36 Partick to Govan Bridge - Andrew Albert Flannigan ARPS
54 A Night on the Toon! - Harry Hall FRPS
76 12 Days - John Harrison
92 Documentary Group Events and News
94 Jakartas - The Motorcycle Taxi Phenomenon in Senegal - Maria Tomas-Rodriguez
112 My View of Melbourne’s Graffiti - Ted Richards ARPS
130 Document Scotland - Colin McPherson
152 Slate City - Kyle McDougall
170 Documentary Group Online
Document Scotland
Colin McPherson p130
Image: Craig Easton
A Night on the Toon!
Harry Hall FRPS p54
Nick Hedges: Home in the Shadows
Dan Watts p08
Slate City
Kyle McDougall p152
From Our Chair
This edition is the first put together by our new editor Wayne Richards, with help from Lyn and Rachael and published by Dave. A great start.
We open with the transcript and images from the film by Dan Watts on the renowned British Documentary Photographer, Nick Hedges, who sadly passed away earlier this year. Nick was interviewed by Val Mather, as part of our Engagement Talk series in 2022.
Nick’s images from the 1960s and 1970s portray some of the deprivation and resilience from that era. Those who attended our recent Engagement Talk by Jim Mortram will have seen that some things have not changed that much, for some.
This edition has work by five Documentary Group members Andrew Albert Flannigan ARPS, John Harrison, Maria Tomas-Rodriguez, Ted Richards ARPS and Fenton Medal award winner Harry Hall FRPS. Once again, the work published shows the diversity and storytelling opportunities. There is also a discussion with Colin McPherson of Document Scotland about their journey as a collective and the challenges of working in long-form documentary. We finish with an interview with Kyle McDougall and his long-term project Slate City, exploring North Wales.
Around the time of going to press, on 18 November, we will be announcing the nine selected projects for our Documentary Awards 2025 (DPA 2025). The shortlist has already been posted on the Documentary webpages (rps.org/groups/documentary/dpa). The next edition in early 2026, will feature the Documentary Awardees and their projects. We will also provide more information on the UK Touring Exhibition in the near future.
The work shown in this edition and from the shortlisted and selected projects in our DPA 2025 yet again show the diversity of photography and storytelling, much of it in local communities and illustrates the many opportunities we have to tell new stories and raise awareness.
For those looking for guidance of starting and working on a project, we have some new courses on our Events page.
On a personal note, I informed the Documentary committee that I do not intend to stand for re-election at the next AGM (March 2026), so we will need to identify candidates for Chair. I will continue to do some voluntary work, mainly teaching and mentoring, but after eight years as Chair, I think you deserve a change.
Nick Brewer has now taken over the web and social media roles, but we still have some volunteer roles we would like to fill, spreading the load makes it much easier for everyone. We are still looking to recruit for roles to help us put more activities on. We currently have a need for people with:
Event organisation (i.e. putting on talks), and
Publicity and fundraising to support our next touring exhibition. If you can help with any of these please contact me (doc@rps.org)
Mark A Phillips FRPS Chair, Documentary Group
The Documentary Group Team
Documentary Group Committee:
Chair: Mark A Phillips FRPS doc@rps.org
Secretary: Nick Linnett LRPS docsecretary@rps.org
Finance Officer: Andrew Burton ARPS docfinance@rps.org
Members: Valerie Mather ARPS, Harry Hall FRPS, Wayne Richards, Dave Thorp, Neil Cannon
Local Group Organisers:
East Midlands: Volunteer Required docem@rps.org
South East: Jeff Owen ARPS docse@rps.org
Northern: Peter Dixon ARPS docnorthern@rps.org
Thames Valley: Philip Joyce FRPS doctv@rps.org
Central (with Contemporary): Steff Hutchinson ARPS
North West (with Contemporary): Alan Cameron
Yorkshire: Graham Evans LRPS docyork@rps.org
Southern: Christopher Morris ARPS docsouthern@rps.org
East Anglia: Richard Jeffries docea@rps.org
Scotland (with Contemprary et al): Steve Whittaker email Steve Whittaker
To support the RPS Strategic Plan Photography for Everyone 2021-2026 and to enhance the relevance for Documentary Photography by engaging more diverse audiences and ensuring our activities self-fund.
Inspiration – showcase inspiring photography and to shed new light on subjects of importance
These activities are focussed around showcasing and celebrating high quality photographic work and thinking:
Engagement talks
The Decisive Moment
Documentary Photography Awards (DPA)
DPA touring exhibition
Skills and Knowledge – encouraging a deeper understanding of photography and providing resources for photographic education and Recognition (such as distinctions and awards)
To develop the range and reach of our educational activities. We want to help photographers develop their practice, and also educate non-photographers about what is current in documentary photography:
Workshops
Engage university courses
Resources and support individual development
Distinction support
Community – promote belonging and inclusivity, by supporting and engaging widely
To engage with more people and connect with other communities, including those who are not photographers, to appreciate the value of documentary photography:
Work with groups outside RPS
Regional and local activities
Website and social media
Online competition
Newsletter
The Documentary Group is run by RPS members who volunteer their time. If you can help in any capacity, please email Mark using doc@rps.org to let him know.
rps.org/groups/documentary/about-us
Home in the Shadows Nick Hedges
Dan Watts
Nick Hedges, the renowned British documentary photographer, passed away in 2025, leaving behind a profound legacy of powerful images that chronicled the struggles of post-war Britain. His work, which often focused on issues like poverty, homelessness, and the lives of working-class communities, captured the raw realities of the 1960s and 1970s with deep empathy and sensitivity. Hedges's intimate and unflinching approach to photography, executed with great sensitivity, brought attention to social injustices, offering a compelling visual record of marginalised lives. His passing marks the end of an era, but his photographs will continue to resonate as a powerful testament to the challenges faced by the most vulnerable in society.
Film maker Dan Watts has kindly let us reproduce the transcript of his film, Nick Hedges: Home In The Shadows, a retrospective documentary commissioned by the National Trust, that shines a light on the photographer whose images sparked a catalyst for change for families living in Britain’s back-to-back houses.
You can view the film at: www.danielwatts.net/filmanddocs/nick-hedges-home-in-the-shadows-2025 Dan Watts - Documentary Filmmaker Director & DOP: www.danielwatts.net
Opposite page: Living in slum property, Hockley, Birmingham, 1969
Growing up in the 60’s meant that I was exposed to a lot of radical, liberal ideas about what society should become.
That had an enormous influence on a young person.
As a student, I could only afford 2 or 3 rolls of film. I always had to watch very carefully the film counter. I could buy a Leica M2, second-hand, for £100. You don't hear the shutter going off. It's so quiet, so it doesn't draw attention.
I decided to apply to the School of Art in Birmingham, to study photography.
I moved to Birmingham, and found accommodation in Handsworth, and it was absolutely liberating. That sort of closed middle class community that I’d grown up in was blown apart by living in Handsworth, and I found everything novel.
