I don’t do it all the time, but if I can get under a mushroom I will. Well, not me exactly, I’m not Alice, but my camera. For these first two images I used the wider end of my 12-35mm lens. The first one was on a tripod, the second literally on the ground with sticks and the lens cap acting as shims to get the camera level. The perspective is terrific and it shows off those beautiful gills.
Sometimes the structures that hold and release spores are a bit different like with boletes that have an underside that looks like a sponge. I recently found out that a single mushroom can release millions of spores in a single day. They do this every day it fruits pretty much. Amazing.
In addition to gills and pores there are also teeth. The idea of toothed fungus makes me a little giggly, but that’s how they’re categorized. This one happily turned itself inside out so I could get a peek at those teeth. I shot this with a medium telephoto because it was way inside a bunch of bushes that I had to hold out of the way to get this shot. I couldn’t tell it was a toothed mushroom until I looked at it on the computer. And the ID took a while because this is a remarkably pristine specimen. The ones in my books were ragged, dirty and stained. Just lucky I guess.
Here’s another example of a toothed mushroom –
It’s sometimes called a hedgehog mushroom (aka Hydnum repandum) and is not only edible, but reportedly delicious. Now I know where they grow (some chanterelles conveniently nearby) I can gather them next year and have a taste. I could use my tripod to shoot that image (and many others from the down low) because I do not have the center post attached. My particular model came with one, but it is removable and so the legs splay to 90 degrees and the head touches the ground. Very handy. If you want to do a lot of this type of work either take out your center post or get a tripod that doesn’t have one to begin with.
It is occasionally a bit of work to get under a small mushroom that isn’t on a nice stump or log. Usually there are only little slopes and depressions in the forest floor, but sometimes the tripod in its lowest position is too high. In those cases I reach for my homemade beanbag camera prop. Then I can usually get low enough since it’s only a couple inches thick. I use a 1 quart ziplock bag with 2 bags of barley inside it. I’ve stuck some friction tape to one side of it to keep the camera from sliding. And, as I mentioned above, sometimes I still use sticks and/or my lens cap to shim. It’s magical when I can get so low that the foreground changes dramatically and helps me highlight only the cap, which adds a dash of mystery.
I also like the foreshortened perspective that helps to emphasize the mushroom, not where it fruits. And there’s the lovely bokeh that often comes with shooting in dappled sunlight.
In the end, there are only so many ways to shoot mushrooms, but up from under is usually a winner!
Do you fuel your fire or let it go out?
Today I went with a friend to shoot the sunrise. I know this lake fairly well and know how few places there are with compelling or even just plain usable foreground elements. It’s always a tough shoot unless you have a lot of time or have scouted beforehand. With my friend’s back being very painful, I knew we couldn’t walk far from the parking lot and I hoped against hope I’d find something, but doubted I would.
What an attitude huh? I’d practically given up before I’d even started. Whatta dope.
It got worse. I actually took the filter holder off my camera and put the whole rig away! I stood around chatting with Denise about how I wasn’t feeling it. She was moving around and trying things. What the hell was I doing? Being an idiot.
So I decided that was stupid and went off hunting. Down by the foundation of an old boathouse I found something…not quite in time for the pre-dawn light, but in time to catch the sun as it crested and lit up the reeds in the foreground. I was thrilled to find that crack in the ice, too. It won’t win any awards, but it isn’t crap either. Finding it made the whole morning worth it and I felt instantly better. Suddenly I was a photographer again.
I’m glad I made the effort. I wasn’t feeling it when I got to the location, but neither was I trying to feel it. I wasn’t fueling my fire, I was letting it die. Some photographer, huh? How many times have you been tempted to give in and stop shooting when you get on location? Do you work your way through it or do you tell yourself you’re being a discerning photographer and not wasting your time? Attitude and expectations are everything on some shoots. Don’t give up. Go hunting. Stay engaged. Look around. Fuel your fire!
