Personal photography
When I was in Oslo early June, I tried to spend as much time as possible in the streets taking photos. For me, as I was there for work, it meant mainly in the morning on my way to the office. Which was good: the light was great. High enough to go between buildings, but not above them.
There is a scene in the animated series Archer where everybody is stuck in the elevator. Krieger, the mad scientist, is holding a Thermos bottle. Someone asks him: is that soup in there? And he answers in an enigmatic way: define “soup”.
I won’t only show what I think are good photos here. It’s worth discussing failures as well, and it’s important to be honest. Here is such a failure.
I discussed wanting but failing to start a project lately. My conclusion was that if you can’t find an obvious project, one way of starting could be to choose a technology, a constraint, or a theme, then go out and take photos to see where it goes.
I was in Oslo lately (for work). So I decided to put that conclusion into practice. I decided:
Finally, I decided to experiment with a few techniques:
This is one of the first monochrome photos I made back in 2006. It was taken at Dunnottar, a fortress on a rock in Northern Scotland. I wanted to learn digital monochrome at a time when it wasn’t that common (or it was just desaturation and super flat).
I’ve spent the better part of six months telling myself I need a photography project. The logic is sound: focused work develops technique faster than scattered shooting, sustained exploration reveals patterns in my visual thinking, and constraints paradoxically liberate creativity. Yet here I sit, project-less, waiting for something to ignite sufficient passion to sustain months of dedicated work.
This is another seashore photo from Northern Scotland. It was taken in 2006 with a Canon 350D (I know, archaic) + Canon 17-55IS.
This time the subjects are the boats around the centre of the frame. Boats always make an interesting scene because they evoque the sound and smell of the sea, the stillness of the water (this isn’t a long exposure), and they have interesting symmetry due to their reflections.
To make sure that the boats are obviously the subject and to make the shot a bit more interesting, I placed myself where the top of the wooden ladder on the pier framed the boats, left and right.
I also tried to make the background shore and the stone pier frame these same boats, top and bottom.
Finally, I tried to put the shore line, the pier, and the ladder legs on third lines to balance the frame.
To balance the brightness and colour of the sky and the sea, I used a light ND grad.
I would have preferred to have the boats a bit more centred. But if I moved up, I lost the framing of the ladder, and if I changed the angle I lost the pier in the foreground.
In terms of processing, I didn’t do much apart from readjusting the levels a little bit.
#Photography #PhotosExplained #Analysis
Following my previous post about the obsession with details, photography genres require different ways of seeing and representing the subjects that I find hard to adapt to.
Did you like my attempt at YT-style clickbait? Seriously, there is no such thing. There is no perfect setup; there is no one way to do things; there is no best lens/camera/film. Only you can know what gear works for you given a set of circumstances. Let’s move on from that.
As I’m going to travel to Oslo, as I do a couple of times a year for work (I work for vikings), I thought I’d show my camera travel setup and explain my choices. Not because I do it better than anyone else and I have some magical knowledge of what is best, but just out of interest, because I like to know what people use for their own photography. Feel free to show me yours.
One of the things that I’ve been thinking about for a long time is: what will happen to my photos once I’m gone? I’m not talking about whether the actual images will still exist (hint: print). I’m talking about what will people do with them.