I was particularly engaged with the interrelationship of different cultures.
I discovered this pub in Soho Road, and they had a jazz night every week, and it was probably my first really successful attempt at documentary.
Birmingham Housing Trust had established a link with the School of Photography, and that was to produce an exhibition to illustrate the work of the Housing Trust, and I immediately thought this was the right kind of project for me to do. I was given the job of photographing poor housing in Birmingham, discovering for myself and for the Housing Trust what conditions were like.
If you go on the number 8 bus route back in the mid-sixties, it virtually took you through every slum district - Ladywood, All Saints, Hockley, Aston, Allum Rock, Sparkbrook. It was an absolute eye opener for me.
I couldn't believe that young British families were living in conditions like this.
Birmingham had grown very fast in the mid 19th century, as it became almost the industrial manufacturing centre of Britain, and a lot of the rural population moved into Birmingham to satisfy the labour market.
Housing was built near the factories, so people walked to work. Those houses, they were adequate, but they were cheaply built. By the 1920-30’s they were falling into disrepair.
Birmingham constructed a redevelopment plan in the 1930s which involved a lot of slum clearance. But then the Second World War began in 39’ and everything stopped. The country was impoverished by the Second World War. There wasn't money available to carry out the plans.
By the 60s and 70s, those houses which had been condemned in 1930 were still standing - people were still living in them.
Birmingham was still thriving. It was big on motor industry…bicycles. The Jewellery Quarter was still going well.
The call to prayer, Mosque, Wolverhampton, 1976
Street running down to the Tyne, Newcastle, 1970
It wasn't for lack of money for people to consider moving. It was this endless delay in new social housing, so they were left in limbo.
Birmingham Council in the late 60’s was the biggest slum landlord in Europe. What they had been doing was compulsory purchase of all these areas to allow them to redevelop.
Most of the people I went and photographed lived in houses that didn't have any washing facilities. The loos were all outside. They had a sink, but no baths. No running hot water or heating. The kitchens were tiny. Bomb damage from the Second World War.
It was a struggle for all of these families to deal with just daily life, and at the same time, they felt trapped because there was no way out of it.
The Housing Trust could only do so much. The city council was trapped by a lack of money and the slow progress of demolition.
I didn't feel powerless, but I felt it was more important to try and spread the message that the society we lived in was profoundly unequal.
One of the first things I learned was that I didn't have to, and didn't want to, take photographs when I made my first contact with people.
I just wanted to find out more about them and establish a relationship.
What people get anxious about, and I want to show you is things like damp, crumbling masonry and whatever.
I realised that what I needed to show was the people, to humanise the photographs. I would arrange with them to go back and photograph them as they were putting their children to bed, giving their children a bath in a tin tub.
That schedule is not often available to people working for television or newspapers. They only have a moment to go in, get something and go away. You do find things which are extraordinary.
There was a mother with four children. In talking to her, I realise that one of the significant things I could do there was to photograph when she was putting her kids to bed.
I was just staggered - all the springs to the bed were exposed. There was no mattress. They had no heating in that bedroom, and it had been snowing.
So, I went back in the evening knowing that the light was going to be very poor, so I had a bulb to replace their ordinary light bulb, and I was able to photograph her putting her kids to bed. It was just an unbelievable situation that she was living there.
I wonder where she is now?
I wonder if she is still alive?
Every photograph - I can remember it - the moment stays in my head.
The general public had never realised how bad the housing conditions were for so many people. People were shocked. Someone would say, “Oh, well, that comes from before the war”.
I was sitting in the offices of the Housing Trust one day, pasting these big exhibition prints onto board that was going to be exhibited outside, and this guy just popped his head around the corner and just said “Oh, nice photos!”
[Laugh]
I didn't know who it was, and I just carried on - got the exhibition finished. It was put up around the Town Hall in Birmingham, and then by that time college had finished.
I was on the dole; I was signing on.
[telephone ring]
Then about 2 or 3 weeks later, I got this phone call from London to say would I consider working for Shelter? Well, I just said “Yes, please!“ And they sent me across the country to document all the other slums in the UK.
The impact of the work that we were doing at Shelter, was to move housing up the agenda, to make it more central to whichever government was in power.
Our research helped initiate new approaches and attitudes towards how to deal with it. We were able to make suggestions about rent controls.
Shelter grew from being a very small charity to 1969 when it was receiving donations of over £1 million a year, which back then was a huge amount and so the general public was becoming aware of the crisis.
I remember this MP was addressing the conference and he suddenly picked a Shelter booklet and opened it, and it was a double page spread of one of my photographs and he said, and this was being televised, and he… he just said, “this is absolutely shocking that we exist in a society in which people are forced to live in conditions like this”.
I think that housing has always been a low priority. I don't think it was a prime factor in any government's mindset.
This is one of the big tragedies.
Town planning is architects, and local government didn't realise the significance of the community that existed in those Victorian terraced houses that they were going to demolish in slum clearance.
They just housed them in the cheapest form of housing available then, which were tower blocks scattered all around Birmingham. They were not the right kind of housing for working class communities.
History is so often constrained by the idea of important people, monarchs, rulers, politicians.
I think the legacy for my work is to provide that history of what ordinary life was like.
What happened in the 1980s was the next disaster. Margaret Thatcher's great idea to give everyone the opportunity to own their own home sounded like a liberating, quite a nice idea at the time. But then you realise that of all of the money that was received - local governments were not allowed to spend any money or any of the income from those sales on providing new social housing, so social housing got destroyed.
So many of those joyous moments when people could buy their own home, all of that property is now being bought by private landlords and rented out at huge rents to the same people who had lived in social housing. But the problem exists, that there are millions of people living in very high rent, poor flats.
The work was important for me because it enabled me to make a contribution to an analysis of society, but also to suggest things that needed to be improved and changed, because you need to renew and remind people that life isn’t equal for many people, and people are given a voice.
I’m absolutely thrilled that the National Trust are operating in these areas now, because it will make people think again about why housing is so important.
Why it's important to have a secure base for your family.
History is so often constrained by the idea of important people, monarchs, rulers, politicians. I think the legacy for my work is to provide that history of what ordinary life was like.