In the course of a day I look at hundreds of photographs. By participating in Google+, forums, flickr, 500px and other photo communities it’s easy to do. One thing that has been getting my attention is that people don’t seem to understand white balance and its importance. Mainly I notice it when there is water involved. Blue waterfalls everywhere. Is the world running with mouthwash? Crazy. I also notice it in woodland shots that are clearly taken in daytime, but look really odd and blue. Too cold by far. Mostly it’s white balance which is nothing more than color temperature and can be easily adjusted. Correct white balance and overall color temperature is the most important thing in making sure your colors are accurate. Well, that and monitor calibration, but since you can’t correctly calibrate every monitor in the world, just do your own and let it go.
Folks who shoot in raw often don’t care about white balance in camera because they can always fix it later. To some degree I’m guilty of this, but try to match my wb in the field to what the light actually looks like. It’s tons easier to do it there than after the fact when you might be too removed from the moment to remember what your eyes saw. Most cameras have auto-white balance which is a place to start, but be aware that most cameras aren’t accurate. Here’s an example:
This is my friend Melissa coming down through the Magical Birch Glade in the NH White Mountains.
It was early afternoon and while there weren’t a lot of leaves left on the trees, there were quite a few. The light in autumn afternoons around here is golden and soft. At this time of day it’s not as warm as it gets later, but the yellow leaves made it more so. Take a look at the birch trunks…they appear sort of blueish. They didn’t really look that way. To anyone not with us that day, this picture would be fine, but it doesn’t tell the whole story. For an October day it was warm; in the 80s. Does this picture convey warmth to you at all? And that golden afternoon light I talked about, don’t you want to see it?
The first thing to do is to check your scene in the field and try to match it in your live view screen to as best you can. Probably you won’t get it exactly, but close is good. Try daylight, cloudy, shade, flash – all of them are different temperatures and you can see their effects in the LCD screen. When you get your shots into your computer the first thing to do is adjust the white balance. Many photo editing packages have set their tools in order of precedence, in other words they are in a rough order of how you should use them with white balance at the top of the stack. So with all other changes being the same between shots and only the white balance changed, here’s the Magical Birch Glade –
OK, maybe that one was too subtle. Check this one out.
This is the Little River in Twin Mountain where the Twin Mountain north trailhead is. It was taken just a few hours after the shot in the MBG; farther into that mellow warmth. You wouldn’t know it from this though, would you? This is really the bane of my existence when I look at other people’s images. Blue water. Blue rocks. Blue tree trunks. Come on people. Pay attention! Unless these things really were blue, adjust your white balance.
It’s easy to do. Most editing packages have presets like daylight and cloudy as well as a slider that will let you put the temperature somewhere in the middle. It’s not hard. And look what a difference it makes.
Check out the trees, too – the color pops a lot more and the whole scene is more inviting. Only the white balance is different between the two shots. Here’s another one that’s even more dramatic.
My husband and I went walking in a state park the other day. Unfortunately it’s been closed due budget constraints, but we jumped the fence (as everyone is free to do, you just can’t drive in anymore). What have I been banging on about in this whole post besides white balance?
What are we trying to photograph, folks? Light of course. And nothing is more wonderful than soft, warm late afternoon light in October. It’s truly special. Believe it or not that’s what I saw in the shot here. But the camera doesn’t see like the brain sees and so it’s off. Way off. If you weren’t there of course you wouldn’t know, but the whole point of sharing photos is to bring other people into your world. To show them a little of what you experience and find delight in. Personally I don’t find much to delight in with the before picture. Straight out of the camera be damned. Now for the correction –
Now that’s the scene that made me stop. The trees and their shadows, the couple and the light all made me stop and shoot. Look at that light, would you? It’s lickable. And isn’t that what it’s all about?
Recently I participated in a discussion that stemmed from a person wondering about the composition of a very famous photo by a very famous photographer; Henri Cartier-Bresson. Specifically the person wanted to understand why this image is composed so amazingly well.
It got me to thinking about photography and the importance of concentration in the sense of a Major in College. Cartier-Bresson had a very specific concentration and didn’t experiment wildly with either his subject matter or his equipment. Instead he applied his passion to what amounts to one genre and that, combined with his instinctive artistic sensibility, makes his work compelling, cohesive and unique.
