Traveling with Cameras Redux: The Take

I don’t think of myself as either a landscape or a travel photographer.  Like many of us I get lucky sometimes. But I’m certainly not going to sit around for 6 hours waiting for just the right light like some people do.  More power to them, I just don’t have it in me.  If I see something I’ll stop the car, that’s about as fancy as I get. I’m more interested in the experience than the results with trips like this.

So what follows are a few of the pictures that I think came out pretty well.  For those wondering: 5D2, 50/1.4, 28/1.8.

Traveling with Cameras

For some people, the whole point of going on a trip is to take pictures.  Their itinerary is based on this fact.  Where they’re going to be at what time of day to get what images.  In fact there is a whole cottage industry built around organizing these trips.  I used to be more like that than I am now. I’ve become divided on the issue. One part of me thinks that I take pictures all the time, so when on vacation I should put the camera down.  That it may be the only time when I’m not connected to staring at a screen for hours or trying to figure out lighting scenarios.  The problem is that I’m  a location traveller which means I don’t go sit on a beach (I’d rather stay home and work), but instead go places where I can see things. Be it a city, or art, or mountains. Many of these things are gorgeous and then I kick myself for not bringing a good camera.

Last year I was out west at Zion, Bryce Canyon, and the Grand Canyon National Parks and brought a G10 I borrowed from my friend Meg, as well as my 5D with a 24-105/4 zoom on it.  The pictures disappointed me overall, especially the G10 jpegs which were blown-out and ugly.  I know, I should have shot RAW with it, but using a little camera was all about not thinking too much about the pictures.  Kinda bit me in the ass.

I’ve tried to head all this off at the pass a couple of times by simplifying what I bring down to almost nothing.  One film camera, one lens, a bunch of film. Hasselblad in Japan last year and Leica in Puerto Rico this past spring. This is a cool way to work, but expensive. Film and processing alone for the Japan trip was about $500 for only about 30 rolls. Then there were the days of scanning the frames that I liked, just to get me to the point where digital would have gotten me right off.  I kinda wish I had the best of both worlds in say a Leica M9.  Small, fast, simple, great image quality.  But unfortunately I can’t spend another ten grand on a camera.

Tomorrow I’m heading out west again to Yosemite and Death Valley., both of which I’ve been to twice already. This complicates things because I’ve taken a lot of pictures there.  I’ve recreated the Ansel Adams shots that all of us have done.  But what’s the point? Ansel’s were better than mine will ever be (see mine above).  Plus we got stuck in a sand storm last time which ruined my 28mm prime in short order.  Had to have the thing rebuilt by Canon for a couple hundred bucks.

So in the end I’m going to pack a small digital kit.  Probably 28mm, and 50mm, primes.  The lighter, cheaper ones, and maybe the 35mm for good measure since it’s so nice and sharp.  5D Mark 2 body.  A couple of big CF cards and a battery charger.  In comparison to what I know some of you bring with you, this is a small day pack for a hike, but I’m pretty minimal.  I don’t want the camera to get in the way of experiencing taking the picture, or get in the way of the trip for that matter.  The one thing I can’t decide on is whether to bring a tripod.  Not that I need it for most of my stuff, but maybe for panoramas or night photography of star fields and such?  Ya, I think I just talked myself into it.

Now if I can just get a video of the stones moving at Racetrack Playa, then I’ll be in business.

Lest Ye Be Judged

Earlier this week I had the honor of judging a competition for the Park West Camera Club.  I had done this one other time a few months ago, but on that night it was 3 of us anonymously rating the images 1-10, which was fun and interesting though at times surprisingly difficult.  On Monday however I was the only judge, and not only did I have to grade them A B or C but I had to give comments on why.  Now this would be fine for a handful of pictures, but I there were something like 68 digital images, 30 prints, and 16 slides over the course of over 2 hours.  It doesn’t need to be said, but it was mentally exhausting.

However it was fun nonetheless and many of the people came up after and asked me questions about my comments even when I was negative, everyone seemed to take them well.  The thing is, it’s just one person’s opinion, mine.  I started the whole thing off by saying that I was going to be honest and not sugarcoat anything, but if you disagree with me well then disregard everything I say and make your art the way you want to make it.  

