This is the last installment of the response to the student.

Just as a printer (the person, not the machine) in a darkroom utilizing traditional techniques, the modern photographer cannot make a mediocre photo better with the computer. He can, however, realize a good image’s full potential. My particular tool of choice is Adobe Photoshop. I cannot recommend this for everyone, however. It has been referred to, on more than one occasion, as an 800-pound gorilla. It’s a very expensive program ($649) that has more features than any one person can fully master. There are a number of alternatives, such as the software the came with your camera (which may include Adobe Photoshop Elements – a much-scaled back version in terms of both breadth and price) or even free online sites and software (e.g. www.picasa.com).

There is book upon book concerning the digital workflow. In no way is one universally better than another. All I can do is to explain mine to you in hopes that you might find something useful. [The following is rather technical and may not make sense unless you are already familiar with the process.] In general, there are usually two copies of any print-worthy photo: the original, unadulterated file (my camera uses the file extension “.crw”) and the Photoshop (“.psd”) file. If I remember correctly, you cannot save over a .crw file so there’s little worry in overwriting your original file. I try to work in a nondestructive way. As such, my .psd file will always contain the image as processed by Adobe Camera Raw along with any number of other layers.

Rather than apply adjustments directly to the image itself, I use adjustment layers (found at the bottom of the layers palette, fourth button from the right (a half black and half white circle). This allows for unlimited adjustments without ever directly altering the image. Most often I use a curves adjustment layer to adjust the image until pleasing. Curves is incredibly powerful and it would be worth your while to experiment. With this method, you can also selectively dodge and burn (traditional darkroom techniques; lighten and darken, respectively) by utilizing the layer mask. This is the rectangle directly to the left of the layer name. By filling the layer mask with black and using a white brush, you can selectively apply the adjustment. This is the single most powerful technique I know. This is an entirely different skill set, but one well worth learning. When you finally print, flatten or merge all of the layers (ALWAYS save your original .psd file complete with layers), adjust the image size (unclick resample at the bottom, change the size, then recheck), and apply some sort of sharpening (I use Unsharp Mask, about which there are a number of books as well as articles online). Then save as a .jpg and upload to your printer of choice, put on a thumb drive, or what have you.

On the surface, photography is a simple medium, but to make worthwhile images, it takes just as much thought and effort as any other. I don’t know to what degree you are interested in photography. Some people want to “learn to take better pictures” while others seek a deeper understanding: to make art. Only you can decide to what extent you are willing to go.

“Though many painters and sculptors talk glibly of ‘going in for photography,’ you will find that very few of them can ever make a picture by photography; they lack the science, technical knowledge, and above all the practice. Most people think they can play tennis, shoot, write novels, and photograph as well as any other person – until they try.” — Ralph Waldo Emerson

Given that this book of a response isn’t what you were expecting, I’ll leave you with the following one-liners:

• Zoom with your feet.
• Fill the frame with the subject.
• Try shooting with your lens set at its minimum focusing distance and without zooming (this definitely will help you fill the frame).
• Bad weather equals dramatic light and clouds.
• Your camera doesn’t make photos, you do.
• The most uncommon perspective is usually far more interesting.
• Long shadows are more interesting (shoot when the sun is low)
• When the sun is high, the contrast may be too great for your camera to handle.
• Don’t forget to print. There’s a big difference between looking at them on screen and hold the print in your hand.
• Most of your photos will be crap. The sooner you come to terms with this the better off you’ll be. (“Twelve significant photographs in any one year is a good crop.” – Ansel Adams)

An homage to Mondrain

I find what turns people on interesting—in terms of art,that is.  It can give insight into what that person holds as an ideal and what images he may aspire to make.  I look for inspiration in any number of things.  About a year ago I stumbled upon the work of nature photographer Nick Brandt.  His images have incredibly rich tonality and he manages to humanize (anthropomorphize for those requiring a word of the day) his subjects.  His portraits are portraits, not photos of animals.  His book, On This Earth: Photographs from East Africa is easily worth full retail.  I bought two.  It’s fantastic!

