Been There, Done That? Really??

Bolsa Chica Ecological Reserve is a nature reserve in the city of Huntington Beach, California.   It is designated by the California Department of Fish and Game to protect a coastal wetland, with its resident threatened and endangered species. "Bolsa Chica" means "little bag" in Spanish, as the area was part of a historic Mexican land grant named Rancho La Bolsa Chica.   The Reserve is also called many other names, including Bolsa Chica Lowlands, Bolsa Chica Wetlands, and Bolsa Chica Wildlife Refuge.

I’ve been to Bolsa Chica numerous times, but it is one of those places that’s different every time you go there.  For a fairly spartan wetlands area with mostly graded paths and channeled waterways, Bolsa Chica supports an amazing diversity of life.  And each visit to this backyard gem bring new opportunities for discovery…new birds, new activities, new experiences.  If you take your time, stay alert, and remain open to the possibilities, Bolsa Chica will open up her magic to your senses, and if you’re really lucky, to your camera as well.

I think we all have our “Bolsa Chica”.  By that I mean, those special places you like to go, that every time you’re there it’s different?  I’d love to hear your stories about such places and what about them makes it special for you…  

CostaMesaPhotography@gmail.com

And if you’d like to see more of my images from Bolsa Chica, check out...

http://www.costamesaphotography.com/The-OC-Orange-County/HB-Bolsa-Chica

Yuma, Arizona--A Special Place for a Special Reason

Have you ever been on a trip and either drove through a town, or stopped at a town and wondered to yourself, “why did people settle here”?  I ask myself that question a lot.  Sometimes a place is so beautiful in terms of obvious natural beauty that the answer is self-evident.  But what about those places where the answer is less obvious?

A recent example of this for me was Yuma, Arizona.  Yuma is tucked tight against the Arizona/Mexico border and is connected east and west by Interstate 8.  I’ve passed through Yuma several times, even stopped for gas, and have wondered, “why here”?   

I had an opportunity to address this question a month or so ago when I went to Yuma to visit for the first time.  One of my sons recently took a position there as an elementary school teacher, and this was my first chance to visit him there.

I knew I would take photographs on the trip so as I do with most of my photo shoots, I did some pre-planning; reviewing the “things to do” lists featured on tourist sites as well as researching this history of Yuma.  It is in this research that one learns why this seemingly desolate spot in the middle of an otherwise desolate desert would be chosen as a place to settle.

Early settlers traveling west had many barriers and obstacles to their journey, one of which was the Colorado River.  It turns out that Yuma was the only practical crossing point on the lower Colorado River and because of that, assured its importance as a transportation hub going back as far as records have been kept.  Some cities are formed because of their natural resources, but Yuma was established because of its critical and strategic location.  This aspect of Yuma’s significance, along with my Civil Engineering interesting in structures, and bridges in particular, drove my interest to photograph the railroad bridge.


The Southern Pacific was the first locomotive to cross the Colorado, on Sunday, September 30, 1877.  The railroad crossed the Colorado at Madison Street and was actually the third constructed at this site. The previous two, wooden framed and including a swing span near the Arizona shore to accommodate the steamboats of the day, were washed out in floods. Today little remains at this site—shown here is the present railroad crossing approximately .5 miles upstream.

Today, Yuma continues to have much to offer in terms of its strategic location, its commerce-centric role in Southern Arizona, as well as its natural beauty, recreational opportunities, and its cultural heritage.  If there was a lesson to be learned, it wasn’t so much that Yuma was a special place, but it was that everywhere is special in its own way if you’ll only take the time to discover why…

To see more images in my Yuma collection, visit my website gallery at:  http://www.costamesaphotography.com/Arizona/Yuma/

If you have comments or feedback, drop me a line at CostaMesaPhotography@gmail.com

What Are You Trying to Communicate?

Magic, beauty, rage, simplicity, love, loneliness, compassion, awe, inspiration…  These are just a few of the myriad of ideas and feelings that we can have in response to our environment and what’s in front of us.  In general, as an artist, a photographer, is attempting to capture, portray, and communicate ideas, thoughts, and feelings to the viewer, expressing them in a static, flat, and graphic medium.

