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
Climbing Top of the Prow on Cathedral Ledge in New Hampshire’s White Mountains.
Twenty years ago, before I had the bug that drives me to be a professional outdoor photographer, I worked in a Nature Company store in a mall in Massachusetts. As awful as working in the mall was, this 8-month gig had a big impact on my life, as I met Galen Rowell and discovered the world of adventure and nature photography. One memory from that job was a comment I overheard one of our regular customers make to my manager one day.
This guy was a bird photographer (I’ll call him Fred,) and actually he was pretty good at shooting birds. After showing off what seemed like hundreds of bird portraits, he brought up the photography of Galen Rowell, who many consider one of the greatest adventure photographers of the 20th century. Fred commented that while Galen’s pictures were nice, they weren’t that great because anyone in that location with that subject matter and light would have made a great photo. Even though I hardly ever took up a camera at that point in my life, I knew Fred’s comment was about as far from reality as possible (actually, I think I muttered something about Fred being an F*&?# idiot, but I digress.)
In my mind, until Fred actually endeavored to take the kind of photos that Galen Rowell accomplished, he would never understand what goes in to making a transcendent landscape or adventure photo. There’s a certain quality of mood, emotion, and unique beauty that the great ones can create, that the rest of us will never achieve even if we put or tripods in the same place.
Climbing Cathedral Ledge.
I was reminded of Fred’s comment the other morning, as I was in the middle of shooting rock climbers on Cathedral Ledge in New Hampshire’s White Mountains. Except for a day of shooting a couple of guys climbing boulders in Pawtuckaway State Park, I had never photographed rock climbing before, and had in fact never tried the sport myself. In preparation for the day’s shoot, I bought a copy of the Climbing Magazine photo annual and looked at the images, thinking “Gee, these are no big deal – I could have taken these shots if I were up on that rock.”
Of course, I’m as big an idiot as Fred for thinking that. A great fashion photographer doesn’t go to the World Series, sit in the pit with two dozen photographers, and make photos that match the best of the sports shooters. Not the first time anyway. To really shoot a certain type of photography well, you have to do it on a regular basis and be immersed in it--understanding the story behind the action, and the minds of the participants.
An accomplished photographer can translate some skills immediately, which I think I was able to do with these climbing photos, but to be a master takes time, effort, and passion for the subject.
Climbing Cathedral Ledge.
The hardest part for me on this shoot was that first step over the edge. As I mentioned, I’ve never climbed rock before (I once climbed a wall of ice on a glacier in Alaska, but that’s a distant memory, and honestly I sucked at it.) There were a few seconds before heading over the edge that I considered backing out, but a few deep breaths later and I stepped over and worked my way down about 20 feet or so. I have WAY more respect for climbing photographers now. Dealing with 20+ pounds of camera gear while hanging from a rope is harder than I thought.
Another big challenge is framing the photos. If you don’t like your perspective and need to move over ten feet or so, it takes a lot of work. Thankfully, my guides (and models), Beckett and Shawna of International Mountain Climbing School in North Conway were real pros and had me working comfortably in no time.
Looking up. I’m hanging off the green rope.
I had a great time with this shoot (which only lasted about 3 hours,) and I’m hoping to try my skill at this again soon.
If you’re unfamiliar with Galen Rowell’s work, you should definitely check it out at http://mountainlight.com/.
Editors note: Welcome to Jerry and Marcy Monkman! They will be posting on our blog from time to time, and we are pleased and honored to have them.
Jerry and Marcy Monkman are "EcoPhotographers" featuring distinctive adventure, nature, and travel photography. Known for their conservation work in New England's wild places, the Monkmans have spent the last fifteen years artfully documenting the mountains, forests, and coastlines that define the region.
Onion seedlings in a greenhouse in South Hampton, New Hampshire.
This is the first time in eleven years that I am not working on one or more book projects (I tortured myself with three last year.) I love working on books most of the time, but add in the usual bunch of commissioned photo projects that I do every year, and it’s rare for me to have the time to shoot just because I feel like it. I think this is a problem. Always working under deadlines makes it hard to grow as a photographer. You are less likely to experiment with new techniques, explore new subject matter in depth, or just have fun being a photographer.
I think emerging photographers often create such unique and compelling work because they have yet to be hemmed in by years of running a business and fulfilling the demands of clients. Us veterans need to get back to the freedom of our early days once in a while by regularly tackling personal photo projects. These projects are a a great way to have fun, while stretching your skills to new levels and sometimes unexpected places. Besides giving you a chance to grow creatively, they are an important way to let photo editors and art buyers see what you are interested in, new directions you are exploring, and that you can find new ways to make art and tell stories. It’s sometimes hard to do that with commissioned work, as the client hires you based on what you already do. Sure, you can experiment on those projects too, but you better get it right using tried and true methods first.
Seed flats planted with onion seeds in a greenhouse in South Hampton, New Hampshire.
My wife Marcy and I are members of a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) on the New Hampshire Seacoast called Heron Pond Farm. CSA members give the farm capital at the times of the year when they need it most, and the farm pays back its members with fruits and vegetables once a week or every other week during the course of the year. Heron Pond Farm, offers both a summer share, which runs from June through October, and a winter share that pays out from November through March. (By the way there is still room to purchase this year’s summer share if you’re in the area – from our experience, I can tell you that you receive much more value than you pay out.) I’ve decided to make chronicling the work at Heron Pond Farm a personal photo project that I can work on over the course of the year, and beyond. I feel that the CSA movement has benefits on many levels – it strengthens community, it keeps open space from being developed, and it encourages people to eat locally, which reduces carbon emissions. As a personal photography project, it is ideal for me for several reasons: 1) it is different than my usual nature and adventure photography, 2) it has a conservation theme, which is something I am passionate about, 3) it is close to home (about 15 miles) so I can shoot an hour here or there without feeling like it is getting in the way of my “real” work, 4) it is a story I can easily follow long-term and develop a body of work that has meaning and is marketable, and 5) it lets me support people and a business I believe in.
