Musings on Mull

Tim Tucker 2

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(And my thoughts on the general state of landscape photography on some forums. ;-) )

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Portrait of a room



I’ve just got back from Mull, having only made 3 exposures in five days, and am reminded of some of the thoughts in Robert Adams’ essays on “Beauty in Photography”.


It is not the role of photography to capture or record beauty. In fact it is quite impossible to do so because beauty is a human reaction to what we see and that reaction cannot be contained in the print, it only resides in us. It is the role of the photographer to explain to the viewer why, to reveal its significance.


I failed on Mull. Not because on a rainy, murky, and overcast Mull there was not beauty in abundance, but because I couldn’t find a way of communicating why I found the landscape so beautiful. Sure, I could’ve taken a few pleasing compositions and added a little drama, maybe even the odd storm or two. But that was not what I saw and doing so would’ve only been an admission that beauty couldn’t be made into a photo. What struck me was the subtle and almost elusive play of light/dark as clouds and drizzle thinned and water calmed smooth. It’s almost ironic that the one scene that I did find was indoors when it was the natural landscape I was after.


Another quote from Adams’ essay, though made before the advent of digital, is quite a fair comment today, “…we need only examine a copy of a mass circulation photography magazine. Most of the pictures suggest embarrassing strain; odd angles, extreme lenses, and eccentric darkroom techniques reveal a struggle to substitute shock and technology for sight.”


This is not to say that our goal is to record faithfully, in fact quite the opposite, as the first point to explain why would be impossible. Adams just argues that it should appear effortless, because it is only when it appears to be effortless that we can believe that it’s common in the world around us. The explanation of why we should see beauty often requires great effort and will produce a highly personal view, (and it’s not to say that technique is not important, as with many of the arts making something appear effortless often requires the greatest technique and understanding). In many photographs I see the opposite, they tell me that the photographer found no beauty in what he captured. An admission that the scene itself contained nothing worth communicating other than the photographers ability to choose lenses, filters or move sliders to evoke pre-programmed algorithms.


A portrait without a sitter becomes a still life, it’s depth restricted by a backdrop and lit from the side. It asks us instead to examine the space, sparse, austere, and with little comfort. It is not in the abilities of the camera that beauty resides but in our recognition that it was arranged by human hand. With that simple act of pleasing arrangement it becomes a space we can identify with, a peace, calm and almost warmth accentuated by a simple play of light. We imagine.


Technically it could be better as with the very low levels of light came problems, the shadows in the lower left didn’t even register on my Pentax Spotmeter, the needle didn’t move off the stop. Aligning and focussing through an f8 lens is a challenge when you can’t even accurately define the edges of the frame on the ground glass screen. So there was a lot of educated guessing going on. After hearing me fuss over detail on the print for 10 minutes a friend of mine, who’s artwork I admire, threatened to pin me to the floor and tie my hands behind my back, “leave it alone!” She was right, the peace and calm is the result of the idiosyncrasy of a human hand. It was not measured and laid out by a machine but by the vagaries of human emotion, the best was made of what was there to create a welcoming space where the chance placement can produce a pleasing and unexpected harmony. So although the precision and exactness of a digital photo machine may be able to capture this, does it communicate it to the viewer? If that unexpected harmony by a chance placement creates a human space rather than a machine ordered one then why would that not be true also of the photo? It requires being human to understand human emotion, so a photo that shows the touches of a human hand will communicate a human understanding better than any level of sharpness, noise control or any exact compositional alignment with precise grids. Sometimes you need to leave things to chance, see where some of the dice roll. It’s not always important where they land, just the act of letting them find their own place is all that’s required. Perhaps the secret to that unexpected harmony is in the act of allowing some things to be imprecise, anywhere but clinical precision. Something I find a lot easier with film than digital.


