I vaguely remember the old days, back before I had an SLR and lenses and filters and a tripod. When I’d see a pretty scene, I'd whip out my point & shoot and take a picture before continuing on my way. I wasn’t creating art. Nope, I was just memorializing on film (yes, film) a scene or a moment that intrigued me. Nothing more, nothing less. Things are different today. I lug around a big D-SLR with several lenses, a few filters, a tripod and a bunch of other stuff that I use not to record simple memories, but to create something approaching “art”.
Over the years I’ve heard photographers say they are “taking pictures, making images, capturing a moment, shooting photos” and a billion other phrases that essentially mean the same thing. Or do they?
I can’t help but think that “taking pictures” or “shooting photos” is entirely different from what I and most other serious photographers do when we head out with our cameras. I like to think that I am creating art.
By it’s very nature, art is subjective. What I think is a gorgeous piece of artwork you may think is a bunch of squiggly lines on canvas. So, the images I create, that I consider art, you may consider just another pretty photo. Or, maybe it’s just another ugly photo. Only you can decide that. The point is this – I’m not just documenting a scene before me. I’m trying to create something that is elevated from being a mere snapshot to something that others may consider to art.
What’s the difference? Here’s what I think. Taking a picture doesn’t involve much, if any creativity, very little effort and no creative vision. You see a big mountain reflecting in an alpine lake, you walk up to the lakeshore, point your camera and click the shutter. Done.
Creating art works in a whole different way. Let’s assume the same situation: big mountain and pretty reflection in alpine lake. Maybe you’re there mid-day and the sky is clear blue. As you approach the lake, you’re analyzing the scene before you. Are there wildflowers lining the lake? Is there an interesting rock just off the shore? Maybe the water is so clear you can see rounded cobbles receding into the depths of the lake. Would any of it make an interesting foreground? You study the landscape to determine if the rising or setting sun would best illuminate the mountain peak, and whether or not there’s a ridge or a peak that will block that beautiful light. You walk up and down the lakeshore looking for the most dynamic position from which to photograph the scene. Will you need to use filters to control dynamic range or tame glare on the lake? Maybe the scene would look better in autumn, or summer. Perhaps you’ll have to keep coming back, over and over, to get just the right conditions with dramatic clouds over the peaks as golden light bathes the slopes and the perfectly calm lake catches a crystal clear reflection? These and many more are all considerations flying through our minds as we visualize the art we want to create at this magnificent location.
And that brings me to a conclusion and a question. Is the difference between “taking pictures” and “creating art” the act of visualizing an end result, then using your creativity and skills to make an image that fulfills your vision?
Until next time,
Bret
You can learn more about Bret, view his wonderful images, and read his blog here: Bret Edge Photography
The title of this post is a line that photographers hate to hear when people comment on their images. I hear this one a lot at my art shows. Due to the digital and photoshop age, people tend to think great images are produced by great equipment, when in fact low-end camera equipment can produce good quality images in the hands a of competent photographer. The opposite is true as well: top of the line equipment can easily shoot bad images by a careless photographer.
I ran across a video on fstoppers.com called, “The iPhone Fashion Shoot By Lee Morris”. Lee proves that a good photographer can produce good image even with a camera phone.
He attaches his camera phone to a tripod with velcro, sets up some lighting, and does a model shoot to prove his point: that it’s not all about the equipment.
Here is a quote from Lee Morris:
“A few weeks ago I did a full fashion photo shoot with my iPhone 3gs. I posted a few of the images and asked people to critique them (never exposing that they were shot on my cell phone). I couldn’t help but laugh when a few of our readers claimed that these were “the best images I had ever taken.” Nobody ever claimed that they were too grainy, too soft, or lacked detail”.
If you can do this well with a camera phone, just think how good your images will look with a entry level digital SLR!
Most importantly, get out and shoot. Your images will improve, no matter what your equipment.
You can visit Mike's blog and learn about his workshops here: Tiny Landscapes
Mike's eBooks are available in the OPG store here: Mike Moats
Juan Pons and I were recently acting as assistants on the sunset hula shoot at the Maui Photo Festival.
