Sunday, September 05, 2010 03:08

Archive for the ‘Essay: Photography’ Category

Why Do Milton’s Photographs Suck?

Saturday, September 5th, 2009
The Art of Seeing: part III, How to Engage Your Viewers
Photographic Evolution Series

Okay, so here’s the scenario: Milton spent his vacation in Panguitch, Utah. He spent a week there one day, photographing anything that didn’t run away. Now he’s invited a neighbor over for BBQ and has spread his bounteous Panguitch pictures before him. Milton’s neighbor, although happy with the quality of food is less happy about the quality (and quantity) of Milton’s photographs. But, the neighbor’s a good sport. He endures the evening – making a mental note to always be busy the week Milton returns home from vacation.

This is a funny story, right? Or, is it sad. The philosophers among us may ask, is it better to avoid Milton or to avoid being like Milton? They may further question, is it better to tell Milton that his pictures suck – in the name of preventing his future embarrassment – or to grin and bear it as did Milton’s neighbor?

Milton’s enthusiasm is clear. His pictures are his memories. His motive in taking them is to preserve and later relive those memories, those emotions. Photographs are tickets to an emotional memory. Of course they are valuable to us! Even a clumsy snapshot can be valuable to one who was close enough to the subject and/or moment. That doesn’t mean, however, that my clumsy snapshot is going to be of interest to you . . .

And, thus it is with Milton. Milton sees Aunt Stella’s joy during last summer’s holiday BBQ, not the clumsy framing with the distracting tree branch growing out of her left ear. He doesn’t notice the harsh, patchy shadows falling across her torso or that her face is in such deep shawdow that it’ difficult to see detail.

Milton sees his wife’s happy face, not the raccoon-eye shadows caused by harsh, overhead daylight.

Milton sees a cute night shot of his daughter pointing gleefully at the distant fire engine pulling from its garage. He fails to see his daughter is harshly lit by on-camera flash, and all else in the picture is varying shades of black. Instead, he tells of the wonder in her voice as she watched the fire house come to life and the truck pull off, sirens blaring. Milton’s images are full of emotion – to him . . .

Truthfully, isn’t this the reason we take pictures? Isn’t there some root emotion behind each click of the shutter? Like Milton, many of us take pictures to preserve special moments. Others take pictures to capture a slice of the wonderment around us. In either case, a common root is emotion. We take pictures for emotional reasons.

Cameras are machines, incapable of emotion, wonderment, or thought. They are capture devices designed to capture rough approximations of reality. They compress our reality into their own version of reality, a flat, two-dimensional image. It’s the photographer’s job to manipulate these capture devices to improve upon the camera’s rendering of reality. It’s the photographer who must inject technique to compensate for, and overcome, the limitations of the camera. The mind behind the camera is more significant in the creation of a successful image than is the camera.

We, as photographers, must own the capture process. Recognizing that emotion will make or break an image, we must task ourselves to look for the emotional impact in our subject and find the best way to artfully convey it. Although Milton may have been spot-on in recognizing the emotional aspect present in some of his captures, he failed to inject the technique necessary to overcome his camera’s limitations and present his subjects artfully. Milton’s images fail to evoke emotion in his viewers. So, that’s why Milton’s pictures suck. They are emotionally flat to all but those close to the moment the pictures were taken.

Some thoughts on improving the viewer friendliness of our images:
1) Recognize that our goal is to draw emotion from our viewers. This is the ultimate objective. If the viewer doesn’t feel something when viewing an image, the viewer will not linger.
2) Learn to recognize the inherent emotional character of each scene. What motivates you to take the picture? This is the foundation upon which that image should be built.
3) Learn to use compositional tools to artfully enhance the presentation of your image: to pleasingly tell a story about the emotion you found in the subject.
4) Use compositional techniques to return a sense of depth to the otherwise flat image the camera will create.
5) Recognize that not every image, no mater how you work to pack it with emotional charge, will speak to every viewer. We all come from different backgrounds and will be more motivated by one subject than another, based upon our cumulative life-experience. Respect that and let it go.
6) Show fewer images! Stop laying out multiple shots of the same subject with only slight variations – unless you are specifically asking for opinion on which is better. Identify and show only your best images from a given shoot.

Think of what Jon Luc Picard, Captain of the Starship Enterprise, may say: “Engage!” That’s it! Simply stated, that’s our goal! We should seek to engage our viewers, sharing emotionally charged moments with them through our photography.