One need not look only to photography for inspiration.  If you like abstractionist modern art (a la Mondrian) then by all means emulate it.  Or if another style of painting catches your fancy, figure out how to translate it to photography.  I happen to hold painting in rather high esteem and perhaps one day I will get over my fear of blank canvases.  Until then, I’ll look to others’ work.  

Albert Beirstadt paintings are epic in both scale and mastery.  His ability to capture light and convey immense depth are extraordinary.  If you’ve never seen one of his paintings, you owe it to yourself to do an image search via Google, or, better yet, visit a museum that has a Bierstadt.  I can guarantee you won’t be disappointed.

Andrew Wyeth is another painter for whom I have deep respect.  His palette is understated, minimalist even, but his paintings are emotional.  There’s a somber melancholy to many of his pieces, but there’s almost always one dominant (and usually vibrant) color.

Another form of inspiration that is readily accessible is movies.  Visionary directors and cinematographers can create what I can only describe as moving paintings.  The stylized color palette in 300 really gets my mental gears going, thinking how I might recreate the feel of some of the scenes.  Also, basically anything Guillermo del Toro touches has a certain whimsy about it that I find fascinating and beautiful.

Finally, Flickr is an awesome resource as there are many great photographers.  If you don’t have at least a free account, leave now and signup for one!  I constantly look to my “Favorites” for inspiration.  It’s a handy way to keep track of images I find evocative.

In making images that you would hang on your wall, it helps to know what you like, what you find interesting or engaging.  So what inspires you?

This is the next installment of the response to a student.

Digital photography and film photography aren’t as different as the publishing industry would have you believe. Much that has been written about film photography is just as applicable to digital photography. After all, a photograph is merely focused light captured on a substrate. Your camera is only a light-tight box. You can make a photo with a shoebox and a piece of film or photo paper (i.e. pinhole photography). In order to expose a photo properly, however, you must control the amount of light that reaches the film or sensor.

Your camera has two ways to do this: the shutter and the aperture. Shutter speed is the most straightforward of these two variables. It opens. It shuts. Depending on the speed, the subject may be frozen in time or blurred in action. As a rule of thumb, it is best to keep the shutter speed at least 1/(focal length [35mm equivalent]). That’s to say, if I have my lens set at 17mm (approx. 28mm in 35mm equivalency), I would want to make sure the shutter speed is at least 1/30 (rounding down to the nearest shutter speed). This helps minimize handheld, shake-induced blur.

The aperture controls the size of the opening through which light passes. While this may seem simple, the aperture (for reasons I won’t get into here) also affects the image in a more direct way. It controls the depth-of-field (the plane of focus parallel to the camera). This is a rather abstract concept that takes practice to fully understand. Simply put, the larger the opening the shallower the DOF, the smaller the opening the larger the DOF. Put another way, the wider the opening the narrower the plane of focus and visa versa. The aperture value is expressed as “f/(x)” and is inversely related to the size of the opening. For example, f/4 is the largest aperture of one of my lenses. This setting would also give the shallowest DOF. Conversely, f/22 is the smallest aperture to which this lens will stop down [nomenclature= to make the aperture opening smaller which concurrently makes the number larger], producing a wider DOF. An exercise that will help illustrate this is to arrange a series of objects approximately equidistant from one another, focus on the center object, and vary the aperture setting. Nearly any introductory photography book will have done this very experiment. It’s also worth noting that the closer to the lens the subject is, the narrower the DOF is at any given aperture, though this may prove to be more relevant later.

A third variable that may affect the image is the sensitivity of the substrate. The sensitivity of film is known as “ISO” and in digital cameras it’s referred to as “ISO equivalent,” or, more commonly, just “ISO.” Each number is either twice as sensitive (200 is twice as sensitive as 100) or half (400 is half as sensitive as 800) as each previous. As an aside, each halving or doubling is known as a stop; 200 is one stop faster than 100. This also applies to shutter speed (1/50 is one stop slower than 1/100) and aperture (f/2.8 is one stop faster than f/4). Your camera’s manual will probably include a list of shutter and aperture values in either whole- or half-stop increments. Generally, the lower the ISO, the less “noise” (or “grain” in film) is present.

