Posts Tagged ‘Bret Edge’

2011 – My Year in Photos by Bret Edge

Wednesday, February 1st, 2012

Here we are in 2012. Already. It doesn’t seem like a year ago that we ushered in 2011, but calendars don’t lie.  2011 was an interesting year for me.  I spent more time in the office building my business and less time in the field doing what we all love to do – photography.  As I culled through images made in the past year it quickly became evident that I didn’t get out enough.  I live in Moab, for God’s sake.  Arches and Canyonlands are in my backyard.  There is no legitimate excuse to not be out exploring this beautiful landscape more often.  So, in 2012, I resolve to do just that.  I’ll spend more time making images and less time marketing them.  Not too much less, because I do still need to pay the bills.

Every year I squeeze in a few big trips, consisting of a couple weeks each, to locations throughout the western United States.  Looking back on all the photos from our 2011 adventures brought back some wonderful memories.  We celebrated my son Jackson’s second birthday at a campground in Death Valley, ate dinner by a campfire on the beach in Cape Kiwanda, summited a 14′er in Colorado (Jackson’s first!) and spent Thanksgiving week exploring Valley of Fire in Nevada.  No doubt, I am a lucky man.

The images I’ve chosen to share as my favorites aren’t necessarily my best.  One photo was five years in the making, another has tremendous emotional appeal, a couple I just really like and some were made in a place I’m now obsessed with and can’t wait to visit again.  If I were assembling a 2011 portfolio to present to an art buyer only a couple of these would make the cut.  The important thing is that these images mean something to me.  I hope you enjoy viewing them as much as I enjoyed making them.

Slot Canyon & River Rock, Nevada

I found this slot canyon by chance while wandering around Valley of Fire State Park one morning following a sunrise shoot.  I was struck by the contrast of warm, colorful sandstone walls and the cool blue river rock in the mud on the canyon floor as well as the three dimensional feeling created by the wide angle lens and striations in the rock.  It’s a short canyon but easily one of the prettiest I’ve ever seen.

Wildflowers and Storm Clouds in American Basin, Colorado

American Basin may be over-photographed but it’s still one of my all-time favorite alpine locations.  The summer wildflower display is obnoxious in a very good way.  We camped not ten minutes from where this image was made, in a tent on the roof of my FJ Cruiser.  The next morning we summited Handies Peak with my son, Jackson.  He was 2. And he knocked off a 14′er.  Okay, so I carried him but still, how cool is that?

Storm Clouds Over Rock Point, Colorado

Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park plays second fiddle to the nearby San Juan Mountains, which means you’re less likely to find yourself in a crowd.  We visited the park for the first time in 2011 and I became enamored with the sheer beauty and ruggedness of the canyon.  On this afternoon a breaking storm created dynamic conditions for photography.  I was in the right place at the right time when a sliver of light shone through clouds on to the foreground ridge, lasting only a minute or two.  These ethereal moments in nature are what we photographers are privileged to witness while the rest of mankind seeks shelter from the storm.

Pothole and Sandstone Buttes at Sunset, Utah

Made semi-famous by Moab photographer Tom Till, this large pothole with an impressive view of a slickrock wonderland has been on my list of places to photograph since moving to the area almost six years ago.  It took a while to find it and even longer to wait for the right conditions (great light, good clouds, pothole full of water).  In 2011 everything came together and I was able to make the image that had nagged at me for years.

Haystack Rock from McPhillips Beach, Oregon

The charming little town of Pacific City is home to Cape Kiwanda State Park and McPhillips Beach, sort of a local’s beach not commonly visited by the throngs of summer tourists.  We discovered it by accident on our trip along the coast last June.  Nearly vacant, it’s a beautiful little beach with some interesting basalt (I think?) rock formations that nicely frame Haystack Rock in the distance.  I spent a couple hours photographing here before retiring to hang out with my family, running away from incoming waves and finally, dinner on the sand next to a roaring bonfire.  It couldn’t have been a more perfect end to a more perfect day.

