The Path, Hudson Valley

I received the following email recently and thought I would share it and some thoughts that occurred to me after reading it…

I am an artist living in Ireland but originally from the Hudson Valley. I was wondering if it would be possible for me to use one of your photographs as a reference photo for a painting I would like to do. I would of course credit you and ad a link to your site as well. Could you let me know if this would be possible. Your photos are amazing! You are a true artist, Thank You…

First, I was deeply honored and humbled that she would want to use one of my images as inspiration for her art, and of course I said yes. But more importantly it reinforced the idea that technology has connected the world in an unprecedented and fantastic way that can serve as inspiration and benefit to us all. Sure there are the negative aspects to any powerful technology, but never in any other time would someone half way around the world be able to find me, connect with me and my work, and then share the results. I’ll share the final piece here when it’s done.

There is also something to be said for sharing and generosity in this age of limitless connections, via social media, the internet, Skype, etc. Your voice and vision is as valid as anyone else’s, your personal experiences unique and worth sharing if you truly have something to say. While it may seem at times that people worry most about privacy issues, there is also the ability and potential to share your vision and creativity in a way that allows the message to truly dictate the exposure. In days past, that was never the case, and your voice would be overpowered by the status quo.

Always on point

New York City is a street photographer’s dream come true with photo ops around every corner. I’m all about maximizing my time when traveling, and lucky for me there’s something to be said for the old adage… in a New York minute. Like most of my trips, I generally have a few images in mind that I plan on capturing, and then leave a bit of free time to allow for things unforeseen. The thing about street photography is you need to be quick to move and always be on the lookout for new photo opportunities. High traffic locations like NYC Central Park are great locations to maximize your time and efforts. In the matter of a few hours I had a chance to shoot a landscape, people, portraits, macro, etc.

Casscade Mtn, Adirondacks

Cascade Mtn fails on several levels, but mostly for me it lacks a clear path for the viewers eye to travel, which translates to a weak story. A lack of textural contrast makes the image rather busy, and the light in the background competes with the details in the foreground. I was experimenting with trying to omit the sky and horizon in order to create a lack of perspective, but it didn’t quite work out as envisioned.

As a workshop instructor, I work hard on trying to help students get beyond whatever is limiting their potential. Unfortunately the majority of reasons are due to mistakes and less often to failures. My goal is to reverse this and promote failure as a way to learning. Certainly I don’t want students strictly to fail as that would be rather frustrating and demoralizing in the long run. Who wants to come away from a workshop having only failed at their attempts?

 

The barn at Elmwood Farm in Hopkinton, Massachusetts.

Today I'm working on one of the dozen or so one-day conservation photo projects I get to work on every year. I'm shooting at a small, old family farm in Massachusetts that is in the process of being conserved both for the open space and to provide some community garden opportunities. Like I have to do for many of these projects, I drove about two hours in the dark this morning to arrive at the farm about 20 minutes before sunrise. It's not an ideal way to shoot, especially when you've never seen the place, whether in person or in photographs, but I love this kind of challenge and I think these types of photo projects have made me a better photographer.

 

Milkweed pod at Elmwood Farm in Hopkinton, Massachusetts.

I'm blessed to have the opportunity to shoot in some of New England's most iconic locations several times a year. Places like Acadia, the White Mountains, and Vermont. While I love shooting in these spots, it's easy to get lazy and just shoot the same dramatic landscapes that look good from year to year. However, shooting in a less impressive location like where I was this morning makes me work a lot harder and faster. I literally had about 10 minutes to take a quick look around, and then I had to start shooting (heck, today I wasn't even sure I was in the right place.) This place definitely isn't as dramatic as Monument Cove in Acadia or the summit of Mount Monroe in the White Mountains, so it takes some effort to quickly surmise the scene, break it down into those few elements that I feel define it, and then find a simple composition that works with the light at hand.

No doubt about it, outdoor photographers love to travel to new and exciting locations to capture the subjects they love. But truth of the matter is that most of us can’t be jetting all over the globe whenever we want. Most outdoor photographers I know are able to take one, two, or maybe three major trips a year. Sadly, I also know many photographers that only use their cameras when they are on one of these major trips.

