Category Archives: Photography

Choices

Scrap pile in the sugar cane processing plant at St Nicholas Abbey on Barbados

Does the cost of your gear keep you from getting out and enjoying it?  Does thinking about/worrying about/paying for your equipment keep you from using it?

David duChemin recently wrote a blog post titled “Buy the Tickets” where he compared the cost of buying less-expensive but still good-quality gear instead of “pro” gear and investing the difference in the experience of photographing.  By his analysis the difference between the cost of the “high end” kit and the so-called “budget” kit would buy an around-the-world plane ticket with money left over for food and lodging.  Not 5-star food and lodging perhaps, but good enough.  Fascinating concept.

“Don’t spend money on gear. Spend it on plane tickets.”

Whenever someone writes an article like that they get a lot of “must be nice” and “that would never work for me” and “what about the kids and the mortgage” comments.  Happens to Kathy and me when we talk about the vacations we take.  Our ability to do the traveling we do is because of the choices we have made and make.  What people too often fail to realize is that once you have established a goal, any choice you make that doesn’t directly help you accomplish it is an excuse.

If your goal is financial security for retirement you need to be making choices and saving enough to get you there, and hopefully you started a long time ago.  If your goal is to be able to travel the country or the world – whether you are a photographer or not – how does owning a house/buying a car/watching TV help you get there?  If you are fortunate enough to be able to do both, great!  If you have to make choices you need to make them.  If the cost of doing those things – and that includes the opportunity cost associated with the money, time and attention – keeps you from getting where you want to be then you either need to make different choices or set different goals.

“Forget the shiny stuff, it gets tarnished fast. Put your camera into the bag and book a flight instead. Go make memories and photographs. Live. Buy the tickets.”

I write a lot about how I don’t need to have the latest and greatest equipment to take good photographs.  I have made what I feel are very successful photographs with equipment that for a lot of people would have been traded in or sold off years ago.  I’ll admit that part of my writing is probably to console myself for not jumping on the bandwagon, but I truly believe that the choices I make – to spend the money on the destinations and not the equipment – is part of what will allow me to achieve my own goals.  If I had to choose between a new camera and a vacation – and sometimes I do – I would choose the vacation every time.

I get comments and questions all the time from people, especially those I work with, that ask why I am working at a day job when my photography is so good (their words) and I enjoy it so much.  As much as I love photography, becoming a full-time photographer is not my goal.  It’s not even my dream.  I enjoy photography a lot, but I enjoy it for the places it takes me and the things it allows me to see.  I enjoy the learning and the creative expression and the continuous development.  I love sharing my work with people who appreciate it, whether they pay me for it or not.  The sacrifices it would take to be able to do photography full time – and especially to make a living from it – would first and foremost take a lot of the fun out of it for me, but most importantly it would keep me from achieving my personal goals.  Many of the full-time photographers I know are only able to do it with the help of a willing spouse who provides the income to pay the mortgage while they spend their time being a photographer.  I think that’s great if they can swing it.  But my goals include Kathy & me traveling and experiencing the world together, and if that means we have to do it on a few weeks’ vacation time every year until we are finally able to trek out on our own, that’s fine with me.  That moment is getting closer all the time.

My ultimate wish would be for everyone to be able to do whatever they want to do for as long as they want to do it.  Unfortunately not many of us get to do that.  So we set goals and make choices.  Sometimes we make sacrifices.  But I prefer to call them compromises.  Hopefully your goals are clear and your choices will allow you to meet them.  If not, take a look at what’s getting in your way, make the changes necessary and get going.  It’s not too late!

It’s Not The Camera

Aboard Freedom of the Seas

A few weeks ago I entered 4 prints in a juried photography show.  There were a total of 140-some submissions, and 2 of my 4 entries were chosen out of about 30 overall, with 1 of mine receiving an Honorable Mention.  All 4 photographs were taken with my now-ancient and so-called obsolete Canon G9.