Picture sharing is like good conversation. Good conversation requires both parties to contribute. A warm, heartfelt conversation is not static or one-sided. You engage one and other. Your images represent you in that conversation. If your images feel more like when you talk to yourself, treat them accordingly. Keep them to yourself.

To take our “good conversation” metaphor one step farther: think of someone you know who is a master at conversation. What is it that makes them so engaging? They appeal to our emotions — don’t they?  They help us laugh, cry, think, remember, or see things more clearly. In short, they help us feel something. They create engaging conversation and, in turn, we engage them. We commit our own mind and emotion to the exchange.

So it is in sharing our imagery. As we photograph, we should think in terms of appealing to our viewers’ emotions. Ask: how can I craft this image to help them smile, laugh, cry, think, remember, or to see things more clearly? The dialog between photograph and viewer begins before the shutter button is pressed.

As the eye behind the camera, it’s your job to craft a compelling image using every technique available in illustrating the emotional content of your subject. Succeed at this and it may surprise you to have people ask to see your latest pictures.

Success in Seeing!

-Mike.

Baby-Stepping into Better Photography

Friday, August 21st, 2009
The Art of Seeing: part II, Baby-Stepping into Better Photography
Photographic Evolution Series

Have you encountered people who may not be as eager to view your photographs as you are to show them? They don’t seem interested in your latest photos? Over the years, like many of you, I’ve experienced that too. In this essay, I’ll share with you how to make your photographs more interesting to more people.

Experience has taught that Interesting is defined in the mind of the viewer. So, the first thing we should learn is discretion. Don’t be showing your pictures, indiscriminately, to everybody. Learn to recognize your audience: who will most likely want to see your images and who will not. Not everybody will find your images interesting.

Second, and perhaps most important to building good will and support within your audience, is to show only your best images. Do not show images you know to be sub-par. Do not show near duplicate images. Do not show anything that you need to explain. For example, “I know you can’t really see it, but that little grayish thingy beneath that middle bush is a Jackalope. If you could see it better, you’d see it has horns. It’s a cross between an antelope and a jackrabbit. Typically, they only live in Wyoming, so when I saw this little fella’ in Minnesota, I just had to photograph it!”

Don’t do it!  Simply don’t show it.

Discretion is the better part of valor. Be a hero. Respect your audience. Only show your best work, and in limited quantity.

Okay, steps one and two are the easy part. Now that you’ve got a handle on them, let’s move on.

Next, another somewhat obvious point: make sure you know how to use your camera. Take the time, before you need to get that one-special shot, to learn your camera. Know what each of the modes are and why you would use them. Practice a lot. It’s digital. It costs you relatively little to take lots of practice shots. You don’t have to print them. You don’t even have to keep them – but, please, do take them!

As stated earlier, Interesting is defined in the mind of the viewer; however, there are specific things that we, as picture makers, can do to improve the viewability of our images. In my opinion, there are three key factors that most anyone can learn to recognize and employee that will speedily improve your photographs’ crowd pleasing potential.

First, recognize that you – as a picture maker – have an obligation to your viewer to present interesting images. The viewer’s interest is kindled by the image maker’s interest in the subject and skill in communicating that interest.

Next, consider why you’re compelled to make the image. I call this the first look factor. Simply stated, it’s what first drew your attention to the scene or, said another way; it’s your motive for making the picture. If you can’t clearly articulate your motive, if there is no passion, your prospective viewer will likely not find interest in the resulting photograph.

Third, is the way we organize ALL visual elements in the image. There are some tried and tested tools to help us with this decision. Some people call these tools the rules of composition. I simply say: composition rules!

As I’ve stated in a previous essay, the quickest route to improved photography is to learn to compose well. True, as discussed above, composition in only one among many aspects of photography; however, no single concept well learned will more quickly raise your images from mundane to pleasing.

As photographers, our composition tool box is brimming with tools to help make more interesting, compelling images – to visually code our interest and passion in the subject so it becomes apparent to all. It could be argued that good composition is the keystone to good photography.

I’ll address composition in future essays. In this essay, I’ve provided six thought nuggets. One, the First Look Factor, may be worth a closer look. I’ve written about it previously – as it applies to the critique of other photographers’ work. It’s the same principle, just a slightly different application. Reading about it may be of value, too, if you’d like to explore that concept further.