Birmingham back to backs and terraces, 1968
Figure at dusk, Constitution Hill, Birmingham,1967
Children playing in a patch of Gorbals wasteland, 1970
Street scene Hockley, Birmingham, 1967
Group by a Guy Fawkes bonfire, wasteland Hockley, Birmingham, 1967
Live music at the Cross Guns pub Soho Rd Handsworth, Birmingham, 1967
Live music at the Cross Guns pub Soho Rd Handsworth, Birmingham, 1967
Kitchen of a Birmingham slum property, 1971
Kitchen on the staircase, Brixton London, 1971
Man dozing in his single room flat, Manchester, 1969
Boy and his new puppy, Winson Green ,Birmingham, 1971
A street corner joke, Liverpool, 1969
Greta giving her little boy a bath, Ladywood, Birmingham, 1968
Mrs D and her daughter in their Liverpool cellar flat, 1969
M puts her children to bed in their Balsall Heath slum, Birmingham, 1969
Mrs
Mrs P and her son, All Saints, Birmingham, 1968
Overcrowded bedroom, Moss Side, Manchester, 1969
The front room of a Hockley back to back house, Birmingham, 1968
Partick to Govan Bridge
Andrew Albert Flannigan ARPS
The Decisive Moment spoke with Documentary Group member Andrew Albert Flannigan, whose latest documentary project turns its attention to the Govan Bridge. Through this work, he is exploring not only the physical presence of the bridge but also its place within the wider visual and cultural landscape of Glasgow. We discussed his artistic process, the challenges of photographing familiar structures, and what he hoped audiences would take away from this body of work.
DM - What drew you to Govan Bridge as a subject for a documentaryproject?
AAF - It's so interesting as the bridge connects two very established communities. On one side, the staunch, working-class area of Govan, largely in decline since the demise of its ship building industry. Today people will recognise it for its football stadium and traditional taverns. As you step off the bridge in Govan you step back in time. It largely remains as the Glasgow that Raymond Depardon famously photographed in the 1980s.
I lived in Partick 30 years ago and returning today I see so much change. Of course, there are the tenement flats and architectural examples of the last century. However, there has been significant investment including Glasgow University, galleries, museums and housing. Pubs and cafes sprawl over the pavements. The streets are so much busier than Govan where fewer people walk but they do so with a sense of purpose.
I immediately wanted to start to document the contrasts, and I felt there was so much opportunity to capture daily life in both these communities as a record of ongoing change.
DM - Did you approach the bridge as an object to be documented, or as a symbol open to interpretation?
AAF - I think the bridge is beautiful. It complements the transport museum designed by Zaha Zahid which sits at the Partick end. The Farrens Construction staff working on the bridge spoke of their pride in not only the physical beauty of the bridge but also the opportunity it offers to residents on both sides of the Clyde. For me the bridge is the connection that brings together these two rich communities and inspires me to document both communities in one project.
DM - How has spending time in this location influenced your artistic process or thinking?
AAF - Until this project all my street photography was generally candid and I would seldom engage in conversation with the people in my images. I found myself talking to people about their opinions of the bridge and sharing with them what I was photographing. Generally, people in my photographs are props, but with this work that was not the case – I felt empathy and interest in the characters existing in their environment.
DM - What conversations do you hope your images of the bridge willspark?
AAF - If there is one conversation I would like to spark it would be how to preserve the character of Govan. The purpose of the bridge is to bring economic improvement to these deprived areas, and the challenge will be in how to serve this up to the residents of Govan. I don’t think that is simply expanding the catchment area for workers and students in the west end of Glasgow.
The gents outside the pub in Govan told me that the bridge would mean a future pub crawl over to Partick. I would like to think the people in Partick would be planning similar trips to Govan, which I think would offer up a warm and traditional experience for many!
DM - Looking ahead, how do you see this project influencing your future work or artistic direction?
AAF - I worked on the project quite intensively and after a number of weeks I was not getting any results. I couldn’t achieve any sense of success. I made a few changes – engaging with people, visiting at different times of the day, adjusting routes. I didn’t give up and eventually I started to get one or two images I liked and bit by bit I built on this. The greatest influence was that keeping at it brings results eventually.
It's 4 a.m. on a cold, wet Sunday morning. A young woman is slumped in a doorway, choking on vomit. The Street Pastors arrive on the scene: within 10 minutes her throat is clear, she’s been cleaned up, has had a drink and is wrapped in a foil blanket to keep warm. The pastors then contact her parents, who come and pick her up and drive her home. Her night out ended with only a hangover and an embarrassing conversation with mum and dad! However, not all their work is quite so crucial - many visitors to the city just need to be pointed to their hotel or the late-night chippy. The streets are the abode of the city’s homeless population, and the Street Pastors also look after any in need, providing blankets and food vouchers, but more importantly, showing them compassion.
Traditionally, drunkenness has been the source of most problems, occasionally mixed with recreational drugs. More recently, spiking drinks has complicated the situation, mainly because there isn’t a friend who can identify what the victim has ingested. In such cases, the Street Pastors can only keep them warm and conscious until the paramedics arrive.
The Newcastle Street Pastors are a volunteer group that provides support for non-critical incidents, thereby reducing the pressure on emergency services. They are part of a network of organisations, including ambulance, police, door security staff and council staff, who work together to ensure the safety of revellers in one of the UK’s major ‘party cities’.
I was privileged to work alongside them over a number of months to create a photographic archive of their work.
Prior to my nocturnal outings, I was curious about how the public regarded the Pastors, but after 15 years of supporting people, they had earned a lot of ‘street cred’. They were regularly stopped by people saying, “You guys do a great job” or “You saved my friend a few weeks ago - thanks”. On a rare occasion when someone made an abusive remark, a passer-by pointed out to him that he’d be leaving in an ambulance if he didn’t apologise!
My aim was to portray the work of the Street Pastors, and in particular, their interaction with those in need. Photographing candidly on the streets at night is challenging; the situation is dynamic, and events are unpredictable. I was constantly hunting for vantage points to work from. My X-Pro 3’s tilting back screen enabled me to use it as a waistlevel finder, which made working in tight spaces more accessible. There is also a degree of jeopardy in this kind of work; I had to be aware of the human dynamics of the situation, where the mood of intoxicated revellers can become aggressive very quickly. I vigilantly evaluated how passers-by might react to seeing a camera and there were occasions when the camera was kept tucked away when the mood was too volatile to work safely.
There is a compromise to make between one’s artistic intent and the practicalities of working in unpredictable situations at random locations. In my experience, each project finds a signature lens, one whose perspective conveys the character of that story. My ‘go to’ lenses are 16 and 23mm (APS-C) lenses. In the early stages of the project I experimented with these, however, an 18mm lens gave me the desired look. With no time to swap lenses or change cameras, I had to be confident that one lens would deliver. I also experimented with different colour spaces but chose to use monochrome as the haphazard array of coloured lights produced distractions in the images. Rainy nights were my favourites, as the wet streets reflected any light sources, increasing the luminosity of the scene. Metering for the highlights, my standard setup was 1600 ISO, f/2 at 1/125sec, but was increased by a couple of stops in poor light.
The project portrays the Samaritan ethos of a small group of people who look after the needs of those they don’t know.
During 2024, I worked on a participatory photography project called Twelve. The purpose was to reveal the experiences and motivations of foodbank volunteers working in the context of the UK’s Cost of Living Crisis. The number twelve was chosen as it suggests completeness across literature, music, nature, science, and religion. My point was that the volunteering sector complements what the public and private sectors fail to do, especially in difficult times. It was an exciting project to be involved in, and it required a lot of my time and energy. It was successful, though, and the outcomes were exhibited at OXO Tower (London), The National Festival of Making (Blackburn), and the Open Eye Gallery (Liverpool).
