Shooting Iceland Part III

I didn't know what to expect from Reykjavik.  We had spent about 4 waking hours in the city before we headed out into the countryside on that bus.  I did a little research on some possible shooting locations, but didn't turn up too many that caught my attention.  Everyone said you needed to climb the Hallgrímskirkja, but we've climbed a lot of church towers and I wasn't feeling it.  What did catch my attention was the Sun Voyager sculpture (above) on the walkway near the Harpa Concert Hall and which faces the bay and Mt. Esja.  When we set out to shoot around the city on our third day, it was an incredibly cold morning, but the light looked like it was going to be magic.  We walked through several construction sites (Reykjavik is in the midst of a building boom) to arrive at the sculpture.  The light was just getting good and we weren't the only ones set up at the location.  There's something about this sculpture, the material, the design, the way it catches the reflection of the sky underneath.  Most people think it represents a Viking ship (the iconic symbol of Iceland's settlers), but the artist, Jón Gunnar Árnason, was thinking of a ship that transports souls, not settlers.  He died of leukemia a year before the sculpture was put in place.  With the cement buildings, construction zones, and traffic behind you and nothing but the mountain, the sky, and the sea before you, it's a spot that removes you to a different time and different state of mind.  It is one of the most photographed locations in the city, so it was no surprise we weren't alone.  What was surprising, was that everyone who was there was particularly friendly that cold morning.  Normally, when I show up at a spot or am joined by someone else with a tripod, I'm lucky to get a greeting or acknowledgement to my greeting.  Maybe it's because I'm a woman and they're always men, maybe it's a territorial thing.  I don't know.  It's weird, kinda like cyclists who won't respond to a greeting on the road.  So, imagine my surprise when we had several really nice chats with multiple photographers at the sculpture.  It was a nice start to Easter Sunday (which finished perfectly with the aurora that I covered last week).  Like I said, the Sun Voyager is a special spot.

The rest of the day we wandered the streets of the mostly shut city and popped into the few places that were open on the holiday.  We discovered a city of uncommon vibrance and vitality, emerging from rotten concrete and construction sites.  Iceland's history is mostly a tale of a country and economy that could barely stay afloat.  Its capital, the highest populated region of the country, is a city that until recently has struggled.  You can still see the wear and tear of that on the face of the buildings.  But, it's coming around.  It's a city of art galleries, boutiques, cafes, restaurants, night life, and, well, great paint work.  They've painted every surface possible with incredible street art.  In a place where Winter daylight lasts about 5 hours, all this color, I imagine, helps hold back some darkness.  In many ways, Reykjavik reminded me of our hometown of Akron, OH.  It also has had a long, hard road, but in pockets here and there it is coming alive again.

On a normal day when the businesses are in full swing, I think this would be a great city to spend a lot of time in.  Oh, and I'm 100% certain Reykjavik has the coolest cathedral in existence.  Hallgrímskirkja is absolutely massive and dominates the city's skyline.  It doesn't look like it even belongs there, sitting next to all the graffiti covered, crackling buildings.  The design hearkens to the basalt formations found throughout the landscape.  It was the last thing I photographed in the city.  The night was incredibly cold, of course, so there weren't too many people out.  I decided to go for a classic head on composition because the building demanded it.  I also decided to shape the color and vibrance more brilliantly than I normally do.  When we were standing there, I was struck by the modernity and stark whiteness of the structure in contrast with the blue of the sky.  A little purple hinted through the clouds as twilight set in.  It, like the Sun Sculpture, was a magic, evocative location and I wanted to bring out that feeling by lifting the intensity of the image.

Our last day in Iceland was spent back in the countryside on another guided tour.  We were late enough in the season that the tours to the natural ice caves were no longer going on.  However, in 2015 a new ice centric attraction was opened that was still available.  It's a gimmick, for sure, but the man-made ice tunnel into the Langjökull allows people to see the ice of a glacier in a way that is not possible otherwise.  To get to the glacier you take a modified gigantic German military vehicle up onto the glacier.  The thing is a total beast.

The trip takes you from a valley floor, into the mountains, and finally to the crest of the glacier.  The landscape changes from scrubby plants, and rushing glacial rivers, to lava rocks, to snow covered lava rocks, to snow, to wind blown deep snow.

I love wind blown snow, almost as much as I love ice.  At the top of the glacier, the monster truck's journey ends and we disembark into the entrance of the tunnel, which typically needs to be cleared of snow before the doors can be opened.

From there, we enter into another world.  The tunnel is basically shaped like a lollipop and the tour takes about an hour.  From inside the tunnel, we could see how a glacier is formed and what the ice is doing as the glacier continues to sink and travel down the mountain sides.

It was incredibly fascinating. The entire thing is lit by LEDs that have been run behind the ice.  You're walking over lit floors, while gazing at clear blue ice and volcanic ash layers that normally wouldn't see any light at all.

