Graham Vasey Photography

Fine Art Photographer darkroom printer and Fallon's Angler jotter

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Kingdom of Rust

Fuimus Ironopolis I met a traveller from an antique land, Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand, Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them, and the heart…

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A Field In Baldersdale

A Field In Baldersdale

It was a bleak, cold day in January when my dad and I decided to venture out in the hope of finding some fragments of Teesdale’s ancient past. Guided by the information in the fantastic book Prehistoric Rock Art of County Durham, Swaledale and Wensleydale written by Stan Beckensall and Tim Laurie we soon arrived at a small farm-house high above Hury Reservoir in Baldersdale. With the farmers kind…

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Red Grooves

Red Grooves House sits high upon the windswept fell side of Newbiggin Common just west of the vast man made scar of Coldberry Gutter. The history of this house seems vague, and it is unclear wether it was built as a mineshop (bascially over night accomadation for the miners) or a farm, but it looks like it was occupied until the late 1950s early 60s. For its day the house was well-appointed with…

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All about the Stone

All about the Stone

So there the boulder sits, left by a glacier thousands of years ago, he has withstood the wind and rain while all round the soft limestone has slowly dissolved away leaving him standing on his rocky pedestal. I first stumbled across this stone while wandering across the moor only to rediscover him once again this summer fifteen years later. But in the life span of this rock fifteen years is just…

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Blackened Timber

It was a few months ago a friend and fellow photographer Andrew Bartram of https://andrewbartram.wordpress.com/just so happened to be working up North and had a morning free to spend roaming around my local fell with a camera and me as his guide. We both share a love of old sheds and barns and were soon absorbed by the numerous chicken shacks and pigeon crees which are scattered across the moor.…

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Going Back

My previous trip to the millstone quarry on Carr Crag had been incredible, but I couldn’t help but feel that the weather had cut my exploration a little too short and I knew there was still a lot more to be discovered. So a few weeks later with some better weather in the offing my dad and I walked down the now familiar track towards the ruins of Flushiemere House. Together we followed the path…

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Millstone Grit

I had probably been sat there for too long. The weather report had given me a brief window between the two weather fronts which were moving across the country from the north, but in my defense it had been a long haul up the steep fell side, and the giant gritstone boulder I had found provided the perfect shelter from the bitter wind which was sweeping across the moorland behind me. The day had…

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A trip to Inkerman

A trip to Inkerman

Inkerman isn’t the kind of name you would normally associate with the small town of Tow Law high up above Weardale in County Durham, but the connections are there. In 1854 the Durham Light Infantry, known then as 68th Regiment of Foot nicknamed The Faithful Durhams, fought in one of the most important battles of the Crimean War. It took place on a freezing cold foggy day in November, and it was…

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The last Home of Holgate

The last Home of Holgate

It’s hard to think that in twenty-first century England there are still places which can be considered to be truly remote, when for many of us it may seem such a small and over populated island. But once you venture beyond the main dales roads of the Pennines into the deep folds and hollows that make up its vast hinterland of fell and moorland you can still find abandoned cottages and farmsteads…

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A Journey into Mirkwood

A Journey into Mirkwood

It wasn’t until late March that I finally got the chance to finish the double exposures which began life on my makeshift kitchen table studio. By then the late winter darkness had started to open up to the beginnings of spring and a weak sun shone through the bare branches of my chosen location. I had nicknamed this place Mirkwood (the title I also gave to one of my Stag Skull pictures that began…

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In a World of Rust An ancient tractor sits crab like, slowly sinking into the gravel, surrounded by the flotsam of last winter's storms, with nothing to protect it from the elements other then a battered old tarp lashed down with frayed blue nylon rope.

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New Paths

In my last post I spoke about the new Gallerina HQ opening it’s doors to the public and how I had pushed myself to create some new work for this special occasion. Well so far the response from the public for my latest pictures has been tremendous, it’s been so great it has inspired me to expirement more and see where it takes me.  One of the most daunting aspects of these multiple exposure…

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It's that Time of Year Again!

It’s that Time of Year Again!

Happy Christmas everyone. There have been plenty of ups and downs this year, and though I would have liked to spend a lot more time in my darkroom (once again I have too many yet unprinted negatives) there have been few highlights for me. Many of you may have seen that back in April I had my first ever article published in the brilliant Fallon’s Angler publication, well would you believe it, they…

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As I Look To The West

As I Look To The West

There are some places that stay with you, and though the precise details may fade over time the sense of the place, the emotional connection to the landscape and the weather remain with you for years. These memories haunt your imagination waiting for the chance to return. A telephone conversation with a friend and fellow photographer Alex Boyd about his move to a small village on the west coast…

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Beneath The Board Beach Tree.

Beneath The Board Beach Tree.

On the bank of one of my favourite pools stands a grand patriarch of a beech tree casting it’s branches across the river like some ancient Entish guardian from Tolkien’s Middle Earth. During the cold stirring of spring these gnarled boughs are bare and skeletal but come the warm days summer trout will lazily rise to sip insects off the waters surface beneath it’s shady verdant canopy. Years of…

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One of Fallon's Anglers

One of Fallon’s Anglers

Many of you may not know but photography is not my only passion, I have another which has sometimes kept me away from the darkroom when I should have been working and sometimes away from my bed when I should have been sleeping, and that is the gentle art of fishing. So I was over the moon when I was given the opportunity to combine my two passions and create an article for the wonderful fishing…

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Opportunity Knocks Once?

January and Feburary have sped into March, everything has seemed to pass me by in a blur. I’ve been really lucky this year to have two big commissions to occupy my time. Both have taken sole priority in the darkroom with hours spent developing and pirnting leaving very little room for anything else. With a bit more time on my hands over the last few days I’ve managed to go back over some of the…

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