2024 had been a very challenging year for me personally. My work life had been intense, with a recent change in my job role meaning I was working increased hours. My wife and my sister were both recovering from illnesses, and in late autumn, my mum required an emergency operation that almost certainly saved her life. Our daughter had also recently purchased her first house and would be moving out of our family home in the new year. By December, I was exhausted and needed some rest and time to process all that had happened.
I wanted to use the holidays to reflect on the year past and prepare for the new year. I’m sure that I wasn’t on my own in this regard, and that many others needed to do the same, for their own reasons. I began to think about how photography could help provide pragmatism and perspective on the previous 12 months. I liked what the project Twelve suggested about completeness, and as I approached the holidays, I linked this to the 12 Days of Christmas. There is much historiography and discourse about the heritage of winter festivals and Christmas celebrations of north-west Europe. It is widely accepted that many of our modern Christmas traditions originate from long-established rituals and beliefs, developed from both paganism and Christianity, as well as many that were popularized during the Victorian era.
I started on Christmas Eve and made some portraits of my mum as we visited her ahead of Christmas Day. My mum has often organised a family gathering on this day, and it’s been a way for us to catch up and wish each other well. We chose a corner of the house to take photographs. I found it rewarding and calming to spend time creating
her portrait, and set out to capture her resilience and strength, as well as her age and vulnerability. This was especially poignant for me, given her recent stay in hospital.
I took photographs every day during the Christmas period. I used the process of creating photographs to cope with and to reflect on all that had occurred during a turbulent year. I don’t mean that everything was bad; there were some true challenges amidst amazing and positive experiences. Making photographs was a way to organise my thoughts, to make sense of it all, and to aid a deep reflection. I felt that it helped me recognise the things I had wanted to experience during the holidays – spending time with family, walking with my dog, and stopping to look at the trees, rivers, and surrounding hills.
I’m aware that the photographs I made may, to some, look melancholic and sombre. I see them as being serious and reflective. They are photographs that made sense to me at the time I made them and still do so. A card sent to my daughter stood upon the mantelpiece in her new home. We spent time there over the holidays, helping her to renovate it before she moved out of our family home in the new year. Making that photograph – a card representing the love of family, set against a wall of bare plaster – helped me consider what life would be like for us and her when she took that next step. Views of the viaduct that we live so near to, which carries trains across the River Calder, reflecting journeys, history, and strength. Saplings planted along the banks of the river reflect future growth. The solemn statue of Mother Mary embodies the weight of parenthood. Slices of freshly baked bread suggest nourishment and sustenance. The photographs blend the notions of Christmas and ancient traditions, melded with my own experiences and reflections.
The photographs are not an attempt to document every day from Christmas Eve to January 5th. 12 Days wasn’t about making a ‘picture a day’. I set out to make at least a few photographs each day, reflecting how I was feeling, and what was prominent in my mind. Once I’d pieced them together, I found that the photographs reflected the things that I’d needed time to consider – thoughts about myself, my mum, my family, and the definite need for me to spend some time resting and reflecting. Photography has many attributes and can be utilised in thousands of ways. As I learned over the Christmas holidays, one of these is to use photography as an aid to reflect, to appreciate, and to recover.
As well as centrally organised events, our Local Groups put on numerous events. These include talks and presentations, workshops or exhibitions of members work, group projects, visits and photo walks, feedback and critique sessions and online Zoom meetings.
We currently have Groups in Northern, Yorkshire, East Anglia, Thames Valley, Southern, South East, and joint groups with Contemporary in Scotland, Central and North West.
RPS Documentary Events can be found on our events page, which includes our Engagement Talks series, Documentary Events and Exhibitions. events.rps.org - Documentary
A few weeks ago, I was contacted by the RPS, asking if I would accept a Fenton Medal. My initial reaction was - they've got the wrong person! For days, I expected an apologetic phone call to explain that they had made a mistake. I'm still waiting! How on earth did that happen, was my second reaction.
It dates back to an Ikea coffee shop about 7 years ago. Surrounded by a swirl of kids whose parents used the café as an ad-hoc play area, I was talking to Mark Phillips on the phone about revamping the Documentary Photographer of the Year Competition. As the new committee member (without a role), he thought I might like to organise a few exhibitions of the winning entries. I’d never organised a touring exhibition before, but I had led some mountaineering expeditions. As the basic principle of both is the same – moving a load of stuff from place to place – It couldn’t be too difficult, I thought naively! However, I had one proviso: if I were to do this, it would be a nationwide event.
We developed a pattern: during odd years, Mark runs the competition element of what is now the DPA, and I organise the touring exhibition for the following year. During even years, we tour the exhibition of the awardee's work.
The touring exhibition has developed from there. Now visiting seven venues in Scotland, Wales & England, last year’s touring exhibition showcased more photographs in more venues, travelling more miles than any other touring photography exhibition in the U.K. This is an ongoing project, as there are still many regions we haven’t yet visited.
This is not a one-man band. I rely on volunteers from regional groups to host the exhibitions, which last year involved around 60 people. A special mention must go to the Northeast Documentary Group, which stores the frames, refurbishes them, and then mounts the next exhibition in them.
However, it recently occurred to me that if I were to be run over by that mythical omnibus, no one would have a clue about the organisation for next year's tour. This raises an important point. The Doc Group has a membership of around 700 people, but relies on just over 1% of its membership to run all the activities. If 2% of the membership were involved, we would be able to do more things for our members and do them better!
We don’t necessarily need huge time commitments. For example, if someone were to take on the publicity for the DPA, that would require a small investment of time but significantly improve our reach.
It's nice to have been recognised for the commitment I’ve made to the DPA Exhibitions; however, this should be a team event, and one person isn't a team.
Jakartas – The Motorcycle Taxi Phenomenon in Senegal
Motorcycle Senegal Maria Tomas-Rodriguez
Jakartas - Maria Tomas-Rodriguez
In Senegal, small motorcycles known as ‘jakartas’ have become a popular mode of transportation, especially in areas with limited road infrastructure. These bikes serve as informal taxis, offering an affordable and fast alternative to public transportation. The name ‘jakarta’ is colloquial for these low-engine (100–150cc), affordable motorcycles. They are mainly imported from Asia, especially China, India, and Indonesia.
Jakartas were first used in regions like Kaolack. Their presence quickly expanded across the country, reaching cities such as Thiès, Saint-Louis, and Ziguinchor. Most drivers, locally referred to as ‘jakartamans’, are young men aged 18–30. Many start working in their late teens after leaving school to find immediate income. This phenomenon has experienced significant growth in recent years. It brings both opportunities and challenges to local communities.