The prints were done on canvas at an 11×14 size.  Admittedly that’s probably about as big as they will go without losing some quality, but I can live with that.  There’s no reason why they need to be bigger.  The main point – and one that brings me great satisfaction – is that the type of camera I used was immaterial.  All four of the photos I entered were made while I was on vacation.  If I had taken only an SLR I probably wouldn’t have made the photos at all, because more than likely I would not have had my camera with me.  Having a compact and easily-portable camera that I was willing to carry made the difference.  I could have made the photographs with any camera – and made them just as well – but I could only have made them if I was carrying a camera at all.  If I had taken only a bulky SLR I probably would have left it in my room.

I recently attended a photography workshop with Les Saucier, who has been one of my mentors and has provided much of my recent photographic inspiration.  In part of his presentation Les uses as an example a phrase that represents his choice of camera brand and pokes fun at those of us who favor the superior make.  It’s all in fun and we know it.  At one point during the class he mentioned that while he can easily tell the focal length of the lens used and can sometimes tell whether the lens was high-quality or not, he has never been able to look at a photograph and tell what brand of camera was used.  The images reveal a lot of things but they do not reveal the brand or type of camera.

During the critique session four of the six images I submitted were made with my G12.  No one even hinted at knowing or wondering (or caring) what camera I used.  In fact, the two that I shot with my G12 got favorable commentary from Les as well as the participants.  This only serves to emphasize my point.

I know this is a subject I probably beat to death, but it’s one I feel strongly about.  It’s the photographer that makes the photograph.  The camera he uses is obviously the most important tool, but the end result is about the photograph itself, not the equipment used to create it.

Trial and Error

Wheelbarrow in field at the Licklog Mill Store near Highlands, NC

I was just reading a post on Kirk Tuck’s blog where he took himself to task for being a Curmudgeon, stuck in his ways and not willing to try new things.  If you follow Kirk you know that nothing could be further from the truth.  He tries lots of new things, and sometimes tries some old things just to see if they are as good now as they used to be.  Usually they are.  But when the money is on the line and he’s doing a job, he is always very careful to select the right tool for the work he’s doing.  Sometimes it means he can use an 8-year old Kodak SLR and sometimes he relies on the trusty 5D Mark II.

The subject of this specific rant was that he had recently allowed himself to use Topaz to process one of his swimming images, and he thought the image was interesting and that “I really like the tones and the colors I ended up with after playing.”

I find myself feeling like a bit of a curmudgeon at times.  I like the way I do things and it’s hard for me to change.  I know that I should probably try new things, if for no other reason than to say that I tried them and didn’t like them.  Sort of like you can’t complain about the election if you didn’t vote, right?  And I suppose it’s good to learn new things, even if it’s just so I know how to talk about it when I’m teaching a Lightroom class.  But I worry so much that the “gear” will get in the way that I tend to not do that.

I think the main thing for me is that I like the tools I use because I like the results I get from using them.  It’s part of the pre-visualization process.  Yes, there is probably some merit to knowing how to use other software, but in many ways isn’t that just like buying another lens?  The more lenses I have the more time I spend thinking about whether or not I’m using the right lens and the less time I spend thinking about whether I’m pointing it in the right direction.

About Art

Old truck in downtown Black Mountain North Carolina

 

As I’ve traveled on my photographic journey one of the things that continues to fascinate me is the art side of the medium.  I pay attention to it not necessarily because I fancy myself as some kind of “artiste” but because I am interested in learning about the historical influences and hopefully a little about what makes “good” photography good.  I think it is helpful to see what the possibilities are and use that knowledge to form and cultivate my own vision and refine my approach to my own work.

I understand that art – and what makes Good Art – is very subjective.  And there seems to be sort of a consensus, at least to the casual observer, that art has to be weird to be good.  And the weirder the better.  Terms like “cutting edge” or “pushing the boundaries” or even “visionary” are thrown around like compliments in a singles bar.  After spending time looking at various mediums and what people do and don’t consider “Good” it becomes quite apparent that art, and one’s taste and appreciation in art, is highly personal and very subjective.

Kathy & I recently attended the opening for The Light Factory’s Annuale and annual Member’s Show.  The Annuale is a juried show, where they bring in a prominent curator or director to be the juror, and submissions come from all over the world.  This year they had something like 120 submissions and 6 were chosen for the show.  I’ve entered the Annuale for the last 3 years.  Not because I think my work has a chance to get in, or even because I think that my photography would ever even be considered Art, but because I find the exercise of choosing a theme, editing the photos down to the required 5-7 choices and writing an Artist’s Statement that describes the work and outlines my intention to be a fascinating exercise and a worthwhile educational process.  For me that’s pretty much all there is.  It would be great to have my work chosen, but there’s not much chance of that.  And that sentiment is only reinforced when I see what work is chosen.