The most fascinating bit, for me at least, was having the chance to see into the bottom of a crevasse.  Normally, the only way to do this is if you have made the unfortunate mistake of falling into one.  In that situation, it will probably be pitch dark and even if you could see your surroundings, you won't be interested in admiring them since you're probably in the process of dying.  Anyway, the Into the Glacier tour lets you check it out without the risk of death or even slipping.  The really cool thing about being able to see this crevasse is that this feature was totally unexpected.  They came across the crevasse while digging the tunnel.

For those less interested in the science of ice, there's the added attraction of a wedding chapel. Yeah, you can get married inside a glacier.  So...as I said, it's a bit of a gimmick.

After our time in the tunnel, we re-boarded the monster truck and headed down off the glacier.  Our last night in Iceland was spent trying to find a place that didn't serve the obligatory tourist dinner of whale or puffin meat.  We lucked out with the aptly named American Bar that served a surprisingly delicious meal of chicken wings and ribs.  Seriously, those were the best ribs I've had outside the States.  I also found my new favorite IPA, Úlfrún Nr. 34.  It alone is a reason to return ASAP.

The next day, we boarded the bus back to the airport and before long we were headed home to Germany.  There are few places we visit that grab us the way Iceland did.  We fell in love and we fell hard.  The last time we were that sad to lift off the tarmac was when we were in Norway.  Is there something about Scandinavia? I think so.

Shooting Iceland Part II: The Aurora

Unbelievably, it's been almost a month since we were in Iceland.  I figured by the time I got to this post, I'd finally have a hand on how to talk about our night with the aurora.  I'm afraid I don't.  I take comfort in knowing that this is a common problem for those who have witnessed it, but I'm worried that this post isn't going to do the experience much justice.

After two nights in Iceland, we hadn't had a single opportunity to catch the aurora.  The night we came in on the plane there was a blizzard and the next two nights were completely overcast.  I kept telling myself that the aurora was a bonus, and that thus far the trip was a total success.  Even though I was well aware that catching the aurora wasn't a guarantee for the trip and I was trying to be as pessimistic as possible about our chances so as not to be totally gutted if we never saw it, it was still nagging on me.  The reason to come in Winter was to partake in the ice tours, but also to have a chance to catch the lights.  If we didn't, we were going to be bummed. There was no way around it.  At around 1:00am after getting back from our two day southern coast tour, I sat in bed looking at our schedule and forecast.  It was obvious that we had one shot to catch the aurora on this trip and it was going to Easter Sunday night.

I went to the website of Reykjavik Excursions which was advertised on the reception desk of our hotel.  They still had a couple slots open for Easter, the price was good, and the forecast was calling for crystal clear skies.  My husband was already sound asleep, but I nudged him awake telling him that I had found a bus that would take us out to the lights and I wanted to book it.  He enthusiastically replied that he was down with the plan then went back to sleep.  I wasn't surprised when he was completely baffled the next morning as I reminded him that we had to catch the bus that night to see the lights.  He didn't remember a thing about the conversation at 1:00am.  For him, it was like I had booked a surprise.

After a full day of wandering on a mellow Easter day in Reykjavik, we went back to our hotel, changed into our cold weather gear, and waited for the minibus that would shuttle us to the big tour bus at the depot outside of downtown.  Once again, we marveled at the efficiency of Icelandic tourism companies.  For such a laid back people, they had scheduling and logistics down to a science.  The tour left the depot at 10:00pm.  It was a packed bus full of tourists from all over Reykjavik, ranging from excited to downright exhausted.  We were joined by an enthusiastic guide who spent the ride out of the city giving us all the information one could possibly have on the auroras- the science, the differences from place to place, and the different types of displays (clouds, ribbons, rain, etc). Lastly she explained how to get a photograph of them.  Unfortunately, this information was way too late for 95% of the group.

So you aren't one of the people groaning on a tour bus at the news your photographs haven't a chance of looking decent, here's what you need to know if you want to get a usable shot of the aurora.

1. You need a tripod.
You will need to take an exposure of about 30 seconds in length and there's no way you can get that handheld.  Also, get a shutter release cable or a remote shutter release.  This is not the time to rely on a smartphone app.

2.  You need a camera with manual control.
Sorry, smartphone users, if the aurora isn't super, super bright you won't be able to capture it successfully.  The way to get those lights to show up in an image is through a long exposure time, a wide aperture, and a high ISO.  So, you need a camera that has manual mode so you can set it up yourself for these conditions.  If you haven't shot outside of Automatic mode before, start practicing before you try on the Aurora.  You don't want to waste time (and warmth) trying to figure out how to change your camera settings.  Also, you'll probably want to use manual focus.  You will be shooting where it is really dark, so automatic focus will probably struggle.

