Creating Extraordinary Visions

Recently I was asked to give a condensed version of a photography workshop (How to See Photographically) I presented several times a few years ago. The new version turned out to be  a new presentation reworked from the original and was called Creating Extraordinary Visions. Its focus was to simply touch on the concept of what it takes to consistently create extraordinary photographs. It was more inspirational than instructional in nature although a few ideas did find their way into the program. Over the next several blog posts in a multi-part presentation I want to share bits and pieces about Creating Extraordinary Visions with you the readers. Hopefully, you will find some inspiration along the way.

It All Begins With Light

Creating extraordinary visions begins with light, for you see Light in all of its moods is what transforms the ordinary into the extraordinary. As photographers, that is what we do...We Transform Light! We also see what others do not see. We develop an uncanny ability to look beyond what is visually in front of us and see into the potential of the moment, because photography is indeed 90% seeing and 10% photographing. 

The 10% is important no doubt. It is the instinctive part of photography where we grasp the difference between what makes a great exposure and simply capturing a visual xerox image of what we see. It is where we understand all of the mechanics of photography; shutter speed, aperture, ISO, White Balance, depth of field, composition, and so on...and the relationships between all of those components. It is where we understand how the camera is going to react to a given lighting condition and then have the ability to use that understanding to capture a scene the way we want it to look as opposed to always simply capturing what we see. But, photography is 90% seeing and this is one of the most difficult aspects of the art for most to fully grasp.

The art of seeing begins with light. Some years ago I read a statement by a world class photographer, Jack Dykinga, that altered my understanding of who I was as a photographer. What he said was, "Cameras and lenses are simply tools we use to capture our unique vision....Concentrate on equipment, and you will take technically good photographs. But, concentrate on seeing lights magic colors and your images will stir the soul."

Think about those words for a moment. Lights magic colors....Images that stir the soul....Unique vision. After reading Jacks statement all those years ago, I for the first time began to realize what photography was all about. It isn't about the object or the equipment...It is about creating a vision based on light. What you photograph is less important than how you photograph it. When you look at the potential photographic solution from the context of light, your whole perspective of what you do is changed. Light then becomes the driving force behind all of your images. From the dynamic grandeur of the Grand Canyon to the simple beauty of a single blade of grass...light is what defines how the image is received visually and the way you approach taking the image is dictated by the quality of the light.

There will come a point in time if you continue to pursue photography toward a high level of accomplishment, you will need to ask yourself two questions.

1.  Am I a picture taker of things?

2.  Do I consider myself to be an artist?

You see, the Picture Taker captures images believing it is the camera and/or the object itself being photographed that creates the great image. Rarely does the picture taker take into consideration the quality of the light and is usually satisfied with a photo as long as it is technically good. His motto is; I have a good camera therefore I take good pictures.

On the other hand, The Artist uses Light to bring his images to life and approaches his craft from the context

of light from the very beginning. He can take the most simple of objects using basic equipment and turn it into a work of art that will indeed stir the soul. He spends less time trying to define the object as he visually sees it, and instead attempts to create a feeling or mood. He begins the process by visualizing what the end result will be before he ever points the camera.

Creating Extraordinary Visions begins with understanding this basic concept about photography. 

Point of Greatest Potential

Some years ago I heard Dewitt Jones, a former National Geographic photographer say something that proved to become a life altering moment for me as a photographer. He simply said, "...be willing to place yourself at that point of greatest potential..." What he meant was, as a photographer in order to capture those iconic moments, you must be willing to do what you must do to place yourself in the best possible position to capture the most meaningful moments of light. We do not always know when those iconic moments will occur. We can only make a guess and see what happens, like what happened during this seasons wheat harvest.

Not a cloud broke the pale blue hue of the June sky. For a photographer, not so good. The sky needs clouds to add texture and interest. I kept hoping some would develop come sundown to create one of those legendary Kentucky sunsets, but as luck would have it what greated me was a bright, pale, flat pallet.

I had connected once again with my farmer friends James and Mark to photograph the wheat harvest. The idea was to shoot late in the day and into the early evening hoping to frame against the sunset the giant mechanical wonder they used to harvest the wheat. It was a large field and as the monster combine growled across the field clouds of dust and chaff filled the space behind it. As the sun settled behind the tree line I tried to make something happened, but there just wasn't any texture to the sky, just a bright glow that made it difficult to capture anything that looked interesting. Did manage to catch a few interesting shots with their running lights on, but what I wanted most just did not happen.