It’s interesting to me that for the last 4 years’ shows there is always work that I look at and think, “yeah, I get that.”  I see the photographer’s intention, can somehow connect emotionally to the work and appreciate what they have done.  And there is always at least one selection, often two or more, that I look at and think, “huh?”  And this is not unique to this particular museum or this particular show.  I find myself wondering these things any time I look at a show where the work was somehow “chosen” based on someone else’s interpretation of artistic merit.  And I don’t necessarily mean to imply that I think there is anything wrong with it, I just find it fascinating.

After the opening we had dinner with some friends, several of whom had also submitted work to the Annuale and at least one who did not enter because he didn’t feel like his work stood any chance of being picked (although I disagree).  All of them had the same conclusions about the same selections.  They tended to favor the same ones I did and were shaking their heads at the same ones that make me question my own taste.

It would be easy to get discouraged by all this, and many people do.  I find it to be a fascinating part of the educational process and am actually encouraged when I feel that I have been able to come up with a series of photos that work pretty well together and write an Artist’s Statement that sounds – at least to me – cohesive and coherent.  Whether my work gets picked or not doesn’t really bother me.  It would be great to have my work chosen, but that’s not why I do what I do.  I truly feel that I would rather have people who appreciate my work find me, and not force my work on others and try to convince them to appreciate it.  That’s probably backwards and not the way a true artist would work, but that’s the way I do it.

Persistence, Perseverance & Professionalism

Brimstone Hill Fortress on St Kitts

It’s interesting how things work out.  I don’t conspicuously market my photography, preferring to rely on referrals and word of mouth from people who know and appreciate my work.

Marketing my photography – or what passes as marketing for me – takes me along three primary paths.  I sell my work as prints or stock, I teach classes and make presentations on Lightroom, digital workflow and other presentation topics, and I write on my blog.  I do all of that because I enjoy it, and if I get paid it’s a bonus.

I don’t do photography to make the mortgage payment, but I do treat it as a professional business and operate as though it was my full time job.  I’ve always wanted to feel like I did everything that a full-time photographer would do, and I do a number of things that even some of the full-time photographers I know don’t do.  The biggest compliment someone can pay me is when they say something like, “you mean this isn’t your full-time job?  Your work is great!”

I’m a big fan of Tommy Tomlinson, a columnist for the Charlotte Observer and in my opinion one of the best newspaper writers since Lewis Grizzard.  He recently wrote a blog post titled “What it means to be a pro” about singer/songwriter Edwin McCain.  You should just go read the article, but my favorite comment is when he says:

“So many people wake up every day wanting to be professional musicians, or professional writers, or professional athletes, or professional anything. Here’s the secret: Talent is part of it, but it’s not nearly all. What makes a professional, more than anything, is the will to do your best and the guts to keep showing up.”

So what does this have to do with anything?  Over the last several years I’ve sold photos to three magazines on a regular basis.  The economy took its toll on the assignment work I had been doing for one of them, and between heavy competition and budget worries the well has been pretty dry, but I’ve kept in touch, submitted my work in a prompt and professional manner and knew that eventually they would see something they liked.  And in the last month I have sold photos to all three magazines.  Two of them are running as double-page spreads in two consecutive issues.  When I prepared the invoice for one of the other magazines I realized that it had been two years since the last invoice.  I’ve submitted something to just about every request they’ve made along the way.

A couple of months ago I agreed to take pictures at a first birthday party for a friend who has triplets.  I did it for free because she’s a friend, I had shot her wedding and she has cute babies.  They liked my work so much that they paid me anyway!  And one of the other Moms asked me to shoot the first birthday party of her twins and paid my going rate.

I do one-on-one tutoring in Lightroom and digital workflow, and that has been a hard sell.  People have their own workflow and good or bad they like to stick with what they’re comfortable with.  Lately I’ve been getting calls right and left from people wanting to learn how to use Lightroom.  They are amazed at how much they can learn in a 2-hour session.  Good stuff.

