This image is "made" by the two patches of bright colour in an otherwise fairly industrial looking environment : the canoe and the umbrella.
Two ways of enjoying a day in summer near the water. A fun image.
This image is "made" by the two patches of bright colour in an otherwise fairly industrial looking environment : the canoe and the umbrella.
Two ways of enjoying a day in summer near the water. A fun image.
This is a very neat abstract, almost hypnotizing.
I always love it when photographic tools are used in unexpected ways to create results that puzzle and dazzle at the same time.
(On a side note, let me tell you what your image reminded me of: it looked to me like somebody with a car with tires caked in chalk, had made beautiful patterns on smooth fresh black tarmac.)
I really like very selective focus in this kind of portrait, making the eyes stand out and DOF slowly going OOF already towards the mouth and ears.
I've made portraits like those with some very fast lenses, and also with a dirt cheap Lensbaby lens, which is kinda like your tilt/shift but yours is higher quality.
So you have a great tool here for making striking portraits.
Composition-wise, I am not the biggest fan of the photo shown here: it is very centered, but then the chin is chopped off. Because you used landscape orientation instead of portrait, that missing chin feels like an error more than a deliberate choice. Just not the greatest composition.
Sometimes, a crop can be used to remedy that. I've often had occasions where my in-camera composition was lacking (because I had cut off some part of something, especially after tilt correction which I often have to apply). And in most cases, taking the crop a step further, was an improvement.
In the case of this portrait, if it were mine, I would not hesitate to go totally overboard with deep cropping and focus on just part of the face: e.g. make the crop square to make the image less centered, and then crop even higher on the chin (maybe even just half the face) to make the composition look more deliberate.
Something like this maybe :
Enlarging this image, it becomes possible to appreciate the very intricate different textures of the structures.
The bird shows us an unusual pose, and am I correct in thinking that there is a shape stuck in his neck, like he has just caught a fish and is still in the process of swallowing it?
This is a wonderfully warped image and I am not even really sure what it is that we are looking at: the inside of some kind of silo maybe?
I'll look at other people's comments later and see what they think (if they write about that at all).
The colour scheme is excellent : the blue sky is a match made in heaven with bold orange.
The moon in the blue sky is almost too good to believe.
If you tell me that this is not a composite, then I would be wowed!
The shape of the blue sky patch with the moon is almost like an eye with iris looking down on us.
Very intriguing.
That is a great idea that I have seen applied for 3D works of art (like statues or buildings, with a smaller version that you are allowed to touch, and with braille caption), but not yet for 2D paintings. There's an artistry in itself in such an approach.
Your image presents us the actual artwork and the 3D representation together in a tight geometry.
Very nice, but something tells me that I would have liked it even better if you had a person in the frame doing some actual touching.
That sculpture is quite something. Apart from the repeated dark / light bands it is really disjoint. I actually wonder if the creator doesn't like bricks and was making a comment...
I do also like Andrew's brighter version.
But it is still a toss-up, because I also enjoy the bold shadows of the original.
Tough decision for me.
Because I have spent the past three years in a small forum that is all about playing in the digital darkroom, I didn't think to mention here that my Escape Hatch is a highly manipulated creation from two photographs. Folks, please let me know if I should provide information upfront if I share another that is not reality. The last thing I want is for you to feel deceived!
The scene was apple-picking ladders leaning against a metal shed. I'm attaching a jpg of the original raw file; it is not a "finished" product in any way. The moon is a shot from my own library of skies, clouds and moons.
The sleek forms of these purely-for-function commercial orchard ladders have appealed to me for years, and I have photographed their real-life purpose often.
This time I was exploring different ways to use the lines, forms and shadows and liked this tightly packed circular look that leads to the tiny exit at the top. My idea to place the moon as the destination came last in the process. I think I've mentioned that I often don't fully form an idea before starting to play, but kind of make it up as I go along. I very much enjoy the process.
I'm so grateful for your interest and comments!
@JimKasson has written:That is a remarkable image! The way you positioned the moon is great.
@ChrisOly has written:Brilliant capture. Love all the components you have managed to include in this shot.
@19andrew47 has written:The embeded image is full of artifacts which spoil its look but when viewed full size it displays in all is glory! An exceptional image!
Andrew @MikeFewster has written:This is so good Linda. The multiple lines that hone in on the surprise, the moon. The blue/brick red contrast. The combination of the ladders with their shadows. The lower right hand with the distortion that spans the corner. Impact after impact but all of it directing to the moon.
