What Is This, Why Is This?

Morning Snowfall

I read a ton of articles on photography, at least 5 or 6 a day.  All of them are written by what appears to be professionals or semi professionals who have, I think, been doing this a heck of a lot longer than I have.  The subjects are usually technique or tech based.  With the internet, we no longer have to have a one on one lesson or take a class or even read a book about how to operate a camera properly, or use off camera lighting, or whatever.  Everything is right there in videos or 6 paragraph blurbs.  It's great.  Except that it kinda isn't.  I have been having the feeling in the back of my mind that I've been missing something about photography.  It wasn't comprehension on the technicalities and it certainly wasn't to do with the love of taking photographs.  I just had this suspicion that I had skipped over something vital in my journey of learning and falling in love with the art.  There are tons of things out there about how to use a camera, or set up a shot, or edit it, or sell it, or sell yourself, but all that stuff started to seem superfluous.  There had to more to photography than f-stops, the rule of thirds, and Lightroom presets.  Photography has been around since the 1830's in one form or another, and what we have now is a descendent of those earlier endeavors.  Today everything is focused on tech and technique, but very few people even think about the actual images.  Now it's all about pixels, and sharpness, and bokeh, and chromatic aberration.

But a perfect technical image isn't necessarily as pleasing as one that is blurred and grainy.  Why?  What makes one photograph impactful, while another is just a blah entry into the over saturated catalogue floating around out there?  Then I realized what was missing.  Nearly all of us who are out shooting today, who came to photography well after the digital revolution, who learned about it online in blogs, and forums, and just basic shooting were missing a huge slice of the field- the soul, the heritage, the intimate knowledge and comprehension of what photography is.  Today, so many people discover the love shooting and jump into the field as a professional or semi professional without ever educating themselves about photography itself.  How many enthusiasts out there who shoot their friends' weddings or sell calendars (like myself) have a library of photography publications?  Could they look to the photography of the past and see its value?  Or is it just like everything else, and no one gives a second thought to the past?

But, I think knowledge of what came before is vital to understanding and improving what we do, be it photography, or creative writing, or design.  Would someone who wants to write novels seriously jump in without ever introducing themselves to the greats- Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Morrison, Steinbeck, Joyce?  I certainly hope not.  Then, why do those of us who pick up a camera with some semblance of seriousness, not honor photography in the same way?  We know a novel is good or bad because we've read a good one before.  Photography, of course, has a more personal effect on us, as other art forms do, but still we know a good photograph from a bad one.  The trouble is, it seems, a lot of us don't know why it is good.  I think that is because we jump in feet first and start snapping away and never get around to educating ourselves about anything beyond sensor sizes and flash settings.  Why?  I don't really know.  Maybe it is because we can learn anything on the internet, or because this world we live in is in such a rush, or because smartphones have caused photography to be so accessible that it has become banal.  Maybe we leap too soon because we get some good feedback and encouragement and our social media culture almost demands that we market ourselves and do so quickly.

I look at a ton of photographs everyday, hundreds.  I scroll through the Instagram feed a couple times a day because I genuinely love looking at images, but I start to see in the end the same photography over and over and over again.  Ok, it's not the same photograph exactly, but it is basically the same extrapolation of an image.  Commercial portraits of newlyweds, or engagements, or kids are usually done in natural light, usually in golden hour, someone must be wearing flannel, and it's all about the bokeh.  Studio photographers perhaps in the response to the hipster outdoor look respond, it seems, by taking on a harsher look with more dramatic lighting.  Landscape photographers have started to add people into their shots, usually dead center and shot from behind.  Starfield shots now all seem to have someone in them lining their flashlight up with the Milky Way.  Long exposures (an admitted favorite of mine) have been around for a while, but are certainly making a strong resurgence.  Then of course, there are the trends in post, thanks to Instagram.  Split toning is back, and so is the film look (oh the irony).  I'm not saying these images or trends are bad, in fact they are very effective.  But, I've begun to ask myself if we're all just shooting like this for marketing, the fine art photographer becoming just as commercial as the commercial photographer?  Maybe we're all just copying each other because someone somewhere said this or that makes a good photograph, but the rest of us, the rabble, don't know who it was or why they said it.  Maybe if we looked back, before digital and smartphones, and the internet, when photographers used simpler, yet more finicky technology, when their goal was a great image, not the camera, not themselves, we can fathom the complexities and the essence of photography itself.  Then maybe, just maybe, we can see the world as photographers should and create impactful, authentic, and unique images all our own.