3.  You need a camera that has high ISO capabilities.
Full frame isn't necessary, just make sure your sensor is four thirds or larger.  But, check to make sure the camera you're going to use actually performs well at high ISO levels 3200+.  Read reviews.  Look at sample images.  Not all sensors are created equal.

4.  You need a good lens.
Don't bother with a lens that doesn't have a max aperture of f/2.8 or lower. Preferably, you want it at f/2.  You probably won't need a zoom lens in this instance; auroras are meant to be shot wide.  So, if you have a wide angle prime this is its time to shine.  But, a high quality wide angle zoom will be just fine too.

5.  You need a flashlight or headlamp with a red beam.
It takes about 10 minutes for your eyes to adjust to the dark and any infiltration of white or blue light (car headlights, camera and phone LCDs) with destroy the adjustment your eyes made.  The only type of light that won't screw your eyes up is red.  Let folks laugh, you will be the only one out there that can see anything.

6.  You need to know how to use your camera.
This seems like a given, but there were a lot of people on that tour who suddenly realized that they had no idea what they were doing and spent the time staring into a menu instead of the most glorious display in nature.  That's just sad.  Don't be that person.

Ok, so back to the bus.  It wasn't long after we got beyond the lights of Reykjavik that the guide directed us to look out the bus window (for once we happened to be on the correct side of the bus).  A huge ribbon of green was starting to appear ever so faintly across the sky.  The guide got really excited.  This was going to be a good night.  The driver found a gravel road a few minutes later and pulled in, along with another bus and about every other car that happened to be on that road at that moment.  The guide gave us reflective snap bracelets (making this child of the 80's very pleased) so she wouldn't lose us in the dark.  Then we all disgorged from the bus.  It was madness for about 5 minutes.  The display of the lights was far more intense and vivid than I expected, and by the sounds of it, the guide wasn't quite believing how bright it was either.  There was some jostling and tourists clambered around in the dark, sinking up to their knees sometimes in the snowdrifts.  Those of us with tripods tried to get out in front of the crowd so we wouldn't get the masses in the shots and would have a little space to ourselves.

I had already got the settings ready before we left the hotel and got the camera on the tripod during the ride out.  It was a good thing too.  It was bloody, bloody cold.  I'm not sure how cold, but the wind was pretty strong and it didn't take long for my hands to start going numb, even with gloves on.  We're from Northeast Ohio, where the Winter temps regularly dip to 0F or below.  My time living in more mild Bavaria may have made me a wuss, or it was hovering somewhere around 5F with the windchill. I kept the tripod low to the ground so I could block the wind with my body.  My shutter release cable is mercifully plastic and long enough that I could pull it into my coat pocket, but I still had to take my hands out in order to focus the lens.  I use fingerless gloves that transform into mittens because I need the dexterity to feel the focus ring.  It only took a few minutes of messing around with the focus ring on the metal lens for the first signs of frost nip to start.  I didn't think about it too much though, because what we were seeing pretty much pushed all other thoughts out of our minds.

We knelt in the snow as the colors changed from yellow green to deep green and back with little hints of pink and red every once in a while.  I snapped away, trying my best to stay in the moment while still managing to capture the display.

There is nothing you can do to prepare for photographing the aurora.  It's not like portrait photography; you can't just practice on your family.  It's not like landscape photography; you can't just practice in your local park.  It's not even like regular night photography; what you're witnessing doesn't happen every night all over the world in a dark place.  Unless you are blessed to live in a place where the aurora occurs, there is no way to practice before you go out for the shot.  If you're lucky your visit will have a couple clear nights so you can get a few chances to practice your technique, but there's no way you can predict that.

The most common display of the aurora is a faint cloud, barely perspective to the human eye.  The display we were given on Easter night was far more intense, bright, rippling, and massive.  I was elated, overwhelmed, and, yes, the emotions were high.  If my eyes weren't already tearing up from the cold, I probably would have gotten teary anyway.  At the most I had hoped just to see the cloud aurora, this was more than I could have dreamed to witness.  We kept saying to each other, "Look at this!  Look at this! Can't you believe this!?!"  The rest of the group was going pretty nuts too.  But, one by one, they started to climb back into the bus.  It was just too cold, and they soon gave up trying to capture it with their phones.  A few of us remained out there with our tripods through the whole time, with just a 5 minute retreat to thaw our faces.  There was no way I could sit on the bus.  My fingers were killing me, but this could be the only chance we have in our lives to see this amazing event.

