Robert Bolton

I live in North Wiltshire, a county in the UK. I am fortunate in that I have and continue to travel the world. Previously for work and now for fun, photography and adventure. My beloved wife died in 2022 and I find that having a schedule of trips to look forward to stops me simply going inwards and dwelling on the past. That is why photography is important to me.

I was given a camera for my 13th birthday, a Zenith, built like a brick. But was hooked. Career and family later-on meant that taking pictures took a back seat. then in my late 40s I went into a camera shop in Bath and came out with a Bronica RF and was back in the grip!

Subsequently switched to digital. To begin with I took colourful sunset seascapes. Then I began to find my voice so to speak.

From traditional seascapes I soon realised that less was indeed more. Minimalism, abstraction and otherworldliness spoke to me more. Including desaturated colour and black and white. I now know longer seek to photograph what is there; but, instead, photograph what is in my imagination. Although there is one consistency to much of my work and this is water. Never very far from the sea or a lake.

Minimalist photography is a move from a left-brain activity, that captures the scene, to one that is more right-brain; suggestive, not actual. There is a paradox at the heart of minimalism: less in the frame but a minimalist interpretation communicates more about the location than a traditional photo ever could. On a related note, I find that when I am at a location I end up building a deeper relationship to the place. Partly as a result of searching out the compositions. But there is more to it than that. Minimalism, for me, works in the same way as poetry: seeking to express the emotional and spiritual as much as the actual. Its Zen.

The work of Jonathan Chritchley, Rachael Talibart, Rohan Reilly, Howard Bond and Bruce Percy have all had an influence on me. The first images I saw from Jonathan Chritchley, in his book Silver, including from the oyster farms of Bouziques, France, set me off on the journey.

A lot has to do with location. Last year I went to Lencois Maranhenses in Brazil. A vast network of freshwater lagoons and dunes. Black and white didn't really work. desaturated colour seemed to suit the location better with pastel hues. Iceland on the other hand, especially the southern highlands, is a monochrome location for me. I go to Iceland every year. Definitely a happy place. My architecture abstract shots, such as from the Cyclades islands of Greece is definitely a black and white location. The white walls and blue skies, which of course can turn inky black in monochrome, makes for some intriguing minimalist abstracts.

If I was to pick a word it would be 'otherworldly'. Some of my images from Bandon Beach in Oregon look to me as if they are another planet. Especially in colour with the pastel hues. One in particular features Howling Dog Rock and the scene looks to me as if it is Titan, one of the moons of Saturn with lakes of methane and hoodoos of icy hydrocarbons, a Lost World or one yet to be discovered.

I also find that minimalism means I can dispense with the typical 'rules of photography'. Particularly the tyranny of the rule of thirds.

A bit. I shoot with Fujifilm cameras. Usually the GFX series. Which is ironic, incredible resolution but I include less and less in my images. Strange. More important is a great tripod for long exposure stability. I use a Really Right Stuff tripod head. Fantastic engineering.

Almost everything: Music, especially world music and Jazz from artists like Sarathy Korwar, Ganavya, Arooj Aftab, Charles Lloyd and Gary Bartz. Although I have never lost my teenage obsession with Prog Rock, King Crimson being a favourite.

I also write. Largely about business topics from my management consulting days. "Breaking Open The Boxes: 100 Quadrants for Wisdom and Success in Life" and "Circles of Business, Strategy and Leadership: The Power of Venn" are two recent books co-authored with Andrew Munro. Both books emphasise thinking that goes beyond black and white, that embraces shades of grey, and resolves "wicked" dilemmas in organisations.

I am shortly to move to a new book project, solo this time, about Power, using the Venn diagram approach.

A bird of some sort. One that soars and uses the thermals. A kite, a hawk or an eagle perhaps. Having learned to fly in the past the privilege of looking down at the world is very special.