06. Landscape Figures (Nudes)

As the weeks passed, the crowds disappeared, and by the last day of Autumn the beach was empty.<br />
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Gentle but cold Northerly winds blew across the vast open sands and the only sounds she could hear were the crashing waves and the shrill call of an Oystercatcher across the sea. <br />
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The water was cold now, and her memories of basking naked with friends in the summer heat seemed an eternity away from her lonely ponder along the shore today …. And yet, her need for the ocean, to feel the sand beneath her feet and the breeze in her hair remained a yearning within her, a place for her soul to feel connected to the planet. She was grinning despite the transition to winter.

Winter's Coming

Down in the valley, in an isolated farmhouse, paces a shadowy man. Torn between living a depressing reality, trapped by the expectations of ‘normal’ society, or crossing into another existence with his exciting, passionate wild woman, waiting for him high up on the windswept moors. Will he strip himself of his dark clothes and find true happiness, freedom, and peace with her or will he remain weak & shackled like so many others, unable to find their true destiny?

Weathering-Heights.jpg

“Although the nude is vital to the project and integral within the images, the images are not just ‘nudes’ – they are landscapes and stories. In a way they are just simple, beautiful, dreamlike visual questions”.

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The sea was at summer temperatures, but a sharp cool wind raced offshore, cooling the wet skin rapidly. She had spent several hours in the water now, laying on her back in deep tidal pools, swimming in the ocean and now exhausted just enjoying the feelings of a river beneath her as it flowed from coastal valley to open sea. <br />
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This woman studies the ocean and the creatures within, she knows about it and experiences it up close and intimately. She loves the ocean and of course as we all are back in time, she is from the ocean.

From the Ocean

The irresistible ocean from whence we came, draws us to it still. We stand, bathe, swim in the zone, the border to our very beginnings but now an alien environment. When I stand in the waves it’s so much more than just a physical experience; my mind too is somehow communicating with something really ancient, yet still so real, so permanent, so life affirming.

Sensuous Overload

It’s easy to convince ourselves that somehow we are above nature, invincible, that death itself is something we can avoid if we just think positively. Sadly we are destroying nature, destroying our planet, and destroying ourselves. Our actions are creating catastrophes and we haven’t even learned how to live together as a species. We are nothing more than vulnerable, easily damaged organic creatures that walk a tightrope between happiness and sadness, health and sickness, hungry or full, life or death. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if all we had to fear was the illusion of threat, not the the reality of what lies behind threat! Wouldn’t it be lovely if we didn’t have to fear man himself?

Tired of Threats

Emergence from Darkness

Dark Waters

Sparkling Spring Water

Contemplation

"I was off the beaten track amongst acres of dark, ancient trees. As is often the case in these environments, it's possible to 'sense' clearings in the forest simply by watching out for changes in illumination. These open windows burn with light from the skies above so I headed in that direction. She was lithe, sensuous and beautiful, basking on a lichen-covered rock. She luxuriated in the contrast between the cool stone beneath her arched back and the warmth of afternoon sunshine bathing her loins.<br />
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She was alone in her own space, far from the multitudes, simply enjoying the wonder of the nature around her. Nothing concerned her for she was the apex creature in this world. A Stonechat chirped in the distance and two Ravens called to each other in flight above. Tiny summer flies moved silently from shadows to light and the sound of bees collecting pollen, hummed in the still air.

The Lioness

The sunlight was intense, an all encompassing blanket of dry heat, but here in the bushes a gentle breeze rustled the foliage of wispy trees, creating a coolness in the shade. I was warned about this place, and that I needed to tread carefully to avoid all manner of crawling insects and venomous creatures that thrive in this secluded habitat. Every leaf and even the dead twigs on the ground could all be a hiding place for them.<br />
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So as I beat my way along the overgrown path I was taken-aback by what I stumbled across, lying curled up in a patch of sunlight, pale, delicate skin pressed close against the rough ground and sharp leaf litter. There was no obvious movement, just a slight flex of the muscles upon feeling the vibration of my footsteps. I didn’t know how to proceed as I certainly didn’t want to create any disturbance, and I had no idea what the response would be if woken, so I decided to back-track and find a new way around. I became acutely aware that I really did need to watch every step I took in this African scrubland, as you never know what surprises are at each turn. <br />
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From Glyn Davies’s ongoing book and exhibition project Landscape Figures

Step Carefully on the Path

Hannah at Aber Menai - whilst being filmed for ITV Wales series - The Strait

After the Flood

Born in Africa this young woman is at home where the wind-blown desert sands meet the cold Atlantic ocean. She feels at one with this place. She revels in the mixed sensations of the burning heat on her torso, gales tossing her hair and even the stinging of the sharp sand against her ankles. She hears the sound of heavy waves piling on the vast shoreline and she can hear Terns calling high in the sky above. Behind her, a tablecloth of swirling cloud builds over the mountains, marking the zone where the warm Agulhas Current of the Indian Ocean meets the cold Benguela current of the Atlantic. This is a vast and unforgiving landscape but it is hers and she owns it.

