THOUGHTS, FEELINGS, QUESTIONS
Photographs. We look at them. We analyze them for their technical qualities. But can we make the viewer wonder? Can we convey feelings and thoughts? Can we make them elicit questions?
The answer is, "Yes."
I wonder if, in today's photography world, we are so engrossed in getting the photo (technically) correct that we lose sight of the experience we're trying to record or convey.
A friend once said about my photography, "It's like visual poetry." Another asked, "How do you make your images talk?" I don't know that my photography is visual poetry, but I do prefer to get the right exposure for my images, as opposed to the "correct" exposure.
So, what's the difference? The former aims for the creative aesthetics side of photography. The latter aims to get the photo technically correct. The former inspires and elicits feelings, thoughts, and questions. The latter awes the viewer with its sharpness, color vibrance, and no shadows or highlights. Don't get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with that. I have several images in my collection that fit that description. There are a lot of markets for that, from a business perspective.
However, from a fine arts perspective, I like my exposures to be right, not "correct." Some have shadows; some have highlights. Here are several examples of what I mean by preferring the right exposure.
I was waiting for my students to join me for my three-day field workshop around a local lake. In the meantime, I walked around to see what I could find. It didn't take long before I saw this scene surrounded by light-floating fog. It was so serene and peaceful. I could imagine myself daydreaming on that soft hammock by the lake.
This scene was just the opposite. You can't help but ask, "What am I looking at?" I found thousands of crosses on the property of a Catholic church. They went on forever. The church was protesting abortion. So surreal. I liked the image better in black and white because it made the crosses really "pop" against the dark grasses and wide-open spaces.
This next interesting juxtaposition begs questions if you don't know the context. I was photographing 80-million-year-old Monument Rocks in far western Kansas, which were at the bottom of a large sea millions of years ago. Then, totally unexpected, I saw a white and turquoise 1970s VW bus park near the formations, but out of my view. I imagined a Salvador Dalí moment. I walked over to the van and talked to the young driver. He told me he was on his way from Brooklyn to the West Coast. I asked him if he would mind parking his van in front of the formations. He kindly obliged. Click.
If this scene were photographed in broad daylight, on a bright sunny day, it would be a rather mundane image. However, when photographed in late evening, after the sun had gone down, it takes on a different personality. The darkness creates mystery. The lights on the dump truck cab and bed create interest, as do the lights inside the building. Then there are the grasses lit up by the truck headlights. Correct exposure? No. Right exposure? Yes.
I wanted to create mood, mystery, and a sense of motion with this scene. It was early morning on this county road. There was a thick fog in the air. By moving slowly forward as I clicked, with a slow shutter speed, I created a sense of motion. The mood was created by the highlights and very dark areas in the image. Again, the right exposure for what I was trying to achieve.
Where do you usually go when you want to read a book? On your deck in the backyard? At the library? On a shaded bench in your local city park? Maybe at your favorite coffee shop? Not this young lady. She is surrounded by red rock formations! She was reading right behind the stage at Red Rocks Amphitheatre, near Morrison, Colorado.
This woman was not reading. She was waiting for the next train. This nighttime image at a train station begs so many questions. Why is she the only one at the station? Why is she alone?
Where is she coming from, and where is she going? Is she not afraid? And those stilettos?
I was fascinated by the contrast between harsh, hard concrete and steel against the tiny, dainty figure.
His name is MIchael. I saw him downtown, through a window at Starbucks. The dark shadows around him, his appearance, and his intense focus on what he was reading or doing was an irresistible story. I introduced myself and asked politely if he'd let me take his picture. He asked what I wanted him to do. Nothing, I said. Just keep doing what you're doing. Click.
This last image is a perfect example where the "correct" exposure is way off the mark--too many bright areas and too many dark areas. Yeah, that's what I wanted. I wanted the lake fisherman, up to his chest in water, totally silhouetted. Can you imagine this image totally sharp, complete detail through and through, and no shadows?
I encourage you to give yourself an "outside-your-comfort-zone" assignment. Instead of trying to capture the "correct" exposure, translate your thoughts, feelings, or sensations into something we call a photograph. Does your present-moment experience pose questions for you?
Have fun. If you live in the Little Rock/Hot Springs, Arkansas area, contact me for a 1-on-1 or small group field lesson.
