Wednesday 23 September 2009

Thinking past the end of your lens

We all do it.

Get our priorities skewed, I mean. If you read any of the multitude of internet fora devoted to the subject of photography, they are all about the kit, not the image. People who get all bent out of shape debating the relative merits of a concave vs a convex screw-in soft release button tend to forget that they first started "getting serious" about photography not because of the sexy high tech equipment, but because of the desire to take better photos.

But techno-lust is insidious. It is all too easy to jump on the treadmill of technological advance in the (mistaken) belief that buying a better camera will result in better images. It won't. How many of us actually test our existing equipment (and ourselves) to the limits? Far too many of us walk around with a neckful of exotic glass that we can never do justice to, because our skills and expertise are just too limited.

Go on.

Admit it.

There, doesn't that feel better?

Since the advent of the digital age, the treadmill has moved faster than ever. Product cycles that used to be measured in lustrua now make the average mayfly look like Methuselah. That, combined with the ability to machine gun your subject at minimal cost then choose the "best" (ie least worst) slices from the salami of studied mediocrity is turning more than a few amateurs from being an average photographer to a poor editor.

But.

There are cheaper ways to improve your photography, both in terms of quality and personal satisfaction. Look at it this way; which is more gratifying - to sit there at your pc after the event and spot your favourite "image capture" from in amongst the myriad of infinitesimally different shots? Or is it to behave more like a sniper - wait, watch, plan, anticipate, and squeeze the shutter release at just the right moment?

The (galloping) gourmand approach to photography is all about quantity, in the fond but sadly mistaken belief that quantity has a quality all of it's own. The gourmet approach, on the other hand, is about using the finest ingredients - camera, lens, film, location, subject, timing, skill - to conjure something that captures only the most fleeting of instants, but that has the power to linger in the mind for years to come.

The key to this, I believe, is for the photographer to think ahead, and to visualise the world beyond the end of their lens hood before they even rest a finger on the shutter release. It doesn't mean that all life becomes still life - far from it - but training the mind and the eye to see shots before they are taken - before the decisive moment occurs - is a deeply satisfying experience.

(Apologies for a moment to my overseas readers - this analogy won't mean much to you, but it is the best I can think of)

Think for a moment of the Channel 4 station idents that are often broadcast before a programme starts. A selection of disparate items - buildings, cranes, etc - physically far removed from each other, are brought into juxtaposition for a moment by a change of viewpoint. For a split second the Channel 4 logo is formed, then gone again.

As in "art" so in life - watch any crowd of people; they are constantly on the move. But there are usually discernible and ultimately predictable patterns to their movement - eddies, swirls, caused by the physical strictures of the environment, by the time of day, by the announcement of the next train to Portsmouth. By tuning in on the movement, going with the flow, the photographer can capture moments of juxtaposition as they occur, because they have seen them coming. This is not some Nostradamus-like precognition at work, but just the application of observation coupled with commonsense.

In the natural world too, the same applies. Identifying just when an otherwise drab and meaningless scene will turn into an eye catching image through the play of light requires exactly the same sort of previsualisation skills as street photography. As the old gag goes, "Timing is the essence of good comedy" - it's also the attribute that, once mastered, sorts the photographers from the snappers.

Bald bod and balloon - coincidence? You decide...


So, in a nutshell you already own the most valuable and important piece of equipment that will improve your photography. It's right there, between your ears, and has been all your life. Just like the camera in your hands, you have never used it to it's full potential.

It's never too late to start...


Bill

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- All images on this blog are copyright Bill Palmer and may not be reproduced in any format or medium without permission.

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