Burning Hot in African Winds

In such unsettled, and in many ways dark times for the future of the human species, and nature in general, this image represents a visual snapshot of a reality. We are fundamentally nothing more than small organic creatures, a part of nature but not bigger than it or more important than it. The air, the water and the earth nourish us and give us life yet the more we divide the land, obsess about money, material goods, wealth, power, domination and war, the more we destroy nature, the environment and ultimately ourselves. Is there any other species that so knowingly destroys what it needs to exist. Look at the woman, study the tiny human figure and then look at the bigger picture, the earth itself. If such an intelligent species can bring about it’s own destruction, then it really will be a brave new world for whatever survives.

Brave New World

Between lands, between cultures she is unchained and free; defiant and assured, confident and young. She feels the cold wind upon her body but she braves the elements and only she decides when to leave and where to go. She rides life like a wave.

Strait to the Sea

Nominated image in the 13th Black & White Spider Awards 2018<br />
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The early morning light shimmered off the wet sands of the estuary. Noisy waders skimmed over the wide flats in the hunt for feeding grounds. Dark clouds brewed ominously on the horizon behind us and gathered slowly over the mountain peaks.<br />
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The woman had walked towards me from the distant sand dunes, aware that the tide was rising rapidly, flooding the expanse of the bay behind her. She stood at the water’s edge, long grasses puncturing the the smooth mirror rising around her. She felt the first chill of the breeze from the weather front and clasped herself, yet the sea was still warm after summer rays. She gently, though purposefully stirred the water with her feet, crossing one leg in front of the other as she did so, enjoying the sensation of liquid resistance against her skin. I studied the ripples flowing away from her, small waves of her spiritual energy connecting with me and the shoreline. As the tide rose to her thighs the mud softened beneath her. Under now darkening skies she continued on her journey, passing me by and heading for the sheltered woodland behind me.<br />
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Taken whilst being filmed for the ITV series ‘The Strait’ being broadcast from 5th January 2018

Gently Stirring the Tide

The days are drawing in and the comforting warmth and brilliant light of summer is gradually being replaced with gales and rain. <br />
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The girl from the forest heads towards the light and pushes through the last trees, finding herself at the shore of a great lake. The contrast between the stillness and relative silence of the trees is in stark contrast to the heavy weather fetching at speed across the water’s surface. It takes her by surprise, buffeting her tiny figure and she holds onto low branches for support. <br />
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Her hair blows wildly behind her in the wind and she is acutely aware of the rushes caressing her legs and spray from the waves pinpricking her naked flesh, but she revels in these sensations. Her senses are heightened and the place and the moment are a catalyst for her thoughts about her existence and a reminder that the cycle of the seasons is unavoidable and that nature is everything.

When the Wind Blows

She had travelled oceans and her body had ploughed through waves. She had baked in tropical sunshine and been whipped by Arctic winds. Enough was enough. She needed earth beneath her feet and the firmness of land for security. Under the cover of dusk she silently slipped from those she protected and headed for the cliff tops. <br />
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As they headed to sea on the morning tide, she could hear the calls of an unnerved crew hoisting sails. She felt guilty but her new journey was enchanting and she smiled secretly as the grasses blew around her ankles.

The Missing

She felt the solitude; she was alone and content to be so. She could walk for hours if she wanted to, without finding another soul. In a clearing in the dark woods grew a special tree, ancient and distorted, its wise old boughs now a large hand, enticing, beckoning. <br />
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She silently climbed onto its palm and slowly eased her legs either side of a thick branch, a large mossy finger now pressing into her. She abandoned herself to the sensuality of her position. The sticky heat of the day endured and as she lay there, gasping the warm air, she felt the first drops of perspiration trickling down her flesh.

Intimately Connected

Nothing is forever. The rock, millions of years old, is gradually being eroded away, battered and smoothed by repeated attrition from waves, pebbles and sand. There is beauty in it transformation, smooth forms now replace harsh jagged edges and identifiable shapes, faces and objects appear as joints are exploited and widened. <br />
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A huge chair has appeared in a tiny cove, pale and curvaceous like the woman of the cove. At each low tide she can be seen sitting there on it’s rounded granite cushion, surveying her environment, enjoying the breeze in her hair and the warm sunshine on her naked skin. <br />
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This chair has seen many angels, healers and mermaids and although this woman is the blink of an eye in geological terms, when she has returned to the sea another wonder will take her place. It’s always been the way at this magical cove.

