A while ago I came across this tree in my front yard that had wonderful afternoon-sun backlight. Each leaf had a remarkable luminance to it not found in any of the adjacent trees. After several unsuccessful shots of the whole tree (and the rays of light coming through it on the ground), I decided it was better to eliminate the distracting background and go in closer. I ended up with this composition, from under the tree looking up. I knew I wanted it to be in black and white, to try and emphasize the light values that attracted me to the scene, as opposed to the colors.
At first I was very disappointed with this image. Due to looking directly into the sky, most of the background/sky parts are completely blown out, beyond the range of the camera. The worst of that has been cropped out here. Also, I didn't feel like I captured that original luminance I saw. My girlfriend called the image "uninteresting" and preferred the raw file in color, and perhaps she's right. But the more I look at it, the more it grows on me--at least a bit. I do rather like the tones in the leaves, and the wash of bright light in the background, though possibly distracting, is accurate in the sense that it was much brighter than the leaves I was focusing on (it was backlit, after all). I like how, compositionally, the pathway of the eye is controlled: My eye enters from the left, travels across the line of ivy toward the center of the frame, jumps up to the triangular shape of oak leaves on the right, then back down the tree trunk. Another viewer's pattern may differ, but I still think the composition is graphically strong, despite the large array of lines in the background.
In short, this is an image which I'm not entirely dissatisfied with, though I'm not entirely satisfied with, either. I know the scene had potential that could have been brought out by a better photographer. I chalk this on up to one more step on my path to total photographic control.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Backlit Tree
Sunday, May 06, 2007
A Study on Flash
Like I posted earlier, I've been trying to learn how to use my flash effectively. I'll be going to Europe in a few weeks, and I want to be able to use my on-board flash in low light without having my pictures come out...well..."flashy."
The other evening when Mom and I were waiting on the bats (see "Panning" below), I twisted around and quickly metered and shot a snap of my mom (top, left above). The meter apparently favored the light coming from behind her through the window, and her face turned out dark in comparison. "No matter," said I as I slowed the shutter speed down by a stop and shot again (top, right). Although the tones in her face look good, the background is way overexposed, as was expected.
"Well," I thought, "this may be a good time to pop up the flash and give it a whirl." In this situation I would be using the flash as the main source of light as I try to balance it with ambient. Based on the advice given by Strobist.com as a good starting point, I stopped down by two stops, then turned the flash compensation down by 1.5 EV (bottom, left). We're getting closer. The values are more balanced--nothing is terribly over- or underexposed--but it has that dreaded "flashy" look; the tones are cold and very flat. It has an almost sickly feel to it. Being as close to her as I was (I was in the passenger's seat), I thought I'd turn the flash down another stop and see what happens. Bingo! The tones are much more balanced, detail can be seen in the subject and background, my mom doesn't look ill, and everybody's happy (bottom, right).
None of these are good pictures. The composition is not all that interesting, and Mom looks like she is about to fall asleep. I tried to keep post-processing to a minimum in order maximize the differences between the four images. I probably could have tweaked the flash and exposure settings more and gotten an even better shot. At the time, I was so overwhelmed by the vast differences between the images I just wanted to see them on a larger screen immediately, and didn't think to keep messing with it. Still, as an exercise I think it was quite instructive to ignore all the other variables (composition, post, etc) and focus on the one I'm trying to learn: flash.
So, what did I learn? Well for starters I learned that it is possible to non-flashy images with a flash, it just takes some effort. That's important, because up till now I thought that my lack of skill combined with my dinky little on-camera flash (which gets a really bad wrap in photography circles) would mean that good shots in low light were just impossible. Now I think my flash has some potential that I need to squeeze out before I squeeze $185 out of my wallet on new one. I also learned that the tip I got from Strobist works: when using flash as the main light source, underexpose by a couple of stops and dial the flash down 1.5 to 2.5 stops. And finally, I learned that camera-to-subject distance has a huge effect on the necessary flash output. Sitting this close to the subject -2.5 EV was plenty of light; had I been further away, it may not have.
Saturday, May 05, 2007
Panning
Last Tuesday my mom and I went to Bessemer, AL, where she said she had seen a large amount of bats coming in and out of a small tower on the high school football stadium the week before. We eventually did see a few bats, though not very many, which would have made it difficult to photograph successfully in the dark--there was very little contrast between the few small bats and the dusky sky. So, while we waited for the bats I saw an opportunity to practice the panning technique on the cars that went by in front of the stadium. Out of the seventy or so exposures I made, this one I deemed the best, which gives you an idea of how successful (or rather, unsuccessful) I was. It was more difficult than I thought! I was sitting down, taking the pictures from inside the car (you can see the dash in the lower portion of the frame). I'd like to try it standing up to see if that makes a difference.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Copper Washers
I took this graphic composition of these copper washers today. We use these washers at work all the time to make seals in the various tubings we use in our testing facilities. I swiped a bag full of used ones; that's why they all have that ring around the center. I was intrigued by the three circles they made: the inner diameter, the ring indentation, and the outer diameter. I also used this as an opportunity to experiment with my flash. I've been trying to learn how to effectively use my on-camera flash in manual mode--mostly for fill in harsh sunlight--and it's a lot more complicated than I thought. I imagine it will get worse when I get my hands on that SB-600 I've been eyeing.
