Well, I’ve been terribly remiss in writing here. Life has been a bit complicated for me over the last several months, and the blog has gotten pushed aside, but I thought I’d try to pick up the thread today with a little post.
My thought for the day is about making truly meaningful pictures. We all want to make great pictures every time we go out, but it’s an elusive goal, and one I continue to grapple with every time I travel to make pictures. My most recent trip to Lake Superior saw me collecting a lot of images, as I always do, but I wonder on returning how many, if any, of them are the kind of images I want to be making?
When I say meaningful pictures, I mean the kind of pictures that I feel may actually move people, pictures that tell a story that reflects my nature, and may speak to other people about the big themes in life. Life, death, our purpose and meaning on earth. That kind of picture.
Well of course, those are pretty big goals for a photograph, but they are my goals, and I’m sticking to them. This past week, I shot a few pictures that may have been in that category. I’m not sure, but maybe. They’re at least that type of image. These are examples of the kind I mean:
Both the long vistas of the wider shots, and the intimate views of the shoreline, are evocative to me. They could spur thoughts of one’s place in this world, and by extension, one’s place in the world in general. Big thoughts. The kind of thoughts I want my work to evoke.
I’m a little concerned that the saturated color, although it’s what I saw that morning, may tempt people to see only the pretty, and not take in any larger message, so I tried removing the color. Judge for yourself whether the monochrome images are more evocative?
I think maybe it is. There’s definitely something lost without the color, but the image draws you in in a different way. How about the detail shots? Are they better in black and white?
Still pretty nice, I think. Interesting what choices we are faced with. The distant horizon here keeps those questions about the viewer’s place in the big world of Lake Superior in the forefront. I’d like to know what you think about the choice between monochrome and color here, or any comment on the issue of meaning in art.
There was another entirely different type of shot I took that weekend that I have more questions about. This beach, Whitefish Point, in the Eastern U.P., is littered with spectacular driftwood. It has an incredible surface to it, is in all sorts of fanciful shapes, and catches the different light at different times of day incredibly sensitively. I shot lots of these images, but I wonder whether they carry the gravitas of the wider water shots. Here are a couple of examples:
These are very different kinds of images. The surfaces are wonderful, the lighting is wonderful, I like the compositions. The subtle tonalities in these prints are a visual feast, but do they accomplish what I want? Do they evoke larger thoughts? I’m not sure. They’re still beautiful images. They may have a place in the marketplace, or in some people’s hearts, but I’m not sure they reach my larger goals. I can see them displayed in a book, or printed relatively small and displayed as a group, but I don’t think any one image by itself is tremendously powerful or would invite big enlargements. I’m not sure about that, but that’s my instinct at this point. I’d be interested in your comments on this too.
There was yet another family of images that I shot this weekend that I’d like your feedback on. These are a set of intimate shots of rocks on the sandy beaches of Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore. Here are some examples:
Once again, there is beautiful detail, a nice tonal range, and some interesting light and composition. Maybe it’s enough, maybe not. Somehow, these leave me a little less enthusiastic than the driftwood shots at this point. Maybe it’s the organic shapes of the driftwood that call to mind the human body that make them more compelling to me. What do you think?
I have lots of shots in this vein, and I’ve done work in this vein before. It’s almost unavoidable on the Lake Superior shoreline. Taken together, exhibited as a group, or in a book or pdf book, these might make some pretty strong images.
Just a couple of more images, this time from a previous trip to Whitefish Point, that definitely convey the kind of meaning that I’m looking to capture. See what you think:
These have become favorite images that have stood the test of time for me. They are eerie, and evocative to me. There’s that feeling of eternity to the distant horizon. You have to wonder where this huge pile of cobbles came from, and how they were arranged like this. And I love the transparency in the foreground of the first and third shots. It implies perhaps the subconscious or unconscious world, the hidden world. I love it.
This huge pile of rocks was created entirely naturally, probably by ice as it broke up in the spring. The images were shot just prior to Memorial Day this year, when few people are venturing this far north. Looking back to the first shots in this post, they were taken in the same place, and few of these stones remain. The pool captured behind the stones is entirely gone. It’s fascinating how these beaches are transformed from year to year.
So how do you do it?
The inevitable question that all this raises is how one goes about creating these meaningful images. How did I arrive at these? Did I go there knowing what I would see and what kinds of shots I would take? The answer is simply no. I had no idea what I would find at this beach other than some pilings that I remembered there from a previous trip. I had never noticed the driftwood particularly. This formation of stones did not exist before.
In fact, I had no idea when I took the shots above that they would prove to be evocative at all. I just shot and shot and shot while I was there. I shot everything that seemed remotely interesting to me and I shot it from every imaginable angle. Only later did I see what I felt was meaning in these images. So maybe those are the answers. Go there. Attend to what interests you. Explore it fully. Raise the tripod, lower the tripod, turn the camera horizontal and vertical. Get closer, get farther, change lenses from wide angle to telephoto. Shoot from dawn to dusk and beyond.
