The reason is simple.

I didn’t enter.

Instead, I was asked to participate in the final judging as a stand-in judge. A real honour.

It was a terrific experience and gave me a real insight into the judging process.

You can read about it here: Judging the 2012 IPPA National Photographic Awards.

Two weeks ago, my family and I were involved in a car collision. Nobody was hurt. Our car fared less well. It came off by far the worst of the three involved in the incident. Instinctively, I knew it was a write-off even as I unbuckled my seat belt moments after the impact.

Depending on how I choose to look at it, the collision was the climax of a tough spell in my life, or the start of a pretty good one. In the hours immediately afterwards, my judgment was clouded and I felt horribly depressed about life in general. With the benefit of two weeks’ hindsight, I have a clearer perspective.

While losing the family car wasn’t pleasant, it has been replaced by a better one.

Imagine, though, if one of the six lives involved had been lost. From that point of view, some crumpled metal work is an irrelevance so minor it is virtually cause for celebration.

Besides, since the collision, wonderful things have happened.

- An iPhone that I lost months ago was returned to me out of the blue.

- A Dublin-based advertising agency asked me to spend two days taking documentary photographs on behalf of TESCO.

- A marketing agency asked me to photograph an artisan cheese maker.

- Two of my photographs were given merits at the judging of this year’s Master Photographer Association (MPA) awards, which means I’m a finalist in two international categories.

- A meeting with a high-end food producer to discuss a small shoot turned into a conversation about a much bigger commission.

- A couple asked me to photograph their multi-day wedding celebration in Lapland in November.

This day two weeks ago, my outlook was bleak. Today, it is much brighter. The thing is, all of these great things would have happened regardless of the collision. In other words, my future in the darkest moments after the incident was quite bright, although unknown to me. Just goes to show, you never know what’s round the corner. Be it a BMW stopped dead in the middle of the road, or series of dream assignments. Life is odd.

This is the best portrait photograph ever taken of me - (c) Anne O'Leary 2011

Saturday was quite a day.

Somebody told me I “sucked”. Someone else called me something even worse when I forgot to press the record button on the sound recorder during a video shoot.

To be fair, I think the first was in jest and the second insult came from Peter Cox, so it was as good as a compliment. Besides, lots of people said really nice things about me on Saturday as well – many of whom I’ve never met, so that makes their words even kinder and I’d like to say a few thank yous.

Firstly, thank you to everyone who booked in for one of my IPPA Happy Faces portrait sessions at The Ambassador Hotel in Cork on Saturday in aid of the Cystic Fibrosis Association of Ireland (CFAI). You were so fabulous to take time out of your weekend and come along. There were 13 portraits taken in all, with all the donations going to the IPPA Happy Faces fund to help the CFAI. Thank you.

Thank you to Anne, who was at my side to help out at the Happy Faces shoot, and to The Ambassador for the gift of the room.

The next round of thanks goes to Peter Cox’s wife, who graciously allowed Neil McShane and me to disrupt half her house for a video shoot. She also cooked for us. And did I mention she’s looking after a baby as well? Not only that, she has a newborn to care for too. (The eagle-eyed among you will have just noticed the subtle revenge taken on Peter for his earlier name calling*).

I’ll have more about the video shoot soon. For the moment, I’ll just say that despite the ridiculous 03.50AM start on Sunday morning (or is that still Saturday night?), it was fabulous to work with Peter and Neil. Even if they did develop the habit of referring to themselves as “the talent” and insisted on traveling in a separate vehicle from the crew. Mind you, the camera man, sound engineer, focus puller and microphone operator (and likely the video editor) all won a national award on Saturday evening while the “talent” didn’t, so we were happy in our own company. Besides, you should have heard what the crew said about the “talent” behind their backs. I tell you, our sound engineer knows some phrases that would make sailors want to wash out their ears with holy water.

What award did the crew win?

Best Photo Blog at the 2011 Irish Blog Awards.