 

In so much of life, communication is everything.  Getting clarity around the message you have to convey first, and then finding a way to have that message received without interference, nuance (or “spin”), or diminishment.  Our five senses each bring their own unique contribution to communication, but our challenge as photographers is to accomplish this entire feat with an image.

 

It’s often said that a picture is worth a thousand words.  Apparently this phrase had its origin in the early 1900s but is likely traceable to even earlier philosophers.  It’s a phrase that we as photographers gravitate to because it adds weight to the value of what we do from a visual/pictorial standpoint.  Writers have axioms like “the pen is mightier than the sword” to evoke the power that that form of communication has.  Curiously enough though, pictures were the first graphic, or written language.

So as we think, plan, envision, pre-visualize, and compose our images, what is in our mind from a communication standpoint?  Is it something overt that we are trying to use an image to evoke, or is it the other way around, where we have an emotional reaction to a scene and simply want to “bottle it” by committing it to a photograph?  Either way, the communication must be clear and uncluttered, much as the image itself must be clear and uncluttered.  Photography is not an additive art like painting where a canvas begins blank and paint is added.  Rather photography can be thought of as a subtractive process, where an entire scene is systematically reduced through selective decisions and composition, until only the essential elements for the communication are included.  Of course, for that to be taking place, the photographer must have in mind what the message is, consciously or subconsciously.

As viewers of other photographer’s work, we transition from being the “sender” to being the “receiver.  Now we must attempt to derive the message that the artist was intending to communicate.  The various elements and characteristics within the image are all clues for us.  Spending time in this mode will not only give us an appreciation for the skills and artistry of other photographers, but will also help us improve and hone our own communication skills when we return to being the “sender”.

The Gift

One of my very good friends, in life as well as in photography, had a book sent to me that he had come across and thought I would enjoy.  It is called “500 Cameras—170 Years of Photographic Innovation” by Todd Gustavson.  I’d not heard of the book, but one look at its contents and I could see that it was a treasure trove of both the pictorial and narrative history of cameras. 

In my study, I have up high on a shelf those cameras which I have used in my life, along with several I’ve received from my parents, and a couple more that have been gifts.  Beyond this small collection of cameras, I really know very little about the history of cameras, or even the history of photography for that matter.

When we get that first camera, or maybe that first “real” camera, it’s easy to think that that’s the beginning.  But I realize of course that in the larger context of my photographic knowledge and experiences, I’ve really only started in the middle.   And as much as I strived to move forward, improving my skills, understanding, knowledge, and techniques, I recognize that there is at least an equal amount of learning that lies behind me, i.e. in the history of photography.  In pursuit of my photographic passion, I seek out lectures, videos, tutorials, articles, etc, from current masters and artisans, but have come to the realization that I’m missing much in the way of foundation.  For it is this foundation which provides the stronger context to better understand equipment, techniques, and the very art and language of design that’s needed for impactful image creation…what we simply call photography.

There is a certain respect and reverence that I believe one should have for those who have gone before…carving paths, breaking down barriers, solving technological problems, etc…, and that respect can best be given by learning more about the early pioneers of photography and how they approached there craft.  Learning about their tools and their inherent challenges will no doubt stand in stark contrast to the almost miraculously versatility and power of the hardware and software tools we now have at our disposal.

Every now and then it takes a little kick, or jolt, to move us off our “automatic” frame of mind and get us to look at, and think about, things differently.  Receiving this book from my friend will help me do that…what a terrific gift to receive.

Could You Repeat that Please?

I have to admit it; I’ve been very close to being taken in by the latest fad in photography.  I'm calling it a fad, but I just think it’s more of a contagion…a contagion of fancy talk.  Politicians can be known to do this when describing something quite ordinary but making it sound quite extraordinary.  This same practice has crept into our photography and utilizes subleties designed to differentiate the elitists from the more pedestrian (or “amateur”) photographers.  When someone asks if you shoot “raw”  or if your gear is "full frame”, they may really want to know, or they may be trying to send a message.  But if they ask whether you create photographs or simply shoot pictures, their question is dripping with superiority.

