The First Cameras - A Comforting Appeal in Black and White

Somewhere slightly over 50 years ago one summer I took my first photographs using an old Kodak No. 1 Brownie Camera my grandparents used way back well before I was even a thought. Even when I used it, it was ancient and wafted of a stuffy antique aroma off its worn and tattered covering. I found it stuffed in the back of an old drawer covered up by a collection of almost equally ancient women's Sunday hats. Oddly enough you could still buy film for that old camera...I don't remember which kind, something like 117 black and white I suppose.

They bought me a roll of film for maybe 50 cents and I went around taking pictures of this and that being careful not to waste the film as you could only take a dozen or so from that roll. When I was finished they let me run it over to Mr. Judy's Drug store to get them developed for a dollar or two. When they were ready I ran over to Judy's and absorbed the black and white images with a child-like fascination. Some of them were fuzzy and blurred but most were at least in focus. Made no difference, I was hooked.

I was imprinted you might say on those black and white photos and over the years even during the era I was shooting 35mm color slides, black and white always held a comforting appeal. A few years after taking that first roll of film I graduated to using a somewhat newer Kodak Brownie Hawk Eye camera, one of those marvelous art deco designed see down, shoot through late 1950's era cameras.

With that camera I began to explore developing my own black and white pictures. I was maybe 13 or 14 years old and my 2 dollar a week allowance didn't go very far. I did manage to convince my parents to buy me a basic development kit with 3 trays, some chemicals, and a film developing canister. They also allowed me to clean out a small closet in the back utility room and turn it into a darkroom.

I started simply making contact prints using the large negatives but soon wanted to elevate the technology by using an enlarger. My parents drew the line on that one and said no...good grief they cost almost $30.00 for a basic one back then, but that was a lot of money, way more than I or them could muster. So...I did what most enterprising kids would do back then...I made one out of spare parts I found around the house. For the lens I extracted the front objective lens from an old BB gun scope. For the body I used several oatmeal boxes joined together with electricians tape. For a light I used an ordinary light bulb inserted into the back and for a condenser I hollowed out a large light bulb and filled it with water. This condenser sat between the light source and the negative holder and served to spread out the light evenly and to reduce the possibility of overheating the negative. The whole contraption sat horizontally and projected the image onto a homemade easel connected to the wall. Oddly enough it worked like a charm and I was able to create good quality images upwards to 5x7 in size.

Through the years black and white has remained a solid concept for my photographs. I will often shoot with black and white in mind, then convert the images once they are downloaded. (Isn't Photoshop a marvelous invention). Black and white removes the distraction of color and provides instead a format focusing on shape, form, and contrast. Story is critical in black and white because it is told through the use of that shape, form, and contrast. There is also a comfort to revisit those days and every time I create a black and white image there is a nostalgic satisfaction inherent with doing so.

Had I not explored the contents of that old cluttered drawer way back then, odds are I may never have developed a passion for photography. There is a comforting appeal in black and white, one with roots traveling back through time to my earliest days of taking pictures.

Jessie The Welder: Johnson's Welding Shop - A 1940's Vintage Look

Great places to shoot can be discovered anywhere. Seems like you search and search for weeks and nothing jumps out at you. Then, unexpected, you stumble onto a location so iconic, so classic in its ambiance, it becomes a gold mine mixture of atmosphere and light.

Took my Jeep down to have some minor preventative maintenance welding done and discovered such a place the other day. It turned out to be a fantastic piece of luck for within an obscure little welders shop I discovered a rustic, chaotically skewed, tumble down assortment of tools, junk, and old equipment, a genuine alive and breathing example of Americana, the heart and soul of the working class American.

"Jessie's the name...what can I do for ya?"

I should have guessed he'd have a perfect name like Jessie.

"Got a bunch of work wait'n on me rat now. Can ya bring 'er back in a cup'l weeks?" Jessie said after we discussed what I needed to have done to the old Jeep. He was the perfect nostalgic welder type. Sort of scruffy with a week long stubble growing across his textured and weathered face. His callused hands displayed a life of hard work with their deeply textured and toughened casings. His eyes, barely discernible behind the partially closed eyelids, cast a look of tired experience. Dressed in dungaree blue jeans and a chambray shirt, he just looked the part.

"Sure can," I said half paying attention as my eyes surveyed the cluttered insides of his old tin and wooden welders shop. "Jessie, I was wondering...I sometimes pretend to be a photographer and the inside of your shop has really intrigued me. You mind if I come back sometime and take some pictures."