The core function of jakartas is carrying passengers over short or medium distances. This is common in urban neighbourhoods with heavy traffic and in rural areas where public transportation, such as buses or taxis, is scarce. They are often found in key locations, such as markets, hospitals, schools, and bus stations. Jakartamans also transport small goods, parcels, or groceries for local businesses or individuals. Courier services between villages are also common. In rural zones, where ambulances are unavailable or delayed, jakartas sometimes help in emergencies. They transport pregnant women in labour and people needing urgent care.
The unregulated expansion of jakartas has raised concerns among authorities and the public. A lack of road safety training, disregard for traffic rules, and inadequate motorcycle maintenance have contributed to an increase in accidents. In large cities like Dakar, some hospitals have witnessed a surge in motorcycle injuries that has prompted them to modify their emergency services to treat them more efficiently.
Though less common, there have even been reports of drivers involved in crimes like theft or assault. In response, measures have been implemented to organize the sector. These include mandatory motorcycle registration, road safety awareness campaigns, and the creation of driver associations. These organizations aim to represent the jakartamans and provide training to make their work more professional. Jakartas have cultivated a unique youth culture that goes beyond their economic role. Their bold aesthetics, sense of belonging, and group identity show wider social dynamics and aspirations. The Jakartamen ride proudly on colourful motorcycles covered in stickers and distinctive accessories. These customizations are both a form of self-expression and a strategy to attract clients.
Preventive maintenance is limited, with riders often postponing servicing until issues become critical. This increases wear and tear. Jakartamans generally depend on neighbourhood mechanics for prompt repairs that keep motorcycles operational. Some riders join associations that provide support and share maintenance resources, while others opt out of formal groups. Many instead create informal networks to exchange names of trustworthy mechanics and practical maintenance advice.
The "Jakarta-world" is overwhelmingly male; in Dakar, only about fifteen of nearly fifteen thousand taxi drivers are women. Cultural expectations, prescribed gender roles, and safety risks—particularly at night—often deter women from joining the profession.
Graffiti is a fleeting art form, anonymous, layered, and often erased as quickly as it appears. To photograph it is to wrestle with questions of memory, authorship, and loss. In this interview, Ted Richards discusses a recent portfolio on Melbourne’s graffiti culture, exploring how documentary photography can preserve what was never meant to last, and what it means to capture a dialogue between city, artist, and passerby.
DM - Melbourne is often described as one of the world's street art capitals. How do you think its graffiti culture is unique compared to other cities you have photographed?
TR - It may not be entirely unique, but it is different, partly because graffiti is more tolerated in Melbourne and partly because of the way the city was laid out. Melbourne's central business district features many small lanes and alleys with blank walls that are ideal for graffiti artists, but the same does not apply to, say, Sydney. Hosier Lane, for example, is an ideal location for graffiti artists and is also easily accessible to viewers, whether walking or traveling by tram. That means we have a lane that attracts an audience and so the circle continues.
DM - How do you approach photographing graffiti, given its often temporary and ephemeral nature? Do you see yourself as documenting the art itself, or the wider environment and culture surrounding it?
TR - Mostly the art itself. I have never given much thought to its environment or culture. When the climber George Leigh Mallory was asked why he wanted to climb Mount Everest, he replied, "Because it is there". I photograph graffiti because it is there.
DM - Graffiti is often anonymous, created without expectation of permanence. Do you see your photographs as giving these works a kind of ‘afterlife,’ and if so, does that change how you think about authorship?
TR - Yes, graffiti is usually anonymous and yes again, photographs can give the images a permanent form. All photographers of graffiti will have their own archive that they may dispose of as they wish. There is another complicating aspect to this. Should photographers acknowledge the copyright automatically attached to the original artwork just by its creation? Can we use images from our archive and even profit from them without acknowledgement when we don't know whom to acknowledge? Do the artists want or need this acknowledgement when they know that their work is done on a here today, gone tomorrow basis, so there will soon be nothing left to acknowledge? Having asked those questions, I think we would need a room full of barristers to answer them.
DM - What challenges have you faced while working in urban spaces, whether logistical, ethical, or artistic?
TR - No, not really. The only challenges I have faced have been technical onessuch as blurring from slow shutter speeds or subject movement. Also, trying to move selfie-taking viewers getting in the way of something I want to take, using only the force of my willpower. Hint to young photographers: force of willpower doesn't work.
DM - When you photograph graffiti, are you documenting an artwork or a conversation between the city, its artists, and its inhabitants?
TR - I don't think of it that way, but I suppose that, at the same time, I could be documenting all of those things, but also none of them.
DM - Street art is constantly overwritten, painted out, or layered upon. What role do you think documentary photography plays in preserving street art, given how quickly it can disappear?
TR - A photographer may document (and thus preserve) a random set of images, but that doesn't preserve the original. It is not possible for one person to document every item of street art, and it will inevitably be painted over. Each photographer will have preserved their own tiny section and each will have their own archive that they may dispose of as they wish.
DM - Were there particular images in this portfolio that surprised you, or revealed something new about the city?
TR - There is one that shows two young men spraying on opposite sides of a laneway while another person casually watches them and a couple just walks past without taking any notice. This is not in some distant, deserted area, but in the busy Union Lane that connects Bourke Street Mall and is located just opposite the entrance to David Jones, a major department store in Australia. So, whether graffiti is vandalism, art, street art, or something else entirely, it seems that the reaction of the passing crowd is simply, who cares? You may make of it what you will.
DM - Your photographs often capture not just the artwork but also traces of the people who live around it. How important is that human presence, even when no one is directly in frame?
TR - A long time ago, I started taking what is now called ‘street photography’, where the whole point of the photograph is human presence - usually where the person is doing something quirky - and so I welcome a human presence if it seems part of the composition. However, sometimes just recording the artwork will suffice. It's good to have a mixture of both.
DM - Do you consider your work as an archive, an artistic interpretation, or both?
TR - Can you have an artistic interpretation of a street artist's original idea? Are you re-interpreting it? Possibly you can, but to me, it is part of my archive, a collection of my own photographs.
DM - Looking ahead, how do you see this project evolving? Will you continue exploring graffiti culture, or has it led you toward other documentary subjects?
TR - I have been doing this for a long time and will probably take much less graffiti from now on. I have been experimenting with photographing noticeable architectural features such as unusual windows in older buildings and also something completely different, in the shapes and patterns to be found at the seacoast.
Lane, May 2016. "A must-see for street art".
Rutledge
Hosier Lane, May 2016
Council Lane 112, August 2015. Chef and Barrow.
Hosier Lane, May 2019. Outside the restaurant's kitchen.
Hosier Lane, August 2015. A complicated installation.
Hosier Lane, August 2015. Messages of Love and Hope.
Hosier Lane, August 2015. "Reverse the process, catch the graffiti police"
Hosier Lane, March 2019
Unnamed space, Fitzroy, May 2016
Hosier Lane, May 2017
Hosier Lane, May 2017. Happily, a very good selfie.
