Photography is an art of finding something interesting.  

Gosh, the first day of spring (has passed) and the temperature is climbing.

I stood out on my porch looking at the melting snow along the walkway to the driveway thinking that winter seems to have come and gone in a rush this year.

It was a lazy day for me and I really didn’t want to do anything except have another cup of coffee and maybe snooze on my chair listening to music. However, I do like pointing my camera at things and this would probably be my last chance to photograph things poking out of the snow. And if this year is like most I expect the cool spring rains will be pounding on my roof in short order.

So, as hard as it was I ignored the waiting coffee grinder and went off get my camera.

My latest acquisition is a 300mm lens. I like that focal length and have had several since the first Pentax I owned back in the 1970s. This latest lens came with a 1.4 telextender that gave me a 450mm of reach.

I have a longer 150-600mm lens, but the 300mm takes up less room in a bag or on my car’s seat, it focuses very fast and is just darned fun to use.

Although I sometimes photograph wide landscape vistas my preference is tight close shots. It’s the intimate, close cropped “parts” of a scenic that catch my eye. So after making sure I had an empty memory card and charged battery I mounted the 300mm lens on my camera and set off to see if I could make some interesting photographs of things resting on, or poking out of the snow.

By the time I drove down the road the sun was high in a bright blue cloudless sky. My choice was to head up into the hills or down to the river. But I wondered if the small pond was still frozen over so I went up.

The pond was frozen without a footprint or even a lonely bird in the tall lifeless reeds that circle the pond. I was disappointed, but as it has for the past 40 years, this rural place where I live, always offers something that catches my eye. The long lens was the perfect tool to isolate and exclude as I focused on the remains of a tree poking out of the snow. That broken and rotted stump in a desert of white snow was crossed with neat long thin shadows that made up for the boring pond.

I stopped to photograph what was left of an old log building that once might have been for storage or maybe living quarters for some ranch hand. When I first drove down what was then a bumpy dirt road many years ago it still had a glass window and roof, but now only the decaying log walls remained.

I drove around getting out of the car and trudging through the wet snow trying to photograph subjects I have photographed before in a new way.

I often wonder what the people in the cars think when they, once again as they have many times before, pass me pointing my camera at some subject. Most are not photographers, making the things I am photographing of little interest to them.

It always seems new to me. A bit familiar for sure, but this was the first time I photographed anything in my neighbourhood with this particular lens.

So yes, new.

I know I’ll be back photographing everything again when it rains or maybe when the grass begins to grow or when there are geese in the pond or anytime I am in the mood.

I know I have included this quote from American photographer Elliott Erwitt before but it just seems to fit.

“To me, photography is an art of observation. It’s about finding something interesting in an ordinary place… I’ve found it has little to do with the things you see and everything to do with the way you see them.”

A process of observation.       

Salmon Arm

Street rest art

Town sculpture

Shuswap Lake

Pier view

Dragon boat

Lakeside residents

Smugglers love

My wife, Linda, has been wanting to really put her new 135mm lens to the test.   Even though the 135mm focal length is normally used for portraitures, she wanted to give it a roadside work out and suggested we take a short drive. We decided a morning drive along the meandering South Thompson River ending in Salmon Arm, just short of an hour away, for coffee and some photographs.

The British Columbia city of Salmon Arm with it’s unique, picturesque downtown and what residents claim to be the longest, curved wooden wharf in North America is located on the Shuswap Lake, midway between Calgary and Vancouver on the Trans-Canada Highway. The lakeside city also became infamous in August of 1982 when then Canadian Premier Pierre Trudeau raised his middle finger at protesters from his seat inside a private rail car.

When I’m not making portraits I prefer zoom lenses. Using a multi-focal length lens when photographing buildings and other features that one finds along a busy city street makes photography easy to do because it’s simple to crop out people, cars and other unwanted elements. Nevertheless, Linda wanted to use her 135mm and I decided to follow suit and brought my 105mm.

We wandered the downtown photographing anything that caught our attention. It was Sunday and most shops were closed and the streets, other than a couple of people walking to the grocery store or, like us, driving to Tim Horton’s for coffee, were almost empty.

It was a perfect day to walk around, and there was plenty of room to step backwards on to the street or move around in front of shops with our prime lenses. We spent a leisurely hour or so just taking pictures in town before driving to the lakeside park to sit in the shade, take in the view, and talk about our pictures.

