bradley hanson

It's good to see that some of you are looking for something as a source of knowledge and growth, and if photo.net can provide that for you, that's a great thing. If you're patient and willing to do a lot of wading, there is knowledge to be found here, in the midst of what seems to be an increasing amount of noise. I've found, in looking briefly through some of the threads all over the site, that personality issues and ego often dilute and in some cases, can even negate the value of the original question, issue or image. There seems to be a strong tendency towards adherence toward rules, something first learned in grade school art classes, reinforced later in future art education and endeavors. One of the things I've learned over the years is that it's important to learn these rules, so you can break them, either consciously or merely by the nature of your personal vision.

 

Personally, one of the things I don't see given enough attention on this site is the value of what Ralph Gibson calls a "visual signature". You can look through a number of portfolios, both online and in books, and see hundreds and hundreds of photographers all trying to hit the same target. To me, it's important that I personally distinguish myself not only in the way I conduct my photography business in terms of customer service, but with my personal approach to making images. In the words of an actor, "If you are not different from anyone else, who needs you?". Do we need any more shots of the Grand Canyon with Velvia and a warm polarizer?

 

In other words, if most of the images that people are pursuing are the usual rocks, flowers, trees, mountains and color-drenched landscapes that seem like most young photographers first pursuits, what's the point of looking at that photography, or even or taking those photographs, other than to say "You see, I can do exactly what is expected of me."

 

I'd guess that many of my favorite photographers (Lillian Bassman, HCB, Ralph Gibson, Elliott Erwitt, Sebastio Salgado, Anton Corbijn) wouldn't stand a chance against the Ansel Adams workshop filter that many young photographers apply to EVERY image, irrespective of it's content or it's perceived intent. I recently revisited many of my photographic books, and noticed something. Strict adherence to technical vision over the value of content means nothing. As one photographer put it "A sharp photo of a fuzzy concept is meaningless."

 

Most of my favorite photographers probably also had a heavy influence on me, and perhaps their irreverence toward technical pursuits in lieu of content rubbed off on me. Read any of the writings by Henri Cartier-Bresson; the photograph's composition, light and emotional content are everything. If you don't have something worthwhile to photograph, the rest is irrelevant. In Cartier-Bresson's book "Tete a Tete", which are his portraits of subjects such as Picasso, William Faulkner, etc, at least 1/3 of the images are not sharply focussed, or there is subject or camera movement. I'd say about 1/2 of them are clearly underexposed, based on the grain in the shadow areas and muted contrast. Who cares? The images are powerful, beautiful and timeless because he knew how to capture *something*.

 

In short, take a look at the rule-breakers as well as the more traditional photographers. What is it about each of them that you like? The answer to that will help guide your photographic journey toward your own personal vision. Blind adherence toward convention and rules only yields mediocrity, and there is no shortage of that.

 

One of the things I've learned in life, referenced also in the book "The Four Agreements" is that you can see someone's intent in the way they conduct themselves, and that as David Julian has noted, those who rant and rave the most often have mediocre skills. When someone appears to be frequently complaining, it tells you more about their personality and view of themselves than it does about the subject of their ire; if you are unhappy, it manifests itself in everything you do, particularly the way you see things and your ability to look for the good things in life. It's easy to be a movie critic, but rather difficult to write and direct a movie. Roger Ebert did that once...

Originally, I was attracted to this scene because of the unusual and dramatic lighting, which is pleasant byproduct of life in the Pacific Northwest. The background was dark (over Bainbridge Island in the distance) and the foreground was hazy but very bright. It looked like surreal cinematic lighting to me, which I enhanced further by pushing Tri-X one stop and using a medium yellow filter. It wasn't raining, nor did it look like rain, so it immediately struck me that the woman on the right was covering herself with an umbrella. I first took a shot of her, just on the right 1/4 of the frame, with a few of the omnipresent seagulls scattered on the left of the frame. I liked the cleanness of the shot, and stopped shooting. As I was putting my camera back into my Domke shoulder bag, I saw the couple on the left walk into the frame. I still didn't take my camera out until the seagulls came up to him. I immediately pulled out my camera, and when the gull was next to his hand, I composed and fired. The XPAN shutter release is smooth and quick, but still has a noticable lag compared to the Leica rangefinders, so this is probably 100ms later than I had originally intended. At the moment of the shutter release, who's sound was certainly muted by the wind and waves, the woman pulled away her umbrella, looking directly at me. At the time, I felt like this movement might have ruined what would have been a very Ingmar Berman/Seventh Seal film noir moment.

 

Honestly, I still feel that the shot would have been better if she had remained oblivious to me (and to the couple behind her), not to mention the fact that her movement caused me to jolt the camera just enough to tilt the horizon just enough to make it the topic of discussion. ;-) Like Tony, I prefer to print all of my images full frame (as evidenced by the thin black or sloppy borders, respectively), as that is how I shoot them to be seen. This particular image could not be printed full frame to level the horizon, nor could the two infrared shots (last in the folder) as the XPAN uses in infrared counter that fogs the bottom 15% of the film and sprocket holes as it advances infrared film.

 

In short, it is nearly always my intention to best capture real moments without direction or detection, which is precisely how I approach wedding photography, and why it continues to not only be rewarding for me, but a great source of practice as I am shooting 40 rolls of film every weekend, focusing manually and using manual exposure. This photograph did not come out *exactly* as I had envisioned it, but I still like it.

 

I shoot pushed Tri-X almost exclusively, in conjunction with Fuji Neopan 400, running them both in Rodinal as I prefer the enhanced contrast and slight boost in grain. To my eye, this photograph doesn't have my preferred tonality either, which I think is best exemplified in the image "Ferry worker resting", but it wasn't shot under ideal conditions, and I considered myself fortunate to have captured it at all.

Regarding the size of the image, I chose the original size out of courtesy to those with slower connections, and the understanding that most viewers use less than 1024x768 resolution, which is also why almost everything on my own website is 300 pixels long. I no longer have the image to scan as it's framed and hanging locally in a show, at least until the end of the month. I'm therefore limited to my original .TIF, scanned on a crappy HP ScanJet 5200c. FWIW, I do not recommend that scanner. It's knockin' on heaven's door, and clutching it's pacemaker, begging for a few more precious moments of life. I'm thinking about pulling the plug when no one's looking...

I'm thinking about rotating it 0.5 degrees counterclockwise every 24 hours, just to provide something else to discuss. It actually wasn't shot with an XPAN, but rather a Holga, which had such low resolution that I was able to cleverly disguise the wires holding the bird, and the slight beard growth on the man I hired to play the part of the woman with the umbrella. I thought it would pay off, but so far, the royalties haven't been enough to pay off the actors. I really didn't need to hire Gary Oldman to play the man on the left, but I wanted the best! All in all, a bad investment. Live and learn!