Cottonwood Trunks and Evergreens, Wyoming

I made this image during a short break while leading a workshop in the Tetons last autumn.  Cottonwood trees have such beautifully textured trunks and their autumn leaves rival those of the stately aspen with regard to color intensity.  Here I loved how the darker evergreen trees contrasts with the autumn grasses & leaves, and the bold patterns of the cottonwood trunks.

Sunrise Sky and Rock of Gibraltar II, Nevada

I’m having an affair. There, I said it. I’m in love with Valley of Fire State Park in Nevada. I can’t get enough of the place.  Luckily, my wife knows and even approves of this affair.  On our last visit we hiked out to Fire Wave for sunset.  While I was impressed with Fire Wave I was more taken by the Rock of Gibraltar and this massive expanse of wonderfully striated sandstone.  I came back for sunrise the next morning.  You can imagine my excitement when the sky exploded in color right at sunrise.  Of all the images I made in 2011 this one may well be my absolute favorite.

The Sunflower Experiment, Utah

The Scott Matheson Wetlands Preserve just outside Moab is a quiet little sanctuary that seems to catch on fire all too often.  The last wildfire that ripped through was the most devastating.  Driving by one day I noticed thousands of colorful wildflowers mixed in among the charred trunks.  The next day I returned with my camera and made several images of the sunflowers.  This was my favorite as it is something entirely different from my typical photography.  It was an experiment and I was thrilled that it worked out so well.

American Basin Hiker II, Colorado

I didn’t do much adventure photography in 2011.  No idea why, but I’ve resolved to do a lot more of it in 2012.  I made this image en route to the summit of Handies Peak in Colorado’s San Juan Mountains.  My son Jackson was in a backpack on my back as I photographed Melissa crossing a creek below a beautiful sky and craggy peaks.  There’s nothing I enjoy more than exploring the outdoors with my family and this image brings back wonderful memories of seeing Jackson on the summit of his first 14′er!

Storm Light at the Fiery Furnace, Utah

One stormy afternoon I took a chance and headed out to a view I’d discovered that overlooks the fins of the Fiery Furnace, Castle Valley and the distant La Sal Mountains.  One of three things would happen: I’d get struck by lightning and the whole afternoon would be screwed, the storm would rage on and sunset would be a bust, or it would be epic.  Lucky for me, it was epic.  It was cold and windy and every once in a while a passing cloud released a torrent of horizontal rain.  But right at sunset, the clouds parted and the sweetest storm light I’ve seen fell on the landscape before me.  It was an amazing day to be alive!

Three Sisters Sunset, Utah

Assignments are few and far between these days, at least for me.  Early in 2011 I was hired by Utah State Parks to photograph Goblin Valley State Park and the surrounding area for a guidebook they were developing.  GVSP is a alien landscape, a valley filled with thousands of little hoodoos that have, in fact, stood in for Mars in several movies.  One of the most famous features, the Three Sisters, sprout from the surrounding landscape.  I was incredibly fortunate to witness a glorious sunset behind the Three Sisters during my time in the park.


Breaking Storm Over Kane Creek Canyon, Utah

Last year I decided to create a new photo tour titled Undiscovered Moab.  As the name implies, the tour will take us to locations that are rarely, if ever, photographed.  I’ve been spending a lot of time four wheeling and hiking to remote locations while scouting for the upcoming Undiscovered Moab tour (April 21-22, 2012!).  On this afternoon a storm was breaking over Kane Creek Canyon, flooding the valley with dramatic storm light below a sky filled with interesting clouds.  It was awesome to stand on the canyon rim in complete silence while watching this scene unfold before me.

