Lens Envy!

I miss being taken for a serious photographer. I mean, I do a half-decent job (if I may say so myself) of taking pictures, but nobody takes me seriously when I'm in the act. Of taking pictures, that is. I'm not talking about you guys reading this blog, or the ones looking at my collection online. I'm referring to complete strangers, the people that are around when you're trying to get into position for that perfect frame - the ones that move away from your field of view, the ones that point their own cameras hopefully in in the same general direction as you are, and the ones that feel flattered to be part of your composition, patting their hair and sitting up a bit straighter as your lens swivels in their direction.

Except, nobody does that any more, as far as I'm concerned. And the reason? Because ever since I went digital, nearly four years ago, I've been using a Canon A710. It's a great camera. Takes good pictures, you can zoom a decent amount and has a lot of the features an SLR has, like manual mode, aperture priority and all that. But it is not an SLR.

That works fine for me. SLRs are bulky, large pieces of equipment and need even bulkier bags to carry the accompanying extra lenses. That's what used to get me, earlier when I used to sport a film SLR. Now, my compact A710 does most things an SLR does (with a few notable exceptions), and fits nicely into my pocket most times. And it's hardy - it's taken knocks that, had they happened to a dSLR, would have had you on your knees, tears of remorse streaming down your face wishing you could turn time back just those few seconds.

But I've got to admit, hefting an SLR is something else. That macho little twist of your wrist as you cradle that 70 - 300 lens, that satisfying click as you press the shutter release, the array of buttons and controls that would confuse an airline pilot...with an SLR slung around your neck, you're the Aperturenator. And people respect you. They scuttle out of your way as you swing that barrel of a lens, then stand transfixed as you centre that little red laser dot between their eyes. People around you look on in awe, and tourists hesitatingly make their way to you to take their picture, as "you look professional".

Not so with a little compact. No matter what you do, people just think you're a bit weird. Or a tourist. Or both. At best, you're just another annoyance with a camera in the midst of many others, albeit one that acts weirder than the others by squatting, getting on all fours or taking inordinately long to focus. At worst, security people get a bit fidgety and (it's happened to me) ask you to delete your shots of their building / the general vicinity/ themselves. Possessing an SLR, on the other hand, gets understanding nods. After all, whoever heard of a terrorist who was a keen photographer as well?

But us little compact guys have our advantages as well - you're a sort of guerrilla, an ambush predator - take candid shots, for example - your subject wouldn't know what hit him in the time that you've palmed your camera, clicked and holstered it (okay, pocketed it). Nobody expects a guy in a suit to suddenly whip out a camera from an inner pocket and start clicking - you can flummox all those security types with your corporate camouflage. Also, compact users tend to be opportunists, taking pictures at random in all kinds of situations and environments, which are interesting in a way that does not necessarily involve technical perfection (which dSLR users, with their planned hunts, often achieve).

So...SLR or compact? The decision's yours! I don't mean to put either dSLRs or compacts down. I enjoy using my compact, but I know that sometime in the near future, I will succumb to the lure of a dSLR, fall in love with it, and spend endless hours tinkering with it and getting to know it. But my faithful little compact will always be somewhere handy.

Why I Love Bad Weather

It's gloomy and wet outside, as it has been for the last few weeks. And I love it. From a photographer's point of view, that is. I've long been of the opinion that bad weather is a photographer's best friend. Not for me those picture-postcard blue skies and blazing sunlight, or sunsets where the sun is a glowing billiard ball in an otherwise featureless sky (wait, I made that sound rather nice, didn't I?).

I mean, think about it. There's nothing more boring than a bright blue sky in a photograph that has a considerable portion devoted to the sky, unless you want to use it in a children's picture-book or something. In which case, you might as well photoshop a smiley face on the sun to go with it. On the other hand, add a few clouds to the picture, and it at once acquires some character, and, as Flickr would have it, "interestingness". And as far as glare and contrasts are concerned - don't even go there. We've all seen those washed-out skies or too-dark subjects because you couldn't appropriately capture one without messing up the other (yes, I know that's what graded filters are for, but hey, let's keep life simple). You don't usually have these issues when the horizon just separates two shades of dark.

Or consider urban photography. Say you're taking pictures of a great city at night. Those neon signs, those brightly-lit windows...and now think of the same picture after a shower leaves the city with wet streets reflecting those coloured lights in crazy patterns, where puddles reflect those twinkling windows, and headlights catch the spray from the cars in front. Or think of an everyday street, choked with commuters during rush hour. Pretty pedestrian, if you'll excuse the pun. But just a touch of rain, and out come the brollies, turning a rather ordinary scene into a heaving, jostling river of wet umbrellas. I know which one I'd rather snap.