Which brings me to my final round of thanks.

Thank you to the person who nominated the blog in this category. You still haven’t come forward (which I actually think is a sign of integrity and character), but I’d like you to know that I am very grateful to you.

Thank you to the people who gave of their time to read and judge the blog.

Special note here is due to Damien Mulley and his team for organizing the awards for the last six years.

And finally, thank you to everyone who sent such wonderful tweets and messages on the night and during Sunday. My apologies for not being able to respond properly. I hope you’ll forgive me as I was in the wilds of southwest Ireland babysitting “talent”**.

* I just called Peter Cox a baby.

** I just called Peter a baby again, and Neil too for good measure. (Never mess with the crew).

Thing is, she nominated the blog In the Business Blog category. We thought we’d apply some lateral thinking in light of the direction the business is going in. That didn’t work. It was sifted out early on in the game.

So whoever it was who nominated the blog in the Photo Blog category, we’re very grateful. It made the final five.

Unfortunately, on the day of the awards ceremony in Belfast, I’ll be hosting my IPPA Happy Faces event here in Cork at The Ambassador Hotel. More about that tomorrow.

In the meantime, it’s really nice to get recognition for the blog.

That said, I am about to embark on a truly long-term project – one that I envisage will only end when I do.

I am the product of three countries. My motherland: the Netherlands; my fatherland: England; and my homeland: Ireland. I have odd relationships with all three. It’s these relationships I’m going to explore through documentary photography.

Like all good projects, it has a name. “Motherland, Fatherland, Homeland”.

Without realizing it, the project started in August last year when I took some snaps at a local agricultural museum in Holland. I was intrigued by the light and how reminiscent it was of the light in the paintings by the Dutch Masters of the 17th century. I felt a connection.

Four of those photographs, which could be called holiday snaps, became my entry for the 2011 IPPA National Photographic Awards pictorial/travel portfolio category. I won the same category last year (also, ironically, with four photographs taken on holiday), and wanted to defend the title so to speak. It was a successful defense.

(c) Roger Overall 2010

(c) Roger Overall 2010

(c) Roger Overall 2010

(c) Roger Overall 2010

Yet, I know I don’t do this on my own.

I’d like to mention three groups of people who help photographers make their dreams reality.

Firstly, our clients. If nobody commissioned photographers to shoot for them, our careers would be very short.

Secondly, those photographers who reach out to their colleagues to help and guide them. This support comes in many guises. A kind critique from a friend, encouragement at a judging, advice from a rival, insights from established photographers, or the steadying hand of a mentor.

Thirdly, and most importantly, those who often sacrifice their own ambitions to help us achieve ours. Our spouses, life partners, call them what you will. Several established photographers have confided in me that they have often been kept going in dark times by the indomitable spirit of their better halves. Certainly, this is true for me. I’m fairly fragile. Fortunately, I have quite a shield to shelter me when life starts throwing the rough stuff. My wife, Anne, is spectacular and unwavering in her support. She gets me to where I want to go, regardless of the challenges.

She is my keystone.

Photograph from the Best Reportage Wedding Portfolio, 2011 IPPA National Photographic Awards - (c) Roger Overall 2010

Photograph from the Best Reportage Wedding Portfolio, 2011 IPPA National Photographic Awards - (c) Roger Overall 2011

Photograph from the Best Reportage Wedding Portfolio, 2011 IPPA National Photographic Awards - (c) Roger Overall 2011

Photograph from the Best Reportage Wedding Portfolio, 2011 IPPA National Photographic Awards - (c) Roger Overall 2010

She made one for me.

Sometimes, I have to pinch myself to make sure I’m not just dreaming that she’s my daughter. She enriches my life every day and she makes me understand what really matters.

Why do I say that?

Well, this is awards weekend – not just in Hollywood. On Sunday, I’ll be at the IPPA National Photographic Awards 2011 dinner. I have a chance of receiving five awards. I would be delighted with one, but I have to face up to the fact that I could leave empty-handed.