I have learned over the years that sometimes you need to turn around and look the other direction, just to see what is behind you. Doing so will often reveal an entirely new perspective. As luck would have it, from instinct I did turn around for a moment and noticed that a magnificent full moon was about to drift clear of the horizon. It was the first day of summer, and as I discovered later, this was to be the last full moon in our lifetime to occur on this day. No sunset worth capturing, so I adapted and began shooting in the other direction and concentrated on framing their operation against this amazing natural moment. It proved more difficult than I expected.

First of all I knew if I exposed for the combine and their lights, the moon would become a bright spot in the sky showing no texture at all, but if I exposed for the moon, the combine and fields would turn into a dark mass indistinguishable from the background. What I had to do was take two shots. The first was to capture the working equipment as it passed in front of the moon while it hovered low in the sky. The second was to expose for the moon. This second moon exposure was then cut and superimposed over the blown out moon from the first shot. Adding a bit of guasian blur to just the moon helped to blend it more evenly into the dark blue of the evening sky. Simple enough one might think, but it turned out to be an iconic photograph that could only occur on this first day of summer where the harvest coincided with the full moon.

Being there at that moment meant I was able to capture something that will not happen again in my lifetime.

Blending Two to Make One

I rarely use Photoshop Layers when I work up an image. On occasion I have, but most of the time the layers used were just a part of a plug-in software process that used them behind the scenes. However there is a simple way to use layers to create a new image from two separate images. The image shown below was made using this method.

First of all you need two images; the main background image, and the layered image that will be placed on top of the background image. In my example the background image is the wheat harvest farm equipment and the overlay image is the flag.

Using Photoshop Elements; First step is to open both the background image and the overlay image, then return to the background image.

Then, drag the overlay image, in this case the flag, into the background image. This will create a new PassThrough layer.

 Next grab the corners of the overlay image and expand it out to completely cover the background image and position the image the way you want it to line up.

Then using the Opacity slider, reduce the opacity of the layer down to something like 20% to 25% or to whatever looks good to you. Last step is to flatten the layer and save the new image.

It is that simple. This kind of operation can be used for a multitude of effects using a variety of image types.

The Adventure Side of Photography

Photography is an adventure no matter how you approach it. In fact if you approach it as an adventure, it does not matter where you are or what you are doing, opportunities can appear out of no where. That's the adventure part of it; you never know what to expect. Being ready is the most difficult part because those opportunities can and do often quickly disappear. Actually, approaching photography from an adventure aspect increases its appeal all the more. What better way to experience the highs and lows associated with any given adventure than to be able to capture it as it happens. A few years ago my fishing partners and I managed to schedule a few days for a much anticipated and needed float trip that proved the merit of approaching the craft as an adventure.

If I remember correctly, that was the 'Legend of Skull Bluff' trip where I managed to tumble out of my canoe as I was pushed by a determined wind and strong current into a rather annoying sweeper that effectively lived up to its name. As a result, my camera gear was drenched which pretty well ended my picture taking for the remainder of the trip. (Fortunately it was insured so it proved more of an inconvenience than a disaster). Before the drenching I managed to take some good photos, one in particular proved to be rather exciting. It was another one of those adventure trips we had made many times before, most of which were uneventful. This one proved to be otherwise.

We were on a four or five day float trip, depending on how fast we decided to travel the 60 miles or so down to the take out at Gilbert on Arkansas' Buffalo National Scenic River. We experienced just about every kind of weather you can have, except snow, and it came close to doing that as well. From perfect blue sky upper 70's, to chilly 50's and blustery, to high winds, to a woolly bugger lightning storm that blew in with ominous clouds followed by a significant temperature drop into the upper 30's and rain, we endured it all during those few days.


The image shown above became one of those snap adventure moments. My floating partners were just ahead of me as I rounded a bend when the scene unfolded. The white bark of the river birch trees glowed silvery against the pale green background. Its gnarled and crooked branches pierced through the olive greenery and, combined with the overcast skies, to create an ancient Jurassic landscape appearance. My floating partners spun their canoe and began to cross over from left to right lining themselves up to cut through a shallow set if riffles. Their position in the composition became critical to the success of the image. I grabbed my camera and framed the image instinctively firing off the shot. The resulting image captured the essence of our multi-day float trip. That is what approaching photography as an adventure can do for you.

