Let’s talk about Crows

I hail from the West of Scotland, and so does my name ‘Crawford’. The name is old Scottish from ‘Craw’ = ‘Crow’ and ‘Ford’ = ‘River Crossing’. During my formative years everyone knew me as Craw. In fact, to this day if I go back to my hometown and meet someone who I haven’t seen since my youth, they are most likely still going to call me Craw. Essentially my name is Crow.

I’ve always had an affinity with these fascinating birds. They popped up in childhood stories and always had a magical, if not sinister, presence, and unlike other magical creatures that popped up in stories, you actually seen them about town. It was easy to imagine them as these magical creatures living amongst us. Hiden in plain sight. I used to imagine myself as a crow. Running around, arms outstretched like wings, shouting my name: Craw! Craw! Craw! Much has been written about these birds, and if your are interested in an overview, look no further that this excellent little book.

I have enjoyed photography for many years. How it started and evolved is something for another post, but I suspect that like many of us, it all started a bit randomly. It remained random for a long time. hundreds and thousands of disconnected snapshots. Documenting my family. Documenting my life. Without any ambition, I was unconsciously honing my craft. But slowly, themes emerged. The shots became more ambitious. No longer simple documents, but trying to be something aesthetic. A style started to emerge and I became conscious of it. I liked it. But it was still all very random. I needed a project to tie it all together. But what?

Last year I was dragged along to Photo Paris. It was so cool to be exposed to all of this photographic art (Thank you Olenka!). I felt inspired in a general way, but I was particularly inspired by two photographers. The first was the excellent Stephen Gill and his project ‘The Pillar’. The second was the equally excellent Hitoshi Fugo and his amazing ‘Flying Frying Pan’ project. I had the pleasure to discuss with Hitoshi for a while and he was thoroughly down to earth, and just like Stephen Gill, he was simply shooting what was under his nose. In some way they both turned something mundane into a beautiful photographic art project. That really got me thinking.

I am lucky enough to have a view over the river Rhine. There is a group of crows that live nearby and I see them and interact with them regularly. They love to tease my dog. They sneak up behind her on foot seeing how close they can get before she finally snaps. As she ages and her vision and hearing dulls, they are getting pretty damn close! This small group of crows live by the Rhine for the whole year. However, during the winter months their numbers swell. I assume that they are joined by a group of migratory crows. For a short time there are literally hundreds of them. They congregate before dawn and fly in circles above the river in a massive flock. Craw! Craw! Craw! About 5 minutes before the sun comes up, it is all over and they disperse. They re-congregate and start this same dance about 5 minutes after sunset. There is something otherworldly and mysterious about this behaviour. I don’t know where they come from, what they are doing, or where they go during the rest of the day. It just seems like some great magical sunset/sunrise ritual. Most likely they are simply feeding on some insect that has its own sunset/sunrise ritual! In any case I had my project!

These crows are difficult to photograph. They congregate and dance in the shittiest of photography conditions. I was frustrated in the beginning because I wanted clean, sharp photos, but gradually I began to embrace the grain and the blur. Shooting at high ISOs with a slow shutter in the dark results in its own special feeling. Either you like it or you don’t. I like it. So there you have it, my first photographic project. Not quite finished yet, but getting there (when is something every fully finished anyway?). I do not think I done the sunset/sunrise ritual justice, but the time is gone and I want to turn these images into something physical before I lose the momentum :)

I can’t finish without mentioning Masahisa Fukase's Ravens. I didn’t know about Fukase when I started shooting my crows, but I certainly know about him now. Damn it feels like there is no original idea left! Even the humble Frying pan has been ‘done’! It was with equal measure of delight and dismay that I held Fukase’s book in my hands. He had shot these birds, and done so much more beautifully than I ever could. Leafing through the images I seen the same grain and blur as I obtained in my own photographs. I seen the same large congregations of Crows. 40 years ago and 13,000 km away I guess that he also observed the same sunrise/sunset ritual as I did, and he also had the same photographic struggle of shooting in the dark. I definitely felt some connection. But there are two big differences. His photography is better than mines. But also, he shot his birds in the midst of a depression. His shots were a study in loneliness and mourning. Not so my crows. I am shooting from a happy place. I do not perceive these birds to be lonely. On the contrary, where there is one there is always another, and if it is about anything, my shots, despite being ofttimes dark, are celebrating these quirky birds and their strange habits.

Craw! Craw! Craw!