Martin Reeves
Raised in Brighton on England’s Channel coast, Martin Reeves created for himself a unique photographic career, one in which he combined a subject and a process both of which hold for him an aura of magic — pre-modern Asia and black-and-white infrared film. Stimulated by a Polaroid camera that he received at the age of seven, succeeded by a succession of hand-me-down cameras, Reeves pursued photography in his own way. Lasting just one day at Eastbourne Art College, he left “when I saw a teacher tear up a student’s painting in front of the class and stamp on it saying it was rubbish. I remember thinking, ‘Who are you to decide what is good and what is bad art? I thought art was about personal expression?’” His Asian travels began in 1986 with India, with infrared the medium with which he chose to explore sacred sites there and in Thailand, Burma, Cambodia, Laos and Vietnam. Reeves’ distinctive work is widely published internationally, including in ZOOM magazine, and in his book Angkor: Into the Hidden Realm. He also makes short documentary films.
Martin Reeves
Pallivion Entrance - Brighton
MF: You’re particularly well known for your work with infrared film, and obviously that’s one thing I want to look at in some detail here (though not exclusively). How did that begin?
MR: I was very much taken by the Irish band U2’s album cover The Unforgettable Fire back in 1984 and asked my local photo shop in Brighton for some film ‘that did this’! I then began to experiment with infrared black-and-white film at ancient English heritage sites such a Stonehenge and the stone circles of Dartmoor. Also, I found that portraits taken with this film rendered skin tones with a beautiful soft glow. Growing up in Brighton influenced my decision to travel to India – the Indian-styled Royal Pavilion’s architecture was so surreal compared to traditional English architecture and my then girlfriend and later life-long friend Shephali (who’s parents were Indian) opened up my mind to the mystical East. I was keen to see how this film would portray India and after developing the photos from my first trip in 1986, I knew that I had found a way to express this mysticism – and that I would return.
Farley
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Shephali at the Taj Mahal
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Bull at Pagan - Burma
MF: There’s an element of uncertainty and unpredictability to using infrared, isn’t there? Does that make it sort of more ‘alchemical’ for you?
MR: My first experiments were very much trial and error – (in 1984 there was no internet to ask questions with!) Even the ‘ritual’ of loading/unloading the film inside a lightproof bag took getting used to. But after a few rolls I worked out how to make an average amount of mid-grey exposures (using a hand-held light meter) and when something looked special in the viewfinder then I bracketed half a stop either way. As for developing and printing, well back then I left that to the local photo shop. After I moved permanently to Asia, I started developing film myself. I’ve never had a darkroom — I just tip the double bed up against the window in the bedroom, load the films onto the spools inside my lightproof changing bag and then tip chemicals all over the dev tank (and the floor) by the light of a very dimmed torch. I have always done it this way. I’m not even sure if the developing tank is in fact infrared lightproof and so the darkened room is unnecessary . . . but there is something magical about the atmosphere doing it this way. The silver halide, the glass beakers, the hanging films rustling in the breeze from the fan. — and with the right music, yes, I guess the word alchemy comes to mind. The chemical puddles that get walked in to and from the bathroom annoy my wife, though.
Prem Giri & His Favourite Tree - India
MF: We met on the 55-photographer Thailand shoot the year before last (9 Days in the Kingdom), and indeed Thailand is something we share. I spent many years photographing there, particularly in the 1980s, and you live there. What drew you, and what keeps you there?
MR: On my second trip to India in 1988, I flew with Air India. And for the same price as a return to Bombay (Mumbai) I could travel on to Bangkok. From Bangkok I travelled to the ancient city of Sukhothai and the hill tribes in the north. I then flew to Rangoon in Burma. Bangkok became my base when I travelled in Asia. It was very central, cheap to live, a Thai visa was on entry, the food was amazing and I could buy most western favourites like Marmite in the supermarket! Bangkok also seems to attract a very interesting group of ex-pats and over the years I have made many long-lasting friendships. I married my lovely wife Pat in 2003 and we have a 6-year old son now – so I have no plans to move!
Akha Grandmother & Pig - Laos
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Black Hmong Brother - North Vietnam
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Akha Lady Walking Home - Laos
MF: Most of what I’ve seen written about infrared is pretty simplistic, and doesn’t get further than the ‘leaves-like-snow’ approach. You’ve taken it much further. What appealed to me about your work when I first saw it was that you seemed to be shooting almost in a new medium, and creating a varied body of images that all hung together somehow. There’s more than a whiff of ‘cute new trick’ to much infrared photography, but you’ve stepped around that. Was that a gradual process of exploration, or did you begin with an already-formed view of how your work would look?
MR: When I first used infrared black-and-white film, I shot with a deep red filter – the one that is almost opaque. I didn’t get on with this as I couldn’t see a thing… so changed to a ‘red 25’ filter. This was perfect for me as I could see what I was shooting. In fact I liked the look of seeing everything in red and white – kind of simplifying the image to monotone and taking away the distraction of the colours. More importantly for me though, was that it made the infrared photos subtler. I wasn’t a big fan of the full-blown infrared effect, but the ‘red 25’ filter added just about the right amount of strangeness.