"Ya mean of this ole junkie place?"

"Yeah, it really has a lot of character. I can see some really good shots coming out of here."

"Oh..I'd guess it'd be okay."

That conversation set me on the path for a new Adventure Photography photo shoot. The next morning found me arriving with camera gear in tow. Jessie was working on a trailer ramp adding a beefed up gate to the back of it. With the characteristic hum and crackle, a Christmas tree of sparks flew around him and the inside of the shop was set aglow by the bluish welding light being cast across the clutter. A faint white smoke floated in the air carrying with it a familiar yet foreign burnt aroma so common to the welders ark. He stopped just long enough to raise his helmet and nod his approval of seeing me again so soon.

"Mind if I take a few pictures?"

He simply nodded his approval, jerked his head forward to drop the welders helmet into place and started welding again.

The first few minutes were spent just walking around and looking for the right angles from which to shoot. I took a few natural light shots just to see what kind of ambient light existed. It wasn't bad, but I already knew what I needed to do as far as lighting. The ambient light came from two partially opened sliding garage-type doors, only bigger, one on each end and several narrow windows along the top half of the south wall. Even though there was a lot of light pouring in from the opened sliding doors, combined with the windows it provided just enough light to illuminate the edges. The shops was mostly filled with dark corners and shadowed ridges. My job then was to light the structure of the cluttered tables and equipment and provide not only adequate light, but a direction to the light as well. Also, I wanted to add some color, just enough to accent the flavor of the place, to rekindle a 1940's vintage look.

For the first shot I used four speed lights on stands stationed almost in a straight row. Each light was covered with an warming gel, just enough to cast a late afternoon style of evening light across the scene. The dark nature of the place seemed to swallow the light and it took a bit of power output to cast enough light into the corners to illuminate the place. After adjusting the power setting for each light I took several tests shots, then readjusted the lights until I got the look I wanted. The color images looked great, but in the back of my mind a sepia toned black and white image lived for each of these images.

For a couple of the shots I asked Jessie to stand in and give me his classic welders look. He seemed a bit awkward being asked to do such a thing, but all he had to do was be himself and the look took care of itself. I used a snooted light to focus the beam on him so I could purposely darken the background and have him stand out. For his second shot I had him sit in an old ratty chair and take on that I'm taking a break look. Two lights were used for this one, one pointing toward his back and one with a snoot pointing at him from an angle to cast a bit of light on his face. I wanted to recreate a late afternoon lighting effect.

All in all, the hour or so I spent inside that old welders shop was one of the most enjoyable hours I have had in a while. My new friend Jessie was a delight, filled with a nostalgic character, and the old shop blessed my camera with its rustic clutter. Jessie was about to hoist an old motorboat off its trailer as I started to walk out for the last time.

"You the only welder down here?" I asked him.

"Yeah...for now. Just me'un the boss. We used to lay pipe for the gas company long time ago. He started doing that 50 year ago. I've only been h're for 48 year."

I laughed, "You don't say...just 48 years."

He cast a giant friendly smile toward me as I walked out of the darkened shop and into the bright sunlight.

"See ya in a couple weeks." I said...and he nodded his approval again and went back to work.

Shooting on Location: A Process of Evaluation

Shooting on Location has its rewards and drawbacks. The drawbacks tend to multiply themselves when things do not go right. The rewards, however, far outweigh the drawbacks and are worth every headache you might encounter along the way. Location shoots offer opportunities not easily duplicated in a studio and the fun part of shooting on location is being able to build the shot to fit your concept. Throw in a portrait opportunity and the requirements change even more. But, building the shot requires a great deal more evaluation and effort than simply showing up and shooting at random with whatever light is available.

Shooting on location requires an element of evaluation; to do so effectively you must identify what is important, what to leave out or avoid, the direction and quality of the light, where the shadows are, where the hot spots are, what is in the background, and most importantly, what to accomplish here. Many novice photographers see the big picture and snap away without seriously contemplating what the potential of the location offers. Instead, take some time to think through the photographic problem and evaluate what the potential is.

I will often just sit and enjoy the moment if I am alone in a new outdoor location. Often this will slow down time and potential things to photograph begin to reveal themselves. Remember too, evaluation of a location means to think beyond what you are currently seeing and think in terms of what might be if you return to this same spot later in the day, or early before sunrise, or even a different season.

