There is nothing interesting to photograph around here!

[f16sunshine]

I find myself looking for something different to photograph, or the need to go to an unfamiliar or exotic location to get inspired. Can't say "there is nothing to photograph around here!" as people are always photographing in front of my house. From front of my house. Back yard

Beautiful!

Your bear looks cute and chill.
My bear experience last week was a sow and 2 cubs killing our poor goat Hickory. 🙁
I have pics but not as clear and in focus.

 

[Chriscrawfordphoto]

Too right Chris. I live in Olympia, the capital of Washington state. Depending on where I stand (sometimes it has to be the middle of a road) and with a 200mm lens I can make the capitol dome appear to rise out of a dense forrest. Until just last year I lived just a block south of the capitol grounds and observed hundreds of tourists every year taking pictures from the same few perspectives, but as a resident and retired I have time to scout the whole area for somewhat more interesting angles. Sure, some of these are with up to a 400mm lens but many, perhaps half are with a standard angle lens. Strangely, even for downtown with crowded buildings I don't find much use for a wide angle shorter than 35mm.

Would be interesting to try a 400mm super-tele for urban photography! I shot my photo of the gravel lane in Ft. Wayne with a standard 75mm lens on a Mamiya 6. I tend to use standard and wide lenses a lot more than teles.

 

[farlymac]

I'm from Indiana, from a town much smaller than Ft. Wayne, and I totally get what Chris is doing (to bad we couldn't get together last year).

What I tell folks who are in the doldrums is to go outside, and start at their feet. Observe where they are standing; is there something crawling around down there, or a bit of something remaining of a child's toy? Then expand their vision up and outward in small chunks, say starting just a few feet away. Is the light shining through the leaves on a tree? If it's winter, is there snow piled on the limbs? Look up and down the street; any interesting cars parked by the curb? Is there a really good perspective shot of the lamp posts?

Sometimes one just has to reboot the mind to see what is right there in front of them.

Colton has the right attitude. There are photos just waiting to be taken everywhere you look.

PF

 

[Darthfeeble]

"Many look, few see", dunno who said that but it is pretty true.

 

[Leica All Day]

I grew up in a mid size town in south Florida and I moved to California right after high school so I could go to university. I love living in interesting places for more reasons than one. I just so happen to live in a small-mid size town an hour outside of Bangkok these days, it is nothing like Bangkok, but it still has that "exotic" feel to it. SimonSawSunlight came out here last month and stayed with me. When I look at the amazing photos that he took out here, they remind me of how awesome this place really is.

I love to travel, so I try to visit as many interesting places as I can. I took this photo last week in Jaipur, India with my Iphone.

[/url]Jaipur, Rajasthan, India by

Coming from where I grew up and where I live now, there aren't any camels on the streets, so when I see things like this, I feel "creative" and try to capture something interesting.

cheers, michael

edit, not that it is important but I took this with an iphone and an olloclip attached lens

 

[Tim Murphy]

I find myself looking for something different to photograph, or the need to go to an unfamiliar or exotic location to get inspired. Can't say "there is nothing to photograph around here!" as people are always photographing in front of my house.

From front of my house.




Back yard

Dear Steve,

You and I would get along just fine.

Regards,

Tim Murphy 🙂

 

[rogue_designer]

It's easy to forget to really *look* at what surrounds us everyday. I have to actively remind myself to look deeper, or look differently.

 

[Nowhereman]

Guys, platitudes are easy: we say, "there is always something beautiful to photograph;" or "beauty can be found in ugly scenes;" or "one only has to look to see;" or, whatever, on and on — and then comes the camel in post #25 to blow all that out of the water; but, then, consider that someone else said, that a "new place is easy, very easy." But isn't that in itself a platitude?