One of the articles I read was about what a photographer (Carla Coulson) would tell themselves if they could go back in time before they started their business.  This grabbed my attention, because I suspected it would touch on some of these questions I was currently having.  Sure enough, it did.  Nearly everything she brought up- letting your creativity breathe, taking time to learn and build the portfolio for a long a while before putting pressure on yourself to make money-  is exactly what I was thinking.  Photography, like anything else, needs to be understood and learned over time, patiently and carefully.  It should be cultivated.  If we are going to subscribe to this field and call ourselves photographers, we should be willing to take the time to do that.

For me, part of that process is really delving into the heritage of photography, immersing myself in great images of the print era so I can learn more about what makes a photograph truly great.  I also have decided to learn the theory behind photography, so that means reading a lot of books.  Lastly, it means going to see great photography, not just scrolling through Instagram.  Sure there are great images on there, but there  many more great and far more significant images hanging on gallery walls, in exhibitions, and in museums.  I want to learn more about the field than the tech, I want to get to know its soul.  If that helps improve my work along the way, even better!

The Orchard

Misadventures in Wallonia

So, last weekend we drove over to Belgium to celebrate the Valentines holiday (it's not really observed in Germany) and pick up some of Belgium's finest beer (also not celebrated in Germany as a rule).  But, because it is Belgium one must always expect things to go a bit awry.  The weather is the biggest factor which affects whether things go well or, um, go differently.  Belgian weather, either Walloon or Flemish, is notorious.  With that in mind, it seemed like this little jaunt was the perfect time to test a  XF 16-55mm f/2.8 R LM WR lens.  This is the only piece of Fuji gear I wanted to add to the kit this year.  A weather resistant camera is all well and good, but without a weather sealed lens, it's still a vulnerable setup.  With the trip to Iceland fast approaching it was time to fill in this last hole and a weekend in Belgium seemed like the perfect test.

The XF 16-55mm f/2.8 R LM WR is a really cool lens.  It's hefty, for sure, but with its nice range, it's difficult to argue for another lens in the bag anyway.  For a trip that mostly focuses on landscapes 16-55mm is all that's needed and if those landscapes are prone to cold and moisture, weather sealing is a must.  So, I stuck the X-T1 with the new lens in the bag and the  XF 55-200mm f/3.5-4.8 R LM OIS

just in case something specific in the landscape caught the eye.  

Well, all good plans of mice and photographers... Enter Belgium.  Now, we spent two years living down the road from the Ardennes.  Its fickle weather puts the weather of other places to shame.  Seriously, people from just about everywhere say "if you don't like the weather here, wait five minutes."  In Belgium, you not only need wait, but you can also drive 3 kilometers and be in a completely different situation.   

It all started out well enough.  We crossed the border into Belgium around lunch on Saturday after a very brief pause in Luxembourg to do some shopping (it's the only place I've been able to find molasses).  As we crossed into Wallonia the weather took an immediate dive into the worst.  Rolling over the hills of the Ardennes, we passed from pouring rain into sleet and then full blown snow and then back through the previous two when we'd lose elevation.  It was all very Belgian and authentic, but unfortunately far too blustery to photograph, the only reason being that we couldn't see a darn thing.  