Often when I look at someone’s photo stream or gallery, I don’t see much cohesion. Mostly this applies to amateurs, not people making a living with this. Many photo-enthusiasts seem to sprawl all over the place, never picking a major. They spend a lot of time experimenting not only with subject matter, but equipment as well. They might get a really good photo now and again, but not many. That’s especially sad if the person has been at it for years. To me, as someone looking at what they’ve produced, it is obvious they haven’t mastered anything and don’t look as if they intend to.
That’s one thing I also look for; intent, craft, vision – progress. A specialized style and body of work that shows me they can direct their passion into one channel and really develop expertise. Speaking for myself, I think I’ve improved. My focus lately is woodlands and attempting to capture intimate portraits of the forest and what I find so magical about being in one. Does that make my photos repetitive and boring? I hope not, but then again, I don’t really care. I value my concentration not only for what it produces for images, but for the process itself – it builds muscle memory and good instincts.
By instinct in this case, I mean an instant sense of what will make a good photograph. I don’t claim to know the circumstances under which Mr. Cartier-Bresson made the image above, but I bet he didn’t overthink it. I bet he didn’t stop forever at the top of those stairs and manipulate the camera in every conceivable way before deciding on this composition. I bet it was instinctive. Even if he asked a bicyclist to work with him to make the shot, it was Cartier-Bresson’s knowledge that if he put such a person in that spot it would be amazing. He knew it would be especially good if the rider were blurred. The sense of motion we already get from the swirling steps is almost enough to make the image outstanding, but that bit of activity, of life, really makes it amazing and irreplaceable. Even if this shot wasn’t especially difficult, planned or set up, Cartier-Bresson never-the-less worked on it. His photography career and the hours he put in at his Major produced it. That was the work. And it paid off every time he picked up a camera.
Experimenting and practicing within a specific sphere of photography allows you to build a library of facts, techniques, outcomes and lessons that help you make better decisions in the field. By making better decisions you get better results. By developing good habits you save time and have less frustrating experiences. Eventually habits become instinct. For me, having a foundation of good habits and instinct leaves me more brain power to devote to the finer points of composition, light, perspective, depth-of-field and other technical choices. More keepers is what it comes down to. Expertise is a nice thing to have.
As a novice it’s natural to try lots of things. The world of photography is new and exciting and when I look at my pictures from that time, I smile indulgently at myself. It’s an important time though. We learn the rules and try to play by them, hopefully realizing in the process why they are rules and why they work. I’m talking the rule of thirds, the golden ratio, leading lines and ideas like that. Once understood and applied, they help whatever artistic sensibility you have become more substantive and less theoretical. After looking at shots you’ve taken where you forgot the rules and have crappy photos, it doesn’t take long for the rules to become habit and hopefully instinct.
That said, I don’t think you can really excel unless you pick a major. Ok, I’ll let you have a minor, too, but diluting the craft over lots and lots of genres won’t help you become an expert in any. If you want to be a landscape photographer, do it. Do it more often than you take pictures of your kids. If you want to be a macro photographer, do it more than you take pictures of buildings. If you want to be a street photographer, do it more than you take pictures of your vegetable garden. At first quantity matters more than quality and it’s the application of the former that will build the latter.
Like that old Carnegie Hall joke, the secret is practice, practice, practice. But not just snapping away at anything that moves, you have to devote yourself to what you love and be faithful. The rules of photography always apply, but they apply differently depending on the subject and the particular way you want to show it. The end result, if you have any talent, is that you’ll build a body of work that shows you are a subject matter expert.
I know it’s hard to stop taking pictures of all and sundry, but you really have to. Especially if you’ve got a life, too, and can’t spend 10 hours a day taking photos. If you’re stuck on picking your major, here are a few ideas on how to decide. Go through your photos and rate them. If you’ve already rated them, look at what rated highest and lowest. Did you have fun taking those? Did you love the process? Another way is to look on sharing sites and see which of your photos are most favorited or commented on. Which ones made Explore? Again, did they move you? Was making them a good time? Are they a cohesive group? Another way is to look at your worst pictures. Are those the ones you were really excited about? Why did they fail? Do you want to get better at taking those kinds of pictures?