Once that has sunk in, we have to try to figure out what it is. I think we are in a grain silo.
Outstanding shot.
Thank you for showing us the raw material from which you crafted the warped mystery.
You had both Mike and me fooled, into thinking we were inside a silo.
Obviously, your title plays a big part in that wonderful deception : "escape" implies enclosure.
Very creative image-making, that is for sure.
@LindaS has written:Happy surprises, such as I still find with textures and blend modes, are a big part of my joy of the hobby
D'accord. Reminds me of something I wrote a while back:
I live near Carmel, California. The photographic history of this place is freighted with an approach to image-making called previsualization. Ansel Adams wrote about visualization, which he defined as “the ability to anticipate a finished image before making the exposure”. Minor White later distinguished between what he called “pre-visualization”, or visualization before the negative is exposed, and “post-visualization”, which occurs during ensuing processing. I’ll use White’s terminology here.
Previsualization is an ethos so much a part of the local photographic community that it seems heretical of me to question it, but that’s what I’m going to do in this article. Some previsualization is absolutely necessary for all photographers. However, it’s something I resist taking very far in my own work. I have my reasons, and some of them may apply to you.
Although I may be an outlier, I’m not alone. In 2001, when I interviewed Michael Kenna for the CPA newsletter Focus, he said: “One of the joys of night photography is that you can’t completely control it. I like to do eight hour exposures — just leave the shutter open, and see what happens. Fog moves in; clouds come and go; condensation might appear on the lens; the unexpected and unpredictable happens. I love that. One of the reasons I first did night photography was that I got a bit bored with previsualization. In the daytime, if you’re a reasonably competent photographer, there’s no reason you can’t get exactly what you see. I started making very long exposures and working at night in part to get some unpredictability back.”
Henri Cartier-Bresson talked about looking for, and finding “the decisive moment”. I imagined that his contact sheets were populated by individual images carefully chosen in time. Imagine my surprise when I got to see many of his contact sheets at the ICP museum in New York City. In one respect, his contact sheets looked a lot like mine: finding a likely spot, exploring a few ways of dealing with it, running into some dead ends, finding something that works, and either making two or three quick exposures and moving on or making several exposures with essentially the same framing while waiting for people to arrange themselves. (I’m not claiming that my contact sheets look like Cartier-Bresson’s in any larger sense, although I wish they did). The contact sheets tell the story of a photographer working out the possibilities while making images, rather than sitting back and contemplating until the image is complete in his head before tripping the shutter.
In 1980, Lustrum Press published a book called Contact: Theory, which, for forty-odd photographers, presents a well-known photograph, the contact sheet from which the negative was picked, and an explanation by the photographer of the thinking involved in the selection. By looking at the contact sheets, you’ll see how the photographers get to their images. You’ll see some approaches similar to Cartier-Bresson’s. You’ll see many other techniques. You’ll see things that didn’t work. You’ll see some photographic narration. You won’t see any perfect images unrelated to the others on the sheet.
I’m not against all previsualization. Without it, we wouldn’t need to focus or set the exposure. We wouldn’t need viewfinders. We would point the camera in random directions, trip the shutter at random times, and pore through the results later, like looking for Shakespearian nuggets in the output of a million monkeys with a million typewriters.
Heavily emphasizing previsualization doesn’t work for me. If you are a devotee, ask yourself if too much previsualization is damaging your photography. It may be that it isn’t, and previsualization fits your photographic style perfectly. If that’s the case, by all means go ahead and plan the heck out of your pictures. If, however, you’ve bought the whole program without thinking about it too hard, you may want to back off.
For many, previsualization starts with envisioning just the way the tonality of the actual scene will map to the tones in the final print before tripping the shutter. Ansel Adams’ Zone System is an orderly approach to both looking at the scene while thinking tonality and making the pre-exposure vision a reality. In moderation, I see nothing wrong with this. The mapping will take place whether the photographer thinks about it or not, and it’s a good thing if the tone mapping fits the photographer’s intentions for the image.
When tone mapping the main thing the photographer thinks about, it’s a distraction. I’ve watched people meter everything under the sun and some things in the shade while the magic light faded to ordinary, and heard people talk about agitation for N-2 development when it was obvious that the esthetics of their pictures needed more work than their technique. In most circles today, such talk has been replaced by ETTR discussions and the like. The technology changes, but the emphasis of the susceptible remains the same.