Many seem to forget that we only see the light reflected, and we imagine. It is not that we forget this when we take the image, but we seem to when it is processed. We like to have a narrative of absolutes, we see things, the objects themselves and measure them against the technical abilities of the camera, rather than remembering that the image is only a representation of the light reflected and an emotional response to it. The same is true of much critique, in which we try to force an image to fit into our narrative, our technical framework based on our understanding of cameras.


Red Rock Canyon, a highly saturated image is critiqued for un-realistic colour, but standing in the canyon with the vast rocks reflecting red light everywhere fundamentally changes your impression of the colour you see. Record it accurately and display it in a tiny A3 print against a vast magnolia wall and it will appear quite different.


Many seem to believe that sharper lenses should produce sharper images, but they don’t. They record greater resolution. A lens with greater resolution will record a sharper edge where one is present, but will also record a smoother and softer gradation where that is present. It records texture and detail far better. Sharpness in an image is acutance, the contrast at boundaries, and increasing it changes this contrast, changes the subtle pattern of reflected light.


So what do we do? We could understand how the subtle play of light and colour reflects our mood, of how different a literal translation will look in print and so produce something that reflects our impression and accept it will differ. Or we can rely on our narrative of absolutes, the way we rationalise through the logic of how a camera functions.


The trouble is that if we do the latter then our images become more of a demonstration of the abilities of our cameras than ourselves. Our artistic interpretations are driven by that understanding and are enabled by the automated algorithms of editing programs. We see through the technology of the camera and look for those qualities to stand our photography apart, how it reflects what a good camera can do. But don’t see how we’ve abstracted the image, made it look unreal rather than convince the audience that beauty is real in the landscape because when we look we only seek to confirm what we understand, our own narrative of absolutes.


Light can only exist against dark, the two are ying and yang. Yes, if you stood in the room and let your eyes adjust, (it was quite dark and took a couple of minutes), then you’d probably see more detail in the shadows. So what to do? To maintain the impression of dim light inside the window has to be brighter, the contrast for soft light has to be soft and lower than the window, (boosting sharpness/acutance will give harder light), and to make those mid tones appear as though light is shining on them they have to be contrasted against where light doesn’t fall, the shadows have to be even darker with even less contrast. Raising shadows to reveal detail in objects and repeating with the highlights will place the brightness and contrast of everything closer together, a more even illumination, effectively subtracting the impression of light. Yet we seem to do it without question, this is what the camera recorded it should be shown, thinking in terms of objects rather than the light reflected… With film I find it easier to let everything fall in it’s place, with digital I think the way we rationalise is far too heavily influenced by our understanding of how cameras work, our narrative of absolutes, than it is of our understanding of how humans work, how we see and respond to what we see.


The image presented is the best of the three, the best I took. I couldn’t take a photo that would show you why I found the landscape of Mull full of beauty, but it was and I am determined. I will return and try again, with a little better understanding and a little more experience. ;-)


Tim Tucker.
 
@Tim Tucker 2 . I really enjoyed reading this. It really makes me think about what I am trying to do.

I have been told I really need to learn editing but I have found editing tends to ruin the digital image. I think some of this is lack of knowledge but I can say for sure, I don't like to edit. I try to get it right (exposure) in the digital camera so I use my digital in the same manner as I do with the analog camera, simple. I often like my film shots over the digital ones. It seems to me the digital images are very sterile looking unless the light is exceptionally interesting. I literally set my digital camera's sharpness to its lowest setting, especially in people shots. I also just use my digital now for event type shooting.

I am not sure if this little rant relates spot on to what your saying here but I am curious to what you think.
 
@Tim Tucker 2 . I really enjoyed reading this. It really makes me think about what I am trying to do.

I have been told I really need to learn editing but I have found editing tends to ruin the digital image. I think some of this is lack of knowledge but I can say for sure, I don't like to edit. I try to get it right (exposure) in the digital camera so I use my digital in the same manner as I do with the analog camera, simple. I often like my film shots over the digital ones. It seems to me the digital images are very sterile looking unless the light is exceptionally interesting. I literally set my digital camera's sharpness to its lowest setting, especially in people shots. I also just use my digital now for event type shooting.