Sitting on a shelf inside a book case are several albums I prefer to call 'Bragging Books'. They are filled with hundreds of snapshot photos from fishing and hunting trips, to canoeing and hiking trips. Few if any of them possess any kind of quality to them, but the memories they capture speak of moments shared with friends across several decades. On those occasions when I was able to bring to bare my higher quality camera and lens, well some of the images stand apart as not only captured moments, but captured expressions of nature at its best.

Sometimes the composition simply appears in front of you. When that happens it becomes a scramble to extract the camera and proper lens, set the exposure, frame the composition, and catch the moment before it fades away. Talk about an adventure. It is perhaps one of the most difficult kinds of photography, capturing those snap moments you recognize as unique quality examples. Too often I have missed the moment. All it takes is for a cloud to drift to far in one direction, a beam of light hitting the trees just right to fade, or a too quick decision with the camera and you end up with a blurred product, to ruin your efforts. It is a challenge at times to remain alert to what spontaneously presents itself, but it makes you a better spontaneous photographer. Seeing is 90% of the battle when it comes to photography. Learning how to see spontaneously requires you practise at it. Approaching your photography from the aspect of it being an adventure will provide opportunities for plenty of such practise.

Taking some time off...again

Its time to put the blog to rest for a while. Appreciate the few viewers who actually took time to read the posts. Hope they made a positive impact. It's been fun and more than likely I will return someday, but until then I am signing off, but the blog page will remain open for anyone who might actually look through the archives.  Thanx again,

Keith

An Insecure and Uncertain Spring

Spring arrives insecure and uncertain in Kentucky. Seems like it tarries for several weeks not sure if it is ready to close the door on winter or burst into the glorius warmth we are ready for after a long cold spell. There will be the early flash of color as blooms come forth pink and white, red and yellow, as if brought to life through the magical movement of a wizard's wand. Then nature, as it is inclined to do, sends us a protest event by broiling a storm into life stirring up wind and rain and thunder boomers. One day it is comfortable with gentle breezes and soft warmth embracing the world. The next day cold air filters through again barging its way into every crevice sending chilling winds to remind us that winter is not yet over. Then one morning as if overnight, everything turns green again ushering in the dog days of summer. Those unsettled transitional days, until summer arrives, should be a great time for photographers to rediscover the magic of light.

Oddly, spring may be my least photographed season. It also seems to be the shortest one becoming more of a brief interlude between winter and summer. Every year I remind myself to take advantage of what it has to offer photographically. Yet, before I realize it almost every year, spring has come and gone and I have little to show in the way of photographs.

Spring is also I believe the most difficult of seasons to photograph. How could that be one might ask with all the flowering trees. It's difficult to explain but it is sort of like not being able to see the forest for the trees effect. What we visually encompass is a wonderful array of redbuds and dogwoods with their splashes of color interspersed randomly across the landscape trying to return to a green hue. We observe it with a wide field of view with three dimensional depth perception as a glorified vision of color with eyes capable of separating the various parts. The camera creates a flat one dimensional illusion of the view which in so many ways falls well short of capturing what we see. Placing all of the components into a composition that captures the essence of spring is one of the more difficult tasks for photographer. If we are not careful what we end up with is flat image of a redbud against a tangle of background trees. The photographer to avoid this must use other elements to create an illusion of depth and movement to create an effective composition.  The details of spring are much easier to see and compose for they are easily spearated from the background.

Even so, every spring I make attempts to capture this new face exploding upon the landscape, and each year I get a little better at it. This spring will be no exception.

Through The Radiance of Light

The English language is most pure when framed within a musical score. The expressions become more than words, they become the defining lyrics of our lives by touching our deepest levels of emotion. When recited through a golden voice, the words become embedded within our hearts from across a moment of time, a moment we often cling to for fear of never finding it again. From all the times I've fallen short in a quest to accomplish something of significance, my lack of musical ability echoes across the decades to taunt me to such a degree I am often brought to despair. So, when I experience a truly remarkable example of such talent, I am deeply encouraged through the beauty of how the music was shared. Even someone like me with virtually no musical ability can be moved by the purity of this wonderful form of art.

Maybe in some way, I seek to fill the musical void I possess through other avenues. Capturing life photographically provides at least a measure of filling such voids. You see, images taken from moments in time become the musical scores of the visual artist. Where I fail vocally, I seek to define visually. I will never successfully harmonize music into a beautiful song, but the desire to achieve such perfection is overwhelming at times. So, I choose to sing not with words, not with audible melodies...I sing through the radiance of light.