Virga Above the Bonneville Desert, Utah

En route to Death Valley last March, my son informed us that he had to poop.  When a 2 year old has to poop you don’t have time to drive around looking for a bathroom.  We pulled off to the side of the interstate and Jackson did his business.  When he finished I asked Melissa if I could have a few minutes to make an image of the impending storm unleashing hell on the distant mountains.  Thanks to Jackson and Melissa I was able to make this image, my favorite from the entire trip, with semi’s flying by just a few feet away.

And there you have it, my favorite thirteen images from 2011.  If you want to see even more “Best of 2011″ images from some of my favorite photographers, check out “A Compilation of My Favorite “Best of 2011″ Image Collections“.

Read more about Bret and get info on his workshops here.

Snapshot: The Road and a Thunderhead

Thursday, January 12th, 2012

Last summer I took a three day motorcycle trip throughout southern Utah.  I always carry my 5D Mark II, tripod and an assortment of lenses along with my amazing Canon S95, which resides in a pocket in my jacket for easy access.  Riding a motorcycle opens your eyes and lets you see things you’d never see in a cage, er…car.  You’re not isolated from the environment in a neat little cocoon – you’re in it, surrounded by it, part of it.  When it’s hot, you’re hot.  When it’s raining, you’re wet.  You feel the wind and the heat and the sand in your teeth.  It’s an experience unlike any other.

Making images with the 5D Mark II requires digging it out of the tankbag, taking off gloves and helmet, finding a place to safely park the bike and the whole process requires more time and effort than I’m usually willing to expend.  All this means I end up using the S95 90% of the time.  Such is the case with the photo above.

Having just fueled up at Hite, where only 7 years ago Lake Powell was nothing more than rock hard cracked mud, I was on the road north to the Notom-Bullfrom Road.  I’d been rained on in the Abajo Mountains and it looked as though I were in for another dousing.  As I rode I watched this cloud grow in height, eventually blocking out the sun.  Suddenly, rays of light burst from behind the cloud.  I knew it wouldn’t last long and there was no hope of photographing it with the big camera.  I quickly pulled to the side of the road and, without even stepping off my bike, I quickly photographed this dramatic scene with my trusty S95.  It was mid-day light and I knew right away I’d be converting it to black and white.  Sure, the image has some flaws.  The clouds are totally blown out in areas and I should have included more room at the bottom of the frame.  But, I wouldn’t have an image to share with you if I had taken the time to set up the 5D2.  This moment lasted only a few seconds.  The show would have been all over before I even had the 5D2 out of the bag.

As photographers we get so accustomed to striving for perfection that I’m afraid we may occasionally forget why we’re out there.  We enjoy nature, we live for light and we love “the moment”.  Some times we ought to leave the big camera in the bag.

For those who might be interested in this sort of stuff, here are the technicals: Photographed in JPEG (yes, JPEG), imported to Lightroom for initial editing and then converted to black and white using Nik Silver Efex Pro 2.  Clouds and sun rays enhanced using Nik Color Efex Pro Tonal Contrast filter (read more about using Color Efex Pro to enhance skies here). That’s it – simple and quick.

Read more about Bret and get info on his workshops here.

In Memory of “The Tree”

Thursday, October 13th, 2011

Nothing in nature is permanent and I know that.  Still, when I arrived at Skyline Arch on Tuesday to introduce some guided clients to my favorite spooky old tree in the entire Moab area, my heart sank.  Lying on the ground next to the trail was The Tree.  It wasn’t standing defiantly against the ages, its weathered limbs guarding access to Skyline Arch.  No, it was on its side, clearly dragged off the trail with broken branches scattered about the red dirt like bleached, gray bones.  No dignity, no respect at all.

I don’t know what I expected to happen to The Tree when its roots no longer dug deep enough into the earth to anchor it securely against the elements.  Frankly, I don’t think I ever imagined I would live to see it fall.  Over the years, The Tree and I developed a relationship.  I’d show up once in a while with the goal of creating an incredible image and The Tree would laugh at me, sending me away dejected each time.  The photo above is my best attempt at a portrait of this beautiful but curmudgeonly old companion.  Not bad, but certainly not the exquisite piece of art I’d envisioned.