One must learn to juggle these three variables in order to properly expose an image. Apart from the particular ways any given lens may affect the image (telephoto lenses compress and wide-angle exaggerate), adding filters, and adjusting white balance, these are the only ways that your camera can affect any given image.

Both film and digital sensors are able to capture only a limited range of light. Possibly the single greatest advantage of digital cameras is the histogram: the graphical representation of all the tones in a photo (from left to right the histogram shows the darkest to lightest tones). With film, the photographer doesn’t know for certain if the photo is properly exposed until it is developed. Digital cameras, whereas, give instant feedback. Though it depends on how the image will be handled in post-production and, more importantly, how the final product is intended to look, it is usually most important to make sure that the highlights don’t clip (which are recorded as pure white).

I hadn’t ever taken an art class before I started the course work for my art major.  I couldn’t draw.  I definitely couldn’t paint (still can’t).  All the people around me were CREATING, and there I was, camera and reproductions in hand.  I was jealous.

Gradually, I came to a realization (not a major revelation, granted, but an important one): like any other medium, photography has its own skill set specific to it.  Just as a painter learns what brush to use to apply paint of a given consistency to achieve a desired effect, so too must we as photographers learn the skills of our craft.  Though composition and design principles are pretty universal, it is only by learning the nuances of his medium of choice that an artist can realize his vision.

And further, like every other medium, not everyone can be a successful photographer.  Some people look at photos and think, “I could do that,” and they may well be right.  But they didn’t. I did.  These thoughts assuaged my feelings of inferiority to a degree.

It didn’t answer the question in my mind of monetary value, however.  How could a fellow student charge $300-400 for a painting no larger than one of my prints?  Was my product inferior?  I liked it.  Does reproducibility some how reduce the artistic merit of a work?  Does its worth become more dilute with each copy?  If I made one print and then destroyed the negative, would my work be just as valuable?

Don’t get me wrong, I understand the economics of the situation.  The laws of supply and demand dictate that if supply goes up, price goes down.  As a group, I would venture to guess that photographers are more prolific, relatively speaking, than painters.  After all, when was the last time you spent 30 hours or more on a single piece?  Perhaps this explains the price differential.  But I can’t help but think that it goes beyond that.  I wonder if photography is perceived as somehow less worthy.  What’s the ratio of photographs to paintings in any given museum?  At the SAM it’s pretty low.

There is a solution to this, though I don’t believe it’s the answer: we can limit the number of prints that we make of each image (as a number of photographers do).  By making our product scarce (i.e. we reduce the supply) the price, in theory, will increase.

If originality is the issue, we can make original prints in the traditional darkroom.  In the wet darkroom, photography IS printmaking.  Instead of passing ink through a screen as with silk-screening, we pass light through the negative.  No matter how hard we try, each print is slightly different.  But where are we left in the digital darkroom?  And when does photography cease to be photography?

I think people—at times, myself included—hold a debilitating misconception about photography: we believe that photography IS truth.  We’ve all been witness to some variation (in either fact or fiction) of the following scene: a lawyer, holding up a piece of paper, claims that this document provides incontrovertible evidence in the case—this photograph.  Conversely, we’ve all probably recognized that many people don’t look exactly how they appear in photographs.  The camera isn’t some impartial observer; it doesn’t give us unbiased views of the world.  It provides us with its interpretation.  We all operate in our own reality.

I don’t discount those who don’t change anything from negative to print.  If that’s their vision and what they want to convey, more power to them.  In my own experience, I can think of only a handful of images that I’ve created that didn’t need some sort of tweaking (two to be exact).  It is up to artists, utilizing whatever tools necessary and in their medium of choice, to show us the world through their eyes.

Like all artists, both past and contemporary, I work under the auspices of the definition of an incredibly short, but no-less meaning-laden word: art.  It is from this very word that the name of our profession (whether primary or otherwise) comes.  Through this little word, anything I make I can call art and it will be art.  Though in a previous post I came up with my own definition of art, I think I may found a better one (via Princeton University’s WordNet database): art is “the products of human creativity.”  Short.  Simple.  Profound.