There are lots of ways to choose your major and once you have it’s vital not only to practice, but to look at the work of the experts. There is no shortage of photo web sites, fora, blogs and sharing communities. Find some photographers who take the kinds of pictures you want to take and follow them. Study their work. Study their processes. Pick apart their EXIF data and equipment lists. Read their articles. Comment on their work and see if you can get a dialog going. Attend one of their workshops if they offer them. Podcasts, webinars, tutorials – it’s amazing what’s available now. Just don’t go overboard. Too much information and too many conflicting approaches will only muddy the waters. Instead, pick a point or two and take them into the field, specifically applying them during your session. See if the ideas work for you. Did you get more keepers from that session or not? Lather, rinse, repeat.
And I do mean repeat. Develop that muscle memory. Develop good habits and instincts. Find your passion. Declare your Major.
Often when I post photos of moving water looking all smooth, silky or smoky I get comments asking how I achieve that result. So I decided to write this post using my latest batch of images to illustrate things (and give you a couple of Lightroom tips in the bargain). Don’t say I never gave you anything.
First you’ll need a tripod. If you don’t have one buy one. If you don’t have money, borrow one and save up. It’s a necessity not just for this, but for a lot of other types of pictures, too. I’m not a wicked tripod snob, for these shots I used a small Slik model that only weighs a couple of pounds. It is plenty stable for my camera and lens. Sometimes I drag my ancient Bogen with me because it’s taller and more robust, but if I’m hiking I take the little Slik. For some helpful ideas on buying a tripod, check out Marko’s latest podcast on Photography.ca.
Second stay out of the direct sun. Get up before it does or go on an overcast day. Chance the rain. It’s the only way to get light that is even enough to keep you from blowing the highlights while keeping detail in the darker areas. There’s enough dynamic range in fast flowing water as it is, don’t make it worse by going in bright sun. Yes, recently I caught some sunlight in a waterfall, but it was early sun and angled very low to the ground so it worked. Overhead sunlight is a real pain, so avoid if you can. I walk away from waterfalls on a hike if it’s sunny; I know the results will be crap, so I don’t even bother.
Third use filters – a polarizer at least and a neutral density filter if you have one. A polarizer filter helps to cut the glare and reflections on the water, but also on vegetation which really makes the colors pop (especially useful if the leaves are wet, which brings up the color, but also reflections). A neutral density filter is like sunglasses for your camera. It cuts the available light and allows for longer shutter speeds which is exactly what you need to give the water that smooth, silky look. They come in different densities that reduce the exposure by a set number of stops. I think I’ve got a 4 or 5 stop. Combined with a polarizer it gets me good results. A polarizer will generally cut 1-1 1/2 stops by itself.
Now, a lot of people think you need a long time, say 30 seconds or even more for shots like this, but I don’t go nearly that long. I stay anywhere from 1 to 5 seconds generally at ISOs 100 and 200. Here’s one from yesterday that’s 1.3 seconds at f10.
The big secret is to expose for the highlights! It is REALLY easy to blow the whites in a waterfall. That and the wrong white balance are my biggest pet peeves because both are easily avoided. Watch your histogram or the high/low blinkies in your LCD screen…a little clipping is manageable, but a huge area is not. Don’t worry that the rest of the shot is dark, you can correct for that in post processing. Use spot metering if you have it and put it on the white water.
Another reason I don’t use very long exposure times is that I like being able to see the bottom of the stream and that often floating bubbles and debris will leave long trails in the photo as they pass by. This shot was only 1.6 seconds at f9 and I love that you can see the rocks in the stream bed. If I’d let it go longer, there’d be more distracting streaks.
As it is you get a sense of motion and of stillness. I twisted the polarizer to full on to cut the glare on the leaves and bring up the richness of the green. Ditto for the reflection of the sky in the water – it’s gone!