Last fall I took my wife and son to visit The Tree.  We brought a picnic dinner, which we ate right underneath its curious watch.  I brought my camera and tripod, hoping The Tree would be so kind as to give me a break.  I enjoyed the process of setting up a composition with the help of my son, who insisted on pressing the shutter button for me.  I moved left, right, back and forward.  I zoomed in, I zoomed out.  I got down low and up high. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Nothing. The Tree wasn’t having any of my and my son’s monkey business.

Not long ago I decided to photograph The Tree at night.  I would arrive before sunset, set up the shot, and wait for darkness to come.  Then, I would use a flash to illuminate the tree during a long exposure that would reveal a million stars sparkling in the night sky.  Surely, that would be the image I’d desired for so long.  As is all too often the case, life got in the way and I never made it out to Skyline Arch.  I’ll never know whether I’d have been successful.  Most likely, I’d have walked away crestfallen with the The Tree snickering behind my back as I retreated to the comfort of my truck.

I’ll miss The Tree.  I won’t know what might have been.  But therein lies a lesson that goes much deeper than simply making a photograph: nothing lasts forever and it’s up to us to make sure we don’t put off doing something today we may not be able to do tomorrow.  I think this fall my family and I will pack up a picnic dinner and head out to Skyline Arch, where we’ll sit with the remains of The Tree and reminisce about the most beautiful old tree in all of Moab.

RIP – The Tree: ???? to 2011

Read more about Bret and get info on his workshops here.

Pixels Vs. Prints

Thursday, June 9th, 2011

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.

While difficult to quantify, there is a certain pleasure and satisfaction in handling an honest to God hand-crafted print.  It is a tactile experience.  You feel the weight of the paper, the texture.  Unseen details emerge.  Perhaps you feel pride in the knowledge that the print you are holding was born of your own creativity, and that without your vision and skills it would cease to exist.  I get none of this from viewing an image on a computer monitor.

I’ve also noticed that people react differently when viewing my photographs in print.  On the computer (or iPad), they quickly flick through the images.  When I hand over my portfolio book I’ve noticed that they linger on each image.  They don’t madly flip from one page to the next.  Do people, even non-photographers, appreciate a fine art print more than they do an image on a screen?  It would seem so.

What is your experience with pixels vs. prints?

Learn more about Bret, view his images, scout his workshops and read his blog here.

Using Long Lenses to Create Dynamic Landscape Photographs

Thursday, April 21st, 2011

Pick up most any coffee table book featuring landscape photography and you’ll likely be confronted with image after image of sweeping vistas and vast panoramas. Most of the images are probably photographed using a wide angle to moderate focal length lens. What you won’t see are a bunch of photos created with a telephoto lens.


six-aspens-1210

Long lens landscape photography isn’t as easy nor is it as natural as using a wide angle lens to compose a landscape photograph. Our eyes don’t see at 200, 300 or even 400mm. Normal human vision is similar to the field of view of a 50mm lens. The most challenging aspect of using a telephoto lens to photograph landscapes is learning to see like a telephoto lens. Your goal is to extract small, interesting sections from a much larger landscape. As if that isn’t difficult enough to do with the naked eye, a telephoto lens will also dramatically compress the distance between foreground and background elements. Factor in the technical challenges of working with a long lens and you might be tempted to just throw in the towel. Don’t do it! Here’s why.

My most rewarding images are those I’ve made with my venerable 100-400mm lens. It isn’t the sharpest lens in the stable but it’s certainly one of my favorites, especially in autumn when intimate landscapes abound. Colorful aspens, cottonwoods and oaks…oh my! It’s worth noting that some of my most popular fine art prints are images I created using a long lens.

Another benefit of photographing the landscape through a telephoto lens is that the probability of creating a truly unique image skyrockets. Imagine this: you’re standing along the shore of Maroon Lake on an autumn weekend at sunrise along with 50 other photographers. What are the odds that all 50 of you are going to hone in on the exact same section of aspen covered hillside with your 300mm lens? I say, not at all likely.

