Old or New, It Matters Not

In the gallery world, prints created using the platinum/palladium, wet plate collodion, and other antiquated processes generally fetch much higher prices from collectors than modern archival inkjet prints. These "craft" prints are desirable due to their unique beauty, archival qualities, and rarity. They are undoubtedly beautiful, but not necessarily more so than the best modern prints. And even though high-quality modern prints now boast upwards of 200-year archival quality, it doesn't really matter; perception is everything when it comes to the value of collectible art.

Some photographers--even outside of the gallery world--also consider these antiquated processes to be superior to modern digital processes. The common argument is that the old methods are more difficult, which in the minds of some, makes them more legitimate. Of course, the difficulty of any art form has never been tied to its ability to express emotion and move the viewer. It is also debatable whether the old techniques are actually more difficult to master than modern tools such as Photoshop, many of which require years of dedicated effort to fully master. Different than the old techniques? Yes. Easier to master? Not really.

I believe photographers should use whatever tools they enjoy that also enable them to fully express their personal vision. That might be anything from wet plate cameras from the 19th century to the latest iPhone apps from last week. What matters is not the tool, technique, or process, but the ability of the artist to capture an idea or emotion and convey it to the viewer in a powerful way.

Getting Ready​

I just finished framing a print for the upcoming members' exhibition at the Blue Line Gallery in Roseville. The 18" square (30" framed) gelatin silver print titled Ephemeral Wetland (at right or full size here) will be on display from July 19th through August 24th. The gallery is located in old town Roseville at 405 Vernon Street. It would be great to see you at the artists' reception on Thursday, July 20th, from 6-9 p.m.

Some of my other prints will be on display in the upcoming California Fine Arts exhibition at Cal Expo and the Viewpoint Members' exhibition at the Viewpoint Photographic Art Center in Midtown Sacramento. Details about those and other upcoming shows can be found on my exhibitions page.

Rectangles and Squares

Aspect Ratios

Before the advent of digital photography, the physical characteristics of the recording medium (film) had much to do with the physical characteristics of the final print. There was the ability to crop an image in the darkroom, but in most cases, the aspect ratio of the final print matched the aspect ratio of the negative. Today, we have no such constraints. Many digital cameras provide the option of setting a handful of different aspect ratios in-camera, and of course, cropping in post is no more than a one-click operation.

This freedom to determine the aspect ratio of every image on the fly puts tremendous pressure on the photographer. Failing to choose an aspect ratio prior to composing an image is like trying to design a page layout without knowing the size or shape of the page. Whether it's the native aspect ratio of the digital sensor, or some other aspect ratio chosen for aesthetic reasons, it's good practice to choose an image shape before bringing the viewfinder up to the eye. Doing so provides a solid framework for setting up a composition, while failing to do so changes the process of image composition from one of careful consideration to one of mostly luck and happenstance.

The Square

The 120 film format was popular in the 1960s and is still available today. Cameras that take 120 film are often called Medium Format cameras. 120 film allows several aspect ratios, including (but not limited to) 1.35:1, 1:1, and 1.50:1. A number of my favorite photographers from that era shot 120 film in the 6x6 (1:1 aspect ratio) square format. Their influence is one of the reasons I choose to shoot square images on a digital camera with a rectangular sensor.

The other reason I shoot square is related to my work as a graphic artist. In the world of graphic design--particularly print design--artists are working in rectangles nearly 100% of the time. After doing this for decades, you naturally get pretty good at parsing out rectangles. For me, the square format provides a fresh, more interesting challenge that requires a higher degree of intuitive thinking. It also frees me up from adherence to the classical rules of composition that are so deeply ingrained in the rectangle.

California Fine Art - Viewpoint Award

I was pleased to find out that my photo Upper Putah Creek was honored with the Viewpoint Photographic Art Center Award for best black and white photo at the California Fine Arts exhibition. Awards of any kind are always a welcome validation of one's work, but it's a particular honor to receive an award from my photographic peers. Many thanks to the jurors and the Viewpoint Photographic Art Center.

I hope you can make it out to the California Fine Arts exhibition this year. The show looks great; eclectic as always, with lots of strong work in a wide variety of media. Details as follows:

California Fine Art
July 12 – July 28, 2013
California State Fair
Cal Expo, Expo Center Building 7
Sacramento, CA

Gear and Art

We all know it's not about the camera, but it doesn't seem to matter; everyone asks about gear anyway. The most frequently asked question of any photographer has to be, "What kind of camera do you use?" That always strikes me as a bit odd since we don't enjoy a good meal and then ask the chef what kind of pots and pans she used. I suppose there's a hidden assumption at work here, one that says photography, unlike other less technically oriented art forms, is dependent more on the gear and less on the gear handler.

This may be partially true up to a certain level. Today, the average point-and-shooter, outfitted with a mid-range automatic camera from any of the top makers, can take pretty darned good snapshots with little-to-no training. This overall improvement in gear has democratized photography to the point that it's sometimes hard to pick out a photographer in a crowd. Or to look at it another way, it's becoming harder and harder to find a crowd that isn't chock-full of photographers.