Great fun! Great dancers! Great light.
As usual, something interesting happened. After Juan and I set up the reflectors and diffusers to control the harsh light, I ask the crowd of maybe 40 photographers, “Can you guys see the difference in the light when using these accessories?”
Silence.
I asked again. Silence again.
Although I sometimes find it frustrating that no one answers (because I know the photographers can see the big difference), I am also understanding of the situation – because I know it’s not uncommon for people in crowds to remain quite when someone asks a question. Folks in crowds expect others to speak up for them. That point is mentioned in the book, The Tipping Point – which I recommend.
Also, some people are shy about asking a “stupid” question. On a workshop my friends, there is no such thing as a stupid question. Everyone is there to learn! And that includes the instructors.
Anway, you’ll get the most out of a workshop if you speak up, ask questions, offer suggestions, share your pictures on site - and stick like glue to the instructors. Keep in mind that the workshop leaders are good photographers and instructors – but they are usually not good mind readers.
Explore the light,
Rick
P.S. If you are interested in learning about lighting, my newest app, Light It!, is all about making professional quality people pictures using a flash and affordable lighting accessories – including reflectors and diffusers. For info and an intro video, click here.
Things have been busy! In the spare time from the day job, I’ve been doing some writing and catching up on cataloging. I’ve also been doing some location scouting and other prep work for the coming Light Matters Masterclass. (Spaces are still available for the class, by the way.)
While taking in the scenery around Aurum Lodge on a scouting visit, I was standing on a low rocky crest in late afternoon light, overlooking the stunning blue-green waters of Lake Abraham. I never tire of this color in the mountain lakes… far more than clear water, this glacial coloring seems to me like the chromatic embodiment of freshness and purity.
I was looking down at my shadow dancing in the ripples of the lake waters, and thought of the saying that I've heard and read from many photographers — “light illuminates, shadow defines.” What if the shadow doesn’t just define the subject, but is the whole subject? I took a position on a craggy stretch of the rocks, pulled out my pocket camera (a Panasonic LX3), and captured an image of my shadow self over the water. Pay attention to shadows… including your own!
Cherry Mountain and the distant Presidential Range as seen from Pondicherry National Wildlife Refuge in New Hampshire's White Mountains.
I am currently spending a few days in New Hampshire's White Mountains thanks to a couple of speaking engagements. The White Mountains are the place where I became hooked on nature photography 20 years ago. Marcy and I had just moved to Boston and for some reason we decided to give hiking a try even though it wasn't something either one of us grew up with. I still remember our first two hikes like they were yesterday – an easy valley walk into Zealand Falls followed the next day by an above-treeline adventure on Mount Jefferson. To say these hikes changed our lives is a bit of an understatement. At the time, we lived and worked in the city, Marcy in human resources and me in computer programming. Going to live music clubs and Fenway Park were our usual forms of entertainment, but after glimpsing the vast Pemgiwasset Wilderness and the world of glacial cirques and alpine wildflowers so close to home, we quickly converted to weekend backpackers and peak baggers. Within a year, I met Galen Rowell at a book signing and I suddenly knew I had a new calling in life. It took another decade to hone my skills and shake the chains of the programming cubicle, but it was worth the wait.
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"The Whites" were easily my biggest inspiration when I became a photographer and most of my favorite images from my first ten years of shooting come from there. At first, my main goal was to make the best "calendar" style images I could, but as I learned of the history of the region I became more interested in conservation. In the second half of the 19th century, the White Mountains became one of the premier tourist destinations in America, as the region became known through the paintings of Hudson River School painters like Thomas Cole and writers like Nathaniel Hawthorne. Ironically, by the early 20th century, the Whites were also the scene of some of the most unsustainable logging practices in the country. Through the efforts of groups led by the Society for the Protection of New Hampshire Forests, the Weeks Act was passed in 1911, establishing the national forest system east of the Mississippi and then the White Mountain National Forest. Our book, White Mountain Wilderness, tells the story of the "rewilding" of the region that followed.