If you do blow more highlights than you intended, don’t worry too much. You can use the adjustment brush in Lightroom (or similarly robust editing package) to correct those areas and bring the exposure down. Providing you have some detail left and didn’t clip the water entirely, this can work and help give a more even exposure appearance. I did that with this next shot because try as I might I just couldn’t get it right since the sun was almost overhead.
Just like I described in Black and White Photography 201, I used it here to bring down the exposure just a little. For most of my work I turn the auto mask on so that it doesn’t leak the adjustment area out of the highlighted pass I make with the mouse. Use an appropriate brush size (I always make mine a little on the large side) with a good amount of feather zone, flow and density. It took me a lot of practice (do-overs) to get a feel for the tool, but now I use it a lot to manage the light and dark areas of my images.
Lastly, try to match your white balance to the scene. If you go on an overcast day choose the cloudy or shade setting, they usually match pretty close (or a custom white balance if you’re feeling super techy) . I’ve found that leaving it on auto often renders things much too cool and makes the water blue. I hate that. Sorry if you like it, that’s just me. I’m kind of a realist when it comes to my nature photography and unless the water really was blue, it shouldn’t look like that in a picture. Fix it in post if you don’t get it right in the camera.
Here’s a quick summary –
- Use a tripod
- No direct sun
- Use filters – polarizer and/or neutral density
- Expose for the highlights (spot metering helps)
- Use the adjustment brush or similar tool in post processing
- Use an appropriate white balance (no blue water!)
So that’s it. After a while it becomes second nature, but at first you’ll probably have to practice a bit. Believe me, my first waterfall pictures are AWFUL. I like to think I’ve improved. At least a little.
One of the earliest lessons I learned in photography was to cultivate good field habits. That is to establish habits and routines that not only help you stay organized, but keep you from going crazy if you have a lot of gear. Accessories are the kiss of death sometimes and unless you have a way to keep track of them, you’ll lose stuff or not be able to find something when you need it. One of my oldest habits is to always put my lens cap in my left pocket. Usually it’s my pants pocket, but it can be jacket or vest pocket, too. Don’t get me started on cap keepers, either. Never had one, never will. When I was in camera retail I sold them by the boatload, but would never be caught dead with one. Noob city. Nope, the pocket rule has always worked. Only lost one lens cap in 25 years. I think that’s pretty good. Whenever I don’t follow the rule, I screw myself up royally.
The other day is a perfect example. I was out in the woods as usual, looking for signs of spring. I didn’t find any, but I shot a little anyway. I remembered distinctly that I didn’t want to put my lenscap in my left pants pocket where I always put it because I was going to do a lot of ground shooting and it’s uncomfortable to have a 72mm cap in there. I also couldn’t get to my jacket pockets because of my backpack straps. But it belongs in one of them that’s for sure. That’s all I remembered when an hour later I reached for my lenscap because it started to snow hard. It wasn’t there.
Frantic pocket patting ensued. I must have looked demented. Or like I had OCD. That great George Carlin routine about losing things went through my head. I even checked the upper parts of my pockets because yes, indeed, it might have fallen upward! I went through the obvious places in my backpack. I changed the battery so maybe it ended up in the main compartment where the old batteries go…nope, not there. Am I sure it’s not in my pockets? More pocket patting. Nope, not back yet. I knew I shouldn’t have put it in my left front pocket…I knew I’d be crouched down a lot and it must have squirted out while I was shooting. A quick review of my shots gave me the locations where I’d have to stop and search. Back down the trail I went. Eyes down, scanning for a black disk and hoping it fell on some snow and not the leaves which could hide a Sherman Tank.
Imagine looking for the same stupid leaf you liked on the side of the path only coming from the other direction. OMFG it was torture…was that the little plant I stopped to look at? Oh hey, here’s where I found that old jar. It must be here. After much snow scraping and leaf kicking I didn’t find it. Ok…it must be down where I shot that club moss. Yeah, I spent a lot of time there, so it must be there. How much further was that? Oh there it is. More snow kicking and leaf sweeping. No cap. OMG. Is it where I shot that weird tree? Or was it when I went to shoot the birch bark? Tramp down the trail some more, always scanning the ground. What if someone stomped on it? What if someone kicked it? What if a dog thought it was a toy and chewed it all up? I’ll never find it.