An obvious image for the macro lens, but for now a telephoto at minimum focusing distance is effective enough.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Joe Tucker Cemetery, Helena, AL
Here is a perfect example of seeing an image in my head, but not being able to reproduce that faithfully, either due to a lack of skill in the field or in post. When I came across this cemetery (adjacent to the park with the geese), I saw the long shadows cast in front of the tombstones and thought I could make use of that hard, directional light the sun was giving me. I envisioned in my mind's eye a black and white image emphasizing the dark shadows on the diagonal. The first thing that went wrong is the sky. In exposing for those shadows, the sky is completely blown out on the right side. It distracts the eye. Perhaps if I had exposed for the sky I would have been able to pull out the details in post-processing. The next thing that went wrong is in the black and white conversion. I used the channel mixer, as I usually do for this, but I've never felt comfortable with it. I decomposed the image to see the RGB channels independently, and there was something I liked about each, but didn't know how to mix them optimally. I ended up with mostly the green channel. The last thing I'm disappointed with is my use of curves. I tried to boost the contrast between the shadows and the grass, but I may have overdone it. And in doing so, I was hurting my already-blown-out sky. This would be a good candidate for a layer mask to apply the curve only to the lower part of the image, but I'm not comfortable with that at all yet, especially since all the tutorials I can find are for Photoshop, and all I can afford is the GIMP.
Three things went wrong:
(1) Incorrect exposure. I should bracket my exposures more, and always take at least some frames exposed for the highlights to see if I can extract some shadow detail later. Eventually I may want a graduated neutral density filter for situations like this.
(2) Poor use of channel mixer. Although I know how to use it technically, I'm still unsure of how to use it aesthetically. This will only come with practice and evaluation--doing it different ways then comparing.
(3) Poor use of curves and no use of masks. I really need to learn how to properly and effectively use layer masks in GIMP. This image may be a good one to come back to for practice.
Goose, Helena, AL
I went shooting in the park the other day and this goose decided to say hello.
I learned a hard lesson about dynamic range: the camera sees less range than the eye. Sure, I've read that a million times, but there's nothing like good old experience to make it really hit home. It's not so apparent in this photo, but most of the pictures I took were very harsh and contrasty, with the geese either in dark shadow or bright highlights, or both, and the camera couldn't handle it. I was there at around 4:30 p.m. on a clear day; the available light was very directional and hard, and was beginning to warm a bit. It could have been a good time to practice using the fill flash, if I could have gotten close enough to the birds. I didn't think of it.
Most of my education has been in math, science, and engineering, with some training in music. I was a musician all through high school and have recently, due to various circumstances, made a conscious decision to put down my trombone, trading it for the camera. Though photography has become my method of choice for creative outlet, I am still drawing constant parallels to music. As a lover of jazz, specifically bebop, I am always impressed by the amount of knowledge and effort bop demands of its listeners. One cannot expect to gain much by passively receiving Parker, Davis, Coltrane, Mingus, or Monk, without bringing along a certain amount of prior understanding as to how this music can express the thoughts of the musician. He must know the intricacies of musical communication, so that the musician and listener can have a common, agreed-upon language. Only then can communication take place, and the musician's statement be understood. Similarly, I can stare at an image for hours--it might even evoke an emotional response--but until I understand the language the photographer used to communicate, his statement is lost on me. Furthermore, until I can command the elements of visual communication for myself, making a photographic statement will be possible only accidentally. Just as J.J. Johnson spoke of a "jazz syntax" that must be mastered before effective, efficient improvisational communication can take place, so must photographers learn a visual syntax. We call such a syntax Composition.
So I have embarked on a path to learn a new language, to become visually literate and able to speak in this "syntax" of composition. Though this is a daunting task, as I must start from the absolute beginning, it is also exciting. There are certain images that have an effect on me; they strike me as having some sort of inexplicable significance or weight. Perhaps, with time, I will learn why; that is, I will learn to critically analyze a photograph and understand why it works compositionally. Perhaps, with more time, I will be able to produce work that has a similar effect. I believe this will be possible once two things occur: technique and camera manipulation are internalized, and graphic, compositional control becomes both comfortable and my main focus. They are interdependent; I cannot let the graphics of the image be the center of my attention until exposure, focus, and other camera manipulations become second nature.
The image I've posted today is of the Jule Collins Smith Museum of Fine Art on the campus of Auburn University in Auburn, AL, taken during the Easter morning twilight. It is my first image that I actually don't mind looking at, or showing to others. I like the idea of the half-light, half-dark building, though I wish that were more pronounced. I like the slight leading lines in the clouds and reflected in the water, though I wish they were stronger. I like the use of three strong colors: blue, yellow/gold, and the pinkish purple from behind the building on the right. But most of all, I like how my eye jumps between the two strong points of light within the frame: the bright light coming from the center of building, and the lamp post over to the right, with the reflection line sort of pointing to it. I wish I hadn't over exposed highlights coming from within the building; there's absolutely no texture in the brightest parts. Perhaps I could have emphasized the two strong points more in post by darkening the values over on the left side of the building (there were more lamp posts over there that were cropped out). Finally, I wish the line of symmetry wasn't centered right in the middle of the frame. I don't know for sure that it would have been successful higher or lower, but I kick myself for not taking more shots to experiment.
This has been a long post, which is not necessarily a good thing; I feel like I will be more likely to post more often if the posts are generally short. However, I think this process has been beneficial in that, for the first time, I feel like I have a direction to go in: simply reduce everything to points and frame. Of course, there's more to it than that--there are many photographic elements (lens perspective, depth of field, motion blur, etc) besides the purely graphic ones, and, unlike Kandinsky's work, my subjects actually do have meaning, but the end goal is for all three "photographic pillars," as it were--graphics, photographics, and subject--to work harmoniously towards some statement. And, for me, the most challenging and novel pillar by far is the graphic. My work is cut out for me.