My experiences in the White Mountains led to my decision to focus my photography efforts on conservation in New England, and I have since worked on close to 100 land conservation projects in the region since I left that cubicle job. Ironically, that means the bulk of my time is spent in places other then the White Mountains, as these projects primarily involve unprotected private lands outside of the Whites, so it is great to have times like this weekend to get a few moments to shoot familiar landscapes like the opening shot in this post from Pondicherry National Wildlife Refuge. While nature photographers as a group like to explore and shoot in new and exotic landscapes, I find it is equally important to have favorite places you can revisit time and time again. This gives you the opportunity to see a place in different lighting conditions and seasons, and as you get to know a place you inevitably start to see the place in new ways. I also find that going back to the same place over and over results in a more relaxed approach. Last Friday night at Pondicherry (a place I've shot probably a dozen times), I felt no pressure to produce because I already have plenty of Pondicherry images in my files. This freed me from the need to produce a bunch of images that describe every inch of the place and instead I could focus on just looking for one or two nice images if the light worked out. (It also allowed me to not regret missing some photo ops while I sat for an hour hoping the black bear I saw ahead on the trail would return – he didn't.)
Big Cherry Pond, Pondicherry National Wildlife Refugre in New Hampshire's White Mountains.
I find that shooting in familiar places is a necessary diversion from other work and the best place to practice new techniques that you can then use during those trips to new places or when on assignment. Nailing down technique when there's no pressure can make or break a photo shoot in a new location when you have limited time. Soon, I'm heading to the Lake Sunapee region of New Hampshire for a one day assignment on a property I've never been to before. Having tricks in my bag that I know how to execute ahead of time gives me the confidence that I'll do a decent job as long as the weather cooperates.
Until next time…
-Jerry
Find out more about Jerry at his website, and follow him on Twitter at @jerrymonkman
Editors note: We are proud to welcome Royce Howland to the OPG blog! Hailing from Calgary, Alberta, Royce is a consultant in the IT industry and is an accomplished wildlife and landscape photographer. Look for more articles from Royce soon in the areas of HDR and the digital darkroom. You can learn more about Royce and view his spectacular images at his website: Vivid Aspect Photography.
A joke about being self-employed goes like this — "Thank God it’s Friday! Only two more working days until Monday." Another one was pointed out to me by a friend — "Being self-employed, you get to work half-days. And you even get to choose which 12 hours you work!" Ha ha, only serious. As somebody with a non-photography day job and doing photography on the side, I don't always get to spend my time the way I would choose. Two serious pursuits to fit into each week, each with challenging and necessary ways to spend a lot of time… well, there are only so many hours. It's easy to get bogged down in the work of it all. But it's also important to preserve some time to focus on creativity.
On a recent weekend, I had a ton of work to accomplish and was busily chipping away at it as one of a series of powerful storm systems blew through Calgary. After taking a break to visit family on Sunday evening, on the drive home my wife and I watched huge cloud formations surrounding the city. I was tired, it was getting late, I still had more work to do, and so I figured I’d lost yet another chance to photograph some incredible stormy weather. But when we got home, I decided to set my work aside and try to do some image making given the opportunity created by the weather.
I grabbed my camera, threw some gear in the car, and drove east towards Shepard as fast as I reasonably could. I was chasing what looked like a super cell, trying to get to a useful location out in the prairie farm areas east of the big city, where I could find some kind of view. Unfortunately, the storm cell was fleeing away from me to the southeast at a pretty fast rate, and into a zone where I could see it was losing the light. Suddenly, as I wove my way through some back roads, I came across a field of canola in full bloom on the north side of the road. It was the only crop I saw this far developed, and due north of it was one of the other thunderheads that was putting on its own show of strength. Yee-haw!
There were no foreground objects of interest, but who cares — a field and big sky is the essential prairie setting. I screeched to a halt, grabbed the tripod and camera, and ran across the road in the growing gloom to set up and make a few exposures. Yes! I knew I was capturing something good. I felt energized again, gaining the strength to swat at the trillions of mosquitoes that descended upon me, out for blood. I even maintained the presence of mind to consider composition possibilities, and framed both vertical and horizontal orientations that would be useful for different layouts. This cloud formation was the only one of all in view to maintain light right up to the end. My gamble had paid off. Sometimes it’s better to be lucky than good, but what I have learned is that if I'm persistent I can also make my own luck.