So…to make a long story short I got all the way back to the first thing I shot and still didn’t find my missing cap. I decided to search my backpack again and then it hit me. I put it in the side pocket. But not the left pocket, the right one. There it was. Shining up at me, smiling with glee that it was once again found. If I could have kicked myself, I would have. What a dope. I didn’t follow my rule and it screwed with me.
You can imagine what I’ll be remembering to do on my next few trips out into the field. Negative reinforcement, baby!
So what other rules do I have? Not all that many, but one that I live by is to keep my fresh batteries in one spot. Here –
If I find batteries anywhere else in my pack, I know they’re used. I don’t really have a designated place for them, just that they don’t go back into that little section.
Oh, so I probably should show you the whole rig, huh? Well here it is with my travel tripod stuffed in the back –
It’s a LowePro Street & Field Rover Light. Stupid name, great bag. The top section is basically one big pocket and is great for non-photo stuff like snacks, shell jackets, hats, gloves and other stuff. I’ve got a trash bag in there all the time as well as some peanut-butter crackers. Oh and an extra memory card, filters, a space blanket and folded paper towels. And I can’t forget my Swiss Army knife and flashlight.
The bottom section opens like a clamshell and has padded sections like any other camera bag. I haven’t moved them around much. My old E-300 (which I used to take these pictures) fit better than my E-30 does mostly because it doesn’t have a penta-prism and is flat on top. It does the job though –
As I haven’t acquired a large telephoto zoom at this point, this bag still works. I’ve had it since 2003 and it’s been everywhere. I use it as my primary carry-on all the time when I’m flying. I can cram toiletries and other stuff like my Bose headphones, a book and my iPod in the top and all my camera stuff below. But the best thing about it is that it’s a real hiker’s pack with excellent padding and adjustment potential. When hiking with a camera I usually have it hanging from a D-ring on the right shoulder strap. Like this –
Most of the time I don’t even have to detach the camera and can leave it on the D-ring (or D-link as I stupidly labeled it). It is an unusual arrangement, but it works for me. The D-ring is also a handy hanger for gloves. Sometimes I hang a water-bottle pouch from the waist belt. Not only is it good for water, but for a long telephoto making it easy to do lens changes without taking the pack off. The only downside is when you slide down a hill in deep snow.
So yeah, I’ve gone down a tangent that has nothing to do with rules for the field. Digression is the house special today. As rules go I think the lens cap location is key as is keeping your batteries straight. Anyone else got any good field habits they want to share?? Feel free to chime in!
The next step along the monochrome brick road is manipulating images once you’ve converted them and done the basics like cropping, white balance and sharpening. Sometimes the color palette we’re presented with isn’t as dynamic in monochrome as we want it to be. I mean that the gray values of the colors aren’t separated, they’re the same. So try as you might the image just doesn’t work in some ways even though your composition and subject matter might be perfect. This often happens with colorless landscapes like this one –
What made me take this photo was the big tangle of trees and shrubs and the orderliness of the walkway in the midst of it. I knew when I took it that my end product would be in black and white, but also was worried that the tonal range wouldn’t be great enough. I was right. Notice how the walkway disappears as you move from the stairs to the back of the photo. The color of the wood and the color of the vegetation are about identical even to the eye. So how can I make this photo work?
Color sliders were the first thing I went to. In Lightroom’s Develop module there is a panel called B&W and it only functions when you’ve done a conversion using the black and white button in the Basic panel (if you just move the saturation slider to 0, it won’t work since you took all the color out of a color photo). All the major colors from red to magenta have an individual slider that changes the intensity of that color in the photo. Slide it all the way to the left and the colors are saturated to 100, slide it the other way and they’re de-saturated to 0. In the photo the shade of gray is either darkened or lightened.