Three years ago, that wouldn’t have really mattered to me. I didn’t know what it was like to win an award, so not winning one wouldn’t have hurt at all.

Since then, things have changed. I’ve won at least one award at the last four ceremonies I’ve attended. The first was a shock. The second an even bigger one. The third slightly less so. The fourth a paralyzing surprise.

Notwithstanding my slack-jawed reactions on previous occasions, I’m now in a situation where I no longer consider myself outside the running for any of the categories on Sunday night. And to be honest, I don’t know what is worse: not standing a chance, or agonizing for months in advance (the judging took place in December) about whether or not I’m going to win.

I think any photographer who says they don’t crave or value the recognition bestowed by other photographers is kidding themselves. As artists we need validation. We are shallow. We’re like magpies entranced by the glitter of an award. We. Want. It.

Last year, my work failed horribly in the European Photographer of the Year competition, having done quite well the year before. The day the results were published was a thoroughly miserable one for me. I kept going back to the website of the Federation of European Photographers to see whether some heinous coding error had corrected itself so that my work appeared in its rightful spot. Nada. I felt utterly, totally useless as a photographer. You need to understand that awards won in the past offer zero consolation in the event of a loss in the present. That’s the rule.

After an hour of brooding at my desk, my little girl knocked on my office door and slipped a piece of A4 paper in. It was covered in green squiggles. I still have it. I called her in to ask what it was. “Best Daddy of the Year Award,” she replied.

She is medicine to my soul.

(c) Roger Overall 2011

I’m a people photographer. More specifically, documentary people photographer. I have ambitions of becoming a significant documentary people photographer – I may as well admit it. To achieve that I’ll need to grow my photographic muscles at a tremendous rate. I have so much to learn.

There are two areas in particular that I need to concentrate on. The behaviour of humans and the behavior of a light. The right combination of those two creates spellbinding photographs.

Understanding light is a two-parter. Firstly, you need to understand how it behaves in the real world. Then you need to understand how it interacts with your recording medium, be it film or a digital sensor. Importantly, your eyes are better than either digital and film at resolving highlight and shadow detail at the same time, so how the scene records on your camera is fundamentally different from what you see.

While I was in the Netherlands over the summer, I spent an afternoon observing light at the open air museum at Erve Kots, which consists of old farm buildings and tools. They also run a fabulous pancake restaurant, but that’s neither here nor there – unless you like pancakes.

The way the summer sunshine shone into the sheds and farm houses was enthralling.

I must have been a sight: transfixed as sunbeams seeped in through holes and cracks creating ever-changing patches of light. (It doesn’t take much to entertain me. Shiny objects, flickering lights).

I went back the next day to take some photographs. One scene in particular had caught my eye. A display of clog making. The ambient lighting was quite dim, and parts of the scene were bathed in light pouring in through gaps in the walls and roof. It took a ton of patience (something I don’t even possess in small measures) to wait for the sunbeams to highlight the key areas of the shot.

When they eventually did, I knew I had something special.

Depending on how good your screen is and how well calibrated it is, you will either see the delicate detail in the shadows or not. I hope you do. (c) Roger Overall 2010

I like this image. In fact, I love it. And not a human being in sight. There is story in the image, along with light, texture and depth – which, depending on your screen you may or may not be able to see.

There is something else about that appeals to me.

It’s Dutchness.

And I’m not referring to the clogs.

I’m talking about the quality of the light. Looking at the frame on the back of my camera I was actually moved by how the light echoed that you find in the paintings of the Dutch masters. So I went in search of more. And found it.

I’m not a master (like I say, I’d like to be one day, but there’s a way to go yet), but I can’t tell you how exciting it was to see how the images that appeared on the back of my camera seemed to reach back centuries to Vermeer, Rembrandt, Hals, Steen and others, and in particular Gillig, Claesz, Davidszoon de Heem and Claeszoon Heda. It was as if they were standing next to me – as if I belonged with them, even if it was only in my imagination.