The purpose of exposure (and negative development, if we’re talking film) is twofold: to maximize the signal to noise ratio in the final print (think of film grain as noise), and to make sure that important tones at the extremes are not robbed of detail. Modern negative films are so capable in both grain and dynamic range that, for most subject matter, you can be a little off in exposure or development and not affect the final result in any meaningful way. Modern, large sensor digital cameras have analogous capability. If you allow yourself a third or two-thirds of a stop error rather than embracing the task of getting it bang on, exposure for most scenes turns from scratch-your-head-for-five-minutes hard to falling-off-a-log simple. All the time and attention you’ve gained can be put into the esthetics of the image.
Another element of previsualization is finding a framing that works visually and expresses your intent. Thinking hard about the edges of the frame before the exposure is a good thing. You have options before you trip the shutter that are unavailable later; you can move forward or backward to change the perspective, you can change lens focal length, and you can move from side to side and affect the relationship of objects in the image. It is natural to use the whole format; you can see the result in the finder or on the ground glass, and you usually get the highest image quality.
However, filling the frame can become a photographic fetish. In the eighties and nineties it was fashionable to prove that you hadn’t cropped your images by filing out your negative carrier and printing sprocket holes, frame numbers, shadows of film hold-downs, Polaroid 55P/N matrices, or the twin Hasselblad tick marks. It was a powerful movement, and I admit that I was an occasional practitioner, but it was essentially an affectation, and one that drew the viewer’s attention from the image itself. Having a laser focus on cropping in the camera to the native shape can close you off to possibilities that might be better. Why should the best composition for any subject be of the aspect ratio of the camera that you happen to have at hand?
Photography, like any art, improves with experimentation. Great photographs don’t usually come about as the result of extended navel-gazing sessions, but as the result of trying something, having it kind of work, making it better, exploring blind alleys, honing away unnecessary elements, and finally arriving at something worthwhile. The result of an experiment is, by definition, unknown. Therefore the result can’t be previsualized. Therefore previsualization and experimentation are incompatible. Too much emphasis on previsualization discourages experimentation.
For me, there’s an element of play in making photographs. I can’t make the case as logically as I did in the preceding paragraph, but I find that emphasis on previsualization diminishes playfulness. Trying to tie down all the options and leave nothing to chance sets up a frame of mind for me that makes it hard to be light, be open, and go with where the subject leads me.
Some of you may be saying: “There’s no conflict here; the Zone System is based upon controlled experimentation – that’s how you decide on your film speeds and your development times.” You’re right about that. However, Zone System adherents are either testing or making images. I am arguing for more fluidity – getting to a place where there’s no clear dividing line between experimenting (playing, if you will) and doing serious work.
When I see the work of photographers who talk a lot about previsualization, I see, for each one, a fairly narrow range of subject matter, and a similarly limited range of approach. The images usually have high technical quality. If you’re intent on previsualizing the result, you’re not going to search out situations that are so different from what you’re previously encountered that you don’t know what the final image will look like. If you’ve developed techniques for dealing with photographic problems you’re going to use those techniques because you know how they work. Gallery owners will love you, because they value predictability, but there will be many roads not taken.
Previsualization assumes follow-through. If you have an image in your mind when you release the shutter, and in processing the image you change your mind and take it somewhere else, that has to count as a failed previsualization. It may not be a failure as a photograph, however. We are fortunate to have examples of Ansel Adams prints from the same negatives made many years apart, and we are able to see evolution in the way the images are printed. To the degree that previsualization was involved in creating the negatives, the earlier prints must be closer to Adams’ pre-exposure vision. Does that make the later prints bad? Of course not. Just not previsualized.
What’s it look like to let go of previsualization? Here’s a case study. Several years ago, Charles Cramer got interested in taking pictures of waves. In this project, he made over a thousand medium format digital captures on one weeklong trip to Hawaii, varying location, framing, and shutter speed. To create this image, Charlie found a nice arrangement of rocks, and maintained that position for 20-30 exposures, because, as he says, “Each resulting image (with the exception of the rocks) was completely different! For the series I used exposure times of around 1/2 second, and waited until the wave started to recede. It’s quite a lovely surprise to see each exposure on my camera LCD, as you never quite know how it’s going to look. I felt like the waves were performing for me, assuming different shapes and colors for each exposure.”
I often employ a photographic approach opposite previsualization: I actually want to be surprised by some aspect of the image captured during the exposure. I create photographic series that make surprises likely, even unavoidable. I love doing this. I’m so excited about seeing what happened when I get to image editing. Over time, as – through the unavoidable process of learning – the results get more predictable, I start looking for a new project. I don’t do this kind of photography exclusively; I can be as calculating as I need to be in some circumstances. However, if all my photographs were heavily previsualized, my photographic world would be a colder, sadder, less playful place.