My preference would have been to use my 24-86mm and although Linda really liked the 135mm, she wished I had brought along her 70-300mm. However, we both thought using the long prime lenses was a good exercise. Placing a subject and composing the final image took longer than just zooming the lens length forwards or back. Our fixed focal length lenses required that we had to physically move about to get the image we desired. There was also a change in perspective because of the mid-range of our lenses.

I have been trying to think of some words that would sum up our experience. Maybe American documentary photographer and author, Elliott Erwitt, got the closest to what I was experiencing when he wrote, “To me, photography is an art of observation. It’s about finding something interesting in an ordinary place… I’ve found it has little to do with the things you see and everything to do with the way you see them.” Perhaps our exercise wasn’t so much, “an art of observation” as it was an “act of observation”.

Why is Photography so good    

Story at the Seawall

A story at the sea wall.

%22I rode my bicycle pat your window last night%22

” I rode my bicycle past your window last night”

%22I was thinking to myself, this could be heaven or this could be hell%22

“I was thinking this could be heaven or it could be hell”

 

Some time ago I wrote a column titled, “What is a good photograph?” At that time I said, “A good photograph is one that makes us have a connection with, or think about, the subject…it could help us understand what the photographer feels about that subject; and can, if successful, evoke some kind of mood, whether good or bad.”

While having coffee with some friends this week one raised the thought, “Just what is good photography?” He wasn’t referring to the nuts and bolts of the technology, but what is it about photography that makes it a good medium to so many.

I like the statement made by famous scenic photographer Ansel Adams said, “Photography, as a medium of expression and communications, offers an infinite variety of perception, interpretation and execution.” Simply put, I think it is all about making a picture of something and visually explaining that to others. The creative medium of photography is much different than other artistic endeavours.

Another celebrity in the world of photography, Edward Steichen said, “ Every other artist begins with a blank canvas, a piece of paper… the photographer begins with the finished product.” (For readers’ information, Steichen was married to the famous southwestern painter, Georgia O’Keefe.) I am sure he believed creative art is something attained because of the artist, not the medium.

I’ll expand my friend’s thought with the question, what is photography? Internationally known photographer, Elliott Erwitt wrote, “ To me, photography is an art of observance. It’s about something interesting in an ordinary place…I’ve found it has little to do with the things you see and everything to do with the way you see them.”

I am always interested in talking to photographers about what they were trying to do (or say) when they took a picture. Any two photographers in the same location will provide two very different interpretations.

Sometimes we look at a photographer’s work and realize there is more to the image than just what we saw at first glance. It is as if the photographer is challenging us to catch a glimpse of something deeper in meaning. Speaking to that, controversial photographer Diane Arbus exclaimed, “A photograph is a secret about a secret. The more it tells you the less you know.”

That is certainly my impression of some photographs I look at. The photographer might just say, “Oh, I just saw it and pushed the shutter”, but if pressed I usually get a lot more about what he or she was feeling when they pushed the shutter.

Another great quote by the innovative Duane Michals wrote “Photography deals exquisitely with appearances, but nothing is what it appears to be.”

Recently I looked at a photograph made by a friend in an old abandoned house. The view was at floor level with decaying furniture and windblown leaves looming in the foreground. At first the low angle was inviting with light coming in from uncovered windows. Then I noticed not so focused stuff like toys, and a bookshelf with books in the background, and a textured story of more than just a simple picture through an open door emerged.

 

Photography has become more popular than ever before, and the ease with which modern technology makes holding a camera, releasing the shutter, and making a sharp, colourful picture is also easier than ever before, and I look forward to every new aspect of this exciting medium that develops, and I enjoy getting into these types of philosophical moods regularly; I like all things photographic and enjoy the opportunity to discuss photographers, photographs, and what photography as a medium is to photographers.

 

I am sure most of the allure of photography is how one can capture a moment of a subject’s time and show that moment to others. And what makes it such a good medium might be as Ansel Adams who said, “My last word is that it all depends on what you visualize.”

 

 

 

 

 

What Does “Composition” Mean?

