So, I’ve been looking at Russell Spencer’s photography lately. You might have seen his stuff – lots of quiet, atmospheric shots, often landscapes or architecture. Really makes you stop and look, you know?
I got this idea in my head. Maybe get a print for the living room. Or, at the very least, try to figure out how he gets that specific feel. My own photos? Let’s just say they usually have more of a “what was I thinking?” vibe.
First stop, the internet. Standard procedure. Found his official website, some galleries featuring his work. And yeah, the photos are stunning. Very clean, very minimal. Deceptively simple, I’d say.
Then came the “getting a print” part.
I figured it’d be easy. See a picture, click a button, enter credit card details. Boom. Art on its way. Well, not exactly. It was more of the “enquire for pricing” and “contact gallery for details” sort of situation. Suddenly, it felt less like buying a print and more like applying for a loan. A bit formal for my taste, if I’m honest.
It reminded me of this time I tried to commission a small painting from a local artist I admired. Walked into their studio during an open day, and the whole exchange felt like I was interrupting something deeply important. I just wanted a picture, not to join a secret society.
Okay, plan B. If getting a print was going to be an ordeal, maybe I could just try to learn from his style. For my own hobby, you know? Just for fun. So I started looking closer at his compositions. The use of light, the empty spaces, the mood. It’s all incredibly deliberate. You can tell a lot of thought goes into each shot.
And that’s when it hit me. This “simple” look? It’s anything but simple to achieve. It’s like watching a pro athlete do something. They make it look effortless, but you know there are years of work behind it.
Why am I even going on about this?
Well, it got me thinking. About how we see things online, especially creative stuff. It all looks so polished, so accessible. But then you try to engage with it on a deeper level – whether it’s buying something, or trying to learn a skill – and you hit these little walls. Or you realize the depth of work involved that just wasn’t apparent on the surface.
It’s a bit like when I decided to bake sourdough bread during that phase everyone went through. Saw all these perfect loaves online. Looked easy enough. My first few attempts? Let’s just say they could have been used as doorstops. Heavy, dense, and a bit sad.
So, with Russell Spencer’s work, I still think it’s fantastic. Really top-notch. But my little journey trying to get a piece of it, or even just understand it better, was a good reminder. A reminder that there’s usually more to the story than what you see on the screen. And sometimes, appreciating something from a slight distance is perfectly fine. Maybe I’ll just stick to admiring his photos online. It’s definitely easier on the wallet and requires less paperwork.
And who knows, maybe one day my cat photos will accidentally achieve that minimalist vibe. Probably not, but a man can dream.