That’s the question really, who am I to be commenting on their work as some sort of expert.  I mean, I know how to take a picture and everything but there’s so much more in there.  Maybe I’m cranky today, maybe I don’t like cats or pretty landscapes or whatever.  For example, I definitely have a bias against that nasty WAY overcooked HDR look that was all the rage a couple of years ago.  There are people who do it amazingly well, but most don’t.  And so HDR photos tended to lose points for it even though someone else may have said it was a lovely image. And some of the photos were lovely. Some of these photographers are really great.  I guess you’ve got to take comments with a big giant grain of salt.  I’ve had big dog photographers tell me to remove certain images from my portfolio which another big dog said was some of my best work. You just never know.

The funny thing is that when I was looking at the images and making the comments it felt pretty natural, because I was doing to them what I do to my own work while I’m editing down a shoot or retouching. Photography is truly an iterative pursuit for me.  How can I take this image and make it better?  Ok, how can I make it better than that?  More contrast? Less saturation? Straighten? Crop?  Some of you might be thinking that I’m taking all of the beautiful chaos out of it, and you might be right.  But I’ve learned that most of the images I’m drawn to were not a result of chance, but rather that of pure determination.  I was hard on them the other night, but I’m even harder on myself most of the time.  Maybe I should give a class just on image review and choosing the best shots. That could be interesting.

I think if there were a comment that overarched the whole thing is that many of the photographs felt like the photographer was scared to make a decision. Either they need to be wider to show more of the surroundings or they need to crop in and highlight the important stuff. Instead too many of them sat on some kind of middle ground of mediocrity where they wouldn’t offend anybody at all  but also didn’t really connect with anybody either.

A number of people came up to me after and said I was one of the better judges they’ve had which I take as a high compliment.  Mostly it just makes me more eager to find a way to teach, and not a workshop kind of thing, but a proper class where I can really dig in with a group over the course of a semester.  Need to look into that.  At any rate, it was a fun evening and I’d like to thank the club for asking me back as it was a great experience yet again.

Five Years On

It was five years ago tonight that my family and I sat and waited for my father to die. 

I saw what my father had left from his life of 60 years. There were plenty of ‘things’, but those had lost meaning without him. There were the stories and experiences he had, and those remain for a time. And of course there was us. My sister and mother and myself. I made a decision then that I wanted more out of my life than just going with the flow and being a cog in the machine. I then spent the next year searching for something that made me feel special and it turned out that thing was photography.

At the time I was working in advertising, doing graphic design and flash programming, but ultimately these things made me miserable. I wanted to do more than sell toothpaste.  On my deathbed I wanted to be able to smile about what I was leaving the world. I wanted to create instead of consume. 

In many ways, my career as a photographer started on January 1st of 2007 when I started 365portraits.com by going over to my sister’s apt and subjecting her to day one. First step of a journey and all that.  A journey which has led me here, awake at 2:04AM on the anniversary of my father’s death, trying to come to terms with what I haven’t accomplished and how much my life hasn’t changed or worked out the way I imagined. That is however a very silly thing to do, because it completely disregards so much of what has happened. What I’ve experienced and what I have accomplished. 

I’ve had the privilege of meeting and shooting hundreds of subjects in the past 3 years. I’ve shot for a magazines, had full page portraits in TIME and BusinessWeek. Published books of my work, travelled to places around the world, and met the people who make my life worth living. I’m even an uncle now and everything, And hell, right now at SoHo Photo is a solo show of my Drabbles project.  Who would have thought 3.5 years ago that I’d have a show of my photography at a New York City gallery? That’s pretty cool.

Am I where I want to be?  Hell no. There are times when I honestly feel like I’ve failed, or at least am in the process of failing, but I know that’s not fair. Am I where I imagined I’d be 5 years on? Nope.  If I could even define where that is, let alone achieve it, somehow I don’t think that would be the answer either. As frustrating as it is to me, I think that my bliss comes from the process of figuring it out and beating the odds. I have so much more to say on the subject, but I just can’t make sense of it, let alone words of it, at the moment. It’s too late and I’m far too tired.

