Murray Bloom
No longer a newbie, moving up!
- Joined
- Jun 6, 2007
- Messages
- 440
- Reaction score
- 85
- Location
- Baltimore, MD
- Website
- www.murraybloomphoto.com
- Can others edit my Photos
- Photos NOT OK to edit
I moderate a photography thread on another forum and felt compelled to post an HDR rant a while back. I'll try pasting it here and hope it works. I hope you enjoy it. (Note, you can click any of the images to see them on the other site, where you can use the 'green square' to examine detail):
Once upon a time, when darkrooms were all the rage, photographers wished upon their jewel-encrusted film canisters for a way to expand the dynamic range that their film was capable of recording. Photography, as was life, was all about compromise; and dynamic range was no different.
What is this mysterious substance called "Dynamic Range," you ask? For one, it's the meaning behind two-thirds of the holy acronym, "HDR." And no, the 'H' does not stand for holy. Dynamic range is the range of values (light to dark) that a medium can capture. Neither film nor digital can capture all the shades that the eye can see. With film, the problem is at the dark end of the scale (typically shadow detail), since silver-based light-sensitive materials do not record low levels very well. Digital is the opposite, and we've all experienced "blown out" highlights. This is because digital sensor elements are easily overloaded. But, on the other hand, digital's ability to record in the shadows is truly amazing.
In the olden days, if we wanted to, for example, shoot an interior picture which was lit by the light coming in through a window, we'd have to choose between letting the window (and the scene outside) go white in order to preserve interior detail; or else expose for the outside scene, leaving the interior go black. The solution was somewhat complicated. We had to shoot two pictures on a tripod, one exposed for the outside and another for the inside. Then each image was exposed onto the same sheet of light-sensitive photo paper. This was the tricky part, since precise alignment was often difficult or impossible to achieve, and masking was required. It was an expensive, trial and error process.
And then came digital. And thereafter came HDR. And photographers finally could put down their very worn jewel-encrusted film canisters. A new god was discovered, and it was called Photomatix. And it was good. HDR (High Dynamic Range) now allowed photographers to take the olde two-shot procedure and improve upon it. We could now combine three, four, five, six, seven, eight, and even more, different exposures into a single image. The magic was all done electronically within our computers. Even though processing times can run into several minutes, it beats the pants off of the old wet method.
Now, I could stand in a pitch-black hallway that looked like this . . .
and shoot seven images at different exposures; which, when combined (and with some of my own personal magic stirred into the brew), could yield an image like this:
It was a miracle! Photographers near and far began using this new tool, reveling in their newfound capability. Some then discovered that they could even invoke the gods of HDR outdoors, revealing detail never before seen, like the tones and details in this relatively simple shot:
Nothing is lost to shadows OR to highlights. We had found the holy grail.
But then, the forces of darkness discovered HDR, and a new genre was born. They called it "Grunge." You've seen it, I'm sure. Everything looks moody and like it's been out in the elements for centuries. At first it was kind of cool, but it's now been so overdone that a mere glimpse can inspire retching in some photographers.
WARNING: The following image is an attempt to illustrate grunge. I just whipped it up for this rant, and it is not intended to represent either fine art or the best of the genre. It's just a parody, a grungy frickin' example of what's become so easy to do with HDR software; almost a one-trick wonder nowadays:
This genre has become all about the 'look.' Gone is the extended dynamic range, replaced by moodiness and decay. Some like it, but it's not my personal cup of meat. What irks me is that, now, when someone mentions HDR, this is what many (especially younger) photographers think of. There's no sense of HDR's relatively brief history, nor what it was originally intended to do. It's become just another trick.
I'll now step down from my soap box. It's safe to relax again.
Once upon a time, when darkrooms were all the rage, photographers wished upon their jewel-encrusted film canisters for a way to expand the dynamic range that their film was capable of recording. Photography, as was life, was all about compromise; and dynamic range was no different.
What is this mysterious substance called "Dynamic Range," you ask? For one, it's the meaning behind two-thirds of the holy acronym, "HDR." And no, the 'H' does not stand for holy. Dynamic range is the range of values (light to dark) that a medium can capture. Neither film nor digital can capture all the shades that the eye can see. With film, the problem is at the dark end of the scale (typically shadow detail), since silver-based light-sensitive materials do not record low levels very well. Digital is the opposite, and we've all experienced "blown out" highlights. This is because digital sensor elements are easily overloaded. But, on the other hand, digital's ability to record in the shadows is truly amazing.
In the olden days, if we wanted to, for example, shoot an interior picture which was lit by the light coming in through a window, we'd have to choose between letting the window (and the scene outside) go white in order to preserve interior detail; or else expose for the outside scene, leaving the interior go black. The solution was somewhat complicated. We had to shoot two pictures on a tripod, one exposed for the outside and another for the inside. Then each image was exposed onto the same sheet of light-sensitive photo paper. This was the tricky part, since precise alignment was often difficult or impossible to achieve, and masking was required. It was an expensive, trial and error process.
And then came digital. And thereafter came HDR. And photographers finally could put down their very worn jewel-encrusted film canisters. A new god was discovered, and it was called Photomatix. And it was good. HDR (High Dynamic Range) now allowed photographers to take the olde two-shot procedure and improve upon it. We could now combine three, four, five, six, seven, eight, and even more, different exposures into a single image. The magic was all done electronically within our computers. Even though processing times can run into several minutes, it beats the pants off of the old wet method.
Now, I could stand in a pitch-black hallway that looked like this . . .
and shoot seven images at different exposures; which, when combined (and with some of my own personal magic stirred into the brew), could yield an image like this:
It was a miracle! Photographers near and far began using this new tool, reveling in their newfound capability. Some then discovered that they could even invoke the gods of HDR outdoors, revealing detail never before seen, like the tones and details in this relatively simple shot:
Nothing is lost to shadows OR to highlights. We had found the holy grail.
But then, the forces of darkness discovered HDR, and a new genre was born. They called it "Grunge." You've seen it, I'm sure. Everything looks moody and like it's been out in the elements for centuries. At first it was kind of cool, but it's now been so overdone that a mere glimpse can inspire retching in some photographers.
WARNING: The following image is an attempt to illustrate grunge. I just whipped it up for this rant, and it is not intended to represent either fine art or the best of the genre. It's just a parody, a grungy frickin' example of what's become so easy to do with HDR software; almost a one-trick wonder nowadays:
This genre has become all about the 'look.' Gone is the extended dynamic range, replaced by moodiness and decay. Some like it, but it's not my personal cup of meat. What irks me is that, now, when someone mentions HDR, this is what many (especially younger) photographers think of. There's no sense of HDR's relatively brief history, nor what it was originally intended to do. It's become just another trick.
I'll now step down from my soap box. It's safe to relax again.
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