The upside for the fine art photographer is that not much has changed in the realm of art. When put up against armies of serious amateurs armed with serious gear, the fine art photographer still brings the two biggest guns; an artist's eye and a creative temperament. Certainly, neither are exclusive to the fine art photographer, but they also can't be bought online at B&H Photo or Amazon.com. They have to be earned the old fashioned way, with lots of thought, effort, and long term dedication (you know, that boring stuff). One thing's for certain; without the essential elements of creativity and vision, no amount of sophisticated gear will produce an end result that qualifies as art.

No Hands Bridge

The Mountain Quarries Railroad Bridge, more commonly known as the "No Hands Bridge", crosses the American River just downstream from the confluence of the North and Middle forks. It was originally built as part of the Pacific Portland Cement Company's 7-mile railroad that connected its limestone quarry in Cool with the Southern Pacific line in Auburn. At the time of its construction in 1912, the No Hands Bridge was the longest concrete arch bridge in the world.

Today, the No Hands Bridge is the oldest bridge still standing on the American River. It has withstood many flood events, including the 1964 failure of the Hell Hole Dam that took out two modern bridges upstream, and the Valentine’s Day flood of 1986 that destroyed a 250-foot coffer dam two miles downstream.

The colloquial name “No Hands Bridge” was coined in reference to equestrian Ina Robinson and her legendary stunt of dropping the reins as she rode across the guard rail-less bridge during the Tevis Cup Trail Ride, an equestrian race from Tahoe to Auburn. Guard rails have since been added to the bridge, but the "No Hands" moniker lives on in perpetuity.

The photo was taken from just downstream of the bridge, looking upstream toward the confluence. It was captured in late February (before the runoff), when the flows were relatively low and gentle. 

Seeing Beyond the Subject

Landscape photographs suffer the fate of being a close enough representation of reality that most viewers never get past the subject of the image to the physical reality of the photograph itself. There's the illusion of a physical location represented in a photograph, then there's the actual two-dimensional object (either a piece of paper coated with varying densities of silver or a projection on an electronic screen), with its own abstract shapes, patterns, textures, and tones. To fully appreciate and experience the entirety of a photograph, I believe we must see it on both levels; as an illusion that tells a story about some other time/place, and as a two-dimensional physical object that exists in the present, with its own reality (and value) separate from the subject it represents.

Time and Place

Naturally, when we think of landscape photography, we think of place. Places are our subjects, captured in fleeting moments for future viewing. The shutter clicks and a particular place at a particular time is frozen on the film or sensor. This is the essence of still photography. 

It is possible though, to record more than just place in a photo. With a tripod and shutter release, anywhere from a few seconds up to multiple hours of time can be captured within a single still image. 

Storm Over Seasonal Wetland (shown at right) is an example of a photograph that captures multiple minutes of time in a single frame. Here is the metadata associated with the photo:

  • Camera: Canon EOS 5D MK II

  • Lens: Canon EF17-40 mm f/4L

  • Focal Length: 17 mm

  • ISO: 50

  • Exposure: 179 seconds @ f/14

The camera was mounted on a sturdy tripod and the shutter was controlled manually using an intervalometer*. To lengthen the exposure time, the ISO was set at 50 and the lens was stopped down to f/14. To extend the exposure even further, a 10-stop neutral density filter** was placed on the lens, which took the exposure from 1/8 of a second out to nearly 180 seconds.

The result is a photograph in which the primary subject is time, not place. The movement in the clouds tells the story of the storm rolling in over time, an aspect of the landscape that would have been completely invisible using a conventional exposure. 

*An intervalometer is an electronic remote shutter release with a built-in self-timer, interval timer, and long-exposure timer. I use a Canon TC-80N3 that can be set anywhere from 1 second up to 100 hours.

**A neutral density filter (ND filter) is a middle gray filter placed on the front of a lens to reduce the amount of light that enters the lens. They are available in various degrees of density from light gray to almost black. The 10-stop filter I used on this image is designed to block 10 full stops of light. It is one of the darkest ND filters available.

500 Million to 1

According to Mary Meeker, we are collectively uploading over 500 million photos per day to various photo sharing and social media websites. That number looks to double within the next 12 months, which means that by this time next year we’ll be uploading over 1 billion photos per day, every day, until the Internet collapses under the weight of all that collective snapshooting.

Here's another mind-boggling statistic from Jonathan Good: 10% of the total photos ever snapped were taken within the past 12 months. I've seen graphs illustrating this acceleration, and the lines are trending toward straight up.

It makes you wonder who is looking at all of these photos and what’s behind this frenzy of image making. No one really knows for sure, but the assumption is that a large majority are snapshots taken with smartphones, and that a majority of the people who take the photos aren't "photographers" in the traditional sense of the word. Whether anyone is looking is an open question.

For the traditional semi-pro or pro landscape photographer, there is probably no sense in trying to stand out in this tsunami of online photo sharing. Even on more serious photo-centric sites such as 500px and Flickr, quiet and subtle photographs tend to get lost amongst the never-ending onslaught of flashy, eye-catching imagery. It now appears that attempting to build an audience by posting images to photo sharing and social media sites is only marginally effective at best, and perhaps even a distraction and waste of time at worst. 

So what to do for the budding fine art landscape photographer? I’d suggest what is a decidedly old school approach that involves building an audience locally, then slowly and steadily moving into regional competitions, national/international exhibitions, and eventually if all goes well, full gallery representation. It's a long road and a long shot, with no guarantee that one will ever arrive at their destination, but at least the odds are (possibly) better than 500 million to one.