Union Lane, September 2014. The girl in the jelly-bean blouse.
Hosier Lane, May 2016. The start of the guided tour.
Hosier Lane, May 2016. The art teacher and her class view Hosier Lane
Document Scotland
Colin McPherson
Document Scotland is a collective of photographers dedicated to showcasing Scotland's rich culture through documentary photography. Since 2012, they have launched various projects and exhibitions that offer a unique Scottish perspective on global issues, exploring the nation's evolving identity while blending personal narratives with social themes.
As part of our continuing exploration of contemporary documentary practice, The Decisive Moment spoke to Document Scotland’s Colin McPherson about their journey as a collective, the challenges of working in long-form documentary, and their thoughts on the future of the medium.
www.documentscotland.com
Origins and Formation
Could you tell us about the founding of Document Scotland, what brought you together, and what you felt was missing from the photographic landscape at the time?
We were formed in 2012 principally as a response to the unfolding constitutional questions which the country was facing. Despite our obvious focus being on Scotland, the genesis of the collective took place in Beijing where three of the four original members were working on a short-term project together. Jeremy Sutton-Hibbert, Stephen McLaren and I had a series of discussions about whether it was better to work together or individually at a time when a lot of the political focus appeared to be on Scotland and what opportunities might present themselves if we did. Shortly afterwards, we approached Sophie Gerrard and she became the fourth founding member. It just took off from there.
How has the collective evolved in terms of membership and mission?
Glasgow-based photographer Sarah Fishlock was a member between 2016-18 but left photography to pursue a career in teaching. Over the last couple of years, we have had two further changes with both Jeremy and Stephen leaving to work on their own, whilst we were delighted when both Margaret Mitchell and Craig Easton decided to join us in 2023.
Collective Practice
What does working as a collective allow you to do that might be more difficult as individual photographers?
From the beginning, we had a very strong sense of mission. Our aim was to be at the forefront of Scottish photography, by supporting and promoting not just our own work but that of other photographers making work in or about Scotland. Working collectively allowed us to pool our talents and resources and present a more cohesive and coherent vision for what we were seeking to achieve. We immediately set about developing and delivering several projects, from exhibitions and publications to public events.
These latter Salon evenings proved very popular and we staged a number of these to support our other activities. It allowed us to speak directly to people and grow our audience. It was also enormously beneficial to have the input and support from other photographers, both within and without the collective. We had great fun and a lot of
adventures too. Sometimes we’d disagree about things, but the general direction of travel was always positive and supportive.
How do you balance individual projects with group initiatives?
We very rarely work together on joint photography projects, rather we have always preferred to develop our own work and bring that to the table when we have an opportunity to collaborate on a publication or exhibition. We feel it’s important that each individual collective member has their own distinctive voice and a recognisable style which complements the work the others are doing. Each photographer initiates and develop their own projects and where we do come together, we like to present the work under the banner of Document Scotland whilst retaining that individuality which gives our collective a distinctive character.
Can you describe your process for curating or editing work together for exhibitions or publications?
It really depends on what the stated outcome is. If it is for an exhibition, we have almost always worked with a curator. In terms of publications, we have worked with a designer who has shaped the content based on what each photographer is submitting. We certainly try to allow our colleagues to have an opinion or input into our work. If there’s a body of work, or an individual image which sits outside our frame of reference as documentary photographers, it’s fair to say we would assess whether it would be appropriate to include it. We are very honest with each other, on the other hand, the four current members are all very experienced practitioners who work in their own way. The relationship we have is one of trust and support, which is the best and most productive way to work within acollective.
Themes and Projects
Your work often explores questions of national identity, politics, and place. How do you approach these themes in ways that avoid clichés or stereotypes?
I think if you have a deep knowledge and understanding of the subjects you are approaching, you can avoid falling into traps and tropes and trotting out cliches as visual props in a project. Most of the projects we work on are longer-term and ask both photographer and audience to come on a journey with us. Being Scottish brings with it an awareness of how the outside world views us a people and a society. I don’t think we are susceptible to falling back on communicating a view of our country which is not honest or accurate.
Could you highlight a project that was especially meaningful or challenging, and why?
As we all work on our own projects, that would be a question for us all individually. As a collective, we have faced challenges in terms of funding to deliver our ideas and plans. We have been very fortunate to have secured funding from a few institutions and organisations which have backed our vision, principally Creative Scotland, the University of St. Andrews Library and Street Level Photoworks. We have staged major exhibitions, including shows at the Scottish National Portrait Gallery (The Ties That Bind), Impressions Gallery (Seeing Ourselves), the Martin Parr Foundation (A Contested Land) and the Staatliche Museen, Berlin (Reflections on a Changing Country) over the past decade. Staging these always produced challenges but we have been fortunate to work with people who ‘get’ us and buy into what we are trying to do and say.
Audience and Impact
Who do you consider your primary audience?
The question of audience is always a vexed and interesting one these days, especially as the focus for funders is about growing the reach and scope of the people you interact with. We’d like to think our photography and the projects and events we deliver can cater for potentially any segment of society. During and after the Pandemic, we staged a number of what can be described as socially engaged projects where we worked with communities of people from migrants in the Highlands to young people in Shetland and small island communities on the west coast. These allowed us to document slices of life whilst sharing our skills and knowledge with people who had not had much interaction with professional photographers before.
How do you measure impact: is it about sparking debate, reaching galleries, or something more personal?
That’s a very hard thing to measure, but it does depend on what sort of engagement we are looking for. Our big exhibitions have reached large live audiences, our projects have been more targeted locally but have definitely had a positive impact more locally. Our website, which has long been regarded as an important resource for those interested in photography in Scotland, has a strong and deep reach. We try to support young and emerging photographers by showcasing their work, whilst also focusing on our own projects, both contemporary and historical. We also have a Patreon platform which gives members a more direct line to the four of us and allows patrons access to inclusive content such as previews, reviews and interviews.
On Documentary Photography Today
In your view, what is the state of documentary photography in the UK right now?
I’m not sure that’s something we could answer as a collective, we all have our own perspectives on that, but all agree that it is and should continue to be a powerful form of communication and reflection ofsociety.
How do you see the role of collectives like yours in a world dominated by social media and rapid image consumption?
Each collective has to develop their own narrative way of working. There’s nothing to say artists of any kind cannot work collectively at the pace demanded and designed by the social media age. In the past, Document Scotland has been adept at being mindful of the need to be part of the zeitgeist. Maybe today, we prefer to take a more considered approach to how we work together. Ultimately, it comes down to working at a pace and intensity which suits us all. We are currently undertaking a research and development project looking at establishing connections with institutions and organisations in North America who might like to collaborate with us in a couple of years time to stage events and exhibitions. That’s a world away from the manic 24-hour rolling news. But we know that when the time is right and necessary, we’ll have to ride the social media wave again.