So, now that you know why long lens landscape photography is so enticing let’s discuss a few things to help you tackle this fun and rewarding style of photography. Let’s begin with an obvious one – the lens. As mentioned, I use the Canon 100-400mm zoom lens often and with great zeal. It’s a truly amazing focal length range that allows you to reach way out there and bring home a killer image. Perhaps a more popular option is the 70-200mm lens offered by most camera manufacturers. Canon’s new 70-300mm lens has received high marks for image quality and will soon replace my aging 100-400mm lens.  Bottom line: whatever you’ve got that extends beyond 100mm will work.  (Update: I’ve since sold the 100-400mm lens and replaced it with the new 70-300mm.  Results thus far are impressive.  Watch for a full review of this lens in a few months after I’ve had plenty of time to get to know it’s good and bad sides.)

Composing a dynamic image through a telephoto lens isn’t about adding more and more elements to the photo. To the contrary, it’s about eliminating everything extraneous until you’ve distilled the composition to its simplest form. When you use a telephoto lens to compose an image you’re essentially creating an intimate landscape, albeit from a greater distance than you may be accustomed to working. The key point here – simplify!

Most of my long lens landscapes have one of two common themes: patterns and/or colors. I seek out contrasts, such as the image you see here of a lone evergreen tree nestled amongst colorful gambel oaks and aspens. The evergreen not only contrasts with the surrounding foliage, it anchors the entire scene.


In the next photo, rows of young autumnal gambel oaks reclaiming an area charred by wildfire create a semi-abstract image through the use of bold color and natural patterns. Patterns abound in nature. Some are easy to find, like those formed by the stark white trunks of arrow straight aspen trunks. Yet other patterns aren’t as easily identified but are equally thrilling to discover and photograph. And, the more you work at finding patterns in nature the easier it becomes.


The image below, of strange cloud formations over the Cottonwood Mountains in Death Valley NP, could not have been created without a long lens.  I was working roadside using my Canon 70-300mm lens to photograph the Mesquite Dunes from a distance.  The light wasn’t cooperating as it was everywhere else but on the dunes so I began to look for other opportunities.  I watched this cloud form and then stretch for miles over the mountains and decided to train my lens in that direction.  When a section of the mountains lit up with storm light I knew I’d hit the jackpot.  The lesson: long lenses allow you to simplify in ways a wide angle or moderate focal length simply can’t and they open up opportunities that wouldn’t exist with any other lens.

Often it helps to identify an area of interest with the naked eye, then mount your camera and long lens on a tripod so you can slowly and methodically scan for a composition. There may be interesting elements that are only visible when magnified through your telephoto lens. Using a tripod while doing this allows you to slowly pan through the scene and, upon finding something that catches your eye, it is easier to fine tune a composition than when hand-holding your rig.

Use of a tripod is an absolute must, even with an image stabilized lens. Longer focal lengths require smaller apertures for maximum depth of field, which means your shutter speeds will likely be too long for acceptably sharp, hand-held images. And, it is much easier to fine tune a composition when operating from a tripod as you’ve minimized movement introduced by hand-holding a long lens.

Unless you make a creative decision to use a large aperture and shallow depth of field, you’ll find that it isn’t uncommon to use apertures in the f/22 to f/32 range. As this will vary greatly based upon your composition, the best way to learn is to experiment while in the field. Start at a large aperture, say f/8, and work your way through to a small aperture in one stop increments. View the images on your computer at home to understand how each chosen aperture affected the depth of field within the image.

When photographing foliage with a long lens I always use a polarizing filter to remove unwanted glare from leaves and saturate the colors. When you use a polarizing filter on a wide angle lens it is easy to see the effect – just look for the blue sky that gets bluer as you twist the filter! On a long lens, the effect is much more subtle. I find that it helps to hone in on one leaf or a small cluster of leaves that exhibit glare and slowly turn the polarizer until the glare begins to disappear.