Cat & Rule of Thirds  White horse in field  OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

“Photography is not like painting. There is a creative fraction of a second when you are taking a picture. Your eye must see a composition or an expression that life offers itself to you, and you must know with intuition when to click the camera. That is the moment the photographer is creative.”    I included that quote by famous French photographer, Henri Cartier-Bresson, because he used the word “composition”, and it is that word and how it is currently being used that I have been recently thinking about.

The word composition gets thrown around a lot when discussing photographs.  I’ll read forums where responses to posted images might say something like, “great capture, good composition,” or sometimes, something as meaningless as “I love your composition”.

I know the posters don’t actually mean composition as a photographic technique. I think it has just become an alternative word that means “picture”.  Modern photographers seem to hesitate referring to a photograph someone has posted to an online site as a picture. They want a more modern word, and I guess using the word “composition” instead of “picture” has become that word.

That came to mind, when a young photographer said to me, “I don’t really know a lot about photography, but what I do know is that I am really good at is composition.”  That was one of the few times I have been left speechless.

Photographic composition is defined as, “the selection and arrangement of subjects within the picture area.”  And unlike those who replace the word picture with the word composition, I use composition and compositional guidelines to help me enhance a photograph’s impact.

Photographers are limited by the actual physical appearance of the subjects they are photographing, and depend on camera position, the perspective created by different lense’s focal lengths, and the elements that make up a picture to communicate to viewer’s what they saw when they made the photograph.

I think about what is important and how I want to arrange my composition, and I consciously subtract those elements that I think are unimportant or distracting. When setting up a composition I usually think about and apply the ‘Rule of Thirds’ wherein we divide the image into nine equal segments with two vertical and two horizontal lines. The Rule of Thirds says that you should position the most important elements in your scene along these lines, or at the points where they intersect, and by doing so, adding balance and interest to one’s picture.

I looked up composition online where there are page after page of composition tips. I decided I’d add my own, “apple technique to proper picture making and composition”.  Here goes!

While driving along and finding an inspiring scene.   Don’t just point the camera out the car window!

1. Stop the car.

2. Get out.

3. Leave the camera in the camera bag.

4. Get an apple and eat it as one looks at the inspiring scene. Think about what is likeable about it, and make some choices as to how compose, or arrange, the features within the picture area you photographing.  Photographers should ask; what would someone like to say about the scene to the viewer?

5. Finally, go back to the car, get the camera, and make the picture.

Elliott Erwitt, American, documentary photographer wrote, “To me, photography is an art of observation. It’s about finding something interesting in an ordinary place… I’ve found it has little to do with the things you see and everything to do with the way you see them.”

My website is at www.enmanscamera.com

Photographing Old Buildings

Customs house Forgotten lane Homestead Neglected barnBarn field forgotten in the storm b WellsGrey Homestead neglected churchyarderghost residencese old house & chair Last sentinal

There are many camera-wielding travelers that cannot drive past an old barn, house, or an aging storage building standing and deteriorating in a field without stopping to capture a picture. And I admit that includes me.

I can’t begin to, or even try, count how many wooden relics of the past I have made photographs of since I acquired my first camera so long ago; or for that matter how many different types of cameras I have used in that pursuit.

I must wonder at my reason for stopping on the many roadsides, camera-in-hand, to take a picture of some rotting clapboard structure. For a moment as I look inside I wonder about the lives of those who lived there.  My wife likes to look for survivors of old plants and gardening that took place, e.g., rhubarb, and lilacs.  She says the fondest thing she ever discovered was some poets’ eye narcissus (daffodil) that had survived over fifty years on their own.  Very few photographs have ended as prints, and I suspect many readers will, like me, just file the memories away, because the act of documenting that old barn, or homestead, seemed important at the time, but when we developed the film, or downloaded our memory card, we didn’t have a plan that included dealing with the picture.

Hanging on my wall I have a very large (3’x5’) print of an old mining structure I had made using a 4×5 Speed Graphic camera; and once, in the late 1970’s I had a calendar made of buildings I found locally, in the interior of British Columbia. Sadly, as one might expect, none of those structures featured in that calendar still remain. However, most of my images like that languish in files, as forgotten as the structures they were made from.

What is it that makes it so exciting to discreetly, and precariously sometimes, to scramble over the barbed wire fence, onto some farmer’s private property, in spite of the “No Trespassing” signs nailed to the fence?  Our images rarely depict unusual subjects that haven’t been seen before or those of some architectural masterpiece; they are just of some decaying wood structure. However, those buildings are still intriguing and make us wonder about the life that was lived beside, around, and inside them, and why we need to make an exposure of that story on our camera’s sensor.