All in all, the preparation I had done beforehand had served me well.  I made adjustments here and there as the lights intensified or dimmed, but for the most part it was going smoothly for my first time photographing the aurora.  The hardest part was focusing.  Like I mentioned above, it was far too dark to rely on automatic focus.  The spot where the bus had taken us was perfect for seeing the lights, but there wasn't anything bright enough to focus the lens on.  I settled on a bright star, but discovered that my teared up eyes had played some tricks on me and things weren't as sharp as I thought.  I had more success as time passed, but it was probably the hardest part of shooting (besides the freezing part).  Ideally, there would be something on the horizon like a light or a building to focus on, but we were in a stark landscape.  The wind was also a bit of an issue, it caused just enough vibration a few times to cause blurring.  Also, shivering wreaked a bit of havoc.  As I got colder I had a harder time being deliberate with my movements, and clearing bumped the tripod a couple of times.

It wasn't easy, not by a long shot, but it was totally worth it.  It was the most incredible thing I have ever seen, it was the coldest I have ever been.  It was one of the most rewarding moments behind a camera.

Ok, so what did I do to get these shots?  I used the X-T1 with the 16-55mm lens because the lens gets a max of f/2.8 and weather sealing is a must when the temps are this low.  I had it mounted on good old Brian from Three Legged Thing.  I opened the lens all the way and usually took an exposure between 20-30secs.  Any longer and you start to get start trails.  ISO was set at 1600 for the most part, I did raise it a touch when the lights became dimmer.  I actually didn't do too much to these shots in post.  I edited them in Photoshop RAW, to reduce the noise that is inevitable with a higher ISO.  I also lifted the snow in the foreground in most of the shots (thanks to Fujifilm's excellent dynamic range).  Are they the greatest aurora shots out there? No. I'm a novice at shooting them, but I'm totally satisfied at the outcome.  I certainly wouldn't pass up a chance to shoot them again.

My husband demonstrating our awe of the scene before us, holding very still.
That wasn't easy.

Like I said in the last post, this trip was intended to be one of several.  We'll go back for a summer and, if it works out, will return for another winter trip.  For that, we wouldn't use a tour to see the lights again.  They definitely got us there, and it was great having the information from the guide, but the location wasn't the most exciting.  I'd like to be able to set up somewhere with a good focus point or a stunning foreground.  Also, it would be nice to get away from the roads.  There were a lot of headlights to contend with and several cars that had gotten themselves in accidents or stuck because it was too crowded in that area.  But, those are minor things I would change.  This was, without a doubt, the highlight of our trip.  It is a highlight of all our travels.  As long as I live, I'll never forget the dancing lights over the snowscape (something a still photograph will never properly capture).  I'll never forget being so overwhelmed by such intense beauty that I didn't notice I had lost feeling in my hands.  I'll never forget being brought to my knees, reminded that we are really just insignificant creatures with no comprehension of the magnitude of this universe and this planet.  I'll never forget it.

Shooting Iceland Part I

Skógafoss

Alright! After a couple of weeks I've finished going through all the photos from Iceland, they're up on the website, and I can finally start telling you about the experience!  Even though we were only there for four days, a lot happened so I'm going to break this into at least two parts.  I'll put up the second part next week.

The flight from Frankfurt to Reykjavik brought us in late in the midst of a snow storm.  I was pumped.  Dropping down from the clouds in the midst of a blizzard was the perfect way to begin a trip to a place I've been fascinated by long before it hit everyone else's radar when the volcano blew in 2010.  To be honest, I'm fascinated by arctic locales in general.  If I had my way and endless funds, we'd hit Greenland, Nunavut, and the granddaddy of them all- Antarctica.  The imagery and intensity of polar deserts, mountains, glaciers, basically places that are really cold and can kill you without too much work have been a fixation of mine since childhood.  I'm not sure why, maybe because I'm attracted to the perfect forms of ice and snow or maybe it's because these places aren't for people and places like that are an introverts dream.  Anyway, I'd happily take a take trip to a polar wasteland over a beach every time.

Svinafelljokull Glacier

Well, Iceland is obviously is not quite as an extreme choice as Antarctica or as difficult to access as Greenland, and it sits just south of the Arctic Circle.  It's just as modern as the rest of northern Europe, has a couple of airports, and the tourist trade is booming.  We chose it because it's the easiest to access from where we are, because its unique geology makes it unlike any other spot on earth, and because it's on the edge of becoming a travel cliche (I'll get to that in another post).  We decided to go over the Easter holiday because it sat at the tail end of the Winter season and that meant we could participate in the colder tours and, if we were lucky, catch the Aurora Borealis.  From the get go, I planned this to be an intro visit.  I have every intent to return as soon as possible.  Iceland is one of those places that hooks you in and there's nothing you can do but start planning the next visit.  It's inevitable.

Since we were coming at the end of Winter, we decided to do something that we've never done on a trip before- sign up with a tour service.  Normally we'd rent a car and do our own thing, but this is Iceland in Winter and growing up in Northeast Ohio you learn to respect what Winter can throw at you.  It's one thing to drive around Cleveland in a flash snowstorm, it's a whole other thing to get caught out in the Icelandic countryside.  Plus, we wanted to participate in a few activities you have to have guide for- glacier hiking and such.  So, after doing quite a bit of research I decided to go with Extreme Iceland.   We signed up for two tours with them, but for this post I'll just talk about the first one which filled the first two days of the trip.