Overcast light or open shade are ideal lighting conditions for long lens photography. You can make successful images in any light and with any lens, but the soft, diffuse light of an overcast day makes it much easier to identify workable scenes. This soft light also eliminates harsh shadows that can ruin an otherwise fantastic image.

I’ve given you a lot to ponder and I hope I’ve inspired you to put away the wide angle lens on your next photo outing. Reach into your camera bag, pull out the big guns and have some fun with long lens landscape photography!

Learn more about Bret, view his images, scout his workshops and read his blog here.

The Pageant of Autumn

Wednesday, November 3rd, 2010

Every autumn I get excited about photographing the brilliant yellow leaves and stark white trunks of that quintessential Rocky Mountain harbinger of fall – the stately aspen tree.  Before I head out on the first trip of the season I often wonder whether the world needs another photo of autumnal aspen trees.  I then pack my bags, gas up my truck and hit the road.  The world may not need another photo of aspen trees in fall but I sure as hell do.

My favorite time to photograph aspens isn’t when they’re at peak color.  No, I’d rather catch them as the last few beauty queens strive to keep the pageant of autumn alive.  The graphic impact of a forest filled with bare aspen limbs entangled in a chaotic dance before a pale and tattered blanket of yellow is simply too much for me to resist.  No doubt, it’s more difficult to make successful images when you’re confronted with less color and more chaos.  Maybe that’s why I so enjoy creating images at the tail end of my favorite season.  The whole process becomes more visceral.  More instinctual and more studied.  Having less to work with requires more of us as photographers.  It forces us to engage with our beloved subject on a level we may not often attain.

The rewards are often much greater than just a beautiful photograph.  I feel humbled.  Humbled by the sheer beauty and grace of the natural world in which we live.  Ecstatic to have been given an opportunity to create art as one season fades into the next.  I feel an overwhelming sense of peace.

I made the image above on Oct. 24, 2010 in the La Sal Mountains not far from my home in Moab.  A thin layer of slushy ice covered the small alpine lake at my feet.  The ground was littered with millions of yellow, red and brown aspen leaves and a thin layer of freshly fallen snow.  A chill descended upon the landscape as the sun crept closer to the horizon behind a veil of clouds filled with snowflakes that would fall only hours after I was back at home, snug in my warm bed.

Learn more about Bret, view his images, scout his workshops and read his blog here.

Giving Up? – A Lesson in Seeing

Monday, October 18th, 2010

Today’s post is a short one, though I believe it imparts an important lesson.  

Last month I embarked upon a 4 day, 3 night motorcycle trip to Crested Butte, Aspen and beyond.  I didn’t have a set itinerary, although I knew I wanted to photograph an autumn sunrise of the Maroon Bells reflecting in the placid waters of Maroon Lake.  On the evening before the final day of my trip I arrived in Aspen and took the road leading to the Bells.  I found an idyllic campsite in the Silver Queen campground only a couple miles from the lake.  Once camp was set up I headed to the lake to scout compositions for sunrise the next morning.

Having heard stories from friends about dozens of photographers lining the lake with their tripods overlapping I knew I’d need to arrive early the next morning to stake my claim.  I awoke early, threw on layers of warm clothing to protect me from the chilly 34 degree ride and proceeded to the lake. Arriving a full half hour before sunrise, I was a bit surprised to find seven cars already in the parking lot.

I grabbed my gear and headed up to the lake.  I found a nice little spot away from a gaggle of photographers who had all set up right next to one another at the end of the lake.  In the pre-dawn light the peaks had a subtle glow about them and were reflected almost perfectly in the lake.  I made a single exposure of the peaceful scene.  And then, the waters rippled.  A breeze!  Not a strong one, but potent enough to destroy all reflections.  The sun came up, the peaks glowed that beautiful and well-known red and shutters whirred – except mine.  I made a couple exposures and was unimpressed with the results.

