SHOOTING DIRT :: LEARNING THROUGH RANDOMNESS
An experienced photographer, his thinning hair white with age, stood over a light table examining the recent work of a significantly younger colleague. "You are improving," he said. "Still some issues, especially with depth of field, but you're learning."
"How can I learn more?" the youthful photographer asked. "I'm still so very far from keeping up with you. Can I speed up the process or am I going to be old before I'm any good?"
"Shoot dirt," came the seasoned reply.
The young man blinked in confused disbelief. "Shoot dirt? As in, go find a pile of dirt and take pictures of it."
"Sure, why not," the older man said dryly.
"I don't see how that is going to help any," the rookie said. "Dirt doesn't move. It's boring. There's no interest there."
"Sure there is, you just have to find it," came the matter-of-fact reply. "You're getting good at taking pictures, but you're still not thinking like a photographer. There is nothing, nothing, that cannot be photographed with interest, whether it's a blade of grass, a pile of dirt, or pigeon droppings. You're worrying so much about whether your aperture and shutter speed are right that you end up missing what should be the focal point of your picture. Get out. Shoot dirt. Find the interest in every-day objects, and it will change how you do your work. You'll improve faster than years worth of classes, I promise."
The grizzled veteran with more than 40 years behind the camera knew well of which he spoke. Among photographers, especially those newer to the field, there is a compulsion to obsess over the technical aspects. What's the shutter speed? Is the aperture correct? Are you using the correct lens? While those and others are all appropriate concerns, there is a point at which one must cease fiddling with the camera and take the time to actually look at the subject. What is really the focus of the shot about to be taken? What is the potential?
Consider the following image, taken during a walk on a fall afternoon:
This shot was taken in a rather heavily wooded area just off a jogging trail. The shutter was set to 1/500, the aperture at f/11, with the ISO at 800. There was no overwhelming reason to take this shot, no requirements, no external compulsion, so why bother?
Take a careful look at the photo and consider what all there is to see. First, there's the technical aspect. Notice that the shot is taken directly facing the sun, but that the trees tremendously diffuse the direct light. It is also worth noting that even at 800 ISO the sunlight did not completely over-expose the frame. The effect of spot-lighting a central piece of ground against the silhouette of tree trunks gives one an anticipatory feeling as though perhaps an angel or some other character is about to appear on the stage. From a purely technical position, there is much to consider.
Look beyond the technical, however, and one may see an image of hope, breathing through from the darkness and fear of thick overgrowth into the sunlight. Symbolically, there is warmth, freedom, happiness and blue sky just ahead, an end to darkness and despair, new opportunities and perhaps even an escape from trouble. Is that a picture worth taking? Absolutely! But if all one sees are leaves and an annoying glare of light, then the camera is likely to remain in the bag as the hike continues.
One does not have to limit themselves to nature. Almost anything one sees can become an object for study. A car. A clock. A table. A coffee cup. Sometimes the most simple and seemingly uninteresting objects can generate surprises when one takes the time to study them carefully through the lens of the camera.
The following picture is a good example of an object that, on first observation, may not seem too terribly interesting. The playground equipment in a public park may seem somewhat straight forward and almost utilitarian. After all, slides and jungle gyms haven't changed too terribly much over the past fifty years--unless, one gets down low to examine the equipment from the perspective of a small child. Suddenly, the playground can take on a very different appearance.
From an architectural perspective, the playground now becomes a study in the intersection of shapes and forms. Parallel lines intersecting, arches reaching toward a blue sky. For an adult, the image may even border on having some artistic quality.
Now, put yourself again in the position of a small child. Look up with a little imagination and what do you see? A space ship? Giant butterflies? A monster baring its teeth? Seeing this suddenly large and frequently backlit world through innocent and sometimes frightened eyes dramatically changes one's perspective, and the way one shoots a given object.
Taking random photographs also provide the photographer with a chance to practice on subjects that really don't care how the final image looks. The image below is a section of a climbing wall on the same playground as the image above. The curves, structure, and texture of the wall provided ample opportunity to study depth of field, contrast, color depth, and white balance.