Time is a terrible thing. It separates us from those we would most dearly like to talk to. We’ll never be able to ask Vermeer about light. Fortunately, he can teach us through his work, as can his compatriots.

And we can learn through observing.

The series of photographs I produced at Erve Kots owes much to the artistic history of my Dutch half. It was good to connect with it.

(c) Roger Overall 2010

I don't think that's a mouse hole. At least if it is, I'd rather not meet the mouse. (c) Roger Overall 2010

(c) Roger Overall 2010

The four images you see here were entered into the fourth judging heat for the 2011 IPPA National Photographic Awards, earning three golds and a diamond – the highest grade the association can give.

That wouldn’t make for a very interesting post, though – even if I were to add that the Hilton Metropole at the NEC in Birmingham charged me £114 for two 15-minute, inter-EU phone calls. They haven’t heard the last of that, I can tell you.

Instead, here’s the story of the photograph that won.

It was taken in Austin, Texas, last year – the day after I heard Elliott Erwitt speak. We were wandering through a street market when Emily, my daughter, asked for some money so that she could buy a dance from a busker. She hasn’t quite grasped how that works. Still, we gave her a dollar and off she went. From the busker’s point of view, she was the best marketing he got all day, as quite a few people came up to drop money into his violin case for the little dancing girl.

This is the photograph as it came out of the camera:

(c) Roger Overall 2009

The first decision I made was to convert it to black and white. I was initially reluctant to do so because of the sign above the bar in the background. The colour of Emily’s dress just works so well together with the sign. If the girl in the centre of the frame hadn’t been wearing a red shirt, I would likely have gone with colour. However, as it is, she is already in the dominant part of the frame. The red shirt just emphasizes that. It’s the first thing your eye goes to when you seen the photograph. You bypass the story in favour of the flash of colour.

The converted version of the image allows you to read the photograph from left to right, which means you get the whole narrative more easily.

Also, in the b/w version, Emily stands out better for two reasons. She is in a compositionally strong spot (where two lines dividing the photograph into horizontal and vertical thirds meet) and she is lighter than her immediate background.

Once converted to b/w, I corrected the lines by straightening everything out. I’m not great on slanted verticals and horizontals, so I try to get everything more or less straight. You have to be a little careful, as straightening can introduce distortions elsewhere in the picture. I also pulled back some detail in the bright wall in the background. Lastly, I would have added a hint of vignetting.

The end result was this:

(c) Roger Overall 2009

For the gearheads out there, it was taken on a Canon 5D Mrk 2 and a Canon 24 f/1.4 lens.

Lastly, we had a camera lady on hand to film the whole thing. She almost missed it, mind you. Apparently, she was looking at something shiny on one of the market stalls.

I’ll tell you this: I didn’t enjoy the process one bit. Mostly because doubts about my ability have been creeping into my mind lately.

The reason for this is easy to pinpoint. I’ve been scoring abysmally in the preliminary judgings for this year’s National Photographic Awards. Just when I think I’m producing my best work ever, it’s not doing well in competition. In fact, it’s getting hammered. That rocks the confidence a bit. We’re a bit temperamental that way, photographers.

I’m happy to say that my confidence is up again. The panel passed and my IPPA Associateship has been confirmed. And thanks to the IPPA’s reciprocal arrangement with the Master Photographers Association, the MPA will grant me similar status.

Before we (well, I) get too carried away, this is only the second rung on the ladder. Ahead await trials for the Qualified European Photographer (QEP), Fellowship, and Master QEP qualifications. That will take at least two years, more likely three, possibly four.

In the meantime, though, the Licentiate-plates are off my cameras. And as an Associate I can put myself forward as a judge during the preliminary rounds of the national competition. Now we’ll see if my entries don’t score better.

Click on the image below to see a selection of images from the panel that passed.

(c) Roger Overall