That said, I’ve often told people to never bet against me, and the next five years are going to be no different. 

Planning an Exhibition

I have the opportunity to show some of my work at a gallery in Sept. This is exciting stuff, and so I thought I’d write a bit about the process so that it may be used as a primer of sorts for those of you who find yourself in a similar situation.

A drabble is precise work of fiction of exactly 100 words. These photographs are intended to be the same: a short story, a moment which needs to be imagined and expanded in the mind of the viewer. It’s a voyeuristic glimpse into someone else’s world, sometimes fantastic or silly; other times scary or even sad.

Cartier-Bresson at MoMA – a quick review

License To Carry

I know a lot of photographers, part of my job I guess.  And many of them carry a camera with them everywhere they go. And I’m not talking about the camera on their phone, I mean anything from a little digital Elph to a D3.  It seems that they always want a camera handy in case life presents a perfect moment to capture.  It’s all very Cartier-Bresson.  I myself don’t do this and a lot of people find that strange.  They constantly ask me, “where’s your camera?”  And I think the answer has a both practical and philosophical answers.

First is the fact that cameras which would take pictures I’d be happy with are heavy. I’m a stickler for image quality and pixel peeping at 100%.  On a trip out west last year I borrowed a friend’s G10 to use instead of having to carry my dslr around on hikes.  While it was handy and reasonably responsive, I have to admit that I was underwealmed by the results.  I was shooting jpeg, which is part of it, but still, the problems were more those of the small sensor and middling optics. If that’s the best that small cameras can do, then I think I’m stuck with the big boys.  A couple of times in the past 4 years, I’ve got it in my head that I wanted to have a little pocket camera to carry, but invariably I end up giving the thing to my mother because I never use them when I buy them.  

As for carrying around my big camera all the time, no thanks. Most of the time I travel I’ve got my 5DII, my Hasselblad 501, or Leica on me, and you notice the weight and annoyance of this thing you’ve got to carry the whole time.  A great photographer I met last month has his D700 with him everywhere.  Bump into him and there is his bag over his shoulder. But the reasoning here gets me to my second point, and that is what kind of pictures do you take?

Your style and goals as a photographer have a lot to do with it.  Most of the people who carry seem to be more along the lines of street photographers. People who walk and notice and capture life.  Whether it’s a old person on a bench, or an interesting juxtaposition of people and their surroundings, or an interesting cloud formation or whatever.  They’re not going out to take specific pictures most of the time, they’re going out LOOKING for pictures.

Now it’s not to say that I don’t notice great potential pictures when I’m out and about, it’s just that actually taking them is not a priority to me.  Most of the time I’m more of a photo Safari one step further removed.  I enjoy seeing the potential picture more than taking it.  This is because the photos I do like to take are deliberate.  If I’m going to take portraits of a person, it’s almost always setup in advance and I have a general idea of where and when and what I’m doing.  I like to spend time with my subjects, not just catch them sitting on a bench in a visually interesting way from 50 feet and 200mm lens. I interact, I don’t hunt. Most of the pictures I take are the kinds of things that could have been painted if it were before the invention of photography.

I also like to take pictures and am careful that I don’t get burnt out on it.  I was asked a number of times at my sister’s baby shower a few weeks ago about why I wasn’t taking pictures.  Well for one, I don’t like taking pictures at events, hell I don’t even like shooting 2 people at once.  And secondly, I’m not working, I’m there to enjoy my sister’s shower. Do people ask a psychologist if they’d like to do a therepy session while they’re at their kids little league game. I love taking portraits, and I call myself a photographer, but it’s what I do not who I am.

Lastly I think it comes down to my experience, which is that when I do carry a camera with me, I’m generally not happy with the results.  They’re never up to my personal standards.  Go out, shoot 30-40 pictures, maybe you get one or two that are actually worth keeping. Maybe every week you get one that’s really superb.  Too much work for too little reward in my opinion. I like to know that when I put in effort, I’m going to make progress and hunting for pictures is too much of a gamble for my temperment.  Different strokes however and there are a ton of photographers past and present whose work I adore and respect that work that way.  The point is that we’re not all the same, and that’s what makes photography interesting. We’ve all got different points of view.