When I go to these places, I absolutely exhaust myself in the process of shooting. A typical trip lasts only maybe three days. That’s about all I can do at one stretch. I’m up long before dawn. I shoot for a couple of hours at a time, until I’m physically and emotionally exhausted. You wouldn’t think that photography could be exhausting, but I find that it is. I’m up and down from my knees, I’m crouching, squatting, hunkering down, walking all over the loose sand and stones of the beach. I typically camp as near the site I want to photograph as is possible. That means sleeping in a tent, on the ground, eating weird freeze-dried food, carrying heavy packs for long distances. It’s work, real work.
I shoot morning, noon, afternoon, and evening while I’m away. It’s usually a long drive to get where I’m going, and there are lots of logistics like bringing all the necessary camping and photography gear, food, and arranging camping permits for the various locations. There’s a lot of driving between locations as well, and a long trip home after it’s all over. After three days, I can no longer wring one more photo session out of myself and it’s time to go home. On this most recent trip, I shot 1800 frames in three days. That’s not unusual for me.
Probably the larger question is what kind of subject matter you should choose to shoot. I think it’s probably the most significant choice you may make. I could do the same kind of work shooting in junkyards, or the inner city, or shooting people, or flowers and gardens, or still life. It’s probably best to do all of the above, but ultimately, you will need to make some choices. I suggest trying them all because you can’t really know what will happen when you start really engaging with your subject matter. Just as I had no idea what kind of images would emerge from these trips, I have no idea what might emerge should I start shooting on the streets of Detroit, or any other location.
But I do make some educated guesses, and have some general inclinations. I love the pristine beauty of the places I shoot. I love nature’s richness and complexity as opposed to man’s generally less beautiful products. I want to create challenging images, but I don’t really want to create ugliness. I want to make images that speak to people about their place in the natural world. You need to experiment for yourself and see what it is that you have to say, what it is that you like to say, and then get out there and shoot, shoot, shoot.
Enough for now. I’ve raised more questions than probably should be addressed in one place. Stay tuned, I’ll try to return to some of these here and address them in more detail.
September 8, 2011 at 1:54 am |
First, let me say it’s really good to read another post from you. You left me hanging with your winter adventure to that lake.
I really like your driftwood shot – the first one in particular – and the rock details photos. The twilight expanse scenes speak less to me. The rocks arranged in a “stone bar” (as opposed to a sand bar) are intriguing and I think I would have gone ballistic in such a location.
Now as for making meaningful photos and why I love your rock and driftwood detail photos but not so much the lake side photos, I think it all comes down very much to personal preference. Some people may be thrilled by the colours and lines of your lake shore images but be less moved by stones and wood. I just so happen to love shooting rocks and wood too when I find something that excites me. Creating meaningful images largely depends on what you consider meaningful. When I have held exhibitions, I was always delighted to hear from visitors which images attracted them the most. While there were usually general favourites, there would always be a few photos that received praise from only a single visitor who cited that one image over all the others. Each visitor chose his or her respective meaningful image. There were also often images I held dear that no one commented on, which was always a little disappointing.
I think part of making meaningful images is shooting with your heart and soul, though even snapshots or grab shots can capture an instant that will make people gasp in amazement and delight. Then there are times when you are not certain of your efforts because either you are attempting to explore new territory (artistically) or because you might feel you are not getting the results you had imagined. In those cases you might look at your results with heavy initial criticism but much later find a lot of meaningful and memorable images. Conversely, you might be very thrilled about some shots only to look at them again later and feel that they didn’t capture well enough what you were hoping to capture.
In the end, creating meaningful images comes mostly from having a certain minimum amount of talent and being able to capture a technically accurate image (or suitably technically accurate image) while putting a piece of yourself into it. And even then not everyone will find meaning or interest in the resulting images. Most importantly is to shoot to please yourself and let the public decide the value of your work for themselves.
That’s all I can contribute to this at the moment. I am sure there is more to be said.
Looking forward to the next post.
September 26, 2011 at 11:14 am |
Peter, I have to apologize for leaving the winter camping story half finished. The best, of course, remains, but I have not had time or energy to get it up here on the web. I must do so. It was a meaningful experience for me. Just the kind of thing I love doing. Scary and slightly traumatizing at the time, but meaningful in the long run.
I appreciate your comments on meaning as well. We photographers get so many different kinds of feedback on our work (at least if we are active in marketing or showing our work) and it can be hard to judge from them what is our best work. In the end, I have to like all of what I offer for sale, but I find that I actually like the wider shots more as they speak to the sense of solitude and the exposure to the expansiveness and impersonality of the world. Those are big themes for me. I love the driftwood stuff for its remarkable detail and graceful shapes and compositions. I guess they all go to speak to a larger theme of the processes of nature, and the incredible beauty that is available to us if we make the effort to get to interesting places in interesting light, and then pay attention to what is there.