition I went to see in Bradford was at the Impressions Gallery. It was a photographic display: 'Nationhood: Memory and Hope'. Portraits made by several photographers across the UK: England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland, celebrate the diversity of modern Britain and how we try to shape our identities and communities to make the world a better place. 

Alongside those were some photographs by Ethiopian photographer Aïda Muluneh, 'The Necessity of Seeing', commissioned for the UK City of Culture 2025 and shot in Bradford, Belfast, Glasgow and Cardiff. They were very powerful images, strongly coloured and full of symbolism. I liked them a lot, though I'm not sure I could fully grasp the whole of the underlying thrust: 'stories of a nation negotiating between the weight of its past and the challenges of its present'.

Read HERE the artist's own statement about the exhibits. 'Every frame reflects the whispers of quiet truths that linger beneath the surface, waiting to be seen.'

The heavily made up figures, with whited faces, were powerful in that the stylisation removed the sense of the woman as a personality, each making a statement beyond that of an individual... though we did ponder the irony that 'blackface' in performance art is no longer culturally acceptable (to the extent that even our traditional Morris Dancers these days tend to eschew it) but 'whiteface' here seems to be - and maybe that's precisely one of the statements Aïda is making in her art. 

Practice

Where better to try out my new camera than my happy place, Bolton Abbey? We were blessed with a pleasant day: dry and mild, with some weak sunshine and almost a hint of spring in the air. It takes me about an hour to walk to the Strid and back from the Cavendish car park, though I do stop a lot, to take photos and simply to breathe and drink in the peacefulness. I don't always stop for refreshments when I'm on my own. It's always more fun to chat with a friend over a coffee. This time, however, I was hungry so I treated myself to a pot of tea and a cherry bakewell tart in the Cavendish Pavilion. Those tarts are so sweet and synthetic but the combination of almond frangipane, cherry jam and fondant icing makes them my guilty pleasure! 

As for my camera, well, I'm liking it. Its small size is taking some adjusting to, but it feels solid in my hand and the main controls are easy to use. It seems to tend towards slight overexposure but I'm sure I'll be able to remedy that (and it can be adjusted in post-processing). Where I'm having a bit of difficulty so far is with the more detailed features. I tried to use the macro setting for close-ups but I couldn't get the focus right. So, back home, I can read the manual and practice that until it becomes familiar. I always prefer to research once I've hit a snag. That way I remember it better, rather than simply trying to read the information and get it to stick in my mind. 

Anyway, I had an enjoyable afternoon (much better than the morning, which I spent at the dentist!) 

A trip to Bolton Abbey always lifts my spirits.