Some locations are simply filled with clutter often making it difficult to weed through and line up your shot(s) in such a way as to avoid including things that detract from your image story. When working in a cluttered location try to narrow the scope of your shot by focusing in on a smaller portion. Many times, this condensed portion will tell the larger story from a smaller perspective, and that in most cases is all you need to do. Oddly enough, the clutter itself can become your story, so keep an open mind about what you are shooting.

Some locations are just very bland in nature not presenting much in the way of an interesting story. When faced with this kind of dilemma you may need to shake up your composition by changing the angle from which you are shooting. Get down low, all the way if necessary, and include something small as part of your foreground. Also, c limb higher if you can, maybe even stand on top of your vehicle, a fence or wall, or simply raise your tripod as high as it will go, anything to change the perspective of your shot. This will often shift your view enough to allow the bland nature of the location to take on an entirely new and exciting look.

One location I have always enjoyed shooting when I can make it over that way is the Tallgrass Prairie Preserve located in north central Oklahoma. I've been there enough times to have identified several locations that potentially offer great photo opportunities. Even so, with each visit, the conditions have been so different they required a new and often changing evaluation of the situation.

The prairie possesses many changing moods and because of that when I am there I am constantly adjusting what I am doing. Early morning light on the prairie is fantastic with the rolling hills and shallow canyons often laced with mist or fog. By mid morning the light becomes much more harsh and direct which carries over well into the late afternoon. As the sun rolls closer to sundown, the angle of the light changes again casting shadows and creating shapes only seen during this magical hour. Factor in clouds and everything changes again. For each of those situations, a new evaluation of the conditions is required. Mid-day shooting means you have to focus in on details or capture the essence of a location through the use of contrast, color, and composition. Late afternoon means you need to find a different angle to shoot the same subjects you shot during the morning light. Near sundown, a large vista is required where you can capture one of those legendary prairie sunsets. In short, anticipate the potential of any given location and plan your shot accordingly, but leave yourself an opening to adapt to the changing conditions.

Location shooting requires a constant adjustment of what is required to capture the moment. Constantly looking for opportunities also requires you to see and look beyond the obvious and recognize how the dynamics of a location might change with a change in light. Effectively evaluate your situation and odds are you will capture some amazing photographs.

Being Seasick - It's True What They Say

It has been said there are two kinds of seasickness; one where you are so sick you are afraid you are going to die, and one where you are so sick, you are afraid you won't die. I've had both kinds and can attest to the validity and veracity of those statements.

I will never forget the first time I ever got seasick. It was one of the worst experiences of my life and was so bad, my fears about the meaning of the second statement rapidly threatened to end what few remaining minutes I was sure I had to live. It was November, 1973. Straight out of the Coast Guard boot camp I was assigned to one of the best duty stations then available in the Old Guard, The Umpqua River Lifeboat Station at Winchester Bay, Oregon. I was pretty green and inexperienced but filled with enthusiasm about the prospects of being a member of one of the elite units in the U.S. Coast Guard. So, when the opportunity came for me to make my first ride on one of the fabulous 44 foot motor lifeboats, the legendary CG44303, I jumped at the opportunity.

The Umpqua River Bar is considered one of the most treacherous crossings on the west coast. At it's worse, there could be multiple layers of 25 to 30 foot breakers booming across that narrow stretch of opening between the south and north jetties. When it was like that, nothing came in or went out. Our 44's were the only vessel capable of navigating through surf conditions like that, and we would only do so in an emergency. Luckily, for us on that day, the conditions were not so dramatic, but they were developing into a potential nasty situation with 10 to 12 foot breakers randomly breaking across the bar like rows of soldiers marching in rhythm to a musical beat. Several trawlers were wanting to come across before the bar closed up and were jumpy about coming across without a 44 on station.

Myron Dale our first class bos'nmate waved at me to come over.

"You ready for your first bar patrol?"

"You bet I am...let's do it", I said rather naively.

"Okay, then it could get nasty out there", he said warning me about what we might run into, " We could be out there for a while."

"I'm ready."

On our way out to ready the CG44303, because we would be on station through lunch, our cook made us some baloney sandwiches and handed us a thermos of coffee. Within a few minutes we had the 303 fired up and idled out of the boathouse.

Myron lifted the radio microphone and contacted the station, "Station Umpqua River...CG44303 underway." Red Oneil was our engineer on this run and his fire engine red hair poofed out from under his hat in a rather non-regulation manner. "Hey Sport...first time out huh." He said with his characteristic sandy-faced grin

"Yeah I guess so."

