Done with Glen Dun

When you come, bring waterproofs.  Any time of year, but especially in the summer.

I reckon that landscape hasn't changed much in a few hundred, or maybe thousand years (well, apart from the road there, obviously).  There's something reassuring about that, to my eyes anyway.

Ballypatrick Forest

Depending on how you get to the Glens of Antrim you might pass Ballypatrick Forest - no need to explain the derivation of that name, now, is there?

I'm not mad keen on the forests around these parts, 'cos mostly they are planted with various types of non-indigenous firs.  But on this occasion we did stop for a while, have a picnic and let the Hound stretch his legs.

We had a wee dander up the trail, as one does...

It was quite nice in places, I have to admit...

...although it did go up and down a lot.

Go Buddy Go

Today's Bandfriday we have my favourite band of the '70s...The Stranglers.  More punk rock than punk and for a few years they had a string of hits, including Go Buddy Go, No More Heroes, the iconic Peaches and later the more melodic Golden Brown.

The first proper band I saw live, at what was then the New University of Ulster.  Thanks to The Brother for this set of snaps...and as usual he was on top form.

Jean-Jacques Burnel on Bass

JJB was my man - ultra cool, black-belt (7th dan) in Karate, keen on Triumph motorcycles...what wasn't to like?  Combined with a unique bass sound, due to doing something a bit special with his Fender guitar, strings and ripping the speaker cones in his amplifiers to create a distorted sound.   And to cap it all, he even dated Kate Bush for a while.  Kate Bush!! I loved it all.

Hugh Cornwall was the lead guitarist and sang lead on most tracks.

Hugh Cornwall

Nice to see Hugh and his guitar dressing up for the occasion...

The stage, 1977

Clearly it was all too much for the guy on the right, who looks like he's about to pass out...

A couple of years later they came to Portrush.  The support act was The Undertones and this was one of the rare occasions I didn't carry a camera with me, probably since I was too excited about the Whole Thing.  Fortunately The Brother did bring one, and being well-connected, he got back stage.  I mean, The Stranglers were my band, not his.  It just wasn't fair!

Dark, smoldering looks of JJB

I like the iron on the side table - I mean, that was necessary for The Stranglers, right?  At least JJB was studying the set list on his knee - Hugh clearly brought his gf along for company and was watching TV:

Dave Greenfield, the nimble-fingered keyboard player, was keeping his vocal chords lubricated just in case, with a tin of what is probably the best lager in the world...

If you look closely (and it helps if you rotate your monitor), you can make out the words on the brown paper package behind...Alan Simpson (our resident DJ/MC), Portrush Arcadia and then 'Stranglers')...probably containing a long list of 'must-haves' for the group, like an iron.

Jet Black (Ed: seriously?), the senior member of the group and the drummer, was just chillin'...

Here's Dave Greenfield on stage - set list clearly visible stuck to his mixing deck:

Unfortunately the list is difficult to make out, but I can just about make out that they finished with 'Grip' (Get a grip on yourself), Straighten (Out), Buddy (Go Buddy Go) and Ringer (Dead Ringer).

I remember that night clearly.  I was, as usual, near the front, soaking it all up while The Brother stayed in the wings - which turned out to be a Good Move.  JJB had, as usual, taken his shirt off:

Some guy in the crowd continued to spit at them, which had been the norm for hard-core punk outfits but Hugh had already told him off more than once.  Next thing, JJB threw off his guitar and launched himself at the serial offender - who at the time was a little closer to me than I would have liked.  A short tussle ensued.  Chaos for a minute or two.  I got a blow to the head - nothing serious.  Then the offender was escorted off and the band got back on stage and continued as if nothing had happened.  What a band!  What a night!  And of course now JJB was elevated to a deity in the eyes of a certain 15 year-old...

Head space

If ever you need some head space, come to the Antrim Hills.  That used to be the stock phrase of Mother's, when it all got too much for her - 'I'm away to the hills', she would say.  Never went, of course, it was just her way of dealing with the stress of having to look after so many men in her life.

