I am an amateur photographer in the greatest sense of the word – it is my life but not my living. Having worked as a professional for twelve months in the 1990s and as a result losing my way photographically, I scarcely lifted a camera for ten years until digital cameras became available and the convenience and intriguing technology of these new gadgets attracted me. Before long, the poor quality of the results led me to dig out my old Olympus, to buy another Bronica and rekindle my love of monochrome film and fibre-based prints.

Having ranged through many formats and media I discovered pinhole and for the last two years I have photographed almost exclusively using pinhole cameras. I prefer to make my own cameras as I like the craftsmanship required and feel that it adds an extra dimension to the images I create (if only in my own mind).

There seems to be a curious empathy between the homemade nature of our own lives and the representations we make of them using these cameras: the results are very individual; the clarity or otherwise of the result is very much down to the methods of manufacture and use employed by the photographer; unexpected – and often beautifully surprising – events of light and perspective frequently throw the user’s previsualisation into a role of very secondary importance.

The long exposures required, sometimes lasting hours, grace the images with a powerful sense of narrative. Indeed, I find myself working to produce photographs in series or sequence rather than single images. There is little conscious thought behind this, more that the inevitably slow processes involved allow – if not impose – a wider view of what is happening at the time. The first image will often spark ideas for modifications, expansions and developments on the theme and that wonderful sensation of “giving up” or ceasing to “try so hard” invades one’s being and the camera and the photographer’s eyes and heart become more of a guide or channel for light than instruments for clinical recording of a scene.

Pinhole is not for the control freak! It demands a certain level of acceptance that one probably won’t get what one expects. Therein lies some of its wonder. There cannot be a pinhole photographer who has never reeled in amazement that he or she has played a part in creating something totally unimagined and wildly exciting which has come from somewhere outside and beyond the intellect.

Although my cameras are basic and elemental, I do however employ the wonders of computers and pigment inks to make my prints. When time allows I like to get into the darkroom with its silence, punctuated only by the tick of timers and the dripping of water, but in reality I print almost exclusively using digital methods. My Epson 2100 is loaded with a continous inking system from Permajet who produce inks to beat anything made by Epson themselves. For paper, I again turn to Permajet for their wide and impressive range of archival fine art media. My stock paper is their beautiful mould-made, off-white 310gsm Alpha paper.

I have held two solo exhibitons of my work, including a collection of monochrome photographs entitled “Interface – Mankind and Nature” at Warwick Museum and Art Gallery.

Prints of my images are available for sale, singly or as a series. A series comes in a handmade archival binder (similar to the binding of a hardback book) and all prints are signed, titled and numbered…mark tweedie photography