I generally refrain from commenting in the Crit section not because I am afraid of hurting people's feelings (though I hope I am capable of phrasing my crit in a way that wouldn't hurt feelings) but for the following two reasons:
95% of the photos require exactly the same crit. This would get boring very quickly. The basics of the standard crit would read:
Why did you take this picture? What was it about the view/object/person/scene/situation that caught your eye and made you want to photograph it/them? The overwhelming impression that I get is that you have not thought about what what you are doing or why. You seem to have taken the picture simply because you have seen others just like it and you believe it is the sort of picture you should take when you practice Photography. A photograph - when not being done for commercial purposes and if it is to have any real meaning - should be a personal response to a situation/subject that gives the viewer at least some idea of what it was you felt about the scene or saw in the object. When taking a picture you therefore need to think a little about what you want the viewer to experience so that you can use PoV, lighting, composition and all the other tools of the trade as a means of conveying this. Go and reshoot it with this in mind and then come back so that we can discuss ways of you improving your communication skills.
The second reason is that I know from experience that when I give some serious advice about improvement the student is either incapable or unwilling to accept that I know what I am talking about. They honestly believe that talking about anything other than getting the right exposure or straightening the verticals is a load of b*llocks and just so much hot air. But then they wonder how it is that some people seem to be able to take brilliant pictures that hold their attention whilst theirs are, even in their estimation, just not very good.
At the risk of going on at length (if anyone complains I'll just edit it out ;-) ), a little anecdote. This was the very first crit I received when I was at College and it still stands in my mind as the best and most effective print crit anyone could give a novice - it sure taught me a lot and made me think long and hard.
The first day of the Photography course we were all given a film and sent out to take pictures, the aim being to learn about processing and printing b&w. The brief was to find some shots that we thought were interesting and practice our embryonic skills. Just because it was a technical exercise we were still told to try and take the best picture we could. There would be individual crits at the end of the week.
Naturally we all went out with the intention of taking the best picture in the world so that we could impress the tutors and our fellow students with our abilities.
The College was at Bournemouth - a rather beautiful seaside resort on the South coast of England - and a ten minute walk from the cliffs and beach. An amazing place for photo opportunities especially in the glorious late Summer sunshine.
We did the business and went through the darkroom and I produced what, to my mind, was the best picture I had ever taken. Perfectly exposed and printed, it was a picture of two deck-chairs on the beach, the wind blowing the canvas seats and the sun making interesting shadows.
I went into my crit at the end of the week feeling bouyant and supremely confident.
My two tutors, Tony and Paul, looked impassively for about ten seconds at the print I put on the table, then Tony looked bored and started cleaning his nails. Paul started rolling a cigarette. After a minute or two's silence, Tony glanced up and saw I was still there. "Show him", he said to Paul. Paul, without looking, opened a drawer and, pulling out a huge wad of prints, dumped them on the table and went back to cigarette rolling. Every single print was an almost identical picture to mine - and there were about a hundred. "Never mind, mate," said Tony. "Everyone does that the first time. Send the next one in."
I left the room with my ego totally crushed. But then I started to think. The pictures represented years of students taking the same picture, going through the same crit proceedure that I had, and suffering the same fate. And they had probably felt exactly the same as me at every stage - and I knew, too, that I wouldn't be the last.
That weekend I thought long and hard about me, my pictures and Photography having learned one of the most valuable lessons of my life.
On the Monday Paul came up behind me and slapped me on the back. "Now the only way is up, mate. Start taking your own pictures - not someone else's."
I've borne that in mind ever since.