This doesn’t mean that the recession is over or that I’m suddenly famous and it certainly doesn’t mean that I’m going to be able to give up my Day Job any time soon, but it is hugely gratifying to me when people appreciate what I do and am willing to pay for my work.  I have to think that a professional approach, keeping in touch, replying in a timely manner and being reliable will pay off in the long run.  Plus it’s the way I am and the way I like to work.

Whatever you decide to do, take the time to do it well, keep at it even when you think you want to give up, and eventually preparation and opportunity will cross paths and all that hard work will pay off.

Learning by Doing

Carriage House on the Cone Manor, Blue Ridge Parkway near Blowing Rock North Carolina

 

I recently traded e-mails with a student from one of my Lightroom classes who told me that she liked my teaching style because I showed her how to do things then gave her time to try them out while being available to give feedback or answer questions.  I appreciated that feedback because that’s always my goal.

As someone who is mostly self-taught – after a great introduction from a photo class taught by my now good friend Emilie Knight and a few other valuable mentors – I am a firm believer that while it is good to get inspiration, knowledge and information from workshops, websites, videos and the classroom, it is absolutely critical to “complete the circle” by taking the time to do the work.  Sit down at your computer and figure out how to use whatever software you choose to create the images you envisioned.  Watching me doing it and taking notes isn’t going to help you.

People like to tell me about how hard they think Lightroom is.  It’s not hard – in fact it’s remarkably simple – provided you take the time to learn how to use it.  If you’re looking for that big “Easy Button” you won’t find it.  But if you take the time to learn how to use it you won’t need the Easy Button.  For me the goal of software is to not have to think about it.  Learn what the capabilities are, just like you learn the capabilities of your camera.  Before you know it you’ll be taking photographs and visualizing the results because you will know exactly what the capabilities of the software are.

Get out and photograph.  Apply the inspiration you get from others and get to work making your own photographs.  You need to get out and take pictures – YOUR pictures.  Not your version of my pictures or someone else’s pictures.

When I do my classes or presentations I show people my photography, show people how Lightroom works, talk about what inspires me or how I see, but I don’t want to do it for them.  Enjoy my work, hopefully be inspired by some of it (hey, inspiration can inspire to do or to not do, you know!), see what the possibilities are then go do your thing.  That’s one of the problems with sharing technical data.  When I show a photo and someone asks me what lens I used, or what the shutter speed was, they’re not thinking about the photograph.  They’re distracted by the how and not paying attention to the why.  I encourage people to think about it instead of asking the question.  That’s how we learn.

If someone asks me for the technical information and I say “Canon 5D with the 70-200 2.8L IS USM at 190mm, f16 @ 1/30, ISO 100” and they write it all down what does that do?  It’s just a bunch of gobbledygook.  But if they look at my photo and think to themselves “looks like a longish lens because he got in close, shutter speed is pretty short because he froze the movement and there’s pretty good depth of field so he probably used a small aperture” guess what?  They get it!  It doesn’t matter whether you get the exact numbers but as long as you get the idea that’s close enough.  Then take that and apply it to your own situations.

Don’t get me wrong.  Going to the classroom or attending a workshop is great.  It’s fuel for the fire.  Another tool for the toolbox.  But take that fuel or that tool and go out there and make something with it.  Something that’s special.  Something that’s yours.

Outside the Comfort Zone

A couple of weekends ago I did something entirely different.  A good friend and former co-worker asked me to photograph her triplets’ first birthday party.  Yes, triplets!  Like I said, she’s a friend.  With more than a little concern and hesitation I said Yes.

It was fun!

More than anything I was surprised by how much crawling around, getting up and down and generally doing things my body doesn’t usually have to do is required to do this kind of work.  It’s tough!  But I was also interested in figuring out how to apply things I know and regularly practice to taking photographs of subjects that move.  And eat.  And get messy.

It was great!

I even had one of the other kid’s moms ask me if I would photograph a party for her twins in May.  I thought about it just in case she called me and she did call me.  I said Yes.

I think it’s a good idea to step outside one’s comfort zone once in a while.  It’s good for the creativity to apply our vision to new things, to think about interpreting different subjects in our personal way.