It may look to you that I am rejecting craft in photography. That’s not my intent; I’m just suggesting that your photography may improve if you don’t hold on to the craft too tightly. Don’t spend all your energy forcing your vision on the world; the world has much to teach you if you’ll let it.
Jim,
Thank you for these great thoughts: it is almost an essay (well, delete the "almost").
On your words about HCB, contact sheets and the footwork that good photographers do to explore a scene, allow me to point you in the direction of a favourite book : it is the "Magnum Contact Sheets" book, and it illustrates exactly what you also describe : the exploration of a given scene (often static, sometimes even a dynamic scene but then the photographer must think, move and work fast!).
And I was pleased to read that there are also HCB contact sheets that can be admired in some place.
In the book I mentioned, HCB is represented not with a true contact sheet, but with one of his own collages of images.
I understood from the book that HCB had a habit of destroying the bad shots from a roll of film and keeping only the good ones.
I always figured that this was related to his theory of the "decision moment" and more specifically, to maintain his own myth that he was the master of capturing those moments (and not the lesser moments before and after that).
"Hate to eat and run, but I gotta go now..."
I get fascinated with the shapes and tones beneath the dam.
Another interesting capture in the dam birds series. I like the different shapes and the almost black cube at the back, with it's own little waterfall. The bird speaks for itself.
I really like very selective focus in this kind of portrait, making the eyes stand out and DOF slowly going OOF already towards the mouth and ears.
I've made portraits like those with some very fast lenses, and also with a dirt cheap Lensbaby lens, which is kinda like your tilt/shift but yours is higher quality.So you have a great tool here for making striking portraits.
Composition-wise, I am not the biggest fan of the photo shown here: it is very centered, but then the chin is chopped off. Because you used landscape orientation instead of portrait, that missing chin feels like an error more than a deliberate choice. Just not the greatest composition.
Sometimes, a crop can be used to remedy that. I've often had occasions where my in-camera composition was lacking (because I had cut off some part of something, especially after tilt correction which I often have to apply). And in most cases, taking the crop a step further, was an improvement.In the case of this portrait, if it were mine, I would not hesitate to go totally overboard with deep cropping and focus on just part of the face: e.g. make the crop square to make the image less centered, and then crop even higher on the chin (maybe even just half the face) to make the composition look more deliberate.
Something like this maybe :
Thanks you so much! That‘s a great suggestion. And you‘re right: it‘s challenging getting it right in camera with tilt + focusing on the right thing, so I probably shouldn‘t hesitate to get further away and then crop… feel like that would give me more to play around with. I think your crop works well - thanks!
If I would take a shot of someone else, I would have to consider a couple of additional things also, particularly the surroundings.
Having a short conversation with @JonesLongshot about his excellent portraits (joneshendershot.com/) in the Adapted Lens Subforum reminded me how important that aspect can be…
"Hate to eat and run, but I gotta go now..."
I get fascinated with the shapes and tones beneath the dam.
A wonderful shot! The shape of that bird in flight is pretty incredible - it almost feels like some sort of symbol or letter on the dark background. I‘m starting to get your fascination with the dam and the birds - excellent work!
@LindaS has written:Because I have spent the past three years in a small forum that is all about playing in the digital darkroom, I didn't think to mention here that my Escape Hatch is a highly manipulated creation from two photographs. Folks, please let me know if I should provide information upfront if I share another that is not reality. The last thing I want is for you to feel deceived!
The scene was apple-picking ladders leaning against a metal shed. I'm attaching a jpg of the original raw file; it is not a "finished" product in any way. The moon is a shot from my own library of skies, clouds and moons.
The sleek forms of these purely-for-function commercial orchard ladders have appealed to me for years, and I have photographed their real-life purpose often.
This time I was exploring different ways to use the lines, forms and shadows and liked this tightly packed circular look that leads to the tiny exit at the top. My idea to place the moon as the destination came last in the process. I think I've mentioned that I often don't fully form an idea before starting to play, but kind of make it up as I go along. I very much enjoy the process.
Thank you for showing us the raw material from which you crafted the warped mystery.
You had both Mike and me fooled, into thinking we were inside a silo.
Obviously, your title plays a big part in that wonderful deception : "escape" implies enclosure.
Very creative image-making, that is for sure.