I am not sure if this little rant relates spot on to what your saying here but I am curious to what you think.

Yes, it makes sense to me.

Yes, learning how to edit makes sense to me as well.

But...

The question is not one I can answer. Not because I can't but because my answer may not be correct or even relevant to you. It is a question you must answer yourself.

So I'll answer by asking you to question. I don't expect answers so I'll ask the questions of myself. We've just finished designing and building our own house. It is a space we have control over, one we can order in the way we want. So why did we design it as we did? Why is the layout the way it is, why is the colour scheme the way it is, why is the furniture arranged the way to is? It is a space we feel comfortable and happy in. A space that reflects our tastes, interests and most of all the things that hold memory and significance to us. But it also questions and inspires.

Then the biggest question about images is why don't we learn to do the same with them?

This is from post I dropped on DPreview, a gear site where it will be mostly ignored, but I think relevant:

"In the western world we tend to like everything to be understood as in we do not like unknowns. So what we tend to do is fit everything into a *logical* narrative where everything has it's place and is *correctly labeled*. What tends to happen then is that our understanding hinges around our definition of the words we use to label rather than actual understanding. You see this in many threads on this site, where arguments dissolve into defining the exact meaning of the words and labels rather than observation. Defining the exact shapes the pieces must be to fit together in a predetermined logic jigsaw, rather than understand what shape they are and trying to find out how they actually fit together.

With cameras and software we tend to create our narrative around our understanding of the technology because it's logical. But in doing so we completely leave out, and ignore, the obvious contradiction because it doesn't fit into our narrative. In fact it usually destroys it and raises many unanswered questions, missing pieces and incomplete understanding. But it's the very un-answered questions that are raised that lead to a greater understanding. If we defend a narrative rather than see where it fails we stop learning, if we see where it fails then what we thought was correct is shown to be wrong...


...The camera is transparent, unknown to a viewer. You see that landscape and not either camera or lens, you don't see settings. You see just a landscape as though you were standing there yourself, (without a camera ).

Yet most photographers study the camera, very few study being human.
"

What you need to learn is why you respond to images rather than how software creates them. Then it becomes you tool, your house to design and order as you want rather than a paint by numbers. The biggest thing to learn and understand is perceptive colour theory, the colour wheel. It is the model on which all image editing programs are based. Once you understand the perceptive effects of colour then it will also become clear that vivid colour is nothing more than contrast between hue, (not luminosity alone!), and not the sole domain of the saturation slider. In fact because you can never display a print with anything like the absolute difference in luminosity as you will see in the real world it will greatly affect your impression of colour because it affects contrast. The only reason we increase saturation is so we can give the same PERCEPTIVE contrast between colours as you would get when you see them in the natural world with a vastly increased difference in luminosity. But it doesn't work that well...

Understand that an you're on the way. Nothing is absolute, we see the *difference* between *two* things and never just the absolute property of one alone.

Even B&W is colour, it is the SUBSTITUTION of colour with tone, not it's removal. Look at the original image, does it contradict your assumptions of colour that you understand through memory or reinforce them? Are the luminosities of the colours consistent with what you'd expect?

Another wee quote that may help:

"...some mistakenly think the camera has *captured* the scene and automatically think that the *captured* image reflects reality. They use the capture as a reference, it becomes the reference of how much or little you *push* the colour.

It is not reality, the camera can't capture what you see, AND you're not seeing what the camera captured but merely how your screen displays it, (another artificial device).

So stop seeing this, close your eyes and imagine yourself standing on the beach with the view and the late afternoon light filling your vision and your senses.
"

Look at what you photograph and remember, not always understand, (I don't). Then compare the image to your actual observation and not what the camera captured. Where it differs and degrades, correct and enhance.

But remember:

"...it's the very un-answered questions that are raised that lead to a greater understanding. If we defend a narrative rather than see where it fails we stop learning, if we see where it fails then what we thought was correct is shown to be wrong."