Kaughmudaw Pagoda - Sagaing - Burma
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Halong Bay - Vietnam
After my 3rd Asian trip in 1990 I sneaked into a National Union of Journalists seminar in London with my Asian portfolio. At the lunch break I made a beeline for Eamonn McCabe, the picture editor and photographer of the Guardian Newspaper (who was giving a lecture that afternoon) and asked him if he wouldn’t mind looking through a few photos. Surprisingly he did, and asked if he could see more. He spent over 30-minutes of his lunch break looking through my photos and told me that he would be proud to have a portfolio like this. He said that although they were quite random – some of Indian guru’s and others of Thai and Burmese temples and a few hill tribe portraits, the infrared medium seemed to unify them. I left the seminar and skipped for joy through the streets of London. I now had a credible person confirm what I hoped to be true, and a reason to delve deeper and deeper into my project!
Thatbyinnu Pagoda - Pagan - Burma
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Blue Hmong Sisters - North Vietnam
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Pak Ou Caves - Luang Prabang - Laos
MF: Have you exhausted infrared photography yet? Or has it exhausted you?
MR: I have always tried to separate my photography from earning a living, as I never wanted to take photos of things I didn’t want to shoot and get bored with it. Besides, the occasional job I did as a ‘photographer’ always seemed to end in disaster! For the first ten years of taking photos in Asia, I worked as a builder in London. It was one of those jobs where you could work for 8-months saving up as much as possible, then go off the radar for the next four. When I finally move to Asia in 1996, I worked for a Bangkok-based company called Art Asia, and was then sent off all over the Asian region to take photographs of indigenous hill tribe people. A perfect job, as I could also take my own infrared photos while I was there. In 1999 I showed my photo portfolio to a friend who worked at Discovery Channel Asia in Singapore and somehow I landed a job to film 10 short 20-second promos on 16mm movie film, using an old clockwork Bolex. It was basically the same as using my old Nikon and separate light meter, except that the shutter speed is fixed at a sixtieth of a second. I was sent back up to the hill tribes of northwest Vietnam and locations around Thailand – and again, I had the chance to take my own infrared photos.
I feel lucky though to have experienced a time where the mysticism of Asia was still very much alive, and that I was able to capture this atmosphere on a film that was so suited to the subject matter. Places like Angkor have changed beyond recognition – the jungle has been conquered and its mystery now diluted. I still love taking trips in Asia whenever I have the chance, although I am now down to my last 200 rolls of infrared film.
Angkor, Into The Hidden Realm
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Alien Tree at Angkor
MF: I couldn’t agree with you more about Angkor, When I first went in 1989 I really did have the place to myself, and now there are what… over two million visitors a year? But for me, your photographs of Angkor actually re-imbued it with mystery. In a way, the strangeness, as you just put it, of infrared gave something back to the temple ruins that tourist development had taken away. But on the theme of things coming to an end, what about infrared film stock? I guess they’re not making any more, are they? Does that matter now that you can have a digital camera converted to infrared?
MR: I borrowed my friend’s Leica M8 and had a play around with a deep red filter. The digital effect lacked the subtlety of infrared film with a red 25 filter. Also there was no grain, which is part of the look that I love about the Kodak HIE. And because infrared film has no anti-halation layer, there’s a distinctive glow on the highlights that the digital version doesn’t have. Three years ago I was tempted to buy a digital camera and convert it to infrared, but chose to buy up all the infrared film stock I could find instead. Apart from that I prefer the look of the film, there is something about being able to physically hold a negative strip up to the light. I do scan negs nowadays though – I have a Minolta 35mm scanner and an HP Z3100 printer. A scan from a 35mm negative can make a striking print 3 or 4-foot long/high.
Road to Mandalay - Burma
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Thatbyinnu Pagoda - Pagan - Burma
MF: What now? What next?
MR: I recently returned from Burma — but was disappointed at the amount of restoration that had been done (using cement!) on the once beautiful old temples.
Right now I’m working with Pat for History Channel Asia, making a few short films — next month we’ll shoot at the Plain of Jars in Laos. I will of course take my old F2 and a few rolls of i.r. film!
After my infrared black-and-white film is all used up, I plan to concentrate on searching through all my negatives and filing them in some sort of order. At the moment they are all over the place! I think this will take me months to do — but I need to do this before I can move on.
I’ve been invited to present my 24-year project as an ‘unpublished’ book idea at the FotoGrafia Festival in Rome in Sept/Oct this year. I would love to be able to exhibit my personal project in a touring show too, in Europe and America — to perhaps accompany a published book (if any publishers bite at Rome!). ZOOM magazine have confirmed an exhibition for me at Wave Photo Gallery in Brescia, Italy in March next year so that’s a start!
Pagoda at Pegu - Burma
MF: It sounds almost as if you find it fitting that one cycle of work comes to an end. But for future shooting assignments, do you think you will abandon infrared (meaning not bother with digital infrared)? And if so, what medium will you move to?
MR: With the help of a good friend, I’ve been introduced to a 5×4 camera and with it, a special new film to continue my long-term project. So as soon as I am ready I will start afresh, this time going further afield. There are some fascinating African tribes and old monuments in South America that I would really like to photograph . . . also sites in Turkey and the Middle East.
