Teaching photography
well is challenging.
Challenging because once you’ve successfully communicated
the mechanics of camera settings the real work is just beginning.
It’s everything that follows that makes the difference between
unfulfilling snapshots and satisfying photographs… images that
touch emotion and convey meaning without words.
successful is like trying to explain to someone how much seasoning
a dish needs. You can have a recipe to get you close but in the end
you must commit to an attempt at seasoning and then taste it. At
that point you can tell you got it right or if you need to keep
going because it just isn’t satisfying. Making a photograph is very
much the same. You can explain a basic set of rules that generally
describe characteristics of a good photograph but, like seasoning,
the characteristics will require a unique modification tailored to
every subject and situation. For the photographer learning their
way this is most easily assessed after the images are made. Even
then, for many the assessment remains somewhat of an enigma. Often
when asked to describe what makes one of their photos successful
and another a candidate for file 13, photographers are at a loss
for a specific explanation. This is one of the reasons why taking a
workshop with a good mentor can be so rewarding. To look over his
or her shoulder as they relate the strengths or weaknesses of a
hundred photos taken by dozens of photographers is a chance to
begin building an analytical library which can gradually clear the
mystery of what makes a successful photograph.
there will be a moment during which I say to someone, “This is a
well exposed, sharply focused photo, but tell me what is here that
makes it special, intended to hold my interest and move
me.”
Would you ever go
fishing without a hook? Of course not. Why? Because without a hook
your line cannot hold the fish. In the same way, a photo without a
“hook” cannot hold a viewers attention or stimulate much of an
emotional response. A photographer can easily find a situation they
instinctively feel should be conducive to making a powerful photo.
But until they identify the visual hook they will aimlessly create
images destined for file 13. With time and experience garnered from
making thousands and thousands of images that don’t work, it gets
incrementally easier to recognize when a hook presents itself and a
meaningful photo becomes a distinct possibility. Sometimes the hook
is so big it smacks the viewer in the face. Other times the hook
can be so subtle that it takes a moment for the viewer to find it
in the image. But once discovered even that small hook can hold
fast. It’s all about that critical detail.
special light and the presence of a critical detail, a
hook.
The first shot
was made on a rooftop in NYC. It was near sunset (cue beautiful
warm glowing light in the background). I meant to be shooting the
New York City skyline, as I had access to a rooftop view that
seemed to guarantee success. Yet as I moved from perspective to
perspective my search for a good hook was daunting. Then suddenly I
saw THE hook, the salient detail that if captured would seal the
deal. In a wine glass white wine was acting like a camera lens,
refracting skyline buildings into an inverted miniature in the
glass just below the surface of the wine. Sensing the possibility
and without any explanation, I simply asked the woman to hold her
glass as still as possible while she continued her conversation. I
worked her glass with a relatively shallow depth of field and made
sure to catch her face in the periphery of the frame. I love
watching people look at the resultant photo. Universally they are
initially drawn in by the ambiance of the sunset light and the
woman’s face. Then they discover the skyline in the wine glass. The
light goes on in their eye and they exclaim amazement as the hook
sets deep and holds their attention.
alt=""
src="http://www.imagema.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2013/01/20130105-171232-169x300.jpg"
width="169" height="300" />
end of the day and the antithesis of a roof top in NYC: sunrise at
the beach. I’m continually amazed by how few people I see on the
beach at this time of day (30 minutes before sunrise). If you can
just get out of bed and take a peak at the sky to check the weather
you’re 90% of the way there. It is so rewarding to savor the
majesty of dawn. DO IT! This morning the early pastels were so
lovely when I glanced thru the window blinds that 90 seconds later,
in fleece pants and jacket over pajamas, I was literally running
the 50 yards to the beach because I didn’t want to miss even
seconds of potentially spectacular colors. As I calmed down and
made my way to the waters edge, I began to wait for a hook. I had
basic elements, gorgeous color in the sky (changing every minute)
and the lure of rolling surf and reflective water, but these alone
were not enough to really carry the image. There are millions of
sunrise / sunset photos taken every day butmost don’t include a
good hook, destined to be mere snapshots. As I walked slowly a
runner passed me headed east. I worked her in the lower left corner
of the frame as she gradually diminished in size until her scale
against the ocean and sky suddenly clicked. She became the tiny
period at the end of a sentence defining man’s significance against
the background of nature. Without her presence the frame is just a
snapshot of pretty colors and some waves. Like the skyline in the
wine glass, when the viewer finds her tiny form on the spit of
beach, the sudden scale becomes powerful.
alt=""
src="http://www.imagema.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2013/01/MTA_130101_0209-300x169.jpg"
width="300" height="169" />
of recognizing the elements in your frame and understanding when
one can be the successful hook. Just as the experienced fisherman
can de
One Comment
I enjoyed reading the blog post. Good points. I really like the wine glass image. VERY nice!
Tom Wilson