Marc Provins

I much prefer the word oblong to rectangle, it sounds more descriptive and less technical.  I'm always pleased when something emerges through my photography that has been bouncing around in my head and these two pictures from a trip to Llandudno yesterday are a case in point. I've been thinking about height and width, shape, composition, framing, in short the canvas size that we all have to consider when making pictures.  I imagine that most photographers happily stick to the shape of the picture forced on them by the maker of their camera, this usually being based on the proportions of the sensor and reflected by the shape of the viewfinder or screen. Although it's possible to change this in the menu or to crop the image later on in post-production, I wonder how many people do this on a regular basis.  One of the reasons I struggled with digital photography for some time was the shape of the final picture. Most contemporary cameras adopt the proportions of a 35m

Humans love control.

Why does imagination fill in the gaps?

A hidden disused space in the centre of Antwerp, with a pink room and a green room next to one another. One of the things I enjoy about Antwerp is that history is everywhere as you stroll or cycle through the streets. Generally contemporary developments are of a high standard and often pretty experimental, creating an interesting dynamic when buffered up against building that may have stood for hundreds of years.  Although Manchester is a much more exciting city than when I moved here, I get frustrated that the powers that be seem content to allow developers to rip down interesting older buildings and replace them with cheap generic blocks. We could learn a lot from the Belgians.  There are two such buildings under threat at the moment. The first Century House is a 1930's building that looks perfectly proportioned in the streetscape with a unique relief of George Fox the founder of the Quakers on it's frontage. The other is The Cornerhouse on Oxford Street whic

  We think we can control flora and fauna, but nature will always win.

Over the water from Antwerp is Linkeroever, the left bank. It is the city's frumpy, less stylish sister left looking longingly back across the river Scheldt at her hip, urban sibling. It has a unique atmosphere, due to it's wide open suburban street plan and relative lack of people. I always feel like I'm in a sci-fi film, maybe a zombie movie. So I was particularly excited to discover a new addition this summer - the Belgian Flower Monsters. These bizarre beasts aren't designed to frighten, they are meant to beautify the concrete and tarmac expanse, however to me they look like leftovers from a 1970's episode of Dr. Who. 

My dad has a theory that we are often fascinated by the era that came just before we were born. Maybe this is because you hear older family members reminiscing about this time with affection as you grow up and it takes on a magical aura. The 1950's and 60's have this allure for me. I love the aesthetic of this period, which seems to encapsulate a sense of optimism and innocence missing from some of the modern world.  I was a little over excited to say the least to stumble across aux Ciseaux d'Or in Brussels last week. I was with my friend Heleen and drawn in by the elegant typeface of the signage we crossed the road to inspect the window display, which turned out to be eccentric and stylish, furnished with curious vintage mannequins. Frustratingly the shop was shut but luckily returning to the car later in the day we could spy people inside. My multilingual friend used her charms to get us over the threshold where we found a perfectly preserved and functioning clothes