In Camera, Or Not

There’s a philosophical split in the photo world.  And it becomes more and more polarized as digital workflows become completely ingrained and more powerful. And that’s the argument about the need to get the shot “in camera”.  Basically take pictures that don’t need further processing in PhotoShop.

I’m all for getting the picture in camera if you can, but it’s certainly not the only factor.  For  plenty of pictures, time might be a constraint, or it might be impossible to bring or setup the necessary lighting. Maybe you don’t want to lose the connection with the subject while you riddle for 15 minutes trying to get everything perfect. There are plenty of reasons why you can’t.

All of this said, for certain kinds of photographers, getting the pictures right when you click the shutter makes perfect sense. Event and wedding photographers for instance, or photojournalists. The closer you get it in camera, the less time you have to spend after the fact, therefore the more money you make.  But for me, I’m generally trying to get just a handful of final images from my shoots and I don’t mind spending time to get them perfect in my mind. In fact I like the post-production process.  And maybe that’s it, some people just don’t enjoy that half. They see it as work where the shooting part isn’t.

I’ve recently heard arguments which put make this about the craft of photography.  Essentially, that if you can’t get the picture in camera, then you’re not good enough. Personally I think this is something of a red herring.  This is an argument I often hear from, shall we say, more senior members of the photographic world. It often goes along with a, “In my day…” kind of speech.  The ability to editing things so fast in a computer makes it too easy in their eyes.  The thing is, they used film mostly.  It’s not like they were using collodion glass plates and albumen prints.  How many of them processed their own film and made their own prints? Back then manipulation of the image was by use of different developers or more contrasty papers. People use the tools they have available in their time, and change is hard on everybody. I for instance don’t really look forward to the fad of photographers shooting video footage.  I like shooting stills. Maybe that makes me a Luddite.

I couldn’t have gotten a number of my Drabbles series of picture without extensive post work. Sure, some were pretty much as they were in the camera, but a number of them took many hours of work.  Just because PhotoShop is powerful doesn’t mean that it’s easy. Sure, I can teach my mom to remove a zit with the healing brush, but could she put together seamless composites?  A power saw is fast and relatively easy to use, but that doesn’t make us all Norm Abram.  There is just as much craft in retouching as there is in camera work. Why do you think the best in the business make a thousand bucks an hour? And I think the bias towards the latter being a ‘better’ craft is a prejudice that should be given up.  Both have their place and the space between them is a continuum.  I consider myself well skilled in the ‘craft’ of photography.  Of working with light and exposure and with what I’m given in a particular situation. In fact, I don’t generally do much if anything to pictures I shoot on film.  But I also understand the advantages of being able to take those pictures to the next level in post.  There is art in each, and in both together.  To each his own.

Subject’s Primer

Because of the way I take pictures, I’ve had one-on-one portrait experiences with literally hundreds and hundreds of people.  It’s my preferred way to work, and over this time my bed-side manner has slowly been refined for me to get the kind of pictures I want out of the subject. The one thing I can’t control however is the subject themselves and how they come into the experience.  So I thought I’d write a subject’s primer so that they know what to expect.  Hopefully this will be interesting and helpful to those who will eventually sit for me.

The first point I’d like to make is pretty obvious: Relax. Getting your picture taken should not be a stressful and is certainly not a painful experience. There is no ‘doing it wrong’. I for one don’t bite, and I have the additional quality of finding just about everyone interesting in some way.  Whether it’s what you do, or where you’re from, or how you work, where you’ve been or any number of topics.  So if I chat you up, it’s mostly because I’m having fun. Most people are nervous that I’m not going to take a good picture of them, or that they’ll look stupid or unattractive.  The thing is, being nervous tends to make all of these things more likely, not less. You can see it on people’s faces in pictures. Humans are designed to pick up on facial cues like those. It sometimes takes a good while to get someone from the state they’re in when they walk in the door to the point where they open up and we can really get to work.  This is the real problem with really short sessions I sometimes get for magazine shoots.  It’s not that I can’t take the kind of pictures I want in 10 minutes, it’s that I can’t always get the subject to the point where they’re invested in the pictures in that amount of time, but I digress.