To see that there is no easy way out, at home or when traveling, you may want to read Teju Coles’ engaging and thought provoking essay on the nature of travel photography, Far Away From Here, which has the subtitle "In travel photography, as in writing, there's no shortcut to finding your own voice." Here is a long quote, although the whole article makes for rewarding reading:

Baedeker was already able to state, in that early guide to Switzerland, that places like the Rigi, the Brünig and the Scheideck were on ‘‘beaten tracks.’’ By the 1880s, Switzerland was estimated to be receiving a million visitors a year. Travelers tend to go where other travelers have gone, and perhaps this is part of the reason travel photography remains in thrall to the typical. When you do visit Zurich or Cape Town or Bangkok, they are very much alike: The amusement parks have striking similarities, the cafes all play the same Brazilian music, the malls are interchangeable, kids on the school buses resemble one another and the interiors of middle-class homes conform to the same parameters.

This doesn’t mean the world is uninteresting. It only means that the world is more uniform than most photo essays acknowledge, and that a lot of travel photography relies on an easy essentialism. I like Italo Calvino’s idea of ‘‘continuous cities,’’ as described in the novel ‘‘Invisible Cities.’’ He suggests that there is actually just one big, continuous city that does not begin or end: ‘‘Only the name of the airport changes.’’ What is then interesting is to find, in that continuity, the less-obvious differences of texture: the signs, the markings, the assemblages, the things hiding in plain sight in each cityscape or landscape. This is what outstanding photographers are able to do, and it is the target the rest of us chase.

The question I confronted in Switzerland is similar to that confronted by any camera-toting visitor in a great landscape: Can my photograph convey an experience that others have already captured so well? The answer is almost always no, but you try anyway. I might feel myself to be a singular traveler, but I am in fact part of a great endless horde. In the 1870s, Mark Twain was already complaining: ‘‘Now everybody goes everywhere; and Switzerland, and many other regions which were unvisited and unknown remotenesses a hundred years ago, are in our days a buzzing hive of restless strangers.’’

But ambition always comes to darken your serenity. Technically proficient mountain pictures were good, but I also had to develop my own voice. In photography, as in writing, there’s no shortcut to finding that voice. I could not decide ahead of time that I would take only ugly pictures or only beautiful ones, or that everything would be in focus or blurred, or that I would use only color or only black and white. I had been thinking about landscape, I had been exploring color film for a few years, I was drawn to abstraction, and a certain gentle surrealism to be found in the attitude of objects. But there then followed a situational focus, a sensitivity to what the environment gave me.

And a few paragraphs later he writes:

Along the way, I felt the constant company of doubt: my lack of talent, my impostor’s syndrome, my fear of boring others. Every once in a great while, there was finally a superb picture, but when I looked at it the following week, I would see that it actually wasn’t very good: too obvious, too derivative. Three thousand photographs and three thousand doubts.

 

[OurManInTangier]

It is just harder to approach it locally. New place is easy, very easy.

In my experience that's often the cruel trick. I come back from some exotic place pleased with myself and my interesting new shots only to realise much later, that the same bad photo ratio exists. I was just blinded by the new views.

 

[Richard G]

Home: work, family, the too familiar.
Travel: The new, no work, family and you swimming the same stream. Or they're just swimming. It's easier.

 

[Chriscrawfordphoto]

The key, I think is that you must have something to say. Most photographers don't. Its just about taking pretty or 'striking' photographs. These are often empty because there was no 'voice' in them.

Nowhereman's quote from Tegu Coles points us in that direction.

I don't go looking for interesting things to photograph, or pretty scenes or beautiful light. I have a story to tell, and I go looking for the illustrations for that story.

 

[Nowhereman]

The key, I think is that you must have something to say. Most photographers don't. Its just about taking pretty or 'striking' photographs. These are often empty because there was no 'voice' in them.

Nowhereman's quote from Tegu Coles points us in that direction.

I don't go looking for interesting things to photograph, or pretty scenes or beautiful light. I have a story to tell, and I go looking for the illustrations for that story.

