Festival action

I went to a race meeting for the first time in my life today. Not any old race meeting, mind, but the Cheltenham National Hunt Festival.

I've lived in Gloucestershire since 1990 and it has become something of an embarrassment when I've had to own up to never having seen its number one sporting event. I put that right today.

And what did I make of it? Well, people wax lyrical about it, but I thought it was a bit of a curate's egg - good in parts. Yes, there was a good atmosphere and the event attracted all sorts of characters. It was also wonderful to get close to the racehorses themselves - slightly smaller than I imagined, but such lean, super-fit creatures. But there's lots of booze, lots of money being frittered away, lots of pushing and shoving, extremely expensive food... and I didn't actually find it hugely exciting, even though I had wagered money on all the races.

I went there also hoping to get some good shots with my camera. I saw a number of press photographers, bedecked in cameras with massive lenses. It's only when you start taking your own shots that you realise why they need such heavy-duty equipment.

Family album

I turned my attention to a different project today, recruiting my daughter as a model in the process.

My blog entry on October 4 described a project concerned with the visual language of the photograph and my intention to use as an example a picture Norman Parkinson took of the model Anne Chambers in Bath.

I liked Parkinson's idea of using a pillar to emphasise the rule of thirds and chose to take my picture at the Pittville Pump Rooms in Cheltenham - a building blessed with a number of doric columns.

I also tried to employ some of the other techniques Parkinson used, such as using contrasts in tone to make the model stand out and trying to introduce an air of mystery by partially obscuring the model behind a pillar.