Signing up with a guided tour brings a lot of advantages over just renting a car and consulting a book.  Guides can tell you things that books never do, and the great thing about all the guides we met in Iceland is that they really love talking about their country.  Heck, I would too.  Guides also take the guesswork out of the trip.  You can just sit back and take in the scenery, hit the high points, and get a sense of the land without having to worry about finding the next gas station, the weather forecast, and all the other logistical headaches.  But, taking a guided tour also has its disadvantages.  First of all, unless you can hire a private guide, you're going to be with a group.  That can be cool because it's a chance to meet some new people, but it can also be a pain in the neck since some of those people may be, well, a pain in the neck.  The other downside, and this one is huge for photographers, you aren't in control of the schedule.  This is something you accept immediately, of course, but it's still frustrating when you are out there trying to get a shot and you only get 30 minutes at the location.  But, as I said, this was an introduction trip, so I knew from the onset that I wasn't going to come home with a ton of work and that it wasn't going to be an ideal shooting situation.  That still didn't prevent the occasional groan when we'd disembark our bus on a beautiful spot in the absolute worst glaring light possible.

Inside the infamous mini bus

The Icelandic landscape speeds by outside the bus windows

Horse drive, seen by bus.

Our guide, Gunnar, picked us up from our hotel in Reykjavik early on our first day and we spent probably about an hour in the city picking up the rest of the group.  By the time we headed out of the city our Mercedes minibus had about 20 tourists.  Probably the only negative thing I can think of about this tour was that mini bus.  It was the most uncomfortable vehicle I've ever taken a long distance drive in since the time I made a torturous 4 hour journey in an Egyptian taxi.  Really, the problem was the bus itself. It had ridiculously tall seats that you couldn't see over and zero leg room, worse than economy seat on an airplane.  Between all the coats and bags and people it felt like we shoved in a sardine can.  I can't imagine what a claustrophobic person would go through on that bus.  Anyway, despite it's lack of transport comfort, the tour met our needs and then some.

Seljalandsfoss

The first day we stopped at several locations.  The first were waterfalls, Seljalandsfoss and Skógafoss.  Iceland's waterfalls are some of its most popular tourist attractions, and for good reason.  They're very impressive.  These two are located right off the main ring road, so they're a must for all the buses and car rental tourists.  According to our guide, he had never seen so many people at the falls before.  Iceland, I think, is going to start facing some facts about its tourist trade.  Anyway, both of the falls were packed, crazy packed.  We were given 30 minutes at Saljalandsfoss.  That's 30 minutes to walk to the falls from the parking lot, find a decent spot to set up, meter, put on filters, teach random tourists how to operate their own cameras, and, finally, take the shot.  Thirty minutes feels like fifteen.  For the next two days, my husband and I were running.  I'm a landscape photographer, I was going to come home with some decent landscapes from Iceland, even if I only had 30 minutes at a time to do it!  This shot of Seljalandsfoss above is the first I took on the trip.  I was able to get one more and then it was time to head back to the bus.

I decided I was only going to use the X-T1 on this trip.  There was no point in bringing a camera that wasn't weather sealed.  I shot 90% of the trip with the 16-55mm lens.  I think this is the perfect X Series combination for travel to challenging locations.  That combo is totally weather sealed and 16-55mm range can pretty much get you whatever you're after.  I threw the 10-24mm lens in the bag, just in case I needed a super wide angle, but I only switched over to it a couple of times.  I shot most of the first two days on a tripod (trusty Brian) with a 10 stop ND filter.  Besides the visual advantage of smoothing out water and clouds, ND filters are a huge help in tourist spots.  People (usually) move around a lot.  Sometimes they all blur out of the shot, but usually they blur just enough that I can remove the ever present pink jackets and garish ski pants in post without too much work.  This shot above was taken much further away on our hustle back to the bus, but you can see the crowd of people around the base of the falls.  By using the ND filter I was able to remove all of them.

The next falls, Skógafoss, was more of a challenge.  We were given 40 minutes at this one and I used every second.  At this falls, you can climb up above it, but we've climbed a lot of stairs in our lives and we didn't have time to do that and get a photo.

This was the first angle we went for because there were less people nearby.  I obviously used the filter here again, but I didn't remove the people so you could get a sense for how many were around at this location.  Take particular notice of the two in black on the far left.  I wasn't real keen on this spot, so we relocated closer to the river.  The rainbow caused by the falls' mist was more noticeable from the new angle and I wanted something a little more interesting in the foreground than the stones.