That is true and well said. But I hasten to add that "telling a story" is not the only way. In putting together a photo essay, most photographers form their sequence as a "narrative;" but if you look at Ralph Gibson's books you can see that he doesn't tell a story; often he sequences his photographs in a "poetic" way — hard to describe because his books work the way a poem does; that is to say, the combination of form and content create a meaning, without telling a story. Jörg Colberg writes about a similar idea in his essay, Why does it always have to be about something?. Worth reading. Another way of finding a voice.

 

[Richard G]

That is true and well said. But I hasten to add that "telling a story" is not the only way. In putting together a photo essay, most photographers form their sequence as a "narrative;" but if you look at Ralph Gibson's books you can see that he doesn't tell a story; often he sequences his photographs in a "poetic" way — hard to describe because his books work the way a poem does; that is to say, the combination of form and content create a meaning, without telling a story. Jörg Colberg writes about a similar idea in his essay, Why does it always have to be about something?. Worth reading. Another way of finding a voice.

Well said yourself, Nowhereman. And who here is more aptly named to comment in this thread. Narrative is indeed not the whole story, if you'll forgive the inversion. Ralph Gibson is indeed an excellent example. Those photographs which move beyond mere depiction are some of the most exciting. Paul Strand had that early. It is what interests many of us on RFF the most. And it is independent of place.

 

[ernstk]

I really don't have much regard for Coles' way of thinking, or indeed his photography but that's just my opinion.

I think rather than having something to say, you need to have something to 'see'. It's about how you view things or events. I'm not convinced by the view that you have to make a statement.
When I walk around a city, whether it's my own or a new one, I always see it differently when I have a camera with me.

Given the constantly shifting dynamics of our streets, there is always something new happening.

I really like the comment by Garry Winogrand 'I photograph something to find out what it will look like in a photograph' (apologies if that's not word perfect). For me, this captures the essence of photography and it's so simple that sometimes we overlook it.
As photographers, we can reflect reality or a view of reality. We are not painters who can create a scene, or create a new reality; we reflect (with some degree of control) what already exists. And that's our challenge - how we make our mark on something that's already in place, already existing, or already happening.
If in your own mind, this equates to 'making a statement' then that's fine but it's not quite how I see it.

 

[dave lackey]

Well, absolutes in statements are kinda hard to prove IMO. However I agree with the OP... creativity knows no bounds in general but there is point at which creativity cannot co-exist with reality. There are folks who are housebound with all kinds of health problems. And financial difficulties. And depression. And the list goes on.

Here in our little home, my environment for the last eight years has been the same three rooms every single day broken only by 100 mile commutes to hospitals, doctors and hundreds of rehab therapies. I cannot imagine being a patient/survivor in our situation but I can tell you as a sole 24/7 caregiver, it is overwhelming in every respect.

Creativity? Most days I don't give a damn. So there is literally nothing to shoot.

However I carry one of two bags with me to keep meds and personal items at the ready. They are Billingham bags, either a Leica bag with the M6/X1 or the Pro bag with the F6. I rarely used them.

A year ago, I began to see some amazing transformations in rehab with our third program at Emory... my dear bride was making amazing progress recovering from two strokes and a subdural hematoma. Our therapist is exceptional! She uses traditional therapies and non-traditional therapies such as yoga and meditation and she also is the most hands-on therapist I have seen over the last six years, putting her body in amazing positions to be sure her patient gets the most out of each exercise and therapy. The results have been stunning.

So, creativity was renewed!

I am now developing, scanning and processing hundreds of film images and many digital images need to be processed. Why? Because I see a need to publish a photographic essay of Linda's struggle to live and her fight for recovery. The book will be completed this year, leather bound with both black and white and color images but with a substantial story written to provide the viewer the essence of living with defeat and overcoming defeat through determination and the sheer love of life.

This project has already expanded... I am now working on a prequel...

So, back to the OP's original post, yes, I agree that there is always something to shoot, but without opportunity for physical, mental, emotional and spiritual freedom, a photographer has a much more difficult task than simply releasing a shutter.

 

[bmattock]

Dave, I wish the best for your bride.

