Postcards from the Creative Journey

Aspect and Orientation

Entry, Oysterville Church
Oysterville, Washington

You can change the aspect ratio when you photograph with a digital camera. Do you like 16:9, 4:3, or did you grow up with 120 film and adore the 1:1 (two and a quarter square) image? When we photographed with film, aspect ratios were decided by the camera and film you chose. When I photographed with a view camera, the “standard” was 4x5, but I really fell in love with the 5x7 format because it was a very elegant perfectly proportioned format.

Do you have a “native” aspect ratio that is set up on your camera? Do you have one that looks best to you, or do you make that decision with each image?

How about landscape versus portrait orientation? Is there one orientation that predominates in your vision? I have noticed that my picture orientation varies by location, with interiors tending toward a vertical orientation and landscapes (naturally) being horizontal. I think that my tendency to photograph with a vertical orientation indoors is a combination of being confined by interior walls and needing to show as much as possible. I think the vertical orientation is the way to show more of the subject. While I don’t have the statistics to back it up, I tend to think of Edward Weston’s photographs being mostly in the vertical orientation. (I think that might be a great MFA project, with a suitably obscure and academic title, of course.)

I am not obsessive enough to chart the balance between horizontal and vertical compositions of my photographs, but I do go through a conscious decision when I sequence images in a folio to maintain a balance between the two orientations.

The Book Dilemma

Books, books, books

The Rice Museum, Georgetown, SC

I have many books of photographs. I purchased most of them many years ago. They have a moderate amount of sentimental value, but (if I am to believe my internet inquires) may apparently have a higher value as collectables. My attempts to share my collection with well-heeled collectors have been for naught. Either the market for “collectible” books has been grossly over-rated, or the denizens of eBay possess a less refined taste in exquisite books of photographs than your humble author.

I guess if one looks at them now, books printed 30 or 40 years ago actually look much worse than current reprints. Technology has changed so much in that time that reprints are significantly better than the originals. They are valuable as artifacts but a poor representation of the work. So the question of value and importance raises its ugly head. If you want to look at a finely printed example of the photograph, buy a reprint. If you want the pride of ownership of an “original” then the used book is for you.

The Indecisive Moment

Buddhist Temple

Baotou, Inner Mongolia, PRC

Indecision is the biggest killer of great photographs. I can think of nothing worse than being undecided about a photograph. The first decision every photographer must make is whether or not to commit to a particular scene. In the olden days of film photography (like, five years ago) there was a cost for film and an investment of time in the creation of a photograph. When I was doing large format photography, I took a long time to decide if I was committed enough to the scene to spend the time and money on developing the film and making a print. There was a whole lot of editing done before the shutter was pressed because there was an investment of time and money on the outcome. Prior to the exposure, you had to be committed to the photograph and the process.

A long time ago Portland Photographer Richard Brown made a comment about people taking 1/30 of a second to make a photograph and spent the rest of their life trying to explain the photograph. I think it’s much better to take the necessary time to figure out what the photograph will mean, how you will achieve that meaning and then decisively make the photograph.

The Quest for the Best

The Rice Museum, Georgetown, SC

There is a specific name for it. It’s called GAS, for Gear Acquisition Syndrome. Photographers suffer from it, I imagine musicians do too. In fact, I would wager hobbyists of all stripes that lust after “the best” in terms of the gear they require to pursue the art or craft of their choice. I am not an equipment fiend. Up until a few years ago, my primary camera was a Wista Field Camera I purchased in 1978. I have gone through a couple of “prosumer” digital cameras that I enjoyed using. Early this year I purchased the latest and greatest technologically advanced digital camera that was superseded by the next generation camera a few months after I bought it. Such is the price of progress.

I am philosophical about the constant change in equipment. Good equipment won’t make you a better photographer. You are still the person behind the new camera. The new camera doesn’t change the content of your picture. The new camera removes the “my equipment isn’t good enough” excuse. No longer will you have a multitude of excuses based on the failure of technology. When the new camera removes “my equipment isn’t good enough” excuse for a bad photograph the only thing left to blame for a bad photograph is the photographer.