It is through this that I finally found solace.  No longer did I worry about the merits of photography, but rather I embraced it as my medium.  It is the vehicle through which I show people what I see.  By using the tools at hand, I can create.  With the aid of Photoshop, I can complete my vision.  I can paint.

“Art should be more than just brush strokes on canvas showing a precise and literal duplication of an event.
Art is for more than that.  True art captures emotions, feelings, and the energy of the object or event that is being depicted.
It goes far deeper than the cold, flat surface of duplication.” — Joseph Minton

I know I’ve been slacking.  The sad part is I have a lot of content written, I just have to actually post it.  No excuse.  Originally I was going to post two to three times a week.  I now see that that was ambitious.  I think I could probably handle once a week.  We’ll see.  

In the mean time, here is some pretty:

I had seen graphics tablets for sale on various sites for a while and had entertained the idea of buying one for some time.  Then one semester I audited an advanced Photoshop class and rather than buying a book, the professor required the purchase of a graphics tablet.  Well what better reason is there than, “I need it for school!”  I decided to splurge on the Wacom Graphire4 6×8″—white to match my iMac, of course (yes I drank the Kool-Aid, and it was delicious!). [The current equivalent model is the Bamboo Fun (medium).]

It is easily the single best peripheral I own.  I’ve used it everyday for a year and a half.  In fact, I haven’t had a mouse connected to my computer for the last year.  In my workflow, I make heavy use of curves-adjustment layers and their associated layer masks.  The ease with which I can dodge and burn—without constantly changing brush size, mind you—is simply astounding.

I also downloaded the trail version of Corel Painter X and managed to produce the above.

Admittedly, it does take some getting used to.  Probably the biggest hurdle (apart from hand-eye coordination) is learning that for every point on the screen there is a corresponding point on the tablet.  You can’t lift and move the cursor as with a mouse.  When I first got mine, I forced myself to use it for everyday things like checking my email just to get used to it.  Now my mouse is packed away in the original box.

I can live without it to be sure, but I would be very, very sad.

A couple of months ago, I got an email from a student taking a photography class at Jamestown College.  The art professor had referred me to him as I have more experience with digital photography than she.  The following grew out of the response to a him and was published in Professor Cox’s column “Art Voices” in the Jamestown Sun. [It is split it into three sections as it is quite long.]

Many people start photography as a hobby because it is one of the most accessible art media there is.  To start you don’t need to learn how to apply paint to a canvas or worry how to draw something more than a stick figure. You need only to press a button. Inevitably, some will have (rather romantic) aspirations of becoming the ever-elusive “professional photographer” and will seek to make saleable images. Some people want to learn to take better pictures while others want to learn to make better pictures. Make no mistake; there is a world of difference between those two words. I’ve included in the following some of my own philosophies which have grown out of my own readings as well as my art education (including, but not limited to, my time at JC and my personal experimentation in the medium). Take from this what you will and - it should go without saying – with a grain of salt.

In its basest form, art is merely the physical representation of the artist’s intent. It is by this very definition that a urinal can be called art (Fountain by Marcel Duchamp). Despite the opinion of art critics, it is my belief that it is not for the viewer to judge the quality of a work. It may well be the intent of the artist to create discord with his work, which some may view as “bad” art. However, I think that the viewer is fully within his right to express his views of art in light of his personal tastes. For example, though I realize it serves as a mode of experimentation and self-expression, I personally don’t care for abstractionist modern art. I don’t think I’m qualified to deem such work “bad.” I can say without hesitation, however, “I don’t like it,” or “It doesn’t appeal to me.” A maxim by which I judge works of art is “Would I hang it on my wall?” I apply it not only to others’ work but, more importantly, my own. As such, I personally try to make photos that I like and without regard to others’ opinions.

