I thought I had a good handle on most British landscape and documentary photographers, but while scrolling one afternoon I came across a wonderful photographer who, from the 70s through to the 90s, documented rural and farming life in Devon — James Ravilious. I’ve since added a gallery to my website, inspired by watching that episode and discovering his work.


Whenever I'm laying out a gallery, rather than randomly placing images, I do so with the viewer in mind, who will quite possibly view the square thumbnails as a whole before clicking through. I therefore treat the gallery's landing page as a panel, arranging the photographs in such a way that they sit together harmoniously.



I’ve led a number of black and white photography workshops in Dartmoor over the years; I feel participants get more out of a workshop when there’s a specific style or technique to adhere to, which ultimately gives focus and direction. The feedback is always positive, and I combine laptop tutorials with fieldwork — it’s a nice combination, and although I enjoy giving every workshop, my black and white ones, whether in Dartmoor or, more recently, the Yorkshire Dales, are, because of my penchant for monochrome, particular favourites.
Dartmoor in Black and White Photography Gallery

Aside from the usual views one associates with Dartmoor, there are some delightful areas home to beautiful, knarly oaks smothered in moss and ferns.

James Ravilious' Endless Summers
The workshops are often held in March, a time of year which, like autumn, suits workshops well, where the weather can be ‘interesting’ and the days are neither too long nor too short, which helps retain their social aspect — something which, although not entirely lost, is harder to achieve during long summer days. As a result, unless forced (i.e. nature’s rhythm dictates), I generally have the summer off and resume workshops in September.
Although I don’t have any immediate plans to hold another anytime soon, I’m sure I’ll be adding one to the photography workshops page in the not‑too‑distant future. I love Dartmoor, and although no excuse is ever needed to return, hosting a workshop does rather give me a lovely reason to do so. If this is something that piques your interest, then do drop me a line and I’ll be sure to get in touch and offer you first refusal. Of course, as always, there’s no obligation — you’ll simply hear about it before others.




