Untitled

I agree with everyone who didn't like the grey snow away from the center -- even if it's "the way it was" and not the result of post-processing, the darkish snow and the associated loss of contrast really destroys the winter forest feeling. I would probably call this picture underexposed and I would be willing to sacrifice some of the brightness gradient from the center to the borders, and maybe even sacrifice some highlights in the center in order to make snow freshly white and not dirty grey.

I am much less bothered by the centered/static character of the image. Not everything needs to be dynamic, tilted, unbalanced. This picture is in-your-face centered -- the arch, the light, the tree trunks, etc. -- and if that's what it wants to be, that's fine. For me the counterpoint to the balanced and unmoving composition is the fractal nature of the snowy branches which add... maybe not a dynamic, but sufficient nervousness.

The dog I don't think I care much about. It's just a marker for the center. There's no expression, no movement, no character. This is not a dog picture, this is a winter forest picture.

Evgeni, I'm one to whom process is an integral part of the photograph. Sometimes it may be a very small part, and at

other times it may be of larger significance. It does help me know that the light on the dog is the result in an opening of

the canopy, and a positive benefit of that is I can say your timing was right on. I also appreciate your overall attitude at

being subject to all of these comments, some positive and others not so positive. Your remarks reveal an open mind

and a degree of self-confidence that are very good personal qualities to have as a photographer.

I certainly agree with this, I use centered and formalistic compositions all the time. But these types of compositions only work if the main subject carries some weight--physically, psychologically and/or emotionally. An image can be quiet and static and work but here I think the dog just isn't up to the job of giving us what is needed from its role. I end up exactly with the feeling that "The dog I don't think I care much about."

Unfortunately, the dog is there and thus affects the reading of the image regardless of what else might have worked otherwise.

With the dog being the only vertebrate in the photograph, and with dogs described as "man's best friend," and with the dog centered in the photograph and in the only diffuse beam of light in the frame, it's only natural for human vertebrates to see this photograph as that of a dog in a winter woodland. There is no way to ignore the dog, no way to demote it to secondary importance in the photo, and to then call this just a "winter forest picture." It's a dog in a winter forest scene. I cannot see how it can reasonably be anything else.

Just a quick approximation of the what the picture would like if the dog weren't there, since it's been discussed. See attached.

First of all--dog. Is it a dog or a wolf? Whatever it is I like its presence as it transforms this from a a so-so cheap postcard winter scene into something dramatic. I also think however, that the post-processing is unnecessary and only fouls up the natural scene with with second rate pictorialism. This should be as close as the camera saw it. Manipulation only ruins an image if the photographer is not good at it. And this photographer is not good at it. He is good at creating natural photographic drama. Trust nature, artist.

Alex, it's a dog, and I'm not sure what you think has been manipulated. After feedback from Evgeni, I think this photo is pretty close to what the eyes saw.

Alex, the sides show light snow between the snow covered branches, dodging the center wouldn't create those light spots.

Obviously, any change to a photograph, particularly removing something, in fact changes what the photograph is and thus creates a completely different one, not a better one. But I do think we can look at the two similar images and see how the one without the dog does give a little more life to the image. As I said above, "I don't think it would be a particularly original image, but I think it would allow the viewer more access and maybe more visual freedom." And yes, it might be a bit more expected or even cliche but the reason images of unobstructed paths are popular is because they do allow people to go somewhere, to move beyond just looking. I think that is what happens in this case.

I think these two images provide a good comparison to how something relatively small can change how an image is read.

It’s hard to look at the version without the dog, after seeing the original picture, and not feel that something’s missing. But maybe that’s because I know that something used to be there.

I agree, Evgeni Donev, that I like your portfolio very much, and I think I find landscapes there that I prefer,also. But for this photograph, my first impression was that the animal was a wolf. I imagine the scene of a photographer perhaps walking on a path perpendicular to that wolf's, happened to spot him, and caught the photo. It was a more immediate photograph, a surprise in the woods, rather than a portrait of one's pet which atmosphere would allow a more relaxed attitude towards the subject and taking the photograph.
 
Then as I looked closer, I thought the solution to a problem I was seeing in the composition, was that the dog/wolf should have been smaller. His size fights with the photo as a whole. So, I changed the size of the animal and I think that was it for me. Now the subject is in a whole environment, part of it.

Looking again, I noticed the awful gray flatness of the foreground snow, the lack of any reflected light on it. Yes, in color, we would have seen a more full bodied foreground.  The natural vignette formed by the shadowy snow was too closed, and made to seem that way also by the size of the subject in the vignette. I tried to lessen the vignette by extending that middle light, horizontally, to the edge of the photograph. I think that opened the photo, but then again, yes, it was no longer the same photo.
 
Finally, for fun, and thinking of the photograph more as a portrait of a beloved pet, I opened up the whole scene to light. And maybe too light! But by that time, I wanted to get rid of all the grey snow anyway.
In some wonderful photos in your portfolio I see that you are not adverse to "playing" with your photographs. In this one for example:  http://photo.net/photodb/photo?photo_id=15128512   I really love that.
 

 
 
 
 
 

V Willendorf, I find the variations on this image quite intriguing. It very interesting how subtle changes in presentation can dramatically

change the mood of an image. I recommend individuals do this with their own work. I think it is good practice and also a good way to

amylose how subtle changes can bring out a different mood. Or take in an image.

I like how you varied the work to bring out the dog. As mentioned it seems close to what you likely saw with your eyes. The brighter version has some merit as well, almost can be pumped more to a higher key. I wish I had taken a capture of the moment, nice work.

The reaction to this image may vary depending on how often you have seen this type of scene. I won't say it is common around here; but it is not unusual. I might have a different reaction if I lived in Australia. I like this image as a portrayal of this type of natural environment; but, the natural environment is not unusual so it is not a dramatic image for me. Technically, I like the gradient of tones from edge to centre. Personal choice, I guess. If you like this scene, come to Canada and go on a snowmobile journey. It started at -33C here this morning.

IMO, this might be true in the case of postcards or snapshots. Too many good photographers have proven that even everyday subjects can be photographed in such a way as to show the viewer something new. It's why photos are (or at least can be) so much more than their subjects.

Very nice picture. It is about a person who are alone and walking on street to reduce his sorrows.

Incredible image! Truly some sweet B&W work!

Very well done and deserved, Evgeni.

Volker