First and foremost in the creation of art is a person’s ability to see. By this I mean the ability to understand what makes one thing compositionally better than another and to apply that concept to his own work. In teaching photography, I spent a large amount of time getting the students to think critically about what attributes – be they subject placement, contrast (color, tonal, or textural), leading lines, repetition, or any combination thereof – make one image more appealing than the next. Only by being cognizant of what factors most appeal to you and knowing how they interact with one another can one expect to truly make photos; otherwise, you’re just taking snapshots. So in looking at various images (photos or otherwise – good art knows no medium), I suggest you think deliberately about what qualities of each image you like or don’t like. Each class period, I had everyone grab a magazine from the piles that I’ve collected over the years and each person had to pick a few images and express why he was drawn to them. By quantifying the qualities of an image that appeal to you, you will, in time, internalize this process and apply as if it were second nature.

Photography, as a medium, is inherently much different than other media (it is, in some ways, more akin to sculpture). While other media may be thought of as additive processes (the painter must physically paint his subject in), a photographer must subtract distracting elements out of a photo to make a worthwhile image by either physically moving until a more pleasing vantage point is found and/or zooming; he must distill out that which detracts. In terms of general composition, the strongest images will have a readily apparent subject (which is often the area containing the highest contrast). More interesting images will also include some (or all) of the attributes listed above. These are basic design concepts about which volumes have been written.

Sometimes I will get so enthralled in what I’m doing I’ll lose track of time. This is the product of one such (very late) night. The original file is quite boring: very grey, lacking of contrast. It wasn’t until after I processed it that I really even noticed the streaks of rain.

The ground and bales required the most work. Four curves adjustment layers were needed to bring the dark bales into relative balance with the sky. The hardest thing was to fine tune the layer masks so that the bales didn’t have a conspicuous dark halo. All the extraneous pieces of hay sticking out of the bales drove me nuts!

This particular night I stumbled across a technique that I quite like. It involves the B&W adjustment layer (though you could use any method that makes a B&W layer: desaturation, channel mixer, etc.). I either overlay (read: Blending = “Overlay”) a color version of the photo on top of the B&W layer (as in this case) or change the blending mode of the the B&W layer itself to “Overlay.” This makes the darks VERY dark, necessitating the addition of even more curves adjustment layers. [I'll discuss this technique in a separate post.]

A lot of work? Yes, but I love the result.

I have two conflicting feelings: 1) I don’t want this blog to be dry but b) I also want it to appear at least somewhat professional. I have a feeling it’s going to be Option B because, let’s face it, it takes a lot of work to be this awesome. Maybe I’ll get my wit done with in this post. Supposedly they have a cream for that in Mexico.

The following is the first draft of my About page:

This kind of feels like my first day of German class.  ”Hallo! Ich heiße Ryan.  Wie heißt du?”

That awkwardness not withstanding, if you’re here, you’re probably wanting to learn a bit about me.

I am originally from North Dakota (yes, we have electricity and running water!), I like long walks on the beach and…wait! What site is this?! Now would probably be the appropriate time to introduce you to my sarcasm. Sarcasm, audience. Audience, sarcasm.

While I have been interested in photography for well over a decade, it has been only in the past five years (which happens to coincide with the purchase of my Canon EOS 3­­—funny how that works) that I blah blah… Part of me once aspired to be a landscape photographer, but the realist in me told that part to shut the hell up and to “Get a job you dirty hippie!”

Though I would like to say, “I don’t know that I can be categorized under any one specific genre,” I don’t hold any illusions that I’m that unique. With a brief glance through the galleries of my site, one could quickly label me a “nature photographer” (“…with bunny-rabbit ears.” – Eddie Izzard).

I have, what some may consider, an unholy obsession with Photoshop.  But I’ve come to terms with this and so should you.

Yeah, that’s probably inappropriate.

Originally I was going to fill this first post with something profound.  (Seriously, the first draft had the words “something profound” as a placeholder.)  But rather than put pressure on myself to be brilliant from the start, I figured I would set the bar low.

I thought it only fitting to start out by posting the image that the flag above was cropped from.  This is one of those images that I couldn’t adjust to my liking.  I was never really happy with any of the four previous versions, but this one is so close to that which I had imagined that I don’t know if I can make it better.  This is my painting.