Our work is made not simply for ‘rapid image consumption’, but rather as a document - an historical record - that is to be seen now, but also in years and decades to come. It’s that long view that we think is important in such an ever-changing world.
What advice would you give to younger photographers looking to work in long-form or socially engaged documentary work?
Be patient. Be persistent and above all listen to the people you are photographing. The best projects emerge and that takes time. Each of the four Document Scotland photographers have had, or currently have, long-term projects which they revisit. There’s nothing wrong with taking breaks, creating milestones or developing outcomes which keep the project alive long-term. Funding and finding time are the other major considerations and if you are working alone, seeking the advice of others (not just other photographers) as well as the subjects of your work, will help you gain insights and feedback.
Looking Forward
What future projects or themes are you excited to explore as agroup?
As a collective, it is always interesting to consider whether what you are doing now will resonate with audiences. We work on such diverse themes and our projects are often at such different stages of their development, that there’s not really a collective ‘groupthink’ about what we are doing. Each of us is very dedicated and committed to the work we do. The minute you stop being excited by the work you are making at present or the ideas you have for the future, is the moment you should consider another career. Photography relies on the enthusiasm of not only the practitioner, but the audience to sustain it. Working collectively multiplies that.
How do you imagine Document Scotland contributing to Scotland's cultural and photographic heritage in the years ahead?
We hope we can continue to be part of the creative discourse which exists in Scotland. It’s fair to say that the cultural sector in the country is under a lot of pressure, with reductions in funding and resources hitting artists hard. It's incumbent on everyone to try to find new and imaginative ways to sustain and grow what we are doing and to maintain its relevance to wider Scottish society. Often the best, most authentic and historically important work emerges out of challenging times. Document Scotland will certainly try to play our part in building and supporting photography both now and in the future.
Conclusion
For more than a decade, Document Scotland has been quietly and persistently building an archive of images that reflect the nation in all its diversity. Their work reminds us that documentary photography is about interpreting place, identity, and belonging. As the collective looks to the future, its practice invites us to consider how we see Scotland and how Scotland sees itself.
Canadian photographer Kyle McDougall captures the changing landscape across North America and the UK. After moving to the UK, his work has taken new directions, especially with Slate City, a long-term project in the slate landscape of North Wales.
McDougall works intuitively and focuses on process, guided by patience, curiosity, restless drive, and technical skill. He also runs a popular YouTube channel, where he shares his process and connects with photographers worldwide.
In this conversation with The Decisive Moment, McDougall discusses how projects form, the challenges of sustaining momentum, and the value of pursuing work fuelled by passion.
McDougall’s approach is straightforward. He usually starts with a simple idea, letting it grow into something more personal as he works. Sometimes he’s out in the wind and rain of North Wales with his large-format camera; other times, he’s back in North America, or sharing his passion through videos. Through all these different settings, what is clear is that he values patience, openness, and has a lasting love for photography.
For him, there are no secrets; this openness carries into his creative process. He simply follows his curiosity, convinced that the best work comes from feeling excited enough to keep looking.
See more of Kyle’s work at: www.kylemcdougallphoto.com
DM: When you start a project, do you have a clear vision or does the work reveal itself as you go along?
KM: I like to think I have a clear vision, but then I'm quickly reminded that the work reveals itself as it goes. The overall vision might remain, but the specifics change constantly. For example, with Slate City, it's been three years of working on the project, and there have been numerous iterations. At first, I thought it would be something very literal, only photographing specific things tied to the slate history, now it’s expanded and it’s more about my relationship with a landscape and experiences I have out in these environments.
What I’ve learned from that is it’s important to start with a rough idea, then allow yourself time—maybe one to three years—to create, review, and be open to changing your approach as you make the work.
DM: What are the challenges of sustaining a project over that period?
KM: For me, what I've realised is I’m okay with there being fairly long periods of time when I don't make any work. As an example, at the start of this year, I said to myself, okay this is the year where I make huge progress. My plan was to do trips monthly and just make work, and then two weeks after I came to that decision, I went through a major period where I lacked energy and didn't do anything for three months. But then coming out of that, I was really excited to get back there and had a number of successful trips.
So, I think it's not always going to be fun and it's not always going to be easy and enjoyable but just be patient. There's this Canadian photographer George Webber, he did a book called Prairie Gothic. It's one of my favourite photo books. Under all the images, he lists the name, location and date. There are images from the mid-1980s to the early 2000s, spanning twenty years of work. There's a commitment to a place, and it’s been a great reminder for me that you don’t have to rush things.
DM: Do you work on one project at a time, or have you got several ideas bubbling away?
KM: For me, it’s been important to have multiple things going on. I might work on Slate City, then I might take a couple of months off and focus on something else. As an example, I have a rough project idea focusing on old petrol stations and garages, and another focused on WW2 airfields, and that gives me something to do that's different for a day. That seems to be working.
DM: What drew you to the landscape of Wales?
KM: I find the landscape in Wales to be incredibly beautiful and unique; it's like nothing I've ever seen before. There is this overarching feeling when you're in it, and my goal now has almost become to create my own portrait of the areas that I visit.
DM: As an outsider, do you think about how you're representing those areas?
KM: I've thought about that a lot, and it’s made me lean more towards doing something more personal and experience-based, focused more on my relationship with the broader landscape and the feelings I have while on-location. Sharing my experiences rather than a literal documentation of a place and its history. I think the latter requires a specific type of person and way of working to really be done well.
This has expanded the project boundaries for me, focusing not only on historical features, but also the natural landscape, weather, and a number of other subjects that tie in. I suppose my ultimate goal is to create something which is respectful of the place and showcases my love for these environments and landscapes. I want people to feel something when they look at the images—curiosity, mystery, wonder… things that I often feel.
DM: How do you know when a project is finished?
KM: I think that's something I'm still learning. I didn't start project work until 2017 when I began An American Mile. It took about two years of making that work to realise that it was actually something bigger. I wrapped it up in 2021.
The reason I stopped was partly due to my move to the UK, which made access more difficult. I also had this feeling: okay, I have a lot of work that I'm happy with, and I don't feel as excited anymore. It felt like if I make more, I'm just making the same thing over and over.
But the challenge is, knowing if a lack of enthusiasm and energy means you’re ready to move on, or if you’re just facing the common creative struggles all artists encounter. It can be difficult to tell if a project still has life left in it but just requires a break.
DM: Do you work with others in editing and sequencing?
KM: Yes, for American Mile, working with a publisher friend in Detroit called Subjectively Objective was a huge help. He told me to pick all my selects—even if they were just two or three stars—and send him everything. He chose his favourites, put together an initial sequence and we went from there. Unexpectedly, a lot of his choices were images that I might not have picked, but paired with others, they fitted perfectly.
I think you're missing out on a lot by not having other people involved. It was out of my comfort zone to give my work to someone, but it was so valuable. If I had done it all myself, it wouldn't have been nearly as good.
DM: Do you have an audience in mind when making work?