You can read my thoughts on the art of critique by clicking here:
http://www.foxcreekphoto.com/blog/?p=12

Until next time . . .

Cheers,
-Mike.

Let’s Get Grounded!

Saturday, June 13th, 2009

The Art of Seeing: part I, Introduction
Photographic Evolution Series

This next set of essays will focus (excuse the pun) on what makes a good photograph, well . . . good.

We’ll discuss the new-age question of getting it right in camera as opposed to fixing it later, in your image-processing software. Also, we’ll consider a topic near and dear to the heart of photo-viewers everywhere: what makes a photograph interesting? We’ll explore several key methods to improve your photographs.

If you succeed in harnessing these techniques, your audience will thank you and may even ask to see more of your images. Imagine that! To be asked for more photos instead of having to pursue your audience with baying hounds until they submit.

As camera people, there are steps we can take to better facilitate the image-sharing process. Like so many things in life, most of these steps are mental exercises. Although not excruciating, they will require some commitment to master – to become reflex. Developing these reflexes is the single most important process to budding photographers. It will become their foundation, their grounding.

Photography is much more than point-and-shoot. When pointing our camera at a subject, the simple act of releasing the shutter doesn’t guarantee a captured slice of reality. Cameras compress three dimensional scenes into boxed, two dimensional images. Spatial relationships are altered and dynamic scenes can be rendered flat, with diminished perceived depth.

Cameras may be limited in what detail and perspective they can capture, but the human mind is not. Ansel Adams, a master image maker from the Black and White genre, recognized the shortfall of photographic capture equipment. He devised a regimented workflow from pre-capture visualization to post-capture processing. His entire workflow existed to infuse the image with a sense of energy that had originally attracted him to the scene. It was Adam’s mind that made his work stellar, not his equipment.

So, in the next several essays, let’s explore the art of seeing. We’ll talk about baby-steps to better photography, “Rules” of composition, and defining your subject. We’ll discuss why and how to simplify your subject. We’ll also blueprint a sure-fire way to draw a more favorable response from your viewing audience.

Not everybody raising a camera to their eye is an artist. This may be true; however, anyone who desires to take better pictures can do so. It requires only a commitment to learn and a little practice.

As always, I like to keep things light. I’m easily bored when material gets too dry, so be forewarned! I’ll likely take a jab-or-two at your funny bone as merrily we roll along.

Stay Tuned,
-Mike.

The Art of Critique

Sunday, May 17th, 2009

Why learn to Critique?
Reason #1: Learn to critic as a mind/vision-expanding exercise. Art criticism can be a valuable teaching aid in our own photographic evolution. In learning to “see” the design elements employed by accomplished photographers – and being able to describe them in coherent terms – can speed the development of our own photographic vision.

Have you ever kept a journal? Used a day planner? Explained something to a coworker? If so, you’ve likely experienced clarification of thought. Committing your thoughts to some organized means of conveyance can provide insight and clarity. Same is true with critique. In analyzing what works for others (and what doesn’t), you’ll soon expand your own arsenal of technique.

Reason #2: I like this quote. It’s from North Carolina State University’s photojournalism website: “Photographers who do not have every assignment critiqued (a) are not completing the assignment; and (b) will not improve. It is the job of the photographer to sit down with someone trained to critique photos after every assignment.”

Accepting critique from others can be awkward, unless you understand the concept. I’ve found that, once I came to understand and appreciate the tenets of critique, I actively sought objective critiques from respected photographers. Before that, it was awkward and I occasionally got hurt feelings – even though no malice had been intended.

To be critiqued, I suggest you join a camera club or join up with one of the many online photo-communities. My personal favorite, due to the helpful critiques frequently offered there, is usefilm.com. At UseFilm, I’ve found many who offer legitimate critiques. It’s always nice to get the quick blurb, “Great Shot!” but that’s like sugar – the high quickly wears off and you’re left with nothing substantial. There is a committed band of members at UseFilm who take critiquing seriously. Check them out . . .

As an aside, I’m working on an essay that will feature the work of one of my favorite shooters from the UseFilm family. It’s a spectacular image and I think you’ll want to see it. Check back to catch it!

What, exactly, is Critique?
To critique is not to criticize (IMO: criticize = fault finding, harsh judgment, and making it personal). I believe that art criticism should be a positive experience, beneficial to both the artist and the individual offering critique.