When I could tolerate the vicious mozzie attacks no more, I packed up and headed home. My total time for storm chasing ended up being only about two hours; not a bad diversion! Another couple of hours of work still awaited me that night… and of course now I had the new task of developing my storm images, too. But hey, cowboy up — it’s only sleep.
If you've never used a modular system for carrying your camera gear, check out this video courtesy of Think Tank Photo and presented by photographer, Photoshop author, trainer and guru of digitalmastery.com Ben Wilmore. Ben explains how you can become more efficient, lighten your load and make taking photos while on the go, much easier. Sweet!
A couple rock climbing near the top of Cathedral Ledge. Echo Lake State Park in North Conway, New Hampshire. White Mountains.
This last April I attended the American Society of Picture Professionals’ reinvention weekend in Boston, and the major theme was finding ways for those working in the picture industry to keep working while the landscape of the industry is rapidly changing. Both stock and assignment prices have been deteriorating for years, if not decades, challenging both stock agencies and photographers to change business tactics in order to survive. It’s no secret what is causing the decline in prices – digital technology. To some extent, digital cameras have leveled the playing field on the content creation side of things. More importantly, digital distribution has drastically reduced the cost of selling images. On the stock side of the business, digital distribution (first in the form of royalty-free CDs, then with the advent of microstock) has enabled stock companies to be profitable without charging large rights-managed fees as the administrative costs of managing a large stock library have been drastically reduced due to digital image management and distribution. Lower stock prices have also led to lower assignment fees, both on the commercial and editorial side of the business, though to a greater extent in the editorial world, as newspapers and magazines are downsizing and going out of business.
I’m not a doom and gloom kind of guy, but it’s hard to ignore the trends in the industry. As a nature and adventure photographer and editorial shooter, my big question going into the ASPP conference was this, “Is there a future for the solo nature photographer or photojournalist?” The romantic image of the lone wolf photographer spending weeks in the field funding his or her work through the sale of stock and assignment fees is definitely under assault. After the conference, I got the sense that the answer to my question is “probably not,” though the experts seemed to be unsure how the marketplace will shake out. I’m cautiously optimistic, but I’m pretty sure the “lone wolf” approach is dying out and that the new paradigm is going to be collaboration – with other photographers and creators, with NGOs, with foundations, and so on.
I’ve collaborated with NGOs for most of my career, both for funding and for discovering the conservation stories that are relevant and newsworthy. This collaboration has definitely kept my business afloat during the recession, but it is clear to me that I need to take this idea to a higher level by working with other photographers and other creators to create feature-rich, story-driven multimedia content. This is a big change from how I usually work (I rarely even work with an assistant) but it is a way of working that I’m embracing and excited about.
Why am I excited that this approach can work? Simply because of the success stories that are emerging in the midst of this downturn in the industry. At the ASPP conference, we learned that this collaborative approach is already working from speakers like Brian Storm, whose company MediaStorm is leading the way in partnering photographers with other professionals to create powerful, multi-media stories. If you haven’t yet seen what MediaStorm is creating, then you haven’t seen the future of photojournalism. We also learned about VII, a photo agency where some of the world’s best photojournalists work together to create equally powerful multi-media stories. Both companies use a new model that uses multiple content creators working together to create stories that the big media companies won’t spend the money for. My impression is that no one is getting rich, but these companies are giving photojournalists the opportunity to do what they originally set out to do in their careers – tell important stories. These stories are getting told in new and on non-traditional ways – through print, multi-media, exhibits, etc. Funding these projects requires a new model as well. No longer are the magazines, newspapers, and big news organizations footing the bill. Instead, money comes from a diversity of places: NGOs, foundations, media companies, print sales, book sales, etc. Photographers need to pay attention to this new model. The old way of paying the bills with assignment fees and residual stock income is just getting harder and harder to do.