There you go, problem solved... ;)
 
I can't say that I can relate to everything you say here, but it is refreshing to read something on a photography forum that is actually about photography, rather than cameras. I find that it is useful to know about cameras, but only as a means to an end. I find that a discussion on colour far more fascinating but I'm usually met with a blank silence. Similarly with most other topics that cover human perception rather than camera technology. Your inability to get a good landscape picture is quite understandable and one that I often experience. I do like the still life you posted.
 
Was ore curious than investigative as to whether your feelings of failure were more do to processing than to capture. I found that making the pitcher in the alcove more prominent and lowering the rest of the alcove "mood" to the more austere interior "mood," helped to provide a more uniform eye-continuation, rather than just to stop at the brightness which I tended toward each time I looked at the image.

tim.jpg
 
@bulldurham, LOL, my comments were about the shots I didn't show rather than the one I did. And I appreciate your edit and point, it is both something I considered and is actually also easily in the range of normal darkroom process.

But it highlights a fundamental question, one that I'm attempting to explore with this blog post and my recent one just posted.

Your edit has the exact visual effect that you state, it creates a more harmonious whole within the picture frame. My original, without the edit, hints at the reality of the situation, that the room was dim and ill-lit because of the size of the windows and to show that there is an understanding that it's far brighter outside. It's not complete but a dimly lit room that contains a little bit of peace and harmony but still exists within a wider reality. There is a real world beyond the window.

Which is correct? Does it depends on your audience?

I find that on photo-forums the tendency is to expect that the photograph is contained within the frame, that it should be complete, harmonious, and logical as a whole. But that outside this viewers tend to relate it to their experience as how it fits into a wider picture, one that extends past the frame. People don't always view images as photographers do, they don't see them as *the end and complete product* but as how they relate to them and how they fit into a wider understanding of the real world.

There was something that attracted me to this, I walked into the chapel/church without a camera and noted just this entrance vestibule and not the chapel as a whole. I went back to the camper, had lunch and was still thinking about it so picked up the Linhof and decided to attempt to photograph it on film. Part of the attraction was that I walked from a bright exterior into a dimly lit space and as my eyes accustomed to the light, (it was really quite a lot darker inside), I saw what I presented in the photograph. I couldn't, and still can't, shake the feeling that part of the harmony was due to the transition from one bright and wild space into another of calm. Even the fact that it took a good 30 seconds for your eyes to accustom to the dark to see it properly and proceed without the fear of tripping over something, (it was dark inside when you closed the door and shut out the world...), seemed to add to the impression of peace.

I'm still not sure which is better. Your edit appeals to a photographer by giving a pleasing tone and detail, by containing a complete and pleasing logic within the confines of the frame. What appealed to me was the contrast between the space and how it differed to a wider whole. How do you show that without a reference to the wider whole? I'm still not sure... ;)

@Bollygum, if you like discussions on colour then try this:

BBC Two - Horizon, 2011-2012, Do You See What I See?

It's available on the BBC iPlayer for 15 days from the date of this post, and it will challenge your ideas about *correct* colour. Especially the part where if reality was shown then walking from a warm interior into the blue WB of a sunlit day would look quite different to what we actually see...

No worries @Gary A. I always find a little Adams corrects my perspective. ;)
 
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Unfortunately, I can't see BBC content as I live in Australia. But, I think I know what it would be about. I have to admit to not doing any b&w photographs, not because I don't like them, though I usually don't, but because my imagination works in colour. And also because the colour in my preferred subjects says something important.

Our human use of colour varies from the sublime (rarely) to the random (mostly) to the horrible (commonly). Colours in nature are much more organised. Our colour vision has evolved as colour in nature has evolved. We see the colours that we do because that is what has proved to be the most useful colours. If we are searching for yellow fruit, then those fruit should always look yellow, else how are we to find them? I'm sure that the BBC programme showed how colours can change depending on context. This is called colour constancy, where the yellow fruit will always look yellow even if it is purple. We manage this (generally) by adjusting all colours depending on the surroundings. This a very neat trick and it usually works in the natural world, though not always, as I'm sure that programming demonstrates.