Reprieve From the Toils Courtesy Handpresso

And, of course, being Belgium, it was no surprise to discover when we pulled into our beer shop's parking lot that they had shut for the week.  So, no crafts beer for us.  Sigh.  With nothing else to do, we headed on to our final destination for the weekend, the hunting town of Saint-Hubert.  The weather was getting progressively worse so we brainstormed on how we could salvage the errand.  Instead of setting up for wide landscapes of the Ardennes (which didn't appear to be present anymore) I was shooting close ups of our espressos on the dashboard as we paused at a rest stop.  I'm happy to report the new lens performs admirably in these conditions.  We opted to stop at the next Delhaize supermarket we came across to pick up a case of whatever unique beers they might have on hand.  That was quite the experience, the story of which I'll spare you at this time.  The feeling of trepidation rose the closer we came to Saint-Hubert.  While we weren't concerned about our dinner that evening (our favorite restaurant of all time never disappoints), the fact that we were forced to book a different hotel was starting to cause us some concern.

One of the hotel's finer specimens

Folks, you should always trust your gut.  I can't quite put my finger on the feeling we had when we stepped over the threshold of the "hotel" we had booked for the evening as it was a cross between amusement and horror.  You know that scene in Psycho (1960, or course) when Norman is talking to Marion Crane in his office and there's all these horrible taxidermy sculptures(?) all over the room?  Well, when production wrapped, I'm pretty sure the lot of stuffed animals was sold to the proprietor of this hotel where they have hung or sat on shelves ever since (never having been dusted or preserved in any way).  The fur was eaten away by time and whatever creatures eat dead animal fur, feathers were missing, the plastic eyes had fallen out or were positioned at disturbing angles.  The first of these horrors was a snarling fox that had been positioned in an anthropomorphic position that included a walking stick.  Stepping into the office we discovered more moth-eaten terrors and what seemed to be a hoarder's den.  Tools, magazines, books, papers, and Lord knows what were piled on every imaginable surface and some unimaginable ones.  It looks like most had been sitting there since the Reagan era.  This did not bode well, my friends, and the situation did not improve when we met the proprietor.  By all appearances "The Hotel By The Abbey" is operated by a boy of about 12 years of age.  He was very professional, despite his sweatpants and Crocs, and patient with our dusty French.  He gave us the key to room 11 and instructed us that any further questions should be directed at his Papa, who for all we knew was the lone patron at the restaurant.  Then the boy went back to tending the bar, yes, tending the bar.  As you can imagine Room 11 wasn't any better than the rest of the establishment.  Smokers could get all the nicotine they needed from the hazy atmosphere.  Something green and slimy that I believe guest starred in an episode of the X-Files (original run, of course) had taken up residence in the shower.  The bathroom was outfitted with fixtures and accessories one normally finds in a public restroom, complete with supplied sanitary paper for the toilet seat.  I half expected to find a condom dispenser hung inside the door.  By the way, every guest room in this hotel was equipped with a small orange light over the door that could be switched on from the inside.  Interpret that as you will.  Anyway...the long and short of it is, we were stuck.  There wasn't another available room in town and the only hotel with a free room was 15mi away.  This was just going to have to be something to laugh about in the future...if we made it to morning.  We deposited our locked suitcase in the room (and nothing else), stepped out our door and over the stain which suspiciously looked like evidence of the expiration of some poor guest or perhaps one of the moldering creatures on the wall, and headed back out into the gale.  Anything was better than this hotel.

We jumped back in the car and desperately drove around the countryside hoping the weather would clear or at the very least calm down enough to see the countryside.  No dice.  We had to accept defeat and return to blighted Saint-Hubert (for my Ohio readers, think Warren).  The only option left to us was a pub.  Now, if Wallonia is struggling in everything else, there is one thing you can always count on being reliable, albeit with the potential for mild creepiness. That is the pub.  Saint-Hubert is well supplied.  We opted for The Miami as it wasn't full of grumpy old men or seedy young ones and settled down for a nice session with some dearly missed Trappist Ales.  The great and wonderful thing about Belgium is that nearly every pub has Trappist beers on the list.  Things could definitely be worse.  These couple hours at the pub were the only time I decided to take out my camera on the trip, and you know what?  I'm totally ok with that.  The pub was by no means full, so it also provided the chance to test the updated Fujifilm remote camera app and the electronic shutter.  Fujifilm finally updated their remote app when they announced the X-Pro2 last month and for the first time I was able to get it to work.  Let me tell you, that app paired with the electronic shutter makes for a perfect clandestine operation (PIs, take note).  Leave the camera on a table and operate it with your phone, and no one will be the wiser.  In a quiet environment like a nearly empty pub, this is certainly a helpful set up.

