Through a glass: Straffe Hendrik
I try not to keep hold of many beer glasses. When I moved house last year, boxes of them went to charity, to ebay and to the skip. Cupboard space at the new gaff was at a premium. So the ones that made the move were the happy few that had some technical or emotional significance.
So I thought I'd photograph them, with a beer. Reconnect with why they're more to me than just another vessel. I bought a soft light tent, some spotlamps, dug out the tripod. And you know what?
Photographing glassware is a bastard.
First time I tried, I spent ninety minutes collecting blurry snaps and then spent another three hours drinking a fridge-full of beers. Not exactly dedication to the cause.
This time, it was point, shoot and hope.
Hideous picture, I know. But there's a beauty within.
Straffe Hendrik blonde was my first ever Belgian beer. In Bruges. It was the house beer at the hotel I stayed in, it was happy hour and I struggled with the idea of beer in a funny shaped-and-sized glass. But, three days later, it had become the beer that tuned my palate into a whole new world and the first beer glass I ever bought.
Since that day in 2005, most Belgian beers I've drank at home have been in this glass. Nothing, though, is ever quite the same as that Straffe 6; indeed, the beer in it tonight is Straffe 9. It's a rather sticky tripel, dried cut grass clashes with tired bubblegum. Just the merest smear of warm glue.
I'm hoping the photos will improve - if anyone has hints and tips on glassware pics, please let me know. As for the beer - maybe it's like caching up with your first love only to find she's now heavier-set, stronger in character but slightly bittersweet.
Thanks to beermerchants for the bottle. >
So I thought I'd photograph them, with a beer. Reconnect with why they're more to me than just another vessel. I bought a soft light tent, some spotlamps, dug out the tripod. And you know what?
Photographing glassware is a bastard.
First time I tried, I spent ninety minutes collecting blurry snaps and then spent another three hours drinking a fridge-full of beers. Not exactly dedication to the cause.
This time, it was point, shoot and hope.
Hideous picture, I know. But there's a beauty within.
Straffe Hendrik blonde was my first ever Belgian beer. In Bruges. It was the house beer at the hotel I stayed in, it was happy hour and I struggled with the idea of beer in a funny shaped-and-sized glass. But, three days later, it had become the beer that tuned my palate into a whole new world and the first beer glass I ever bought.
Since that day in 2005, most Belgian beers I've drank at home have been in this glass. Nothing, though, is ever quite the same as that Straffe 6; indeed, the beer in it tonight is Straffe 9. It's a rather sticky tripel, dried cut grass clashes with tired bubblegum. Just the merest smear of warm glue.
I'm hoping the photos will improve - if anyone has hints and tips on glassware pics, please let me know. As for the beer - maybe it's like caching up with your first love only to find she's now heavier-set, stronger in character but slightly bittersweet.
Thanks to beermerchants for the bottle. >