Farmer Greg Balog training tomato plants in a greenhouse in South Hampton, New Hampshire. Heron Pond Farm greenhouse.
I’ve spent 6-8 hours/month so far since January with the Heron Pond Farm crew, and I’m really just getting started photography-wise. While I have photographed farms before, it has typically been from a scenic standpoint, while this project is inspiring me to take a more in-depth approach, learning what’s going on and why, and capturing the course of events from planting to harvest to market. Of course, starting a photography project focusing on a vegetable farm in New Hampshire in January may seem less than ideal, but it has been a great time to get to know the farmers and their crew as well as shoot the farming that happens in the winter in greenhouses. I never understood the extent of winter farming in New Hampshire, and to me that’s a new story that I can pursue. (Plus, the light in a greenhouse has a great diffuse quality, so you can shoot any time of day using natural light. That will end soon as planting moves outside.) What’s nice about working on a story like this as a personal project is that there is no deadline or client, and if I get to the farm and just feel like goofing around with my new lens baby for 3 hours, that’s o.k. The goal for me is to use that time to try new things and techniques and see what happens. If it sucks, who cares? But maybe I’ll figure something out that is pretty cool
A greenhouse at Heron Pond Farm that was damaged by a rain and wind storm in South Hampton, New Hampshire. Thankfully, the plastic sheeting was due to be replaced soon, and the warm weather meant the crops were not lost.
I’m excited to see where this project goes as the weather warms up and I get to spend time out in the fields. I feel like the creative opportunities will get even more inspiring as this story progresses, but I already feel like I’m better off just for having started it. Now I just have to find the time for the other three or four projects swimming around in my head!
Heron Pond Farm Greenhouse – Images by Jerry and Marcy Monkman
Until next time,
-Jerry
You can find out more about the Monkmans at their website, and follow Jerry on Twitter at @jerrymonkman
Stepping Off The Cliff
Monday, April 26th, 2010Climbing Top of the Prow on Cathedral Ledge in New Hampshire’s White Mountains.
Twenty years ago, before I had the bug that drives me to be a professional outdoor photographer, I worked in a Nature Company store in a mall in Massachusetts. As awful as working in the mall was, this 8-month gig had a big impact on my life, as I met Galen Rowell and discovered the world of adventure and nature photography. One memory from that job was a comment I overheard one of our regular customers make to my manager one day.
This guy was a bird photographer (I’ll call him Fred,) and actually he was pretty good at shooting birds. After showing off what seemed like hundreds of bird portraits, he brought up the photography of Galen Rowell, who many consider one of the greatest adventure photographers of the 20th century. Fred commented that while Galen’s pictures were nice, they weren’t that great because anyone in that location with that subject matter and light would have made a great photo. Even though I hardly ever took up a camera at that point in my life, I knew Fred’s comment was about as far from reality as possible (actually, I think I muttered something about Fred being an F*&?# idiot, but I digress.)
In my mind, until Fred actually endeavored to take the kind of photos that Galen Rowell accomplished, he would never understand what goes in to making a transcendent landscape or adventure photo. There’s a certain quality of mood, emotion, and unique beauty that the great ones can create, that the rest of us will never achieve even if we put or tripods in the same place.
Climbing Cathedral Ledge.
I was reminded of Fred’s comment the other morning, as I was in the middle of shooting rock climbers on Cathedral Ledge in New Hampshire’s White Mountains. Except for a day of shooting a couple of guys climbing boulders in Pawtuckaway State Park, I had never photographed rock climbing before, and had in fact never tried the sport myself. In preparation for the day’s shoot, I bought a copy of the Climbing Magazine photo annual and looked at the images, thinking “Gee, these are no big deal – I could have taken these shots if I were up on that rock.”
Of course, I’m as big an idiot as Fred for thinking that. A great fashion photographer doesn’t go to the World Series, sit in the pit with two dozen photographers, and make photos that match the best of the sports shooters. Not the first time anyway. To really shoot a certain type of photography well, you have to do it on a regular basis and be immersed in it--understanding the story behind the action, and the minds of the participants.
An accomplished photographer can translate some skills immediately, which I think I was able to do with these climbing photos, but to be a master takes time, effort, and passion for the subject.
Climbing Cathedral Ledge.
The hardest part for me on this shoot was that first step over the edge. As I mentioned, I’ve never climbed rock before (I once climbed a wall of ice on a glacier in Alaska, but that’s a distant memory, and honestly I sucked at it.) There were a few seconds before heading over the edge that I considered backing out, but a few deep breaths later and I stepped over and worked my way down about 20 feet or so. I have WAY more respect for climbing photographers now. Dealing with 20+ pounds of camera gear while hanging from a rope is harder than I thought.
Another big challenge is framing the photos. If you don’t like your perspective and need to move over ten feet or so, it takes a lot of work. Thankfully, my guides (and models), Beckett and Shawna of International Mountain Climbing School in North Conway were real pros and had me working comfortably in no time.
Looking up. I’m hanging off the green rope.
I had a great time with this shoot (which only lasted about 3 hours,) and I’m hoping to try my skill at this again soon.
If you’re unfamiliar with Galen Rowell’s work, you should definitely check it out at http://mountainlight.com/.
And if you want a good climbing guide, check out the International Mountain Climbing School in North Conway, NH.
Until next time…
-Jerry
Find out more about Jerry at his website, and follow him on Twitter at @jerrymonkman
Tags: Photo Trips, the Creative Side
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