KM: I don't, mainly because for the last twenty years my career has really just been about an obsession and love for photography. So, all the work I do comes from that urge to create and explore.
There's never any concern for the opinions of others. I remind myself, and tell others, that my best work comes from following my excitement and passion.
DM: There seems to be a tension in your work between beauty and abandonment. Is your work more about your personal expression, or are you contributing to a collective memory of these places?
I photograph intuitively, choosing subjects that attract me visually. Afterward, it can be hard to interpret the meaning or theme behind the images.
So, to answer your question, it's maybe a little bit of both. I'm not photographing the things I am for Slate City with the intention of trying to preserve visual memories of these places in their current state. At the very start, I thought maybe that's the goal, but it's now become a personal expression of how this place feels to me and the things that make it unique.
DM: Does your choice of camera and film shape the mood or meaning of your project?
KM: It does. I get both motivation and enjoyment from trying different gear. I actually started working on Slate City with a digital camera, a GFX, which is an amazing tool. I could have made the project just fine with that, but then I moved to large-format film. In the end, I mixed in some GFX images too.
For me, it's all about the process. When you're out in those environments and it's raining and windy and you're setting up the view camera, there's this process you have to go through. It's a lot more deliberate; it slows you down. Then you go home and develop the film, scan it and it makes each image feel like there was a lot of thought and purpose put into this one. I don't get that feeling with digital.
DM: Are there any photographers or artists who influence your approach or style?
KM: A big one was Stephen Shore's work. For years, I practiced traditional landscape photography. That's what got me into photography—sunrises, sunsets, and dramatic landscapes. It was more about chasing conditions and creating these visually appealing images, but I had a major falling out with that and didn't know what to do.
I was traveling in 2017, and I got back into work with film, and I came across Stephen Shore’s book, Uncommon Places. It's large-format photographs of towns, cities, backroads, and other everyday scenes, often shot at midday, but with an incredible amount of thought and detail put into the compositions. It was a complete one-eighty from what I had focused on in the past. I loved it so much. It made me realise that there's this complete world outside of what I've been doing. That reinvigorated me and sent me on the path I'm on now.
DM: Do you see your move to the UK as permanent, or do you see yourself going back to Canada at some point?
KM: You know what, I love it here. I recently went back to Canada to visit and it
was great. I absolutely love Canada, but I love it here because so much changes. I can drive four hours and be in North Wales, and there are mountains, or I can drive to the coast and there’s a completely different landscape.
Canada on the other hand, you can drive for ten hours and it’s still trees and lakes. It’s beautiful, but a little more difficult to find change.
I believe that living here has influenced my work and also helped me make changes from the work I was doing in the American West. When I got to the UK, I started to discover artists whose work I now love and was inspired to start working with black and white, looking at things completely differently. It's about constantly discovering things, constantly learning and trying to figure it out.
DM: You have a successful YouTube channel. What are the main concerns of your audience?
KM: I don't have a formal education in photography, and at times that can lead to imposter syndrome, so I just try to discuss what I have learned based on my experience. I get a mix of questions. A lot of people are interested in gear and then in contrast to that, oftentimes what people reach out about or what people connect with is the stuff that helps them go and do the work. I often receive emails from people who comment that the videos have motivated them to look at their own area differently or realise what's around them, which I think is really cool.
DM: You are a natural communicator. Have you considered mentoring or conducting workshops?
KM: It's something I've done over the years—a little bit of mentoring and some private workshops. I do really enjoy it. Last year, I had the idea of starting to offer some immersive small group workshops in North Wales, but it's just a matter of finding the time with my other commitments.
DM: How do you see documentary photography evolving? Is there anything that excites or concerns you?
KM: I think it can be such a broad term and everyone's approach to it looks very different; it can be a very literal thing or it can be very abstract. Personally, what excites me moving forward is that there are so many different ways that you can approach documentary photography. It provides you with this opportunity to keep finding excitement and energy.
The Documentary Group Online
The documentary group has a presence on the following platforms, come and join in the conversation. We understand that not everyone has a social media profile or wants to create one. That’s why all our profiles are public and can be viewed by everyone, no matter whether you have an account or not. This means you will be able to view all our posts and book on to ticketed events. Checking our RPS page and searching for events is still a good way to keep informed with all that is happening in the Documentary group. If you have any questions you can always e-mail us – all our contact details are listed there.
Facebook
Facebook Page - facebook.com/rpsdocumentary
Our public Facebook page highlights projects and events related to Documentary photography.
Facebook Group - facebook.com/groups/RPSDVJ
We also have a closed group Facebook page, exclusively for our members. If you want to join us there, you can share your pictures with us, ask for advice, and engage with our online community.
Instagram @rpsdoc
Instagram is an image-based social media platform, so think of our profile as of an online gallery. If you follow us there, you can see pictures from our competition winners, DM contributors and members along with invitations to events and images from these occasions. Instagram is the place where we want to promote the work of our group and our members to the wider public and encourage them to follow and engage with our projects.
Flickr
Royal Photographic Society - Documentary Group
Documentary Group members run an active group on Flickr with plenty of images and the opportunity to discuss them with the group.
rps.org/documentary
X
@rpsdoc
Our X/Twitter page is for short important updates such as events, exhibitions, call for entries or other announcements. If you do not have much time for scrolling on social media but still want to be in on the action, we recommend you to follow us there. We promise we’ll be short and concise.
Issuu
Issuu.com
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Documentary Group, Royal Photographic Society
The Decisive Moment is published on the Issuu platform where you can read each edition online or download pdfs to read offline. Please follow the Documentary Group in Issuu and use the buttons to like and share your favourite editions or individual features - it really helps support the Documentary Group.
Website
rps.org/documentary
The Documentary Special Interest Group has a section on The Royal Photographic Society website. Here you can learn more about the group, hear about recent news and future events and access an increasing number of documentary photography resources.
Documentary is about developing a narrative or story using images. Our Documentary Group members have a common interest in documentary, urban and street, photography. The group offers a lively events programme, a regular e-journal and the opportunity to participate in other photographic initiatives.
Documentary photography communicates a clear narrative through visual literacy. It can be applied to social, cultural, historical and political events.
Documentary photographers’ work always has an intent; whether that is to represent daily life, explore a specific subject, deepen our thinking, or influence our opinions. rps.org/documentary
Members form a dynamic and diverse group of photographers globally who share a common interest in documentary and street photography.
We welcome photographers of all skill levels and offer members a diverse programme of workshops, photoshoots, longer-term projects, exhibitions, an online journal and newsletter and the RPS Documentary Photography Award (DPA).
Some longer-term collaborative projects are in the pipeline for the future. We have a active membership who participate in regional meetings, regular competitions and exchange ideas online through our social media groups.
The Documentary Group is always keen to expand its activities and relies on ideas and volunteer input from its members.
If you’re not a member come and join us. Find us on the RPS website at: rps.org/documentary