This is the final shot, after I've removed all the people.  I took about 15 usable long exposures.  Other shots were ruined because someone stepped right in front of me, or were standing so close to the side that I couldn't cleanly remove them in Photoshop.  Normally, even in a populated area like this it will take several exposures in order for me to capture a clear moment of every spot in the frame.  It is easy to cut people out of dark areas, but I wanted the actual data of the water and the rainbow to work with.  I felt they were just  too delicate to recreate with a clone stamp.  Remember those two folks in black from the first shot above?  They ended up being why it took 40 minutes to get one image of this location.  They didn't move.  Well, they moved, but just enough to make them unusable.  And, they were smack over a good portion of that rainbow.  If they had stood perfectly still, then I could have left them in, nice outlines of people in the center of a beautiful scene.  But, since they, of course oblivious to my artistic needs, moved around a little, hugging and kissing, they just created an irritating black blob.  So, we stood there waiting and waiting until FINALLY they moved over just 4 feet and I could get that last chunk of the image.  Just as I was about to get a second exposure with them out of the way, they moved right back to where they had been!  Thankfully, that one shot I got had what I needed.  I combined the 15 different exposures in Photoshop to get the scene above.  Only took half a day! Whew!  Of course, I wouldn't come to this location at that time of day necessarily, but when you're on a tour you have to improvise.

Just when I thought tourists were going to be the big hurdle, we headed to the black sand beach of Reynisfjara.  The weather changed dramatically from the nice sunshine and rainbows to a gusty, dark skied, storm. Reynisfjara is known for its black sand and basalt columns.  I will always, always remember the wind.

I've been in some high winds before, but nothing to the degree of this.  Sand was blowing everywhere, seaweed was flying through the air, and I'm pretty sure a small child was lifted off her feet at one point.  It was incredible, a demonstration of the devastating power of nature.  There would be no tripod work here.  I could barely stand still.  We had 30 mins here, but with the weather being as it was, I couldn't see remaining much longer anyway.  All shots had to be taken downwind, since spray off the ocean and sand would hit the lens if facing in the other direction.  Even though it wasn't at all conducive for photography, I think this was my favorite moment from the first day- leaning against the wind.

From there we headed pretty rapidly to the famous Jökulsárlón Glacier Lagoon, spotting some reindeer running along side the road on our way.  It was the end of the day, and the clouds had moved in pretty heavily.  The lagoon beach was fairly crowded though, and it was clearly THE spot for time lapse shooters that day.  It was difficult to find a patch of beach that wasn't occupied, and even after we staked a claim to a small bit, we still had to defend it.  I'm not sure why some people think it's ok to step in front of someone with a tripod, but I'm pretty sure there's a specific corner of Hades waiting for them.  But, we had 45 mins here, so no need to run for a change.  

This was my favorite location of the trip.  I love the forms the glacial ice takes and could have happily spent hours and hours in the soft light shooting the bits that had washed up on the rocky shore.  It was an otherworldly place, and the epitome of that polar beauty and starkness I have been fascinated with.  This was exactly the sort of location I was hoping to have access to.  To top it off, quite a few seals were hunting in the lagoon.  They were too far out to capture with the camera, but it was very moving to watch these beautiful creatures in their natural habitat amongst the ice.

From there we went to our hotel and enjoyed a nice evening chatting with some of our fellow travelers and guide over lamb burgers and reindeer tartar.  The next morning we headed back to the lagoon and I think we had about an hour there again.  The morning was already quite advanced and the sun was directly overhead, but I was able to shoot quite a bit and had a blast not only photographing the ice, but finally having a chance to take it in.  I would have killed to have gotten there at sunrise, but to have some more time there at all was fantastic.

From there, the tour became more active.  We were to hike the Svinafelljokull Glacier.  That involved quite a bit of prep, fitting crampons and such.  The tour is very well organized, down to the minute and I can't say enough about how impressed we were by the guides.  They have to lead total novices around in one of the most dangerous locations you could lead them.  Many of the tourists don't listen or ignore instructions, and it must take a lot of willpower on the part of the guides to prevent smacking them with an ice ax.  This glacier has been used in several films- Interstellar, Batman Begins, and Game of Thrones, so obviously it's pretty safe for a glacier.  But, you're still walking around on ice, and it wouldn't take too much to screw that situation up.  We spent about an hour on the glacier and even after an entire day of being wowed by Iceland's landscape, our jaws were dropping again.  It was another spot I could have spent hours in.

Fixing ice screws

Preparing to descend into a crevasse, not very far mind you.

Crevasse

The most important thing to have on ice after crampons.  I have no idea why this
one was lying on the ground.

After our glacier experience, it was time to head back to Reykjavik, albeit leisurely.  On the way we had 20 minutes to walk through moss covered lava fields.  Then, it was 30 minutes at Vik and another chance to run, this time to get some shots of the sea stacks.