It is this esoteric distinction between "shooting pictures" and "creating photographs" that I’ve been noticing has crept into our vernacular.  I recently watched a video where a photographer was speaking in hushed and reverent tones as he referred to his craft of creating photographs…and he went on to say it was much more than simply taking pictures.  Really?  To me it sounded a bit self-aggrandizing?

In the simplest terms, you press the shutter to record the light entering the camera through the lens.  You’re recording that light either on film or on a digital sensor.  You then transfer that information by some method to another media that allows people to see what it is that you captured.  So what’s all the hub bub about this “making” versus “taking”, the “creating” versus the “capturing”?  Is it just the artistry of language or is it the “politics” of photography?

I have to admit I was nearly taken in by it all.  Shoot and shot, capture and take, I’d begun to accept that they’re simply too barbaric to describe the artistry that I bring to my photography.  I too should talk that way.  And maybe a fancy accent would add some mystique! But in reality, outside of photographers who use this language with each other, we must sound a little goofy when talking to “normal” people!

When we tell our friends we spent the afternoon making photographs, they probably conclude that we were either in a darkroom (if they know what that is), or that we were simply at Costco picking up prints!  If you say you were shooting pictures, capturing images, etc., they know we were out with the camera doing our thing.  And isn’t this what communications is all about—we say stuff so other people understand what we mean?  Of course photography is a craft, people get that.  It’s an artistic expression, and it’s our passion—people get that too.  Do we really need to load up the language with euphemistic phrases that try to elevate the importance of what we do, when all it really does is make our communication more ambiguous and less understandable? Photography is rich with possibilities and offers a beautiful way to “speak” about life and nature...to describe, persuade, and inspire…like a song with visual notes.

So in the interest of clarity, from now on, when I say I’m taking pictures, shooting pictures, and capturing images you should expect to find me with my camera in my hands.  And when I say I’m editing or processing images, you can expect to find me in front of my computer.  And if by some chance you catch me saying that I’m creating photographs, then please stop me and say "excuse me?".

Manual Focus--With an Emphasis on "Manual"

I once heard that for someone considering buying a new camera, and unsure what brand to buy, the best advice given is to buy what your friends have.  There are a variety of reasons for that, but the two biggest are built in tech support and potential for equipment sharing and advice (a variation of tech support).

Enough can’t be said for having a circle of photography friends that you can rely on for help and for partnering when going out to shoot pictures.  It’s when these friends also have the same brand camera as you (or maybe even the same model) that you find how much knowledge and experience can be drawn from each other. 

A friend of mine just recently bought into a new brand, the same brand that I have, and he purchased the same model camera as well.  He wanted to get together right away so he could set his camera up with the same settings that I had settled on for my camera.  As anxious as I was to share what I knew get him up and running with his new camera, I strongly encouraged him to read the manual first, determine what settings he thought he should use, and THEN let’s get together and compare notes.

This approach has two obvious benefits… First, he learns about his own camera and doesn’t just blindly copy the same settings I’ve chosen.  But second, and this is a selfish reason, is that I recognize that I’m not the expert on everything (might not actually be an expert on anything), and by him reading the manual, he’d be in a position to point out things that I might not know.  Another saying I’ve heard that I really like is, “there is more I don’t know than I do know”….profound in its humility.

The payoff for this strategy was huge when this last weekend my friend made a casual observation about his camera.  He was using a very old lens that would still fit on the camera, but not take advantage of automatic focusing when he remarked that an indicator light came on when the subject was in focus.  At first I didn’t understand what he meant, and then coolest “aha moment” occurred.  The tip was this… when shooting with a lens in manual focus mode, one way (the most common way) that people determine if something is in focus is simply by looking at the scene and making a visual judgement.  My friend pointed out that if you hold the shutter half-way down when doing this, a small indicator light shows up to signal when the subject has come into focus…wow, that’s huge!  No more guessing based on visual observation!