Take this picture that I took in Brussels. It would have been interesting as a situation, with the guys' expressions and all that - but the wetness gives it a completely different feel and atmosphere.

There's something that the viewer feels as well, when looking at a picture taken in bad weather. It's hard to define, but something like a feeling of being glad to be safe indoors, a "I don't wish I were there" at the very least, and a feeling of exhilaration in some cases, faced with a stormy scene with lashing rain and lightning, for example.

The things one does in pursuit of that perfect picture!

Things One Sees

Spring's in the air. And not just the air, which is noticeably warmer, but on the ground as well. Like these snowdrops clicked with my phone camera while out walking. (Putting cameras in mobile phones was at once the best and worst idea ever, but that's for a separate post.) What I wanted to talk about was the things one sees, does and thinks about while taking pictures.

Whether you're out and about camera in hand, grimly determined to take a few award-winning shots, or just ambling about and happen to have something with a lens attached handy, it's a sure shot that you'll think about the places, objects and people in ways that have never crossed your mind before. Funny, sad, analytical...you get it all. Like when I was taking the picture of the snowdrops, it got me wondering why there were snowdrops on that particular bitof ground and nowhere else. A bit of looking around (wearing a wise expression), and I realised that that patch of ground was fairly high on a slope facing south; ergo, more sunlight, more warmth - and spring's come early for that patch of snowdrops.

Things can get funny too. I'll never forget this incident in a park a few years ago, looking up from a dense bush where I'd been taking a picture of a bug or something, to find myself face-to-face with a large Boxer, looking at me with an expression that seemed to say "Hey, what's in there, buddy? Anything good? Huh? Huh?". Had a bit of a chuckle with that one!

Guess when you look at something, really look, you start to wonder about it. How it works, why it (or they) is there, what makes it tick...and finding, or not finding the answers is a large part of enjoying photography.

A little more about snow...

To continue on the snow theme from the last post, (and before snow becomes a distant memory of last year), here are a couple of more tips to shooting the white stuff.

When you go out to take pictures of the snow, have you ever stopped to think of what it is that you're taking pictures of? Might sound a bit stupid, but bear with me. The obvious answer is "the snow". Yes, that's what your first reaction might be. But think about it - do you actually take pictures of the snow, or things in the snow? Or things on which there is some snow? Or even...things in the snow that have no snow on them? Not quite that simple now, is it?

The fact is, snow by itself is rather boring, as an image. It's what the snow does to the world around that's interesting. And if you want an interesting image, you'll focus on something - a house, an animal, a tree - that's in the midst of the snow. What you really want is a contrast to all that whiteness, something to draw the eye. That's why I think some of the most striking images of snow consist of an expanse of snow, with a contrasting object strategically placed in the frame. Check out this picture of a family that I took a couple of months ago, to see what I mean.

Also, something that I had touched on briefly in my last post was playing with the settings on your camera. Any time is a good time to do this, but you can get some spectacular effects when you're shooting snow. Here's an example of a shot I took last winter in Hyde Park - to be honest, it started as an accident, with an overexposed shot - and I liked it so much that I took a few more like it!

Moral: Wrong ain't always bad.

January brings the snow...

Autumn has passed, before I knew it, and given way to winter. Come to think of it, although it's only January, winter seems to be on the way out as well! So no more shots of trees in their fiery autumnal raiment, it's time to make the best of what winter provides. What does it provide, at least for the photographer? It can be difficult, depending on where you live. Over here in the UK, most of the time, one is confronted with bare trees, and little more of anything interesting. Sure, you can do a lot with bare branches, but what else is there?

Unless, of course, it snows! That's when every amateur (and pro) worth their salt go crazy, donning their cold weather gear to tramp out into strangely altered surroundings, shooting pictures of their homes, partners, children and the family dog smothered in the white stuff. And once those are done, one turns one's attention further afield, to the fields, roads and woods, perhaps on the way to work, or, more likely, because one is "working from home" as all transport links are down...

So what does one need to take half-decent pictures in the snow? Warm clothing, for one. Camera shake is a problem when you're shivering. And hands going numb can be a real problem - I've missed a couple of shots of moving things because I couldn't get my shutter finger to work! (And the agony when you thrust your hands back into your pockets and they start to thaw...!). Camera settings are important, too (if you're using a camera that has manual settings as an option, that is). Of these, the white balance is probably the most important. All that white snow, coupled with a typically grey sky, can do funny things to your image. Experiment with different white balance settings - some of them, depending on the ambient light, can help you capture a more realistic image than a "recommended" one. Of course, you might like the effects provided by a "non-realistic" setting - such as a cool blue tint, which immediately brings out the coldness of the surroundings in an image.