I turned around to enjoy the light on Sievers Mountain.  And then my eyes locked on to such a sweet little scene that it almost made me giddy.  I snapped up my tripod and ran over for a closer look.  The foliage and grass lining the lake was covered in a thin layer of frost.  Even better, some of the plants were displaying brilliant fall colors!  I quickly went about hunting for a compelling composition.  As I did, I couldn’t help but notice the other photographers.  Several of them looked at me, with my camera aimed straight down at the ground, and one of them even pointed and commented to his buddy.  One thing remained constant: every last one of them (by now there were over a dozen) still had their cameras trained on the mountains and lake.

I discovered this little arrangement and worked it for a while.  I knew I’d made an image I would be proud of as soon as I saw this on the LCD screen.  I fiddled around a bit more, packed up and then headed out as the light on the peaks transitioned from warm red to flat, boring and colorless.  As I passed the gaggle an older photographer looked at me and said, “Giving up already, huh?”  I didn’t even break stride.  I just looked at him, smiled and said, “Enjoy your day!”

Learn more about Bret, view his images, scout his workshops and read his blog here.

Taking Pictures vs. Creating Art

Friday, October 8th, 2010

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

You can find out more about Bret's workshops here:  Moab Photo Workshops

Unleashing the Mad Scientist Within

Thursday, September 23rd, 2010

Tonight I feel a bit like a mad scientist. For some unknown reason I got an itch to try something totally new in Lightroom and Photoshop. I made this image of bison grazing in the meadow at Mormon Row in the Tetons while there a couple weeks ago. Straight out of the camera the image wasn’t terribly exciting but I felt it had potential. Those of you who are familiar with my work know that my images are generally pretty straightforward. I don’t apply creative effects and I process the images to look more or less like the scene did when I photographed it. A little tweak of contrast here, add some saturation there, darken a sky now and again and do a little dodge and burning – voila, the final image appears. I have nothing at all against images that have been heavily manipulated. Photography is an art and we should feel free to create our art on our own terms.

Now, I have obviously taken some serious creative liberties with this image.  For starters, my camera doesn’t make square photos.  I used a fairly heavy digital grad filter to darken the sky with a heavy dose of clarity to give more separation in the clouds, added some global negative vibrance to mute the colors, made a curves adjustment to increase contrast, dodged the bison to make them stand out a bit more from the meadow, added a vignette and some “grain” – all in Lightroom 3.  I exported the image to Photoshop CS4 and experimented with different blurs using the gradient tool to keep the bison sharp-ish while blurring out the background.  I didn’t like the results of any of those efforts.  What to do?  Hmmm…

I decided to see what Nik Color Efex Pro 3.0 could do for the image.  I used their “Classic Soft Focus” filter first, painting on the effects only where I wanted them.  I was getting closer but something was still missing.  I tried a few other filters that didn’t work out before discovering the “Glamour Glow” filter.  A very subtle application gave me the results I was looking for, again brushed on sparingly.  I used Nik Viveza 2 to add some additional global contrast and whiten the whites.  The final step was to use Nik Sharpener Pro to sharpen only the bison.  What you see here is the final result of all that wackiness.  Total processing time: about 35 minutes.

I think one of the greatest attributes of digital photography is that it has opened up a whole new world of creativity, both in the field and in post-production.  When it doesn’t cost a penny to click the shutter most photographers are more willing to try new things, experiment with composition and stretch the boundaries of what they’re comfortable with.  Things get even more exciting in the digital darkroom with panoramic image stitching, HDR, blended exposures, an endless variety of filters and plug-ins, not to mention what is possible with nothing more than Lightroom and Photoshop.  And, if you don’t like the results of your weird science, it’s real easy to go back to square one and start all over!