I don’t believe there is any one lens, or one particular way, to photograph a building. I think the words “whatever moves you” fits best.  Sometimes it’s the structure, sometimes the way it fits in the landscape. There are occasions that demand a long lens, others that call us to get close with a wide angle. My post-production might be some over-the-top effect, black and white, sepia toned, infrared, or a documentary as close to reality as I can make it. There isn’t a right or wrong way to make a picture, and in my opinion, almost any way one wants to present an image of an old building works.

No matter where the discussion goes regarding why so many photographers select dilapidated old buildings for their subjects, I think it is as photographer Elliott Erwitt says, “… I’ve found it has little to do with the things you see and everything to do with the way you see them.”

I always appreciate comments. Thanks, John

Check out my website at www.enmanscamera.com

Photographing Small Towns

1.The main street 2. town clock 3. out to dinner 4. barber shop 5. gallery 6. church

The pictures I see of cities and towns are usually of exotic locations, and show glamorous and architecturally interesting buildings. I admit that I enjoy photographing cityscapes and easily loose track of time when I am left to wander about on my own in just about any high-building packed city.

Recently, I have been fortunate enough to view the colorful building photography by Australian photographer, Leanne Cole, at http://www.leannecole.com.au and French photographer, Mathias Lucas’ architectural work at http://mathiaslphotos.wordpress.com.  Both photographers got me to think about winter building photography, but, for me, it is a drive of many miles from my rural home to a city with tall buildings.

I wondered about small communities that are scattered along the Thompson River valley. Most aren’t glamorous, or exotic, and although there might be some architecturally interesting buildings left from bygone times, they are often treated by most travelers as convenience stops on the way to somewhere else.

Not far from my backwoods home is the small lakeside town of Chase. When photographers go there they pass through the town center  with barely a glance on their way to the park beach and boat pier. The single-street town isn’t really significant to view with its single story, flat-topped, mostly featureless buildings, and I go to Chase as a place to get something forgotten from my main shopping trip to the larger city of Kamloops where I work.

I sat looking at Lucas’ and Cole’s engaging building images, and even searched out some of my recent files from my October trip to Victoria, British Columbia, and wondered if I might be able to make some interesting photographs of that little village up the valley.

The day had climbed above freezing with some patches of blue sky. I mounted an 18-200mm lens on my camera and headed off on the short drive along the Thompson River to Chase.

My choice of an early afternoon, midweek day was perfect. There were a few vehicles parked at the city curbs, the traffic (unlike on a weekend) was light, and I could easily walk across the street anytime, and I even stood center-street for a few shots.

I took my time wandering along trying different angles, exposures and took more than one shot of each scene choosing different cars, trucks, people and buildings in my quest to make interesting images of the village. I always can tell local residents. They are the ones that don’t mind a photographer, smile, and say hello as they pass. Tourists seem impatient, avert their gaze, and quickly walk past as if my camera is stealing something.

Photography in larger centers is easy, sometimes overwhelming, and always exciting. However, one has to get in the mood and culture when photographing small towns like Chase. I suppose it’s all about trying to observe the town with a thoughtful attitude.

I found a quote by iconic documentary photographer Elliott Erwitt that seemed to fit what I hoped to accomplish as I made images in that small town, “To me, photography is an art of observation. It’s about finding something interesting in an ordinary place… I’ve found it has little to do with the things you see and everything to do with the way you see them.”

I made lots of pictures of that small town for this article and included only those that showed the village in its valley location. In any event, I was pleased with the results of my adventure in Chase. In my experience going over ones pictures with a fresh look days later is always a good idea and I intend to do that and may post them sometime later.

I know there are many photographers living in the towns along the British Columbia, Thompson River valley; yet, I rarely see creative work showing the places they live. For years I have attended local art shows that always include local photographers who try their best to produce art-worthy images, but I can’t remember seeing any depicting Chase or any other small city here in the interior. I suppose we become too familiar with our homes and don’t take the time to observe and photograph an interesting view that comes from an ordinary place.  I encourage readers to take a new look.

I always appreciate your comments, Thanks

My website is at www.enmanscamera.com