Conservation photographers like myself should also check out the work of the International League of Conservation Photographers. ILCP is setting the bar very high for collaborative conservation photography projects with their Rapid Assessment Visual Expeditions. These R.A.V.E.s are intense, short-term photo projects where a group of the world’s best nature photographers descend on a location and quickly create a body of work that is used to bring about environmental change. Another collaborative conservation photo project seeing great success is Stephan Widstrand’s Wild Wonders of Europe, and the newly launched Meet Your Neighbours (led by Niall Benvie and Clay Bolt) project seems destined for similar success.
So…if you’re a photographer, are you willing and ready to change?
Much as been written on the web about waiting years and years for all the elements in a scene to come together for a “once-in-a-lifetime shot.”
That’s all well and good, and sometimes it’s true.
But sometimes a good shot is just dumb luck. Here is an example.
In the above photograph, the five subjects are completely isolated, the side lighting is wonderful, the reflection is perfect, the background is effective in adding to the “sense of place” of the image, the dog adds an extra element of interest, and the exposure is good.
I even like the way the cowboy has his leg slightly lifted, and the way we can see the cowgirl’s silhouette.
Now, I could say that I waited years for a picture like this one. But in fact, it was just a dumb luck shot.
You see, I was co-teaching a workshop in Oregon. One night during dinner, one of the participants said, “Hey, look out the window, there is a great shot.”
We all stopped chowing down, grabbed our cameras, walked out on the porch, grabbed a shot, and went back to eating our pork and beans.
This is one of my favorite dumb luck shots, and dumb luck stories – once of many such stories.
The thing about dumb luck, however, is this: you have to be prepared for when those dumb luck moments present themselves to you. Keeping your camera handy, and knowing how to use it, increases your luck. So does understanding light, compensation, and lenses.
Below is another dumb luck shot. I was just in the right place (Mongolia) at the right time (festival) in the right conditions (overcast and dusty) and in the right location.
With that same sharp wit, Paul has produced another Top Ten list:
This list compiles the top ten things that other photographers have said to him that I’ve found to be annoying. And, the more often I’ve heard something the more annoying it tends to be. That’s just the way I am.
If you’re a photographer who is easily offended or you can’t take a little bit of sarcasm, please don’t read any further. I don’t want your delicate sensibilities to be offended!
With that out of the way, presented in traditional count-down order, here are today’s Top Ten Annoying Things that Photographers Say to Each Other.
10. What settings are you shooting at?
Red-necked Grebe sitting on a nest
Get a group of photographers together shooting the same subject and invariably one of them will ask one or more of the others this question. I believe it stems from a sense of insecurity where a less than confident photographer is worried that he’ll miss the shot that everyone else got. Why not just ask me to send you my shots?
In a learning situation this could be a useful question although differences in equipment can make the answer moot. But, in a group of peers, this question should never be uttered.
9. Did you see my shots in National Geographic?
Is there any photographer who doesn’t want to be published in National Geographic? Why risk a severe beating by flaunting your awesomeness?
8. Dude! Dude! You’re in my shot!
And your feet are nailed to the ground? Seriously? Who calls someone “dude” in the first place? Seriously!
7. I’m a Fine Art photographer.
Fall morning at a beaver pond
If someone can help me understand the difference between a “Fine Art” photographer and a portrait, wedding, landscape, photojournalist, sports or wildlife photographer, I might rescind this item, but the whole term strikes me as a bit pretentious.
6. The new K-tel Autocapture 5000 looks good, but I noticed there’s noise in the shadows at ISO 102400.
Maybe the pixel peeping will never quit, but do we have to examine each and every pixel of every new camera to find a flaw only evident at billboard sized prints? Besides photographers more obsessed with pixels than photos, who really cares?
5. …in these tough economic times…
Ruddy Duck displaying on a lake
Okay, this one isn’t specific to photographers, but I’m sick of hearing it. I propose that the world set up a giant swear jar. Every time someone utters the phrase ”…in these tough economic times…” they have to put one US dollar into the jar. Not only will this reduce the use of this annoying phrase but the funds could be used to solve the current economic crisis.
4. All of my work is available as limited edition Giclée prints.
So your printer sprays droplets of ink at the paper? Wow! That’s exactly what my inkjet printer does.