And it goes without saying that you need to be careful with exposures - all that whiteness again. The one advantage of snowy shots is that you don't often have to deal with overexposed skies or under-exposed foreground - the whiteness on the ground pretty much reflects what's in the sky - murky or dazzlingly bright. What if it's actually snowing, though? That's actually easier to deal with than rain - for one, it doesn't soak camera and lens as quickly and thorougly as water, so you can actually take your camera out for a minute or two before having to shelter it. And the relative slowness and size of snowflakes makes them easier to shoot. Depending on how long an exposure you set, you can capture an impression of falling snow with nice, slanting lines of white crisscossing your picture. The picture of the horses at the beginning illustrates just what I mean. That shot of mine, incidentally, was used by Ellenor Lions, a local charity, for their 2011 calendar.

However, don't completely dismiss your "auto" setting; on a recent trip to Iceland, it was so cold that I couldn't keep my fingers exposed any more, and had to put on my thick felt gloves with which all I could do was press the shutter release. So I set my camera to "auto" and hoped for the best - and nearly all the shots turned out surprisingly well, in many cases more balanced that the settings I would

have chosen - like this shot of Thingvellir National Park.


 

To sum up, when shooting in snow keep warm, protect your camera and play around with the settings. And don't be afraid to experiment! More on my "experiments" in my next post.

Chasing foxes in the morning

It’s been a while since I woke up at the crack of dawn. And even longer since I’ve managed to drag myself outdoors for a morning walk. But I did, this morning, camera in hand, and boy, was it worth it. It was a misty, cold morning, with few people around, and dewdrops on pretty much everything. I’m sure there are brilliant shots to be taken of dewdrops in the morning, but mine weren't anything to write home about...or blog about. Maybe with a better camera...an interesting observation, though – trying to capture the droplets at close range didn’t work as well as zooming in on them from further away. All about perspective, I suppose.

A few steps further on, I came across the horses that inhabit a fenced-off field beyond our place. As I fed one of them some grass (and tried to take a picture), something quick and red trotted quietly across the path. The fox!!

Now, about this fox. According to my other half, my reaction to it is like Spike the dog in the Tom and Jerry cartoons, when he can’t get his hands on Tom. Take a minute to picture that. My excuse is, I’ve been trying to get a picture of it for the last three years, and haven’t succeeded in getting more than a couple of grainy, blurred shots. He was just as elusive this morning, doing his usual thing, loping off into the distance and waiting, and running off as I got closer. I swear he strikes poses, just to taunt me - like he is in this blurry long-distance pic!

Anyway, to come to the point – the fact is, I really like taking shots of animals. And birds, and bumblebees and anything else that moves. They are almost invariably photogenic, and full of surprises.  If you want a better angle or pose, just wait a few moments and they change position. And you don’t have to be in a lean-to on the savannah; just go down to your local zoo, a nearby park, or even your backyard to get shots of some local wildlife.

Another interesting thing about animals is that they have personalities. No two of them ever behave in exactly the same way. I mean, you’d expect that in our close cousins, the gorillas and chimps, but others lower down the evolutionary scale show distinct individual traits as well. To go back to my friend the fox, his elusiveness is matched only by the tameness of one of his kin who drops in at a railway station nearby to accept titbits from passengers’ hands.

You do need a hell of a lot of patience, though. If you’re the fidgety type, or if your limbs have a tendency to cramp after a few minutes in one position, this might not be for you. But if you don’t mind waiting (and cramps, frozen fingers, eyes watering from looking into the viewfinder), animal photography is a rewarding experience.

A Day in Hyde Park - 2

Remember the photograph of the bench by the path in my last post? I put it up on Flickr, and a friend of mine posted some feedback about it that made me think. He said, next time I should try and take the shot from a lower perspective. I haven't been back to Hyde Park to try it, but there were other pictures I took that day from a fairly low perspective (the grass stains haven't come off my denims yet), and guess what? They do look good. Like this one:

Or this one:

Wonder what it is about these low perspective shots that is so appealing. I mean, with animals and kids, it's obvious - you're eye to eye with them, and so are the people viewing your photograph. With these shots here, guess it's the sense of distance and height and space that get captured. People like looking at huge, open vistas - I know I certainly do. So if you can't get a shot looking out over the Pacific or the Sahara -just flop down and press that shutter!

Here's a couple more similar shots to end with - which one do you think works better, the vertical one or the horizontal one? A lot of snappers seem to swear by one or the other. Me, personally, I like to try both when in doubt.