Yes, I’ve gone back and looked and the manual, and this “tip” couldn’t be more obvious…it’s in the second paragraph on the page that discussing manual focus.  I’ve read my manual, but missed this—probably because I had modern lenses and expected that I’d be using auto focus most of the time.  I know though that there are probably many other things in my manual that I’ve missed.  Reading, and periodically re-reading operating manuals, especially for complicated instruments such as cameras can be an invaluable way to help ensure you know how to use your equipment and maximize its capabilities and features.

And surrounding yourself with photography friends who like to learn and like to share is a wonderful habit to be in.

Indoor Concert Photography--Game On!

One of the more flattering requests I’ve received was one recently from my own son whose band was preparing for a show at a local joint.  The request wasn’t just to attend, which was certainly the invitation, but it was with the additional request to bring my camera and take pictures.  In fact, my son said his band members had requested that I bring my camera…flattering, for sure.

No, they don’t follow my blog, nor my photostream, nor my website gallery—they don’t really know what my photography looks like, but they do know I take pictures because I’ve taken pictures of them before when they’ve been practicing around the house They were confident they’d get better pictures than what their friends had been shooting on the cell phone cameras at other their other performances—and that confidence hooked me.

You’d think I’d been given the assignment to shoot the Beatles, or maybe someone a bit more contemporary, but still famous, as I was nervous and excited about the challenge of meeting the expectations the band now placed into my hands.  I’d never been to the venue before, so I had my son describe how it was set up, and in particular, what my range of motion would be and what proximities I’d have to the band, the audience, the mixer, etc…   Folks, I’m sorry to say this was the limit and extent of my venue planning.  Sure, on a “real” assignment, I’d go down there, test angles, test lighting, etc…but hey, this was for fun, so cutting corners seemed reasonable!

I made several decisions ahead of time regarding gear.  First of all, I was not going to take a flash.  I like existing light photography, and I didn’t want to be drawing attention to myself with a flash going off every 2 seconds.  Second, I was going to take a single lens, my 18-200mm.  Lazy choice, maybe, but I knew that it would give me the full range of coverage that I anticipated I would want, plus I didn’t want to be fooling around with carrying extra gear and changing lenses—I was going into an unknown situation and wanted to minimize the variables.  The only drawback to this decision was that the 18-200 is not particularly fast, having a range of 3.5-5.6.  My plan to make up for this lack of speed of course was to crank up the ISO, the third leg of the exposure triangle.  I was willing to accept the grain that comes along with a high ISO in exchange for reasonably sharp images that a faster shutter speed would allow me to capture.  As they say, I’d rather have a grainy image than a blurry one. 

So my plan was set.  And you know what?  My plan worked as far as I was concerned, and based on the feedback I received from the band members (my ultimate “client” for the shoot), I’d say a resounding success.  I also learned a great deal about how I’d approach my next indoor concert assignment.  And this learning is what I would say is basic about any photo shoot you might plan if going to somewhere new.  Number one, find out as much as you can about the physical nature of where you’re going, whether that’s inside or outside.  Obviously if it’s a travel destination, you won’t be able to go there ahead of time, but you can research what others have done, and prepare yourself that way.  In terms of more local venues, if it’s important to get the images right, then go there ahead of time and scout things out.

Second, if you have the luxury of bringing more gear than you might need, either because you can carry it on you with a strap or bag, or if you can store it in a room or vehicles nearby, then do so.  Circumstance can change, and having the right gear with you gives you the change to adjust on the fly.  Gear back at home does you no good if you can’t get at it.

And lastly, if you’re doing the shoot for a “client” (as I was sort of), talk to them in detail, in advance to get a sense of what they envision as an end product.  They may not know angles, composition, or other technical aspects of what you do, but they will be able to convey the feelings, or end-use of the imagery that you’ll be creating.  This information will be invaluable to you while you’re in the middle of the creative process during your shoot.


My final take-away from this experience was feeling the exhilaration that comes from the challenge of putting oneself in a situation that’s not your norm.  It offered, or forced, a different kind of thinking, planning, and visualizing that invigorated my photography.

The full collection of images from this concert can be viewed on my website gallery at http://www.costamesaphotography.com/Events-and-Ceremonies/Mesa-at-Midnight--Tiki

And if you have comments or suggestions, I’d love to hear from you at CostaMesaPhotography@gmail.com