  

We made one more stop at another waterfall, which I didn't have much success photographing since we were inside it. It was a great test of the X Series weather sealing though!  Then it was back to Reykjavik.  We took the long way back, hoping for a break in the clouds to catch the aurora, but no luck this time.  It had been overcast for the the past two nights.  The third night was forecasted to be clear, so there was still hope.  I certainly had plenty of shots I was pleased with, and if those two days were all we had there I think I would have been more than satisfied.  We climbed into our beds around midnight feeling like we'd been through a whirlwind. 

I, even weeks later, cannot get over the majesty of Iceland.  It is a landscape photographer's Mecca.  Even though it was during the brown time of winter, it was overcast, and it rained and snowed quite a bit, the beauty was not diminished.  In fact, I think in many ways it was heightened.  Despite the frustrations that come with taking a group tour, we were very pleased with our decision to join Extreme Iceland.  It was certainly a challenge for me to get the images I wanted, but we wouldn't have been able to get to some of these locations in that short amount of time without their help.  Getting to walk on a glacier, stand in the blasting wind of the Atlantic, and marvel at the ice sculptures of Jökulsárlón were totally worth being crammed on that bus.  Now we have a good idea of where to go on our return trip when we have our own car.  We're definitely taking an entire morning at Jökulsárlón!

Please head over to my website to see all the final photographs from the trip.  You can find them under Countryside when you click "Browse Galleries" or click "Newest Additions" to go directly to the Iceland gallery!

Next week I'll fill you in on the third day of the trip and tell you what it's like to photograph the Aurora!

Back to School: Taking MoMA's "Seeing Through Photographs" Course

One of my course readings. I loved it so much, I asked for it for my birthday.

Ok guys, I did it.  I successfully completed the "Seeing Through Photographs" course offered by the Museum of Modern Art on Coursera!  As promised, I'll now let you know how it went.

First, a little background.  I've written several times that I wanted to take my understanding and learning of photography to another level, beyond technique.  I wanted to get a good foundation in the history, legacy, characteristics, and aesthetics of the art.  When I heard that MoMA was offering a free online course that would "address the gap between seeing and truly understanding photographs" I figured this was just the tool to fill my needs.  I read a lot of articles online, but most of that content is "how-to's" and current project/artist critiques and write-ups.  I needed someone to point me in the right direction on the why's, who's, and how's of photography's more distant past.  I really wanted to know where all today's stuff comes from and even though there are a lot of books out there, this course offered me one extra opportunity- it was going to actually teach me.  So, I signed up for the full certification option.  I figured that if I was paying for it, if there was a test at the end, if I was forced to commit to a time limit, I would get the most out of the experience.  I've read a few other reviews of the class by some pros and semi-pros, but so far I haven't come across anyone who committed to the full class format.  They didn't take the quizzes or participate in the final project.  That's totally fine I suppose, but in my opinion, if you're going to take a class, take the class!

So, here's what it was like.

The course is divided into six week modules.  It covers portraiture and documentary photography most specifically, but not from the perspective of instruction of technique, but the much deeper perspective of significance.  The course covered everything from the different ways they were done, to how they changed over time, the different motivations, the trends, and the influences. It always, always approached the topics from the perspective of an art museum, which was a refreshing way to look at images.  It dove deeply into examples as specific as one image to a series of images to an entire career.  It covered the impact of certain photographs and photographers not only on the field itself, but on our modern culture as well.

I had heard the names Winogrand, Adams, Evans, Stieglitz, etc., but this was a true opportunity to study their work in depth and gain an understanding how and why they shaped photography.  I learned how photography and fine art have had a fluid relationship, sometimes close, sometimes in opposition. Through the early lessons I came upon the idea that photography is practiced on a sort of swinging pendulum.  It is constantly tugged between the trend of creating pure documents or creating artistic images.  I now see clearly that today's trends are rooted in the the foundations of early photography.  While today's portrait, wedding, and event photographers may think they are doing something unique and new by going against the tack-sharp, bokehlicous aesthetic of digital photographs by creating images of a film-like, documentary appearance, they are in fact just recycling a look from the 1960's (and they're doing this because Instagram and its filters are the hottest things in photography right now).  Fine art photographers are hearkening back to the aesthetics of the Photo-Secession.  Then of course, there's this quasi-revolt against modern technology by photographers who shoot in film again (only to scan and edit in Photoshop anyway) and the development of new-old technology like Lomo's new Petzval 85 art lens which not only makes the images look like they come from old technology, but looks vintage itself.  In short, even though technology and technique is always changing and the pendulum never swings back to the same exact spot twice, when it comes to motivation and artistic ideas there is "nothing new under the sun."  Why did I find this so enlightening?  It's freedom.  It was the photographers who recognized that pendulum and the influence of pop culture and trends that found their voice.  With this knowledge in the back of my mind I feel that I'll be better aware of falling down the rabbit hole, and over time and practice I too will be able to find a clear voice.