As with a lot of photographers I often get asked if I do things I don’t do – weddings, portraits, birthday parties, etc.  Usually I say “no” and refer people to photographers I know who specialize in those things.  I figure I don’t want to be bothered doing something I don’t do, and I justify it by telling the potential customer that they would be better served by someone who specializes in their work.  What I fail to realize is that they asked me because they want me.  They don’t want to go with someone they don’t know, even if that person might “specialize” in what they are doing.  So what usually happens is that they don’t follow through on my recommendation or they just don’t hire anyone.  People take comfort in knowing that someone they know trusted me, and that if they hire me I’ll do the job.

That doesn’t mean I’m going to do it for free, or that I’ll even do it for cheap.  I know enough about the business to know to charge a fair rate for doing this kind of work.  If I quote my price and the people decide to hire me I’ll do the work.  If they don’t hire me or if they hire someone else it won’t be personal.  If I get the work I’ll do my best and be paid fairly for it, and if I don’t get it I’ll still have plenty of my own work to do!

How Far is Far Enough?

Back in January, when we were sure that winter was never going to end, some good friends from Belhaven, NC decided to head south to Wilmington, NC to find some warmer weather.  They got to Wilmington and it wasn’t warm enough, so they decided to drive south until they found warm weather.  They ended up in Key West.

I’m currently working on a photography presentation that focuses on exploring a scene, seeing the details and getting down to the gist of what makes something photographically interesting.  It’s the way I often work, getting to a location and staying there until I’m done.  Sometimes it means skipping other locations I had planned on, but I’m a believer that if I get somewhere, I like what I see and it works, stick with it until I’ve worn it out.  I much prefer trying to find something that works where I am and not go running around chasing something that might or might not be somewhere else.

This approach sometimes runs counter to group outings and workshops, since in order to provide a variety of subject matter and conditions for all of the participants it is often necessary to “move along.”  This is tough, because I prefer to not work with an agenda per se, as “watching my watch” makes it tough to be creative.  On the other hand it’s hard to know when I’m finished, or when I have gone far enough.  Conditions change, I get tired, eventually I get hungry or have to sleep!

I feel like my best work tends to come either right at the beginning of a session or right at the end.  Sometimes I connect right away but often I start off wandering around, working on ideas but not really seeing or feeling it.  I gradually build up to the point where I get it.  But then what?  Do I just stop, or do I keep going to see what else there is?

If you are shooting something specific like a sunrise or sunset, you pretty much know when it’s over.  If you are making a portrait you might be looking for a certain pose or expression, and when you get it you might be done.  If you are shooting something abstract like clouds or ocean waves, how much is enough?  Random is random, and once you’ve taken 500 shots or filled a card I sort of feel like you either got it or you didn’t get it, and taking more shots won’t necessarily change that.  It really depends on what it is you are trying to say.  What is it that is pulling you toward a scene and how do you express that?

Sometimes it is good to have an idea in mind but to be open to changing your mind.  If you are photographing a scene and come across something interesting and unexpected, be free to pursue that.  Unless you are on an assignment you are able to choose and go after whatever catches your eye.  Sometimes you can do both.  Sometimes when you get to your personal “Wilmington” you’ll find it is just what you were looking for.  And sometimes you have to go all the way to the end of the road and end up in Key West.

It’s a Commitment

 

I spent some time the other day helping a good friend try to diagnose some problems he was having with Lightroom.  His computer was doing some strange stuff with multiple catalogs and he couldn’t figure it out.  It’s going to take some more work because he’s made a bit of a mess of things, but I’m going to help him out because it’s a good way for me to learn, he’s a good friend and it’s something I want to do.

Sometimes it takes working with someone else’s digital file management system to appreciate how truly difficult it can be to manage our photographs.  I’m very fortunate to have realized from the start – even before Lightroom – that good organization was going to be essential if I had any hope of keeping track of what I was certain to be a lot of files.  And boy was I right – I had no idea!

The biggest realization for me is that using a program like Lightroom is a commitment.  Lightroom is designed to be your sole system for image organization.  It doesn’t do you any good if you put just some of your images in Lightroom, or if you work with Lightroom sometimes and other programs other times.  Once you decide to use it you need to learn how it works, figure out what works best for you and embrace it 100%.  It won’t do you any good any other way.