This particular image is one of a set of three hundred shot over the course of a weekday afternoon, when few children were present. The images display not only changes on the camera, but changes in the light quality as the afternoon waned into evening. As the temperature of the sunlight cooled and shadows deepened, changes in white balance and lens speed revealed more texture and depth than did similar images taken just an hour earlier. Within the set are images that one would not likely consider acceptable for public display, but even those images teach us what doesn't work within the given parameters.
Photography can at times appear to be a very complex and daunting field. One sees the finished work of experienced photographers and perhaps wonders just exactly how they managed to make a given situation work when one's own attempts in similar settings have proven less successful. There are not great mysteries or hidden secrets to photography, however. The more we shoot, the more we learn. The more one explores, the greater one's discoveries.
What is critical is that one take the lessons learned from "shooting dirt" and apply them to the more serious work. The changes one may discover from photographing all the various angles and perspectives of a coffee cup can be applied to how one approaches any other object with similar height-width proportions. Observing how curves and lines come together in a structure may have application in posing a model in front of a linear background. Almost everything one learns from studies of seemingly "boring" subjects has a practical application in other aspects of photography.
And sometimes, such adventures give birth to something greater. One learns to see life differently, more observant, more aware of the things that are missed in casual passing. It is here that one learns to think and to see like a photographer, moving past the pedestrian street view of life to see how things might appear through the lens, even when the camera is still in the bag.
Returning exactly 24 hours later to the same park that yielded the random studies above provided the opportunity to put into action what had been learned the previous day.
Practice. Learn. Apply. Improving your photography skills doesn't require rooms full of equipment or expensive excursions to distant seminars. Everything one needs is right within one's reach. Here's an assignment you may want to try:
Now, go shoot some dirt.
"How can I learn more?" the youthful photographer asked. "I'm still so very far from keeping up with you. Can I speed up the process or am I going to be old before I'm any good?"
"Shoot dirt," came the seasoned reply.
The young man blinked in confused disbelief. "Shoot dirt? As in, go find a pile of dirt and take pictures of it."
"Sure, why not," the older man said dryly.
"I don't see how that is going to help any," the rookie said. "Dirt doesn't move. It's boring. There's no interest there."
"Sure there is, you just have to find it," came the matter-of-fact reply. "You're getting good at taking pictures, but you're still not thinking like a photographer. There is nothing, nothing, that cannot be photographed with interest, whether it's a blade of grass, a pile of dirt, or pigeon droppings. You're worrying so much about whether your aperture and shutter speed are right that you end up missing what should be the focal point of your picture. Get out. Shoot dirt. Find the interest in every-day objects, and it will change how you do your work. You'll improve faster than years worth of classes, I promise."
The grizzled veteran with more than 40 years behind the camera knew well of which he spoke. Among photographers, especially those newer to the field, there is a compulsion to obsess over the technical aspects. What's the shutter speed? Is the aperture correct? Are you using the correct lens? While those and others are all appropriate concerns, there is a point at which one must cease fiddling with the camera and take the time to actually look at the subject. What is really the focus of the shot about to be taken? What is the potential?
Consider the following image, taken during a walk on a fall afternoon:
This shot was taken in a rather heavily wooded area just off a jogging trail. The shutter was set to 1/500, the aperture at f/11, with the ISO at 800. There was no overwhelming reason to take this shot, no requirements, no external compulsion, so why bother?
Take a careful look at the photo and consider what all there is to see. First, there's the technical aspect. Notice that the shot is taken directly facing the sun, but that the trees tremendously diffuse the direct light. It is also worth noting that even at 800 ISO the sunlight did not completely over-expose the frame. The effect of spot-lighting a central piece of ground against the silhouette of tree trunks gives one an anticipatory feeling as though perhaps an angel or some other character is about to appear on the stage. From a purely technical position, there is much to consider.
Look beyond the technical, however, and one may see an image of hope, breathing through from the darkness and fear of thick overgrowth into the sunlight. Symbolically, there is warmth, freedom, happiness and blue sky just ahead, an end to darkness and despair, new opportunities and perhaps even an escape from trouble. Is that a picture worth taking? Absolutely! But if all one sees are leaves and an annoying glare of light, then the camera is likely to remain in the bag as the hike continues.