The Chair Woman

Once the refuge for renegade tribes, this harsh, jagged-rock landscape is now a place of peace and isolation. The fierce winds whistle and howl their way around the towers of this natural stone fortress, but apart from the occasional call of the Raven, or the drifting chat of the occasional hill walker, this place is more remote than ever, perhaps a days walk from the nearest habitation.<br />
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With the wind blowing her hair, and deliberate careful footsteps, she softly, silently padded up the rough rock pinnacle, as a lioness would, to survey her territory from the highest point in the area. History flooded around her.

The Fortress

Nominee in Nude / B&W Spider Awards 2017<br />
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There is always something special and deeply sensuous about touching wild water. The woman stretched her body and gently, slowly, rolled across the wet sand with no more than an inch of water beneath her slender body. Her long raven hair whipped in the warm West wind blowing down the estuary from the sea beyond the dunes. She revelled in the feelings; embraced by the elements; sinking her fingers into the saturated earth and pressing her flesh against the estuary, becoming a part of it, connected to it, supported by it. Droplets trickled over every inch of her body making the wind feel cool, goosebumps raised on her delicate skin, making her even more sensitive to the air around her. She was invigorated, purified.

A Roll In Landscape

Honourable Mention in the 2016 (11th) Annual Black & White Spider Awards<br />
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“It was a warm overcast evening, but delicate strokes of sunlight occasionally filtered through the grey blanket. Its was silent; even the waves barely murmured and the seabirds must have been at roost for there were no calls. In the middle of a rock pool rose a large coffin shaped stone. I lay across its cool surface, acutely aware of the minutest of breezes, the slippery weed below my body but also eroded smoothness of this natural landscape. I lay there for almost an hour until the fast advancing tide swirled around my rock bed, and the sea caressed my fingers and toes, ready to take me, to float me away. It was a wonderful sense of existence”

At Rest

Sometimes the world is just too hot, and in the heat there is an urgent need for shade, for ease, for peace, for sanctuary. I find myself in need of more shade these days, but there is now less available than ever. We are destroying ourselves and I find myself fading.

A Need For Sanctuary

Nominated for 11th International B&W Spider Awards<br />
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Innocence in a dark world where being nude outdoors is seen as sinful. That fact that she was conceived by two naked people; born into the world naked, from her mother’s naked body seemed not to have a bearing on her freedom to enjoy this most natural state. As a young child she would run carefree on the open beach, delighting in not having to wear clothes. She saw other children happily playing naked there, equally without sin - just joyful, smiling and friendly - all enjoying an intimate natural connection to the amazing world that they had been introduced to.<br />
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But as her body developed and her breasts grew, she was expected to cover up. The world now saw immorality in her naked maturity; her nudity became frowned upon; people couldn’t bear to acknowledge her new sexuality or even gaze upon her natural form, fearful of their own sexual confusion and self-control. Her beautiful body must always be covered up, never revealed to others. The incredible and life affirming experience of being naked outdoors had become dirty and immoral – both her body and her real character were now hidden.<br />
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Up here on a hillside however, a bright light appeared, slowly burning through the heavy clouds and she found herself nude. She felt the short grass beneath her feet and gentle sunshine on her back as she stretched her naked body once more, revealing herself completely to the earth, the sky and the elements. She stood on tiptoes, aching to be lifted upwards. She wanted to show the world that she was still alive, still innocent, even in her naked form. There was a discernible aura around this woman and I sensed her natural existence had just been spiritually validated.

The Revelation

On her stone pulpit in the middle of vast open moorland stood a proud woman, her long hair blowing in the wind. It was as if she were addressing a crowd but she held her hands before her, covering her womanhood. I loved the contradiction. She became aware that I was watching and so as not to to cause her any awkwardness I started to walk away. She glanced at me for a few moments, studying me, before turning her head back towards the dark clouds now sweeping in from the sea.

Studied

Most of my images have featured the individual in relation to their natural environment, but this most recent image contains three nude figures, creating a narrative (or narratives) which should be open to interpretation by different viewers. <br />
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For me as the artist I was fascinated by these naturally occurring caves in huge sea cliffs, caves which really look as though they are dwellings not geological formations. In the early evening sunlight, naked, vulnerable human beings emerge from the caves and revel in the heat of the sunlight and the warmth of the rock of their environment. It was as if I were watching a wildlife programme whilst observing my naked volunteers in this imposing cliff landscape. I like that the rock separates each of the figures, so that they'd be almost unaware of each other, but in the lower caves a man and a woman make a loving connection albeit fragile, whilst in the higher cave a lone female looks towards the light and companionship.