I’ve told this story to groups before so it’s nothing new to a lot of my readers, but the first time I used Lightroom it was to organize, edit and process images from a magazine assignment.  I decided that I was going to use Lightroom from start to finish to complete this assignment, and that I would use what I learned to develop my workflow around it.  I “got it” from the very beginning, understood how it worked and what it would do, and soon I imported my entire photo collection, which was much smaller than it is today, into my Lightroom catalog.

Today I use Lightroom for everything – from editing to processing to printing.  I rarely use Photoshop for anything – going there for the occasional cloning job, a panorama or the rare – for me – HDR image.  And I don’t own and haven’t tried any of the third-party software.  Not that I have a problem with it, I just don’t feel like I need it.

When I teach and work with other people dealing with their digital workflow, I try to help them develop a system that they understand and that works for them.  They could copy everything I do exactly, but unless they understand what I’m doing and why, they’ll never get comfortable with it, probably won’t use it and soon they’ll have a mess.

A lot of people enjoy the computer side of digital photography.  I enjoy it to the extent that I love figuring things out and solving problems, but once I get to a point where I have a system that works I want it to get out of my way and let me do my thing.  I don’t want to have to worry about hardware and software and plug-ins and actions.  I want the computer stuff to be a tool that I use to achieve the desired result, and I want it to come as natural to me as changing the aperture on my camera.

I’ve worked hard to get to the point I am at with my workflow.  I enjoy helping other people too, but it takes a certain level of commitment to get to the point where you have something you can use.  Getting there might take some valuable time away from our photography, but ultimately that time investment will pay off more than buying a new piece of software or even a new lens if it helps us spend our time being creative instead of trying to figure out the computer stuff.

Point & Shoot Pros and Cons – Part 2

In my last post I discussed the benefits of shooting with a Point & Shoot camera. In this second of two parts I discuss the Cons of shooting with a compact point & shoot camera.

The negatives of this camera are few, and I had to work a bit to come up with a meaningful list, but here goes.

Limited ability for shallow depth of field
Depth of field is not unlimited, but you get a lot of it even at the middle apertures like f4. At f8 (the smallest aperture on the G12) the DOF is pretty huge. So it’s tough to isolate your subject against an out of focus background. Even wide open you don’t get the razor-thin DOF you can get with a fast full frame or medium format lens. In many cases you just work with it and use to your advantage. Sometimes you can exaggerate the effect by getting close to your subject.

Still fairly noisy at higher ISOs
I’ve gotten some shots at ISO 1600 or 3200 that I’ve printed and they look pretty good. In-camera JPEG processing does an excellent job at reducing noise, and Lightroom does an excellent job on RAW files as well. I shot RAW+JPEG for a short while before Lightroom was able to read the RAW files, and it has been an interesting comparison between the camera-processed JPEGs and Lightroom processed RAW files.

Lousy audio quality on video
I didn’t buy my G12 for video and consider that to be a specialty that I’m hoping to avoid or stay at the fringes of. The little bit of video I have shot has been interesting but the sound is generally useless. There are probably a number of accessories that could improve that, but for me the whole idea of using this camera is simplicity.

Somewhat limited focal length
It’s the equivalent of 28-140mm so it covers a lot of territory, but it won’t get you a closeup of an elusive grizzly or a closeup of a bee’s knees, but that’s a lot of coverage. You can go longer or closer with accessory lenses, but that kind of defeats the idea of the compact camera.

A little slow focusing
My G12 focuses pretty well with lots of light, but once it gets dark it struggles a bit. It has a nice bright blue focus assist light that annoys anyone else taking pictures of whatever you’re taking a picture of (if they even see it, which they might not!). Don’t count on it focusing on the black bear in the cave.

Optical viewfinder has small area of coverage vs. LCD
I like using an optical viewfinder, and it makes me feel like a doofus to hold camera at arm’s length to take a photo. But the viewfinder on the G12 only has about 77% coverage, so accurate framing is virtually impossible, and with “only” 10 megapixels you don’t want to do a lot of cropping.

I’ve heard a lot of “excuseplanations” about why you shouldn’t buy a particular camera, but this one has a lot going for it, at least as far as I’m concerned!