One does not have to limit themselves to nature. Almost anything one sees can become an object for study. A car. A clock. A table. A coffee cup. Sometimes the most simple and seemingly uninteresting objects can generate surprises when one takes the time to study them carefully through the lens of the camera.
The following picture is a good example of an object that, on first observation, may not seem too terribly interesting. The playground equipment in a public park may seem somewhat straight forward and almost utilitarian. After all, slides and jungle gyms haven't changed too terribly much over the past fifty years--unless, one gets down low to examine the equipment from the perspective of a small child. Suddenly, the playground can take on a very different appearance.
From an architectural perspective, the playground now becomes a study in the intersection of shapes and forms. Parallel lines intersecting, arches reaching toward a blue sky. For an adult, the image may even border on having some artistic quality.
Now, put yourself again in the position of a small child. Look up with a little imagination and what do you see? A space ship? Giant butterflies? A monster baring its teeth? Seeing this suddenly large and frequently backlit world through innocent and sometimes frightened eyes dramatically changes one's perspective, and the way one shoots a given object.
Taking random photographs also provide the photographer with a chance to practice on subjects that really don't care how the final image looks. The image below is a section of a climbing wall on the same playground as the image above. The curves, structure, and texture of the wall provided ample opportunity to study depth of field, contrast, color depth, and white balance.
This particular image is one of a set of three hundred shot over the course of a weekday afternoon, when few children were present. The images display not only changes on the camera, but changes in the light quality as the afternoon waned into evening. As the temperature of the sunlight cooled and shadows deepened, changes in white balance and lens speed revealed more texture and depth than did similar images taken just an hour earlier. Within the set are images that one would not likely consider acceptable for public display, but even those images teach us what doesn't work within the given parameters.
Photography can at times appear to be a very complex and daunting field. One sees the finished work of experienced photographers and perhaps wonders just exactly how they managed to make a given situation work when one's own attempts in similar settings have proven less successful. There are not great mysteries or hidden secrets to photography, however. The more we shoot, the more we learn. The more one explores, the greater one's discoveries.
What is critical is that one take the lessons learned from "shooting dirt" and apply them to the more serious work. The changes one may discover from photographing all the various angles and perspectives of a coffee cup can be applied to how one approaches any other object with similar height-width proportions. Observing how curves and lines come together in a structure may have application in posing a model in front of a linear background. Almost everything one learns from studies of seemingly "boring" subjects has a practical application in other aspects of photography.
And sometimes, such adventures give birth to something greater. One learns to see life differently, more observant, more aware of the things that are missed in casual passing. It is here that one learns to think and to see like a photographer, moving past the pedestrian street view of life to see how things might appear through the lens, even when the camera is still in the bag.
Returning exactly 24 hours later to the same park that yielded the random studies above provided the opportunity to put into action what had been learned the previous day.
Practice. Learn. Apply. Improving your photography skills doesn't require rooms full of equipment or expensive excursions to distant seminars. Everything one needs is right within one's reach. Here's an assignment you may want to try:
Nature gives us ample opportunity to learn and observe. The next time the weather is appropriate for doing so, go outside, pick a spot in full sun, lie on the ground, and shoot 60 frames, one per minute for a full hour. With each shot, adjust aperture or shutter speed. Look through the lens carefully and adjust the focal point (not necessarily the focal length) from the closest object to the furthest possible with your lens. At the end of the hour, upload your images and use a digital lightbox application to compare the images. Using the camera's metadata as reference, note what elements changes from image to image compared with changes in aperture and shutter speed. How does depth of field change? How does the light change? Which settings generate the best contrast?
Equally important, what changed in your scenery over the course of the hour? Did bugs or insects come into frame? Did wind blow anything across your range of vision? Did shadows increase or decrease? Did your perspective change any? Take careful notes of your impressions for later consideration.
Now, go shoot some dirt.
posted by Charles at
12:42 PM
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