The adventures of burningred's intrepid explorers: Bwlch Mountain with Sherman Theatre
When shooting a photoshoot in Wales, there are three things you can always, always, expect to happen: (1) you will attract the attention of the locals, be it good or bad, (2) it will be skin-flinchingly cold, and (3), there will be sheep.
Happily, we could rely on all three occurrences during our recent early January photoshoot at the crest of Bwlch Mountain. Standing at the peak feels as though you’ve walked to the very edge of Wales - a Truman Show-esque backdrop - and you’ve turned to gaze across the final sweeping, slanting hills of a nation.
It feels rural, yet anchored by the snugly-nestled town of Nantymoel. It feels rugged in colour, yet soft and gentle in its curves. And it feels very bloody cold.
The shoot was for Sherman Theatre’s adaptation of ‘An Enemy of the People’, a re-telling of the classic Ibsen play. Starring Nia Roberts (Hidden, The Crown, Keeping Faith, Doctor Who) as Dr Rhiannon Powell, it’s one woman’s struggle to stand up for her Valleys hometown when the water becomes poisoned - even if they hate her for it.
Alex, our principal photographer, and I, the glamorous assistant, began our morning early, packing the car with the tripods, camera, flashgun and reflectors. We drove through Bridgend, on through Bryncethin then Ogmore Vale, taking in the sights of tattoo shops open before 10 in the morning and the little rows of toy houses flanked by imposing mountains all around.
At times, the sun flitting through the fir trees felt more akin to Vermont, or New England, or Canada - not Wales. (We stopped to take pictures multiple times on the way back; it would’ve been disrespectful not to).
We arrived before the Sherman team, and unloaded and set up before being promptly aggressed by hordes (okay, three) curious, bleating sheep. Turns out, they just wanted new headshots - Alex was happy to oblige…
Sheep satisfied (didn’t I say there would be sheep?), we stood around stamping our boots and blowing hot air on our foolishly gloveless fingers. To check the lighting, we took a few tester snaps that came out like promo shots for a BBC4 TV series about ‘the troubles facing the youth in rural Valleys towns’, but hey ho.
Before long, the rest of our party had arrived via taxi. We set up with Nia standing at the edge of the very steep mountainside, which everyone was delighted-and-definitely-not-panicking about, and took photos of her with ‘her town’ in the background. We switched between the DSLR and Alex’s iPhone 11 Pro, for options - although interestingly, the iPhone’s version really does look like a fake backdrop. I swear we really were there!
We carried on for 20-30 minutes or so, trying it with and without jackets, with and without facial expressions, before being gently interrupted by a boy racer in a Ford Focus pulling up, windows rolled, blasting some form of happy hardcore from 2002.
Well, you can imagine our surprise when the occupant revealed himself not to be an 18 year old fellow with tramlines cut into his eyebrows and a full sleeve of tattoos, but a 60-something man in a polo shirt who got out and promptly made himself comfortable leaning on the railings and watching us with a great deal of interest.
“Oh God, what does he want?” came the under-the-breath mutters from the team - nothing, as it turned out. He wasn’t there to rob our flash umbrella and leg it; he just wanted a look. As if the way with Valleys people, he only lightly heckled us before leaving with a cheery wave.
We weren’t accosted again; apart from a couple of 18 year olds with funny eyebrows in tracksuits (who really did show up) taking Instagram photos of their cars against the scenery, the place was pretty much empty. No sign of the famed and mysterious ice cream van that sometimes rolls past - but then, even ice cream men know a lost cause when they see one, and a freezing January morning in the middle of nowhere is an uphill sales struggle.
After capturing the photos and videos, and checking we hadn’t given Nia frostbite before her stage performance, we packed up and headed back towards Cardiff Bay. Passing through Ogmore Vale, we spotted a pretty arresting sight - an abandoned petrol station that looks like it’s been lifted straight out of the arid deserts of Breaking Bad and into a small damp town in Wales (because New Mexico it ain’t).
Scratched, peeling and pleasingly symmetrical, this old building was a lovely little find on our way back - a future shoot location, we reckon. It’s been left derelict since at least 2011 but it feels vintage, like 1970s Arizona - you can even feel the dry heat and smell the hot petrol.
Photos taken, inspiration seized, and future-potential location firmly committed to memory, we jumped back in the car to make our winding way home to the office - another shoot done. We’ll be back soon for the next adventure travels of burningred’s team of intrepid explorers!