"Should be a piece of cake...we do this all the time. If anything happens, I'll tell you what to do...don't worry about anything."

I nodded again with my naive confidence.

The powerful twin Cummins diesels vibrated below deck and filled the air with their deep report even at idle speed. As we turned into the main channel, Myron shoved the throttles full forward and those engines roared like two lions after a kill. You could feel the power they possessed as they shoved the hull through the water. It was thrilling to say the least. I am finally here, I thought, actually getting involved in the action.

It took a few minutes to reach the bar area where we stopped just inside where the main channel crossed through. About five trawlers were lined up outside the bar waiting for it to lay down enough for them to come across. Breakers on the bar always occur in a series which varies somewhat, four or five, maybe as many as six or seven breakers before it will lay down just long enough to allow a boat to come through, then it starts all over again.

One by one they started coming across, The Midnight Sun, The Harmony....It took several minutes between each pass and slowly they crossed over without incident. Where we were sitting was pretty rough as we caught all the residual swells and chop coming off the bar and as well designed as those 44's were, they rode like an old bathtub rolling and rocking and kicking up and down, back and forth. Before long I began to feel the effects of all that random movement. My head started spinning, I burped several times and passed a few other assorted gasses, downwind. My insides started to feel woozy in ways I have never felt before. I moved around hoping by standing in another spot might alleviate the symptoms. It didn't work. The fumes from the diesel engines wafted like toxic, poisonous gases all around us exacerbating my situation. Red took notice of my situation.

"You're look'n a might peeked there Sport, a bit green around the gills. You gonna make it?"

"I ain't feeling so well..." I replied in a rather weak and pathetic voice.

"Well, Sport, what you need is to eat something...here, try one of these baloney and mayonnaise sandwiches. That'l fix ya right up."

Of course I naively took his advise and I never got past the first chew of the first bite. Over the side I leaned and the entire contents of my insides spilled like some vile poison onto the surface of the foam covered waters. Within seconds the seagulls swarmed all over that mess and fought over the larger chunks and my insides continued to empty themselves. Over and over, the retching continued unabated for several minutes to the point the only thing coming out was a thin line of yellow slime. My gut ached like nothing I have ever experienced. I literally thought I was dying.

All the while this was happening Red and Myron were laughing out loud at my plight. Not sure which made me madder, the seagulls or them laughing...I think it was the seagulls. After a few minutes I finally settled down and started to feel better. Red stopped his laughing long enough to comment on my situation. "See, told ya that would fix you up...got all that stuff out of ya and you feel better now don't ya."

I had to admit he was right, but good gosh all mighty that was the worst sick I've ever endured and I continued to retch a few more times until we headed in. Red gave me some advise afterwards. "Next time have ole cooky give you a bag of plain peanuts still in the hull and eat them while you are out there. Gives you something to do and keeps your mind off what's going on."

You know he was right and even though I still suffered from time to time with being seasick, I never again suffered quite as bad as that first time. By the time I finished my tour at the Umpqua River Station a few years later, I was a full fledged salty dog able to withstand even the nastiest of conditions...well...most of the time that is, as long as I had my bag of peanuts...:)

Add a Spark to Your Lighting With Gels

Natural and or existing light can be and is often very dramatic. However, the problem with natural light is you can't control it very well. Using shade, or a reflector, or some kind of diffuser gives you some limited ability to alter the light, but over all you are pretty well stuck with what nature gives you. Speedlites provide an alternative and versatile source of light, but even those have limitations. I do enjoy using speedlites and in recent years have turned to them more and more as a way to shape the light around my subject. What is exciting about speedlites is their ability to add color to your images thru the use of Gels.

Gels are simply thin transparent plastic sheets that fit over the head of the speedlight. They come in all colors but generally they are used to add warm or cool light to your image. Although they are relatively inexpensive to purchase, you can make your own quite easily. I have used colored, clear plastic document protectors cut to fit my lights. They work great, however the ones you purchase probably do have a more precise color cast to them.

One drawback to using gels is they will often reduce the power output of your lights. Depending on which ones you use and how many are stacked together, you can lose as much as a full stop of light output. This is easily overcome with some simple exposure compensation.