What do you think?  Some have said this image is “too flat”.  Some simply don’t get it.  That’s cool.  Certainly, this is not the kind of processing that is going to appeal to everyone.  I’m just really curious to hear your comments as I really stepped out of my comfort zone with this one.  Be as harsh and critical as you dare.  I’m a big boy and I can take it.  What have you done to experiment and broaden your creative vision? Let’s hear some ideas!

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

The Making of an Image – Forest of Ghosts, Wyoming

Tuesday, September 14th, 2010

Some call me obsessive, others call me compulsive and I admit to both.  Over the last decade I visited Yellowstone National Park at least a dozen times.  Each time, while driving through the park, I passed a forest of ghostly trees whose trunks were bleached and faded from acidic hot spring runoff and intense alpine sun.  Each time I thought, “Hey, that’s a really cool location and one day you should stop and see about making an image of the place.”  I’ve had this image in the back of my head since my first visit almost ten years ago.  It has gnawed at my brain for damn near a decade.  Finally, a couple months ago, I decided to do something about it.

 

Early June, 2010 I decided to pack up my truck and head north for a two week road trip in the greater Yellowstone area.  This was my opportunity to make the image I’d been visualizing all those years.  It would require an overcast day, ideally some mist or fog, and a little luck in finding a successful composition.  Why luck? This forest is literally right off the road.  The shoulder is about a foot wide, then it drops a couple feet into a meadow that is filled with runoff from hot springs where the rangers and common sense tell us we shouldn’t walk. If you’ve ever been to Yellowstone you know that any person with a camera on a tripod attracts the attention of motorists, many of whom are driving rented RV’s that they aren’t used to driving.  When your butt is hanging over the fog line and you’re peering through the viewfinder with cars and RVs speeding by, you’ve got to be a little bit lucky to find a composition and avoid becoming roadkill.

When I arrived at the location I parked my truck in the only pullout I could find nearby which ended up being about 1/4 mile away from the ghost forest.  A short walk later and at last, there I was, standing before these beautiful but wretched trees with camera in hand.  The sky was uniformly grey but there was no mist or fog lingering amongst the trees.  Win some, lose some.  I scoped out the area and tried several compositions.  There was a small creek doing a gentle “S” curve through the trees.  Nice, but not it.  Then I found a section where the trunks were more spread out and the water was deep enough to catch some reflections.  Cool but still not what I had in mind.  I zoomed in, I went wide angle.  I just wasn’t feelin’ it and I was starting to get frustrated.  I had to keep telling myself that the image was here and that I just hadn’t yet found it.

After 30 minutes or so I started walking back to my truck with my head hung low.  I had failed.  The image wasn’t there after all.  Surely if I were a better photographer I would have realized my vision!  As I passed the end of the ghost forest I looked back over my shoulder for one last farewell glance.  What did I see?  The image!  Given a bit of distance the trees seemed to huddle closer together, presenting an almost abstract form.  There were the strong vertical lines, the somber color palette and seemingly infinite assortment of stark tree trunks.  I knew a longer focal length would compress the scene and make the trunks really appear to be stacked one on top of the other.  I quickly set up my tripod and went to work composing an image.  It didn’t take long and I had almost exactly what I’d been after all this time.  I made the image with the intent of cropping out most of the foreground to create a panorama, which would also contribute to the semi-chaotic and abstract nature of the trunks.

What’s the lesson here?  First, keep good mental notes.  If you see something that has potential but you don’t have the ability to work it right away, remember it.  Better yet, keep a “wish list” in a notebook, on your laptop or in your iPhone.  Second, don’t give up if at first you don’t find what you’re looking for.  Keep at it.  Dedicate yourself to working the location.  Lastly, when you do give up, don’t forget to look over your shoulder as you walk away.  You just never know when the photo you envisioned is going to decide to reveal itself to you.

You can learn more about Bret, view his wonderful images, read his blog here:  Bret Edge Photography

You can find out more about Bret's workshops here:  Moab Photo Workshops