Regulars at The Miami
Camera: X-T1 Focal Length: 50mm Exposure: 1/60, f/2.8, ISO4000

Pinball and Orval
Camera: X-T1 Focal Length: 16mm Exposure: 1/8, f/3.6, ISO4000

After we finished our beers (Rochefort 8) we could finally head to the restaurant for dinner.  Things certainly improved when we stepped in the door of L' Ancien Hopital and before long the woes of the day were fading away.  There is no better balm for a disappointing trip than a fantastic meal.  It made up for the lack of craft beer in the trunk, the hour lost at Delhaize, the wretched weather, the taxidermy creatures and cigarette smoke, and the complete lack of photos on my card.

The next morning, we tipped our hats to Wallonia and headed home.  The weather was still the same and we were exhausted.  Sometimes things go wrong and plans fall apart.  That's ok.  That's totally ok.  I'm just relieved we survived that horrid hotel.

To Those Who Stand With Us

Surrounded
Camera: X-E2 Focal Length: 15mm Exposure: 1/250, f/5, ISO800

Most of the time when talking about photography, or any art form for that matter, we focus on technique and the tools of the trade.  Photographers in particular love talking gear, especially since there's a new camera or accessory hitting the market every couple of days.  Then, of course, talking about technique and tips are other favorite topics of conversation or articles.  But, there is one area we often overlook, and that's a shame.

One of the most important aspects of pursuing an art, whether it's photography or something else, is feeling free to do so.  I don't mean freedom in regards to time or resources.  What I'm referring to is the peace of mind that allows us create.  Unfortunately, not everyone has that freedom.  There is nothing worse then being compelled to create, but not having the support from those around us to pursue our creativity.  Instead of encouragement and positive or constructive feedback, the process and efforts are degraded or trivialized. When that happens, the act of creating becomes excruciating and our works are soulless shadows of the original visions that we can't even see clearly anymore.  In the end we put away the clay, the brush, the pen, or the camera and when we look back upon our art it is viewed as a passing fancy, or worse, with regret.  I'm not sure if people realize how important they are to the creatives in their lives.  Our ability to create something stems directly from where our heads are at.  Let's face it, the people that surround us have a great deal to with that.

So, to all of those partners, friends, spouses, and family members who stand behind their creative, thank you!  Thank you for letting us ramble on about the next project, our worries, and the pros and cons of some bit of gear.  Thank you for understanding that we're not in it for the money, but because it's who we are.  Thank you for not trying to convince us that we should be in it for the money.  Thank you for not insulting us by equaling sales or social media likes with success .  Thank you for not nagging us about missed meals or weekends away because we were working.  Thank you for not demeaning our work by demanding that your schedule is more important than "our hobby."  Thank you for allowing us to lock ourselves in our office or studio for days on end while we're on a roll.  Thank you for looking past our clutter of gear, tools, papers, and books.  Thank you for not sighing with disapproval when we need to pick something up at the supply store or camera shop.  Thank you for not voicing impatience when we stop for the 100th time on a walk to we can get another shot.  Thank you for not insisting that we have enough shots.  Thank you for not throwing a tantrum when we need to chase the light or stand in the same spot for a long time while we wait for it.  In short, thank you for your time, your support, your smiles, your understanding, and, most importantly, your love.  It all means more to us than you could possibly know.  We wouldn't be able to be who we are without you.

If you're a creative and there are people in your life who stand with you and thus bestow that peace of mind which allows you to pursue your art with freedom, make sure you thank them.  You owe them quite a lot.