With this shot I concentrated on the orange slider, moving it to the left to darken the gray value of the orange in the branches and dead leaves on the ground. This helped make the far pathway more visible because the gray value of the planks wasn’t changed. So far, so hoopy. But I still wasn’t satisfied. The thing makes this shot work is the big distinction between the mad tangle of branches and the imposed order of the boardwalk, so that meant that the boardwalk had to pop more. What to do…ah, the adjustment brush.
This is a tool I’ve just begun to use more often. I liken it to the dodging and burning I did in the darkroom in the 80s. With this tool you can lighten or darken the exposure of an area easily. The brush proportions and intensity are almost infinitely variable and you can do much more than just change exposure with it, but for this article I’m only concentrating on exposure. Typically I’ll dial in a huge change just so I can see it clearly on the image. Once I know the area I want to cover is covered, I’ll dial it in to the exact value I want. It takes practice, but since Lightroom is non-destructive, I don’t worry about it. You can have as many do-overs as you want.
Using these two techniques in Lightroom made the most of this photo. The changes aren’t huge, but they work. I never want my images to be about the processing. Instead I want the processing to clarify and enhance the point of the image. I think leaving the mass of gray makes the chaos look even more chaotic, but the subtle use of the adjustment brush and the color sliders reinforced the sense of order provided by the walkway. Here are some other shots where I used either the brush or the sliders or both.
Hopefully, if I’ve done my job right, the processing doesn’t reach out and smack you between the eyes. I think my touch was light enough, but definite enough to bring out the strengths of each photo (or in one case, to minimize a weakness). That’s the key though – the image has to work in the first place. The composition, exposure, framing and subject matter have to be appropriate for monochrome. Then if the gray values aren’t helping those things, or some of the exposure values aren’t, the adjustment brush or color sliders can assist.
I’ve mentioned only Lightroom because that’s the editor I use, but most robust programs will include the same functionality at least where the color sliders are concerned. I’ve also not mentioned white balance or curves, things I also use in my black and white photography, I’ll save those for another article. For me, working a monochrome image in the ways I just talked about helps me reinforce the ideas and feelings I want to convey with my photograph. They’re part of the process that begins in my head, goes through my camera and then my computer to the final product. The key is knowing what you want to show and the tools that will help you do it. These are just a couple you should get to know and learn to wield with skill if you want to make the most of your B&W work.
Black and White 101 article in case you missed it
A while back I said I’d report on my progress from time to time. It’s part of my attempt to be more aware of the state of my photography and where I want to take it. Now if I can only remember what they were. Oh right, here they are –
1. Improve composition; read a book or two, podcasts, tutorials, essays etc.
2. Strive for more distinctive images
3. Maintain post-processing workflow discipline
Hm. Will you look at that.
Yes I have read a few articles that deal with composition, but I haven’t done anything really serious about it. No books have been bought. Mostly because I’m still not working full time and what with the internet being free and all… But I am on the trail of a full time job and when that lands (positive thinking all around!) I will buy a book or two. That being said, I have been more conscious of the rules of composition when I’m out in the field. Hardly ever in the past did I deliberately think about composition in my head. It’s always been very gut-level for me. I walk around, frame, pace, line up, but never do I recite mantras to myself. Now I sort of do. One I keep in mind is relationships…creating relationships between objects in my image. Here’s one –
In this one I deliberately set opposing geometries together. Vertical aspect, horizontal wall in foreground, vertical trees in background, that first horizontal row of nearly square headstones, going from short to tall, the tall monument on the left reinforcing the vertical nature of the shot. All sort of clashes, but also flows really well. I did it deliberately. Oh sure I tried other compositions, but none worked so well. I even left out the rather terrific gate because it broke up the flow too drastically. It blocked the flow. Out it went.
On to the next one. Have I striven for distinctive images? Yes and no. In my mind, this means shooting a more typical view in a different way. Lately I haven’t been presented with much that’s typical so my images remain my own take on the world I see. The only one that approaches anything near this is this shot of Mt. Monadnock –
No, it isn’t that great a photograph. The view to the mountain was difficult and narrow. I had to climb on the top of an escarpment to get clear of the trees in the immediate foreground. The lighting wasn’t particularly helpful either, so I decided to try to make the mountain look small by using a lot of sky. If they sky hadn’t been interesting, I wouldn’t have, but I think as a snapshot, this works. Are there other shots of mountains taken this way, I’m sure there are, but most people wouldn’t even try I don’t think. Maybe I’m foolish to have, but I think even a snapshotty image adds to the impression of a place.
