jlw
Rangefinder camera pedant
Does anybody here besides me often have the experience of finding pictures in your "take" that you like, but which come as a complete surprise to you?
I mean, I used to try to give lip service to the whole Ansel Adams para-mystical concept of "previsualizing" -- the notion that if you're a good photographer, you can glimpse a scene and visualize exactly what your final image will look like, right down to the developing adjustments and darkroom techniques required.
Sounded impressive when I was an impressionable teenager, but I could never really get it to work. The more I tried to previsualize, the more I wound up with obvious, cliched, stilted pictures that I didn't like. Eventually I blundered into a working method that depends on my immersing myself in whatever I'm trying to photograph so that (while I try to be reasonably thoughtful about exposure and focusing and all) the actual decision to take a picture happens mostly on instinct, with no real thought. The main reason I gravitated toward rangefinder cameras was that they're "transparent" enough to facilitate this approach.
What got me thinking about all this was seeing this little picture, which jumped out at me when I was editing my shots from a museum opening the other night:
Nothing earth-shaking, but I liked it: the way it's basically a black-and-white picture varied only by a few colorful accents; the empty geometric space humanized by the mimes' forms; the expression and gesture; and especially the way the diagonal light pattern on the wall subtly sets the girls apart from their surroundings.
I would have been quite happy to give myself a pat on the back for catching and framing this little moment so nicely -- except that I have no recollection at all of having shot the dratted thing!
I remember encountering the mimes (who had been engaged to give a "French Quarter" touch to a touring show from the New Orleans Museum of Art), I remember following them around, and I remember that I took pictures of them -- but not what pictures. If I didn't always keep a pretty firm grip on my R-D 1, you might be able to convince me that someone had pinched it briefly, arranged the picture of the mimes, snapped it, and then sneaked the camera back into my possession.
Not that I feel in any way guilty about this. "Luck counts!" is about the closest thing I have to a photographic motto. And while depending on happy accidents is a bit stressful when you're trying to shoot professionally, I do get a kick out of being surprised by finding pictures that turned out better than anything I could have planned in advance. Seeing a picture like this makes me feel pretty much the same way I do when I make a "slop shot" playing pool -- a bit guilty, but also a bit delighted. (Good thing nobody can make you "call the pocket" in photography!)
Anybody else have any thoughts/examples on this? Do you get your best results by pre-planning every detail of your pictures? Do you try to plan your shots, but stay flexible enough to take advantage of the unexpected? Or do you, like me, just sort of "zone out" while photographing, and hope to be pleasantly surprised when you see the results?
I mean, I used to try to give lip service to the whole Ansel Adams para-mystical concept of "previsualizing" -- the notion that if you're a good photographer, you can glimpse a scene and visualize exactly what your final image will look like, right down to the developing adjustments and darkroom techniques required.
Sounded impressive when I was an impressionable teenager, but I could never really get it to work. The more I tried to previsualize, the more I wound up with obvious, cliched, stilted pictures that I didn't like. Eventually I blundered into a working method that depends on my immersing myself in whatever I'm trying to photograph so that (while I try to be reasonably thoughtful about exposure and focusing and all) the actual decision to take a picture happens mostly on instinct, with no real thought. The main reason I gravitated toward rangefinder cameras was that they're "transparent" enough to facilitate this approach.
What got me thinking about all this was seeing this little picture, which jumped out at me when I was editing my shots from a museum opening the other night:
Nothing earth-shaking, but I liked it: the way it's basically a black-and-white picture varied only by a few colorful accents; the empty geometric space humanized by the mimes' forms; the expression and gesture; and especially the way the diagonal light pattern on the wall subtly sets the girls apart from their surroundings.
I would have been quite happy to give myself a pat on the back for catching and framing this little moment so nicely -- except that I have no recollection at all of having shot the dratted thing!
I remember encountering the mimes (who had been engaged to give a "French Quarter" touch to a touring show from the New Orleans Museum of Art), I remember following them around, and I remember that I took pictures of them -- but not what pictures. If I didn't always keep a pretty firm grip on my R-D 1, you might be able to convince me that someone had pinched it briefly, arranged the picture of the mimes, snapped it, and then sneaked the camera back into my possession.
Not that I feel in any way guilty about this. "Luck counts!" is about the closest thing I have to a photographic motto. And while depending on happy accidents is a bit stressful when you're trying to shoot professionally, I do get a kick out of being surprised by finding pictures that turned out better than anything I could have planned in advance. Seeing a picture like this makes me feel pretty much the same way I do when I make a "slop shot" playing pool -- a bit guilty, but also a bit delighted. (Good thing nobody can make you "call the pocket" in photography!)
Anybody else have any thoughts/examples on this? Do you get your best results by pre-planning every detail of your pictures? Do you try to plan your shots, but stay flexible enough to take advantage of the unexpected? Or do you, like me, just sort of "zone out" while photographing, and hope to be pleasantly surprised when you see the results?
[Technical data, for those who like that sort of thing: Epson R-D 1, 35/1.2 Nokton, EI 1600, 1/350 @ f/1.2. Results enhanced slightly by Photoshop and considerably by blind luck.]
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