But I would argue that those same photographers are missing one of the greatest locations available to them… their own backyard. Most of us live within a short drive of a local park or piece of undeveloped land where we could practice our craft. There are many benefits to working an area near your home. One of the greatest benefits is simply the ability to be out working more often. It is impossible to make great pictures if you are not in the field working. Another important benefit of working close to home is the ability to go out on a moment’s notice, say when the lighting is really nice, or during unique weather conditions. Also, you can get to know a smaller piece of land and its inhabitants more intimately. You can make sure you are there when the cardinals nest in that bush, or you can photograph that patch of wildflowers when they are at their peak.

Madison County Fair 4-H'ers

This young man was such a trooper; I could tell it was a bittersweet day for him as he explained with a little quiver in his voice how he raised his steer over the last year, feeding it several pounds of grain a day, and caring for it just to bring it to market at the county fair. You know he had been told not to get attached, but this young guy was brave enough to show he cared for his animal.

Prepping the sheep for sale

Anthony's Nose, Hudson Valley

“The challenge is to focus on the work, not on the fear that comes from doing the work.” – Seth Godin

The ability to accomplish anything in life is directly tied to your convictions and confidence. The talent lies not in some innate genetic disposition, but in learning to see past the minds own limited perspective. But there is another element that is often overlooked – generosity.

Many of my accomplishments were the result of throwing caution to the wind, trusting my instincts, and slowly learning that I could accomplish whatever I set my mind to – regardless of my fear. Here are two ideas to commit to heart – NEVER doubt yourself and think BIG – things I’ve done throughout my life. There will be significant setbacks and disappointments, but out of that growth and experience, the kind that really makes a positive difference.

BUT, I still struggled and wondered why it was so hard to do what I loved to do – photography. Then I started to think differently about my goals, my failures, and started focusing on what matters – doing the work. Now when I see others that have the ability but fail because of commitment or execution, it makes me frustrated, but more than that, it makes me want to help.

Much of what I have learned has come from asking for help. When I have asked for help from others, I accepted that help without reservation and didn’t let my ego interfere. This serves two purposes – it keeps me humble, and it reminds me to help others along their path. And nothing will bring you closer to achieving your goals than generosity. Sure it may take longer, and in our culture of instant gratification, this will not be a popular option. But the results will be so much more valuable and lasting.

I have a degree in music. I was a professional musician in and around New York City until 1989. In 1989, I played over 175 “dates” and made a considerable amount of money. 1989 was also when it was “Been there, done that” time in my life. That’s when I really moved into photography and used this medium to express myself, much like music.

To be a good enough musician to make it, one must practice, practice and then practice some more. You had to “know your Ax”, as we musicians used to say. The musicians local 802 directory in NYC was as big as a phone book. You had to be a good player to make it there. I still practice every day, but now with my camera.

Being just OK is not enough in music, or really any art form, to make it. In music, there are lots of great players at every turn, looking to take your job. All the silks you need come from wood-shedding and continued learning. Photography is no different.

As part of my photography workshops I constantly preach that we need to be able to get around our cameras, know each function button and what they do like the back of our hand, that way our right brain or creative side can function at capacity. This takes practice. Unfortunately, I see folk buying expensive equipment, myriads of software, the latest lenses etc., all looking for that “magic pill” that will make it all fall into place. Sorry folks, it does not work that way. It takes practice. I used to enjoy seeing the younger guys coming into the music store on 48^th Street in NYC trying out new mouthpieces, thinking that a new mouthpiece was the Holy Grail. When I play my trumpet today; I still use the old Vincent Bach,Mount Vernon 1C (for you trumpeters) that I’ve used since high school! Believe me, it isn’t the mouth piece. It’s not the new gear that we have available today. Its practice and honing your skills.

Zen Trees

Nothing has influenced the way I see in nature more than learning to work with light, and its many qualities. This seems to me like an endless process, one that I will never be able to complete in my lifetime. Yet each experience I have teaches me something profound, both mentally and emotionally.