It's a grand spot, though, isn't it?  Just a few sheep around, grazing contentedly on the gentle slopes of Glen Dun.  At least I think it's sheep, half-way up the hill there - but it could just be dust on the negs (again).

Glen Dun

There are 9 Glens of Antrim - this is Glen Dun (Gleann Abhann Duinne, or Glen of the Brown River - presumably due to the colour of the water from the peat bogs).

Yes, I know, it's a rubbish print.  Well, the sky isn't too bad, but Glen Dun is too dark.  I should have done a test strip first, but sometimes you just feel like getting on with it.

I re-did it, keeping the Devere light on for a little bit longer (for the sky) and at the same time ('cos I'm clever like that) dodging Glen Dun.

OK so the dodging bit was pretty rubbish - I didn't say I was any good at it, did I?  Anyway, now the sky is over-cooked.  And Glen Dun is washed out and horrible-looking.  So I reduced the time a little and dodged a little less.

I'm happier with the sky now, although I think the land could do with a bit more life about it.  In my defence the print is better looking than this scan - but you'll have to take my word for that.  Grade 4 on Kentmere VC.  I might come back to it another time.

Anyway, that little stream you can just about make out there on the right has a special significance in our family.  We used to come up here when we was little, you see.  Mostly on a Sunday I seem to recall.  And in those days jumping over that barbed wire fence you see there was not a problem.  So that's what we would do, and then clamber down that slope to the little river and see if there were any fish, or maybe catch sight of a dipper (a rare occurrence).

Here's a snap of the men of the family in that very spot, down at the water.  All dressed up (well it was Sunday).  That's The Brother there, by the way, and our grandfather in front, with our dad in his blazer and tie (dressed for Church, not the Antrim Hills) at the back.  Taken around 1971, I would say.  I'm guessing I was behind the camera, but can't really remember...

It must have been a very dry summer that year, since there's hardly any water in the bubbling brook.  In the winter time it's a raging torrent, but you'll have to take my word for that too.

Take to the hills

The Antrim hills, to be precise.  Also known as the Glens of Antrim and a pretty fantastic place to find yourself in at any time of the year.

They still cut turf up on the hills - not exactly 'politically correct' these days but families have their own sections of bog and continue to do what their fathers and grandfathers did before them.  I don't have too much of a problem with turf-cutting by hand for personal use, which is what is practiced around these parts.  I have more of an issue when they do it commercially, with large mechanical diggers which rip the thousand+ year old bogs to shreds in no time at all.

But we'll forgive this little old tractor and its bags of turf, which was resting somewhere up Glen Dun.

A turf tractor up on the Glens of Antrim, 2015

A lovely red colour it was, although the colour doesn't come out too well on HP5.  Ah well - you can't win 'em all.

This last snap was a wee bit of fun.  Taken on the Franka with its standard 80mm lens, the tractor is not in focus (yes, someone screwed up) so I thought I'd try to get a 'pinhole' effect in the darkroom by burning in around the edges of the print.  It kind-of worked, after a fashion...

For comparison, this is what it looked like on 35mm German rangefinder, with a slightly wider angle 35mm lens:

All a bit dull and dark, this last one, innit?  And me contrast isn't quite there either.  If I wasn't fed up looking at tractors I would re-do it and mess about with things a bit.  All printed on Kentmere VC paper, if you're interested, which I'm not quite getting the hang of yet.  

Just a tree

Back at The Cutts, there's a tree which I like to photograph every time I'm there...

A tree

As you can see it's well bent, presumably from the strong winds which come up the river from the North.

It looks different from this angle, though, when the sun is shining on it anyway...

Same tree, different view

I must admit I wasn't too comfortable standing there on the edge of that stone pontoon, with the River Bann one side of me and the lock on the other.  But we artists have to push at the boundaries of our safety zone from time to time, right? (Ed: Oh please, spare us...)