There is much colour in nature that has evolved because of vision. Colour can be used to advertise (brightly coloured male birds) or to hide (camouflage). Without vision there would be far less colour. It could be said that there would be no colour, as colour is a construct of vision, but there is a relationship between colour and the things we look at else how would it be useful.
I'll stop now as I'm just rambling and it's probably not what anyone wants to discuss.
 
"Which is correct? Does it depends on your audience?"

Shouldn't it depend on the photographer?

While I appreciate that the opinion(s) of an audience has value ... but shouldn't the opinion of the photographer be of primary and principle importance?
 
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Unfortunately, I can't see BBC content as I live in Australia. But, I think I know what it would be about. I have to admit to not doing any b&w photographs, not because I don't like them, though I usually don't, but because my imagination works in colour. And also because the colour in my preferred subjects says something important.

Our human use of colour varies from the sublime (rarely) to the random (mostly) to the horrible (commonly). Colours in nature are much more organised. Our colour vision has evolved as colour in nature has evolved. We see the colours that we do because that is what has proved to be the most useful colours. If we are searching for yellow fruit, then those fruit should always look yellow, else how are we to find them? I'm sure that the BBC programme showed how colours can change depending on context. This is called colour constancy, where the yellow fruit will always look yellow even if it is purple. We manage this (generally) by adjusting all colours depending on the surroundings. This a very neat trick and it usually works in the natural world, though not always, as I'm sure that programming demonstrates.

There is much colour in nature that has evolved because of vision. Colour can be used to advertise (brightly coloured male birds) or to hide (camouflage). Without vision there would be far less colour. It could be said that there would be no colour, as colour is a construct of vision, but there is a relationship between colour and the things we look at else how would it be useful.
I'll stop now as I'm just rambling and it's probably not what anyone wants to discuss.

It did, but also went further...

It did show a yellow banana with colour consistency, but included it amongst other fruit and a colour checker card. Sneakily the yellow on the card was the exact same as the banana and whereas the banana held consistent colour under different WB the yellow on the colour checker didn't. The conclusions were interesting. We see what we expect to see rather than what is there, including the colour of an object. It showed how powerful our memory of what objects should look like, as we've learnt through experience, over-rides inconsistencies in actual colour.
Say I took a B&W photo of three peppers, yellow, red and green ones then asked an audience what colours they were. I would get pretty much consistent answers because even with B&W we view with a colour understanding. Something I don't think all B&W photographers realise or even see anymore, so much have they taught themselves to see in terms of what they understand, global contrast and clarity.
However if I did the same with a photo of three women and asked the colours of the dresses then the answers would be mostly different and depend more on the mood of the audience. It's why that black/gold or blue/white illusion can only work with a dress.

@Gary A. Not really. As photographers we tend to rationalise why our photos work rather than understand why they don't, it's very difficult to be dispassionate when viewing your own. And just as in communicating ideas on this thread I have to use a language you understand, so in photography an understanding of how your audience interprets images is more important than my views on how I think they should. I think all my photos are great, but I might be wrong... ;);););)
 
I haven't seen that one. Fascinating, but it all fits with the way we see. There is a vast amount of data collected by our eyes. Far more than our brain can possibly process, so our brain filters the input and only sees the bits that are useful, or that we have evolved to find useful. We filter out lots of irrelevant stuff the we could see.

If I look at a landscape which has power lines running through it, I tend to not see the power lines, or at least they are not important. If I look at a picture of that scene then the power lines are glaringly obvious.

We often see pictures of sunsets that are probably spectacular in real life, but need great enhancement to even look passable on a screen or paper.

I am partly blind in my left eye. There are bits missing from the field of vision, yet if I close my right eye and look at a tree, I see a whole tree. Yet if I look at a page of text there are obvious gaps.
 
Darn it, can't watch the video. Move to the US please. there is a house for sale down the block from me.
 

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