And how is my post-processing work-flow these days? Pretty good actually. Using specific folders, tags, labels, ratings and keywords has made it much easier to find stuff even though I haven’t shot much yet. So far, so good.
So there you have it. An update. Crossing my fingers that the weather cooperates for one last major winter shoot this weekend. I’ll be trying to manage #1 and 2 more fully and hopefully #3 will be habit by now and will fall into place automatically.
How are a landscape photographer and a vampire alike?
Neither goes outside at noon.
Seriously, it makes you wonder doesn’t it? Blood-sucking fiend and Fun-sucking fiend, both taking the joy right out of life.
I recently stopped following a landscape photographer’s blog because he just kept going on and on about only shooting at the crack of dawn. You know what? It’s pompous. It makes me wonder if the guy is really any good. Why can’t he get a terrific photo during the day, huh? Why cantcha snooty landscape photographer guy? You know what else? It’s boring. Every single photo looks the same as every single other photo. Lots of pastel-colored snow scenes with blue shadows and a few fences, trees and churches. Nice, but dull. Technically well-executed, but a yawn fest. I mean, if that’s all you do it’s pretty repetitive. Plus you have to stay inside all day and where’s the fun in that?
Don’t misunderstand, I get the appeal of shooting when the sun is low, but I don’t get the strictness about it. It’s almost like religious dogma with some photographers. I mean, hell, I’m out all day sometimes, does that mean I shouldn’t take pictures? Baloney.
I. Don’t. Buy. It.
I took that shot at about midday last spring. No, it isn’t subtle and all soft and glowing with pastel shades, but it’s still a good photograph. Sometimes photography means working with the light you have. It’s knowing how that can help you make the most of what you find. Using this same shot as an example, what did I do that helped? I used a polarizing filter. Knowing that color would be one of the things to make the shot work, I made sure I had the best of it in that reflection.
Ever hear the expression “perfect is the enemy of good”? Well, that’s how I think of these other golden hour only photographers. They sacrifice good images on the altar of perfect (or their ideas of perfect) and who knows if they ever please themselves. Yes, there is such a thing as perfect light, but it varies by subject matter and what kind of photograph you want. I’d rather be flexible than rigid. I’d rather know how to deal with “imperfect” light than only venture out twice a day. With the vampires.
So what else. Oh yeah, how about vacation. For most of us it means going to a place we probably won’t go back to again. Once in a lifetime kind of thing. You have to work with what you find. What if the sky doesn’t have nice, puffy clouds in it like that first photo? What if the sky is boring and dull? Well put something in it –
Or find something in the foreground to take its place –
Another one shot when the sun is high and guess what? It doesn’t suck. Who wants to drag their asses out of bed at dawn on vacation every day? Not this little gray duck. Once, maybe twice, but not every day. Hell. It’s vacation.
All right, what if the light itself is flat and dull? Isolate. Get out your telephoto, baby. Sometimes tightening up on big vistas can give you little slices that are just as interesting.
Another thing you can do is scout your location beforehand. This can present you with ideas you can use when the light changes. Take this example –
I shot this on my 2nd or 3rd trip to this location. From past visits I knew how the light would track in the afternoon and because I’d seen it in the trees before, I knew that it would also light up the ice in the gorge. Ta da! It worked. And it’s what makes this photo. Not the subject – the LIGHT. And it’s not sundown either. By the time the sun sinks that low up there, the light is gone from this gorge. Mr. Snooty Landscape Photographer would have missed this completely.
See…you don’t need to only photograph during the golden hours (roughly ½ hour before and after the sun rises or sets, also called civil twilight), but if you know how to manage the light you have, you can usually come up with something you’ll be happy with. After a little practice you can make almost any scene work for you. Good light is what you make of it. Of course, getting there early is never a bad idea –