The second point is that getting your picture taken is an active proposition. It’s not so much you sitting quietly over there and me ‘taking’ a picture of you. It’s rather an unfortunate word for what’s going on. You are not a mannequin, and I will need your attention. It’s a collaborative process, and when it’s really going well I liken it to a dance. The point is that you need to allow me to take a good picture as much as I need to want to take it. Read that last sentence again, it’s important. Sitting for me is a partnership of give and take.  Now that doesn’t mean that you have to pose like you’re on Next Top Model, though every once in a while it does mean that, but rather that you have to let down your guard and trust me. It’s interesting that the simple act of getting your picture taken is sometimes a very intense experience, especially when it’s one-on-one, the way I prefer to shoot.  When everything is clicking it can be terribly intimate, and I mean that in the best way possible.  It’s that experience that keeps me coming back for more.

Just remember that it’s my job to take photographs of you, and I’m very good at it. Letting your guard down is not a bad thing.  I’m not there to take advantage of you, or to trick you into anything. I’m honestly there to take the best photographs I can. My process doesn’t always work. I’m also not the combative type of photographer who taunts the subject to get what they want by whatever means necessary. Karsh famously grabbed the cigar from Churchill’s mouth to get the scowl he wanted. I can respect that approach, and it’s arguable that it can be more consistent, but I think it often misses the magic moments that I thrive on, despite being somewhat less reliable.

As for things to prepare, a change of clothes or two can help if the feel isn’t quite right, and for people with longer hair, ways to put it up or back are often helpful.  Most of the time it’s really about just bringing yourself and a good attitude.

If anyone has any questions or comments that could add to this, please let me know in the comments so I can improve it over time.

Knowing when NOT to take pictures

Just a quick little observation that I’ve had rattling around my mind for the past few days. With the proliferation of digital cameras, with their red eye reduction pre-flashes and blindingly bright rear LCD screens, it seems like everybody has a camera with them at all times.  Now I’m not talking about people who carry a little camera just in case they see something that might make a nice picture on the way home from work.  I’m talking about the people who are taking pictures CONSTANTLY.  People really need to learn when NOT to take pictures.

Last weekend I was at a concert at swanky venue here in NYC called City Winery.  It was nice enough and the food was very tasty. Try the short rib if you ever find yourself there. But the tables are packed together tight like at a jazz club where you end up sharing tables with people you’ve never met.  The two middle age men next to us were friendly enough, but then the performer took the stage and within minutes and without end, they proceeded to pull out and set up a digital audio recorder with stereo external microphone (this doesn’t bother me as it largely invisible), a flip HD video camera (which does bother me because it’s propped up on the table in front of me with it’s LCD blaring), and finally each had a small pocket digital camera. For the entire 90 minutes they were constantly holding the cameras up at head height and a foot or two away from their heads and snapping away.  No only was it massively distracting to everyone around them, but camera flashes are annoying as shit when you’re alone with a guitar up on stage trying to play.

Why are they taking pictures? Especially with a flash.  So they’ve got 50 terrible, direct-flash shots of Bob Mould from the right-hand side. You and everyone around you is paying good money to hear someone play music, so sit back and LISTEN to the music instead of taking crappy pictures the entire time.  At the very least turn off your flash and screen and do it a bit more discreetly.  Now I’m not a confrontational person, so I just sat there fuming instead of getting in an argument with the guy, but I still feel like people should know better.

Also if you see someone famous at a restaurant or on the street, they probably just want to be left alone.  So why don’t you keep the camera in your purse and not take it out and gawk and make everyone around you uncomfortable.

The information revolution has given you the tools that let you carry around a camera everywhere you go, but only you can know when not to use it. It’s just the same as your computer letting you use 23 different fonts in your book club newsletter, but you shouldn’t do that either.  Everyone grow a conscience, a sense of decency, and at least a modicum of respect for those around you. Not everything needs a picture taken of it.  Some things are better left alone.