Coming Full Circle
Why the tripod and I have never quite got along.
This week, I delivered my first camera club talk to the Wayland and District Camera Club. Writing the presentation opened my eyes to something I hadn’t expected. My photography has not evolved over the years, as I’d always assumed. It’s come full circle. Let me explain.
I used to think my photographic journey led me to my reactive style, when actually it was there all along. My running photography, in particular, is exactly like this. There’s no planning involved photographically, and sometimes I don’t even know where I’m going when I step out the door. It’s just running and reacting to what I see around me. If I see a shot, I stop, grab it, and move on. That’s exactly the photographic philosophy I follow today.
Even before my running and now-cycling photography became a thing, it was there when I was mountaineering. It was the same approach. I’ve been fortunate enough to photograph a couple of friends’ weddings over the years, and looking back, it’s the candid shots I remember and am most proud of. The group or posed shots I was, and continue to be, less comfortable with. Introduce a tripod into my workflow, and I immediately feel constrained, like a caged animal.
A few years ago, when I decided to take my photography more seriously, I assumed that landscape photography was the path for me. Like all good landscape photographers, I got a tripod and would diligently set it up and work the scene, but something didn’t feel right. I used to put this down to the genre I was trying to force myself into, and I’ve written about that here. I still think that’s partly true. But I now think the tripod played its own part. The constraints it introduced simply weren’t compatible with my natural, instinctive style.
I see photography as an extension of my sense of adventure and movement. Be it exploring the streets of London, a multi-storey car park in Ely, or cycling across the fens. I capture photography as part of that movement, not because of it. With a camera in my hand, it feels like a part of me, an extension of my arm, my eye and my mind. Place it on a tripod, and it is now disconnected from me, and me from the photograph I’m creating.
For me, photography is a very physical thing. I move, I lean, I crouch, I sway, adjusting the composition to my liking. I am the tripod, and my camera is part of me, the camera and I working together in harmony.
Recently, I spent an enjoyable weekend in the Lakes with some friends, all of whom would describe themselves as landscape photographers and very talented ones at that. I took my tripod with me, as I thought I should at least show willing. At our first dawn shoot, on the shores of Brother’s Water, I followed the others’ lead and broke out my tripod. It lasted no more than five minutes. It felt suffocating to use. The process lacked any connection to the scene before me, and I felt lost. Eventually, I ripped my camera off the tripod, and the enjoyment and energy returned immediately. I moved along the shore around the others, ducking and diving to find the shots I wanted in the way that worked for me. My tripod standing alone, watching me go about my work.
I tell you this not to criticise those who use tripods. I completely understand their purpose and value. They just don’t fit my approach and style. What I’ve learned from writing my presentation is that this wasn’t the evolutionary step I once thought it was. It was a return home. My creative journey is going full circle, back to my roots and the joy and flow I find in my run-and-gun style.
Will I be selling my tripods? Well, no, at least not all of them. For low-light, astro, and long-exposure photography, they still have their place, and I’d like to have the option to use them, even if only rarely. I’m just comfortable with the idea that this will be the exception rather than the norm.
A massive thanks to Wayland and District Camera Club for the invite to talk with them, and for the inspiration for this week’s article. It was so nice to hear your feedback, and I hope you got something out of the evening as I talked you through my photographic journey and approach. That’s all I asked.
Are you a tripod devotee or, like me, do you feel happier with the camera in your hands? Has your own style evolved over the years, or quietly come full circle? I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments below.







My tripod is lonely 99% of the time. I used it on a ranger led cave tour, some Astro and northern lights moments. It is also too much of a constraint for me. With mirrorless cameras able to deliver in low light handheld these days. I believe this no tripod constraint is the one I’ll live with better. Peace
I feel this so much, Giles. Working with a tripod feels so restrictive. We seem to share similar journeys, from landscape to just following the light. Good luck with your talk, I know it will be informative and enjoyable.