 

[kossi008]

In my experience that's often the cruel trick. I come back from some exotic place pleased with myself and my interesting new shots only to realise much later, that the same bad photo ratio exists. I was just blinded by the new views.

Happens to me all the time. When I'm abroad, I "take pictures". Back home, I often find them bland, and I can't go back and repeat.
When around my neighborhood, I "make studies". I can always come back in different light, or look for a different angle...

 

[Oscuro]

Well, absolutes in statements are kinda hard to prove IMO. However I agree with the OP... creativity knows no bounds in general but there is point at which creativity cannot co-exist with reality. There are folks who are housebound with all kinds of health problems. And financial difficulties. And depression. And the list goes on. Here in our little home, my environment for the last eight years has been the same three rooms every single day broken only by 100 mile commutes to hospitals, doctors and hundreds of rehab therapies. I cannot imagine being a patient/survivor in our situation but I can tell you as a sole 24/7 caregiver, it is overwhelming in every respect. Creativity? Most days I don't give a damn. So there is literally nothing to shoot. However I carry one of two bags with me to keep meds and personal items at the ready. They are Billingham bags, either a Leica bag with the M6/X1 or the Pro bag with the F6. I rarely used them. A year ago, I began to see some amazing transformations in rehab with our third program at Emory... my dear bride was making amazing progress recovering from two strokes and a subdural hematoma. Our therapist is exceptional! She uses traditional therapies and non-traditional therapies such as yoga and meditation and she also is the most hands-on therapist I have seen over the last six years, putting her body in amazing positions to be sure her patient gets the most out of each exercise and therapy. The results have been stunning. So, creativity was renewed! I am now developing, scanning and processing hundreds of film images and many digital images need to be processed. Why? Because I see a need to publish a photographic essay of Linda's struggle to live and her fight for recovery. The book will be completed this year, leather bound with both black and white and color images but with a substantial story written to provide the viewer the essence of living with defeat and overcoming defeat through determination and the sheer love of life. This project has already expanded... I am now working on a prequel... So, back to the OP's original post, yes, I agree that there is always something to shoot, but without opportunity for physical, mental, emotional and spiritual freedom, a photographer has a much more difficult task than simply releasing a shutter.

Dear David,
My wife and I send you best wishes for you and your wife. There is nothing more important than each other.
Monsieur et Mme. O.

 

[Prest_400]

Sometimes the creative bug gets away at the worst possible time.

I once drove three hours to take night photos in an old industrial city full of wonderful night scenes. But somehow during the long drive I lost the muse and so when I got there and drove around aimlessly and didn't find a single thing to photograph. Got home around 2 AM tired and frustrated. But I've since returned a couple times and done well, so clearly its a situational and attitudinal thing.

That happens. I just came back from doing a 2 city day trip. Afternoon in Barcelona. I'm very familiar with the city, and today it's bustling with the yearly book fair and I looked forward to shooting ops. However I was quite worn out and didn't have the drive to shoot. I'd have to wait until evening for nicer light but I was so tired I just left after a brief stroll around.
Later it rained heavily, so perhaps I did the right thing.


Nowadays I tend to do "location scounting" and a prior visit to locations if possible. That makes me familiar, finds possible frames and wears off novelty that might = good shot, when in fact novelty may lead to bland shots.

Looking at shadows and moments do have a lot of importance. The last street of my neighborhood borders with a road, and on the other side there's a creepy tree. Did a long exposure with car trails and the darkness of the mountain in the background... Much more interesting. That tree has been there as long I can remember!

 

[mfogiel]

Hmmm...

https://www.artsy.net/artwork/george-tice-hay-fork-landcaster-pa

http://www.artic.edu/aic/collections/artwork/50157

https://www.sfmoma.org/artwork/39.208

And then there's that most expensive photo that resembles a lot a broken TV:
http://www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/gursky-the-rhine-ii-p78372
now THAT one was really not worth taking - but it paid off handsomly 😀