The best use of gels is to use them in such a way you do not realize they are there. A subtle cast of warm light or a gentle cooling effect is often all you need. Most of the time it is best to use them to enhance colors that already exist. The image above is a good example of this. Taken at the Corvette Cafe, we discovered lots of natural occurring bright colors as part of the 1950's diner experience. To create the image I used four speedlights and one 20x30 softbox. One of the lights was placed in the right hand corner of the cafe and used a pale blue gel which helped to enhance the chrome along the diner counter and provided a gentle rim light around our model. It also matched her dress. A pale blue light like this can often liven up dark corners and add a sense of cheeriness to the atmosphere. In the corner directly behind our model a light with red gel was used to fill in another dark space and to provide a matching contrast to the various red splashes found in the cafe. The gelled lights were set to a low power output to prevent overwhelming the image yet they added to the flavor of the scene. They looked like they belonged there and offered a subtle, pleasing effect.

There are times you might want to go for broke and use a strong color to add drama to your image. Bold colored gels can often transform an ordinary look into an image with a great deal of drama. The image below of the classic T-33 / F-80 Shooting Star is a good example. Taken just after dusk, I basically killed all the ambient light with the exposure settings and then built a bubble of light around the aircraft bouncing it off the tarmac so the airplane would define itself within that bubble. The bold nature of the light created a powerful look and transformed this wonderful static display into an image that jumps off the page.

Using Gels can be an exciting way to spice up your images. Used creatively you can turn what might be an ordinary picture into an image with a spark of excitement, one that generates an emotional response. The trick is to make it look like it belongs there.

Why Combining Two Images to Make One is Sometimes Better Than Simply Shooting One Image

Sometimes I over-think things. I tend to get caught up in details of how and why something is the way it is. I've even been told, subtly mind you, that I over-complicate things and sometimes create a cluttered view of what I am talking about as a result. I know this to be true and do take it to heart, no really I do, but I just can't help myself when it comes to something where there is a revelation of sorts that seems to jump out at me. Take for instance the subject of this article. Based on the title you might be thinking, well, there he goes again. You'd probably be right, but hear me out, because I do believe this actually makes sense.

So, why is combining two images to make one, sometimes better than simply shooting one image to start with? Well, let me explain. First of all, this idea does not always apply to every situation.  In most cases a single, well-lit photo of a subject is more than adequate to create an appealing image. However there are circumstances where capturing two or more images, then combining them into one will create a more powerful looking image.

Let's take the picture above of an F-4 Phantom aircraft as an example. In recent weeks I have been concentrating on this particular shoot for several reasons and have included commentary in several blog posts about it. The more I began to study the outcome of this image, the more I began to realize  the final result could not have been made without the combining of two separate images. Had I used lets say six or seven flash units all at once, I potentially could have captured this image in a single shot. However, it would never have looked the same and might have even been inferior to the final image created using four speedlights and two combined images.

The reason is this. Had I used six or seven flash units at the same time, they would have been working against each other. Part of the appeal of this image is the dramatic use of light (red light in this case) bounced off the tarmac and then reflected back into the underside of the aircraft. Two other lights were used to illuminate the outside edges. This combination created the first image. Take notice how the light and shadows along with the reflections created a strong dramatic appearance.

After re-positioning the lights, a second image was created by pointing two lights toward the canopy and filling the front, top, and underside of the aircraft with ordinary white light. This flood of white light bouncing off the tarmac is what would create the problem if they were used at the same time as the wing positioned red lights.

In the final results, the second image was layered on top of the first image. The dramatic red light was then revealed by erasing portions of the top layer and leaving the  top half of the layer alone. Had I used six flash units at the same time, the additional two units pointing toward the canopy would have diluted and washed out the red light and shadows coming from behind the wings. The dramatic red light would no longer have been there, at least not at the same intensity levels. Also, most if not all of the Vanishing Point depth and dimension created by the shadows would have been lost.

By combining two separate exposures, the lighting effects of each individual exposure were fully realized without interfering with each other.

The image above is a sample of a similar aircraft that was captured in a single shot using seven flash units at the same time. Notice how the white lights seem to have washed out the power and strength of the red gelled lights. It's a nice photo, but without the drama that could have been, had we used two separate shots. Not every situation lends itself well to this technique, but, sometimes thinking through a problem and observing the results, however unexpected, can often reveal an exciting outcome.

So...maybe I do over-think problems a bit too much. I suppose it is a bi-product of 30 years of mainframe computer programming where that is what you do...everyday. Building a final image from multiple shots is not a new idea, but combining multiple images with creative lighting just might offer a way to experience the power and versatility of speedlights in a unique way. It sort of occurred to me just how much merit this concept really does warrant.