Working with light is photography at its essence, where everything else is stripped away and all that is left is your vision and intuition about how to convey what you feel. I know, we all want to know more about settings, lenses, exposure, best use of everything we have in our camera bags. So at the end of the post I will share the details.

We are so distracted by the technology and complexity of digital photography these days, that this essence is missing most of the time. So here’s a useful exercise- put the magazines down, shut the computer off, put a camera around your neck with one lens (yes, leave the backpack home), and find your favorite spot in nature close to your home.

Then just look. (Feel free to substitute look with watch, see, feel, and breathe)

Observe how the light changes throughout the day, or in different weather conditions. Study not only what it does to the landscape around you, but how it affects you and your emotions. Notice how the same tree can evoke different feelings, and symbolize different ideas based on your own perceptions and experiences.

Nature photography is one of the toughest fields of photography to make a living in. I’ve found that for me being diversified is the key to making it. Having multiple streams of income keeps the money flowing. Those streams all take a lot of time to keep them flowing.

Marketing is number one, nobody knows you’re alive and in business unless you tell them. Shameless self promotion is something you have to get used to and you need to be the type of person that doesn’t mind this type of marketing as some would consider this bragging about yourself, but it’s just getting the word out that you’re in business and having some success at what you’re doing.

Until last year I had never enjoyed the thrill of making my own photographic prints.  When I needed a print, I’d send off a file (or slide) to whatever lab I was using at the time and they’d ship the print directly to me or my client.  With only a few exceptions my image viewing experience consisted of staring at a photo on a computer monitor.

Then, I bought an Epson Stylus Photo R2880 printer and everything changed.  If that sounds like a dramatic statement – it is.  It’s also quite true.  I started making my own prints.  Whenever I wanted.  On whatever paper I wanted.  It didn’t take long and I was addicted to the smell of fresh ink on photographic paper as a new print rolled off the printer, landing ever so gently in the catch tray.  Is there a difference between viewing an image on a computer monitor and holding an actual print, that you made, in your hands?  You’d better believe it.

As an artist I like to have complete control over my work from start to finish.  While it is true that you maintain a degree of control when you do all the post-processing on your photos before sending them off to a lab, you’re really not closing the loop.  The ultimate control comes when you conclude the image making process by crafting your own print.  Today’s inkjet printers are capable of producing professional quality archival prints that rival and, in my opinion, exceed those made using more traditional methods like Cibachromes.  They’re sharper, more detailed, just as colorful and can be made using a diversity of papers.

When I started in the art show business five years ago it was my first experience at selling nature photography, I thought that the art shows were a place where people came to find contemporary abstract art, so I loaded up my booth with abstracts and soft focus images.   It didn’t take long to figure out that the people that attended these shows were not interested in the abstract images.  What they were buying was the images that is called realism.  Everything in focus images of subjects that people could identify and relate to. Images of reality.

After about five or six shows, I pulled out most all of the abstracts and replaced them with realism.  My sales shot up dramatically.

So why do people like realism over abstract?  Not everyone likes realism, there are the people that like abstracts, but they are in the minority.  I’m in the minority because I tend to prefer the soft focus abstracts, or images with patterns, shapes, soft blurred colors.

One thing that I have learned from talking with the people who buy my images at the shows is that they usually have a connection to the subjects in the image.

Take this Lily of the Valley flower in the image above.  One lady buying this image told me that her grandmother had a patch of Lily of the Valley flowers in her yard, and every time she sees this flower she thinks of her grandmother.

Self Portrait - Hudson Valley

I recently received the following question from a reader, and thought I would share my answers here – hopefully they offer some insights to help those of you with similar questions.

“…I can’t capture an outstanding mountain or river view…I know a big part of that is that my camera is a pocket camera, and I don’t have real editing software, but I’m curious if you could give suggestions or tips on how to really catch a remarkable view.”

I have written here many times about the role of technology in photography, and as many of you know I am definitely of the opinion that it doesn’t really matter. Yes it certainly helps in technical aspects such as resolution, sharpness, clarity, and over all image quality. But in my opinion, the single most important aspect of any photograph is it’s ability to convey a story, and create an emotional response in the viewer.