Wikipedia, that invaluable online encyclopedia, describes art criticism as “the written discussion or evaluation of visual art” from an “informed interpretation” perspective. They continue: “Art critics usually criticize art in the context of aesthetics or the theory of beauty. One of criticism’s goals is the pursuit of a rational basis for art appreciation.”

So, simply stated, to critique IS NOT to put somebody down – it’s not a personal attack. To critique is to offer your interpretation of that artist’s work and to, perhaps, offer thoughts on an alternative technique or approach that may, from your point of view, strengthen the image. If both parties understand the process, it’s win-win!

I’m sure you’ll recognize the subjective nature of critique. Two of us may look at the same photograph, yet be impacted differently. It’s kind of a stimulus and response thing. My response is governed by the interpretive filters I’ve grown over the years (communication theory dribble for my Communications Major buddies!). So, there really is no right or wrong opinion. That’s a pretty big safety net. Jump in!

How to Critique?
I exercise a three-pronged approach to critique: I consider the emotional draw, artistic design, and technical aspects. What follows is my own, personal framework. As you become more adept at “reading” photography, you’ll likely develop your own approach. Meanwhile, if you find it useful, please use mine.

First, I consider what initially sparked my interest in the image? I call this the First Look Factor, or the emotional draw. What does the image make me feel or think? I like to deal with this topic first because I’m a very visual processor. To me, this is the bottom line. I’m a numbers’ guy by training, so I find it natural to immediately drop to the bottom line: what does this image do for me?

I articulate my attraction. I refuse to compromise by simply accepting that I either like or dislike it. I compel myself to discuss, why. I seldom share the entirety of my thinking with the artist, but I make sure I’m conversant on the “emotional draw” aspect before attempting to write a critique. This becomes the foundation for my critique.

I make notes on a scratch pad as I consider the emotional draw question.

Second, how did the artist treat the subject from a compositional design standpoint? After I’ve quantified the emotional draw, I’m better able to objectively search the image for the artistic design elements employed.

Here, I consider the subject. Is it simplified or complex? What contextual clues can I spot to define the subject’s relationship to place? I next look for compositional components: both obvious and subtle. How did the artist use light, shadow, space, perspective, color, texture, lines, and pattern to engage the viewer and enhance the subject? I make notes.

I name the compositional elements I think were handled well. I look for things that could have been done differently that may possibly improve the image (assuming the opportunity existed – my subjective opinion). I write these things on my scratch pad.

And, finally, I seek to interpret the technical aspects of the image: how the photographer pulled it all together – both in camera and in post-processing. I look at focus. Are the right things in sharp relief? What about depth of field? Do I find sharp things in the foreground or background that would be better rendered out of focus?

I look at the impact of lighting. Does it exhibit either masterful manipulation (in shooting portraits and such) or the patience of Job (landscapes)? In either case, it exhibits knowledge and a calculated discipline. I make another note.

After I’ve completed my note-taking review, I then seek to pull it all together – typically in my word processor. Once satisfied with how I’ve presented my thoughts (paying particular attention to my “tone”), I’ll copy it into the critique window (when I’m critiquing online). However, if I’ll soon be face-to-face with the artist, I’ll share it with them verbally.

In summary, my three-pronged critique style:
- Describe the emotional draw (First Look Factor)
- Consider the compositional elements
- Discuss the technical aspects

Your Turn . . .
Bottom line? Don’t you dare think you can’t critique! You do have eyes, right? Can you tell when you’re drawn to an image? Can you say why? There you go. You’ve just written your first critique!

What I’ve outlined here are not cast-in-stone rules. They’re only guidelines. This approach works for me. You may find another approach better suits your style. That’s fine. The important thing is to look at a lot of high-quality images and learn from them.

Even if you know nothing about composition or the technical aspects of photography, you DO know when you like an image. So, let that be your critique. That’s why I always start with the emotional draw. It’s starting with the obvious. It’s easy.

Many times, when I critique, I may not share anything but the emotional draw. But I’m always specific. If you’re not specific, your comments are not helpful to the artist or to you.

Always be specific. This compels you to think it through before you write about it.

I’ve found it helpful to be organized in my approach. That’s why I’ve adopted the three-pronged approach I’ve outlined here. I find my commitment to this process better educates me . . .

Open to criticism ;o)
-Mike.


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