Shaping Light to Fit Your Subject

Dusk was upon me before I was ready and the bright display lights at the Aviation Heritage Park in Bowling Green kicked on as the daylight faded. The lights were much brighter than I remembered and I was concerned they would interfere with my planned shooting for that evening. Turned out my apprehension was premature because in fact they actually helped out because they provided enough illumination so the camera could easily focus, but not so much to drown out the lighting I was planning to use. About the only issue with them was they created a florescent glow the camera wanted to interpret as a greenish cast. A simple tweak of the White Balance eliminated the threat, and I was confident the speedlights would provide enough horsepower to overcome any adverse affect they might have.

As part of the Adventure Photography series, my project for the previous two weeks was to capture the historical aircraft on display at the park. There were five beautifully restored ones all having a connection to Bowling Green and Kentucky. Capturing vintage aircraft such as these in such a way as to avoid reproducing the standard cliche images requires a bit of thought. I had to ask, then answer one question; How do I shape my light to fit my subject?

I could have taken the normal approach and simply pointed my lights at the aircraft and flooded them with light. I knew this would never fulfill my creative desire to capture them in a unique way. I also ran into the problem of having only four speedlights to work with when I actually needed six or even eight to do the job effectively. As I walked around the F-4 Phantom, a huge aircraft even though it was an air superiority fighter, I realized there was no way I was going to capture this magnificent piece of history without taking a multiple image approach, then combining two images into a new single image. The idea was to first illuminate the underside of the aircraft, then photograph the topside. These two images then would be combined to create the final photograph.

My first decision was to decide from which angle to shoot. The F-4 carries itself well from most all angles, but the most striking appeared to be from straight on. Using this angle allowed for a dramatic use of what is known in the art world as a Vanishing Point, where all straight lines tend to point toward a single converging point thus creating an illusion of three dimensions. This also created a sense of movement and speed.

The next problem to solve was how to light this enormous aircraft using just four speedlights. It was much too large to capture in a single photograph. Dramatic lighting was a requirement and to create this drama I was going to use a set of homemade red gels to cover two of the lights. The gels were made from a document protector cut to fit the dimensions of the flash units. Two other units would remain uncovered and provide a basic white light. The idea then was to indirectly light the underside of the aircraft by bouncing the light off the tarmac. Two lights each were clamped to the back edges of both wings with the lights pointing down with a slight angle forward. This lighting setup effectively illuminated the underside of the F-4, but the top part of the airframe remained relatively dark. The lights of course were fired remotely from the camera.

I placed the camera on a tripod and aligned the composition. After some test shots I settled in on an exposure of f/5.6 at 28 mm with a shutter of 1/15 and an ISO of 800, using a remote cable release. Part of the problem was to also eliminate or kill off most if not all of the ambient light spilling over from the background. Once that was confirmed as the best exposure to accomplish this, I locked the camera in place on the tripod and left it alone. The first image was captured.

I now had to capture the second image. With the underside of the airframe captured, I needed to position the lights in such a way as to throw some light across the front and top portion. To do this I used two tall light stands one each positioned just outside the wingtips and somewhat in front of the airframe angled toward the canopy. Leaving the camera setting alone effectively prevented any movement of the camera that could throw off the critical alignment of the two images when blending the final two shots into one.

Again it required several test shots and power setting adjustments to get the desired results, but once I had that accomplished, I was pretty well done for the night. All that was required from that point on was to blend the two images into a single new image and do some tweaking in Photoshop to clean up the image.

The idea of this entire exercise was to avoid simply using light to illuminate the F-4 but to use light to shape the subject. The tarmac in essence became part of the main sources of light. Drama was demanded for this aircraft, to do justice to its classic lines, its history, and to its legacy. Using speedlights to shape light so it fits the subject requires not only an understanding of composition, but of the versatility of using off camera flash. It also required stepping away from the ordinary and looking at the problem in an extraordinary way.

When the normal way of doing something falls short of your expectations, don't be afraid to shake up your approach, try something new, something unique, because only then will you be able to truly gain a comprehensive command of the photographic process. Always doing the same ole thing the same ole way can result in ordinary pictures of things. To create the extraordinary, to capture drama, requires a  unique and extraordinary approach. Shaping light to fit your subject, how better way to use the power and versatility of speedlights.