Giclée is French don’t ‘cha know. It’s pronounced “zhee-clay” and it sounds pretentious. IMHO.
3. Oh that? I can fix that later in Photoshop.
Black Bear cub trying to get to the bottom of things
Not only is it annoying to hear, it is the calling card of a lazy photographer.
2. Oh, you’ve got the K-tel Autocapture 3000? I just got the K-tel Autocapture 3000 Mark II.
And that makes you a better photographer how? Oh, that’s right–the Mark II finally introduces the “no sucky photos” setting, whereby the camera will simply not allow the creation of a poor photograph.
If so, there are some people I know that would think their K-tel Autocapture 3000 Mark II was broken when it never let them take a picture again!
1. Dude! Did you get this shot?
Pair of goslings swimming in a pond
This is a common question from the serial chimper. You know, the person you’re out shooting with who is continually chimping their images (looking at the LCD and then pointing and saying ”ooh, ooh, ooh” when they see something they like). They’ll call out when they find a photograph they think is great and you might have missed. And, don’t call me dude!
I’m betting that if you’re a photographer who has spent any time photographing around other photographers that you’ve got a few of your own sayings to contribute. Go ahead. It’s very cathartic!
Taking Pictures vs. Creating Art
Friday, October 8th, 2010I vaguely remember the old days, back before I had an SLR and lenses and filters and a tripod. When I’d see a pretty scene, I'd whip out my point & shoot and take a picture before continuing on my way. I wasn’t creating art. Nope, I was just memorializing on film (yes, film) a scene or a moment that intrigued me. Nothing more, nothing less. Things are different today. I lug around a big D-SLR with several lenses, a few filters, a tripod and a bunch of other stuff that I use not to record simple memories, but to create something approaching “art”.
Over the years I’ve heard photographers say they are “taking pictures, making images, capturing a moment, shooting photos” and a billion other phrases that essentially mean the same thing. Or do they?
I can’t help but think that “taking pictures” or “shooting photos” is entirely different from what I and most other serious photographers do when we head out with our cameras. I like to think that I am creating art.
By it’s very nature, art is subjective. What I think is a gorgeous piece of artwork you may think is a bunch of squiggly lines on canvas. So, the images I create, that I consider art, you may consider just another pretty photo. Or, maybe it’s just another ugly photo. Only you can decide that. The point is this – I’m not just documenting a scene before me. I’m trying to create something that is elevated from being a mere snapshot to something that others may consider to art.
What’s the difference? Here’s what I think. Taking a picture doesn’t involve much, if any creativity, very little effort and no creative vision. You see a big mountain reflecting in an alpine lake, you walk up to the lakeshore, point your camera and click the shutter. Done.
Creating art works in a whole different way. Let’s assume the same situation: big mountain and pretty reflection in alpine lake. Maybe you’re there mid-day and the sky is clear blue. As you approach the lake, you’re analyzing the scene before you. Are there wildflowers lining the lake? Is there an interesting rock just off the shore? Maybe the water is so clear you can see rounded cobbles receding into the depths of the lake. Would any of it make an interesting foreground? You study the landscape to determine if the rising or setting sun would best illuminate the mountain peak, and whether or not there’s a ridge or a peak that will block that beautiful light. You walk up and down the lakeshore looking for the most dynamic position from which to photograph the scene. Will you need to use filters to control dynamic range or tame glare on the lake? Maybe the scene would look better in autumn, or summer. Perhaps you’ll have to keep coming back, over and over, to get just the right conditions with dramatic clouds over the peaks as golden light bathes the slopes and the perfectly calm lake catches a crystal clear reflection? These and many more are all considerations flying through our minds as we visualize the art we want to create at this magnificent location.
And that brings me to a conclusion and a question. Is the difference between “taking pictures” and “creating art” the act of visualizing an end result, then using your creativity and skills to make an image that fulfills your vision?
Until next time,
Bret
You can learn more about Bret, view his wonderful images, and read his blog here: Bret Edge Photography
You can find out more about Bret's workshops here: Moab Photo Workshops
Tags: Art, Bret Edge, Creativity
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