I spent a while chatting it up with this charming guy with the help of an interpreter.

If there’s one thing I was reminded of while in Africa it was my need to “connect in order to create.” That connection may be as simple as an exchange of smiles between me and a young man stacking charcoal or as intricate as an interpreter explaining my every word. As a photographer, my curious nature places me in situations that can be hard to navigate and at times difficult to explain. I found throughout the years that being sincere, respectful and giving a big smile are key ingredients to successfully navigating language barriers.

Here are a few guidelines to try to follow when traveling abroad:

1. Be polite and respectful. Don’t be the ugly tourist with camera.
2. Consider a local guide when traveling abroad. S/he can really help break down the communication barrier.
3. Spend some time getting to know your subject before getting the camera out.
4. If you’re in a town for a few days consider going for a walk without your camera. Scouting an area and connecting with people/shopkeepers can pay dividends when you come back with your camera in tow.
5. Telling a story — Try to tell a story with your images. I avoid shots that simply portray poverty. Taking a keen interest in what a person does for a living or how he or she supports their family is what I’m interested in photographing.
6. Lastly, remember safety is key. I love street photography but it’s very easy to get caught up in a “moment.” Having a travel partner that can watch your back is just common sense.

A long focal length macro lens (150mm to 200mm) works best as you will be shooting from the bank of the creek and need that longer range to reach the subjects and fill the frame.

You will be shooting at low angles and to increase my depth of field to bring the whole design into sharp focus I use the higher f/stop numbers in the f/22 to f/32 ranges.

Look for designs that have a lot of interesting swirling lines

So let me ask you... do you think the quality of the magic show is based on the manufacturer and model of the wand?

Me neither.

This is not a new argument. Nevertheless, it is one that needs to surface from time-to-time, as we seem to lose sight of what’s important.

Golden & Rusted, Highway 11

As I was going through my own results last month to start cataloging, I came again to a series I photographed involving an old truck along Highway 11. I’ve driven along this road many times and never recall taking note of this old relic before. This trip, I certainly wasn’t expecting to find something like this where I found it. Why did I see it? Mainly because I was keeping an eye out for patches of good fall color, and there were some small trees with golden foliage in nice light, right behind the rusting hulk. By themselves, the trees would not have been worth stopping for. They were too small and isolated in an otherwise drab corner of a large, empty field. However the contrast of the fall foliage and old truck seemed much more interesting, so I marked the location and returned to it when coming back down the road the other way.

When mentioning the truck to someone else who knew the road quite well, it was also not a spot that he had really seen or photographed before. What was different the day I went by?

Sunrise at Dorr Point in Maine's Acadia National Park.

October 1st marked nine years since I quit working on Maggie’s Farm.  In my case, “Maggie’s Farm” was a cubicle at a large insurance company that was just the last of several identical cubicles I worked in over the course of eleven years as a software engineer.  I never liked this job, though it made me a decent income and the stress was relatively low.  I realize that software engineer wouldn’t make many lists detailing the crappiest jobs in the world – in fact, most would consider it a pretty cushy gig – but I was never satisfied.  I yearned to spend more time outside, and I felt there must be a way to channel my creative energy for something more important and beneficial to my mental health and the world in general.  I spent the last five years of this “career” begging for as much time off as possible to get out and make pictures, and I’m fortunate to have had managers and colleagues who supported my crazy photo obsession.  After 9/11, and with a new baby at home, it became obvious to me that it was time to quit the job that made me good money, but left me unhappy, and I took the plunge as a freelance photographer.

If you’re one of those people who feels stuck in a job, but you have loftier aspirations, all I can say is “Go For It!”  It will change your life. Don’t just take my word for it either.  I was inspired to write this post after reading “Five Ways Photography Changed My Life” by Moab, Utah based adventure and nature photographer Bret Edge. All of what Bret says in his post is applicable to me, and probably most other photographers as well.  I really encourage you to read it.