Scene at the Bare Caves

Sunlight dappled through the woodland canopy, creating a richly coloured theatre in the round within the nature below. Summer warmth was exiting Stage Left. There was a buzz in the woodland auditorium, from a system of seemingly motionless Hoverflies, and a songful Blackbird gave a curtain call after devouring Blackberries ahead of Winter. Not to be upstaged, two Chaffinches on the wing could be heard calling to each other whilst flitting between trees.<br />
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The nymph moved gracefully and silently through the Autumn bracken from green room to centre stage, her steps cushioned by lush, soft undergrowth. Her flesh connected with the trees and she gently rubbed her thigh against a soft, moss-covered trunk before sliding her hands up and around the growing wood. Her body savoured the sensual sensation and she looked to the Gods in thanks but to me, watching from backstage, she was no fallen star but a minor goddess in her own limelight"

Woodland Nymph

After a two hour slog up from sea-level valley to mountain top, loaded with photo gear & warm clothing, we were made to feel humble by a young woman climbing to the summit itself. Her pale soft skin contrasted with the sharp, rough rock but with such purpose, grace and balance, as if a slow motion dance, we could see her muscles working as she pulled, stepped into and lay-backed the arete before standing tall at the highest point to feel the cool mountain-top breeze caressing her hot skin. Below, we huddled up and drank coffee and ate sandwiches.

Woman Ascending

Nominated in 10th (2017) International Colour Awards (Nude category) <br />
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“It was dusk and a gentle mist hung in the valleys, illuminated only by the last glimmer of Autumnal daylight. There was delicate moisture in the air and a slight dampness on the short grass surrounding the rock. Rich, earthy smells surrounded me, from the bracken and ancient woodland adjacent to the outcrop. Above the sound of a gurgling brook I could hear a thrush singing somewhere in the distance. Apart from that there was relative silence; no cars, no planes, no groups of chatty ‘ramblers on a mission’, just me in what felt like a lost valley. I was alone and had found perfect solitude. <br />
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I enjoyed the feeling of the cool, almost prickly, sheep-mown grass on the soles of my feet, but the rock was warm having basked during a day of unbroken sunshine under clear blue skies. Although the rocky outcrop looked smooth from a distance it was rough beneath my skin, making my body feel vulnerable to its sharp surface. I enjoyed the sensation nevertheless, feeling utterly and intimately connected to ‘my’ rock, a rock carved by glaciers millions of years ago, scratched and smoothed by the weight of ice, but today it was just me, an insignificant speck on the planet. Yet the planet means everything to me; I feel it, see it, and hear it. It provides for me, nourishes me and I am a part of it nevertheless. <br />
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As the melody of the Song Thrush drifted away, I lay relaxed, supine, as much of my skin surface in contact with the rock as I could manage, facing the darkening universe above. The rock supported me, it seemed as if the Earth itself was carrying me, a fragile, perishable organic figure, exposed to the air and the elements but wonderfully connected to the land"

Then Came Autumn

"Landscape Figures" Believable nudes in wild landscape<br />
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A major new exhibition, “Landscape Figures”<br />
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In 2011, the British Prime Minister catapulted professional landscape photographer, Glyn Davies, into the limelight after purchasing two of Glyn’s books as a personal gift for the Royal wedding of the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge. What people did not know at this time is that Glyn had started working in his free time on a three year major project dealing with the subject of fragility and vulnerability of the naked human form in wild landscape.<br />
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The models are inexperienced volunteers from the general public, not photographic models, and they were asked to pose completely naked, all forms of protection removed, clothes, boots and equipment so that they became exposed physically and mentally to the elements, but sensually connected to the earth and nature. Glyn said, "I mostly wanted to place the exposed figures within bigger spaces but sometimes there was a need to place them in more intimate, closer landscapes"

Wall of Fog

"I stood waist deep in dark water in a mountain gorge. Drizzle permeated the air & everything was dank. The thundering noise of the waterfall at the far end was relentless & disturbing in this remote, surreal landscape but soon the sound intensified, almost deafening in the darkness, as the figure of a tormented man appeared, raising himself within the pummelling, punishing torrent"

The Apparition

Overcoming Barriers

"She had been a long time in the cool, dark forest and she needed light. Her skin was pale and chilled, feeling taught across her muscles. Every delicate hair on her body was raised to retain her own heat..........."<br />
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For the full story, buy the book here: http://www.blurb.co.uk/b/7799527-landscape-figures

Light Touches

$In this ancient Welsh cave, eroded by eons of nature’s attack, it feels hard, solid and eternal nevertheless. The headless organic figure shows our irrelevance to the bigger world. This microscopic virus will do what it will do, it will kill and decimate communities in the same way as so many viruses before. Whether it’s the climate, forces of nature, bacteria or viruses, our place on this earth is fragile and finite - we are never really in control of our future. <br /> <br /> We can be so beautiful, wonderful, creative and innovative, but without love, human touch, close relationships and socialising, human life seems little more than billions of organisms struggling to survive. Our whole life is over in a fraction of a microsecond in geological time, so I hope for all of us, that we find a vaccine soon so that we can once again become the full human beings that we all need to be.$