Another lesson that I found absolutely fascinating was photography's role in influencing narratives.  What is in a photograph is just as important as what may have been left out.  It goes beyond the role of the photographer's framing decisions, but extends to the choices of the printer, the editor, the gallery, and the institution.  One photograph can mean several things depending on its context.  The ramifications of manipulation and placement go far deeper that I realized.  I sat back in my chair several times, feeling like the wool had been lifted from my eyes.  It is awesome to be able learn stuff like that.

The course provides the learner with videos and slideshows for each module.  But, there is also reading.  A lot of reading.  Towards the end of the class it began to taper a little, but early on I was constantly feeling like I had traveled back in time to my days at university, frantically reading massive out of context articles, scribbling notes, writing outlines, and then going back to make sure I had gotten it.  A lot of the reading was for lack of a better term "arty."  Many of the articles are written by former curators or directors from MoMA and while there is no doubt these folks were at the top of their field, some of them needed a good lesson in writing.  I like to think I have a decent mind, but I often found myself reading and re-reading the same paragraphs over and over again only to write in my notes, "I have no idea what this guy was trying to say.  It was 1966, so maybe he was high."  I have a lot of friends who talk like these articles.  They go on and on in what sounds like coherent sentences, and occasionally the light comes on and I get this huge sense of relief that I'm able to "hang" only to have the light go out again.  Let's just say I prefer my sources to be a bit more on the academic side.  But, this is art we are talking about, and by nature it's not going to be talked about in an academic way.

Be that as it may, the readings were invaluable.  And once I got comfortable with their style, I found myself reading everything, even the supplemental articles.  Thanks to this class, I've discovered the wondrous world of self-published, photo collection or exhibition books.  Through these books I'm able to access photographs that stimulate and refresh my mind from a time before the infiltration of the Instagram and social media effect.  I love it.  Family members are now relieved that there is an endless list of books to choose from for gift giving occasions.  That hole I was feeling from my lack of background in formal art history and photography instruction is beginning to be filled.

Ok, about the quizzes.  Yes, there are quizzes, one at the end of every module.  These quizzes were probably the most frustrating aspect of the class.  You have 10 questions and you are only allowed to miss 2 in order to pass.  You do get a chance to retake the quiz 3 times if you don't pass, so that's a plus.  I passed all my quizzes on the first try, but I think that was mostly because of my obsessive note taking.  There were several times that I found the wording of a question to be tricky or possibly purposefully misleading and I called out the Admin on it.  Sometimes, they went in and reworded the question, sometimes they didn't.  The fact that they actually read and considered my concerns went a long way with me.  It showed they weren't leaving this up to Coursera, but someone at MoMA was monitoring and paying attention, like a proper class should be run.  I came to the class thinking the quizzes would be more conceptual based to make sure we understood the main themes of the module, but often they were detailed focused.  You had to do the reading, and pay very close attention to it.

To finish the course you have to submit a final project.  Since they don't tell you what that project is until you get to that point in the course, I won't tell you either.  I will say it involves writing two 500 word essays, submitting a published photograph to accompany one of the essays, and that you will be graded by your peers.  Once that's been done, you receive your final grade for the course. If you signed up for the certification they send you the certificate file.

So, what's my final word?  It isn't an easy course.  Back in the day, I think online learning was looked down upon.  I don't know, maybe it still is.  This course, however, was just as challenging conceptually and in work load as a university level course.  At no point did I think this was a piece of cake.  It pushed me from beginning to end.  Having it online, of course, means that you can take it no matter where you are.  For me, that was perfect.  The only way I'd get similar instruction would be to attend a class somewhere around here and that would mean I'd have to be fluent in German.  However, what was the most helpful to me is a huge problem for students who don't have English as their first language.  There are no subtitles in other languages and the reading is high level comprehension.  If your English isn't at expert level then you probably don't want to sign up for the certificate.  Just do the free version and skip the quizzes and project.  Because of the language there were a lot people struggling with assignments and they weren't able to pass.  That's disheartening and in my opinion takes away from the experience.  Don't stress yourself out.

So, should you take it?  If you like looking at photographs or if you take them, yes.  In my opinion, the best way is to dedicate yourself to the course so you can take complete advantage of what Photography Dept. Curator Sarah Meister has compiled for you.  That means doing the readings, taking the quizzes, and submitting the project.  This course has a lot to offer those who, like me, want to take their knowledge and understanding of photography to a deeper level.  I'm certain that it's not only helpful for those who want to learn about how to look at photographs, but also for photographers.  Seeing and studying exceptional work from the past certainly righted my compass a bit.  I'm really pleased I signed up.