Got to agree with everyone else here - truly inspiring seeing what you were able to create with this shot. It takes a creative mind to come up with that and I feel like it works perfectly as intended!
@RoelHendrickx has written:I really like very selective focus in this kind of portrait, making the eyes stand out and DOF slowly going OOF already towards the mouth and ears.
I've made portraits like those with some very fast lenses, and also with a dirt cheap Lensbaby lens, which is kinda like your tilt/shift but yours is higher quality.So you have a great tool here for making striking portraits.
Composition-wise, I am not the biggest fan of the photo shown here: it is very centered, but then the chin is chopped off. Because you used landscape orientation instead of portrait, that missing chin feels like an error more than a deliberate choice. Just not the greatest composition.
Sometimes, a crop can be used to remedy that. I've often had occasions where my in-camera composition was lacking (because I had cut off some part of something, especially after tilt correction which I often have to apply). And in most cases, taking the crop a step further, was an improvement.In the case of this portrait, if it were mine, I would not hesitate to go totally overboard with deep cropping and focus on just part of the face: e.g. make the crop square to make the image less centered, and then crop even higher on the chin (maybe even just half the face) to make the composition look more deliberate.
Something like this maybe :
Thanks you so much! That‘s a great suggestion. And you‘re right: it‘s challenging getting it right in camera with tilt + focusing on the right thing, so I probably shouldn‘t hesitate to get further away and then crop… feel like that would give me more to play around with. I think your crop works well - thanks!
If I would take a shot of someone else, I would have to consider a couple of additional things also, particularly the surroundings.
Having a short conversation with @JonesLongshot about his excellent portraits (joneshendershot.com/) in the Adapted Lens Subforum reminded me how important that aspect can be…
I like the crop and the thinking behind it.
@LindaS has written:Folks, please let me know if I should provide information upfront if I share another that is not reality. The last thing I want is for you to feel deceived!
As long as it ain't AI, I assume everyone manipulates their photos in some manner. I don't feel deceived. It's a relief to know this wasn't somehow done in camera. Cause now I don't have to keep randomly thinking, "how in the world did they make that shot happen."
Still, a good magician should not reveal their secrets for free.
@LindaS has written:This is an interesting and intriguing picture that I wondered how you arrived at it ..... until you explained .... Living in a city where the engineers are responsible for the engine used to get to the moon earlier and in a few years this has some interesting interpretations for me ... Still an interesting artistic design and interpretation of the scene .... I like to say that the digital file is the sketch and the post is the final picture but I've never wandered over here ....
This is one of those wonderful and creative images whose charm is hard to put into words. It breaks lots of rules and doesn't adhere to any particular formula for photographic success, yet we know as soon as we look at it that it works. So I fumble for ways to say why. The complementary colors work. The geometry works. The contrast of light and shadow works. The abbreviated fibonacci spiral works. The fractal-ish look works. It deserves to be displayed. But the image is more than the sum of its parts and it is as joyful as the fun you had in making it, something I understand because the only reason I do photography is for the fun of playing with the pixels I harvest.
Thanks for sharing the steps you took in making it.
I had no idea. To me it looked like the emergency outlet in a grain silo. People can drown in the grain in those things.
I agree with (I think it was Open Cube) that a magician doesn't have to reveal their tricks. Seeing what Linda began with in building this image gives me nearly as much awe as the image itself however.
Thank you for showing us the raw material from which you crafted the warped mystery. You had both Mike and me fooled into thinking we were inside a silo. Obviously, your title plays a big part in that wonderful deception : "escape" implies enclosure.
Very creative image-making, that is for sure.
Got to agree with everyone else here - truly inspiring seeing what you were able to create with this shot. It takes a creative mind to come up with that and I feel like it works perfectly as intended!
I'm very grateful for the interest and time you all have shared with me! I continue to learn and be inspired by your work, but most especially your feedback on everyone's photos (I read all of it!). I will definitely keep in mind the advice about magicians and their secrets 😁
Harbor activity created by blobs and reflections.
I really like the colours with their reflections in this shot. Also the overlapping circles providing venn diagram like additive areas. Is it correct to refer to it as bokeh? It suggests a quiet, calm evening - taking in the sounds of the waterfront.
Escape Hatch
I was wondering if it was taken with a fisheye. The cues of container ribs are there but the illusion of a silo cone or similar overrides them. But then the ladder shadows cast doubt as what it actually is. I'm glad you explained it. I wonder if the software could make a circle at the top...