Travelin’, Man.

Now that I’ve finally shaken off the jet lag after a fabulous workshop in London, it’s time to settle back into my photographic life and log some words here on PhotoDino.

So, yes, I’ve been travelin’, man….but that’s not what this blog post is about. I want to talk about composition, which all generally boils down to how the eye travels through an image. (Summer, thanks very much for your note—for some reason it hadn’t occurred to me to blog about this until I read your message the other day.)

Most of us have had compositional “rules” drilled into our heads along with some theoretical reasons why they should be followed. I’m sure you can recite them with me: the rules of thirds, eyes should be in the upper third of the frame, don’t crop at the joint, if it bends bend it, use diagonals, don’t put the horizon line through the subject’s head, etc. There are dozens of them. What it comes down to, though, is creating emotional impact and keeping the viewers attention.

Rather than learning, relying on, and consciously breaking those rules, I prefer to think of composition in terms of how the viewer’s eye moves through the image. The best way to explain this is with examples.

Mama and the twins

It would be a little difficult to add a lot of the traditional rules of composition to this image. It’s pretty geometric, and yet it manages to stay dynamic. In this image, my eye is first attracted to Mama’s face and the great expression. Then my eye is drawn up her arm, up the girl’s arm to her hair. It then follows the line of her body over to her sister (and that impish grin), then down her body, which brings me back to Mama’s body line and back up to her face. Because the lines lead me through the image, I’ve spent more time looking at it than I would have otherwise.

cat girl

Even though this image is pretty close up, the eye still needs to travel to prevent it from being forgettable. (Pardon the scan; it’s an older image.) My attention is grabbed first by those amazing eyes, which is exactly as it should be. I then follow the line of her hair on the right down to her hand, down her arm, around the cat and up the arm to the shoulder, and right back around to the eyes, where we started. Because of the lines created by this composition, I’ve inadvertently adhered to some basic portrait rules (eyes in the upper third, eyes positioned on a third, bent arms, etc). Although I’ve cropped into her hand, I’ve kept enough of it to keep the eye moving, which makes it much less of an issue than it would have been otherwise.

Bumblebee and the Dictator

Meet my friend Bumblebee and his daughter, the Dictator. They have a great relationship, and it shows here. My eye goes immediately to her face, then travels up her arm to his face, down her other arm, down his arm to her shirt, then right back up to her face. To illustrate my point, here’s a tighter crop, where all the major elements are left, but the line of Bumblebee’s arm is interrupted. It allows the viewer’s eye to wander straight out of the frame, never coming full circle.

bad crop

Now, as with all compositional guidelines, this doesn’t mean that an image that doesn’t follow suit is necessarily weak. The composition, like all the other elements of photographic technique, has to support the mood and the message of the image. Just remember that the goal is to create an image that keep the viewer’s attention and sticks in their memory.

– CJ

Jump ahead five years

Just a quick share today. I’ve always been a big fan of getting my subjects in the air, whether it’s jumping on a bed, a trampoline, jumping off something, anything that gets them airborne. In the case of these girls, who I first photographed five years ago, no launch assistance is required.

So here they are, then….

bad scan, good jump

…and now.

Up!

Oh, the anticipation.

As I sit on a pleasant Sunday morning watching football and waiting for a giant plate of nachos to appear, it seems a good time to talk about anticipation.

I really believe anticipation is one of the most under-appreciated qualities in a photographer. These days, timing seems to have become largely of spray-and-pray with cameras that shoot a hundred images per second. It’s easy to fall into the mentality that if you shoot continuously, one of the shots will catch the height of the action. Actually, it’s not always the case.

One of the biggest breakthroughs for me as I was developing my technique was the move from 35mm to medium format. At first it was incredibly frustrating, only having one shot before having to bring the camera down from my eye and wind it; manual focus was even more difficult. Once I forced myself to adjust, however, I found that my sense of anticipation grew exponentially. I had to be able to anticipate the moment, because I would only get one shot at it.

The keen sense of anticipation also means a greater ability to create a bond with your subjects. How? Well, shooting continuously means constantly having the camera in front of your face. It’s hard to feel a strong connection with a faceless person. Being prepared to catch the moment means putting the camera to your eye when there’s a reason to, allowing you to put your subjects more at ease.

On the practical side, learning to anticipate your shots means not having to slog through seventeen nearly identical images to find the one you were after in the first place.

Here are a few examples from my “Life Backstage” project, where the low light conditions make anticipation even more critical.

Warren, warming up

Hat on the way up

The shocking Miss Spankings

Reid juggles

Lolo Flamingo

Pierre scolds, Midnite ignores

Dog Days

Since I’ve got a brand new puppy, and since the dog days of summer are still having their way with us here in Denver, I thought I’d share some of my favorite people-and-their-pet images. I really enjoy including Rover and Kitty in family shoots. Our lives wouldn’t be complete without them, and neither is a portrait session.

I could post this stuff all day long, but I’ll try to limit myself.

Enjoy!

– CJ

Tully, my newest canine child

Apollo, may he rest in peace

One eye each

Betty the boo-dog

Piper, my oldest dog, seven years ago

Gus and his girl

Portraits in the UK

I’m happy to announce that I will be in London, UK in early October and am available for a very few portrait sessions while I’m there. I’ll be arriving around the 1st and leaving the 10th. Sessions done in this time frame will be at my regular Denver rates, with no travel or additional fees applied.

I’ve always had a wonderful time with my London clients, and I think it’s such a great experience working outside of my usual element. For all the differences in culture I experience while traveling, it’s fun to be reminded that people are pretty much the same everywhere, in a good way.

My schedule is still somewhat flexible except for the evening of October 5 through the evening of the 7th, as I’ll be teaching a workshop during those days. If you’re a photographer interested in attending the workshop, there are still just a few openings available. I would love to meet you. Please check for the details.

If I have the pleasure of meeting you in London, feel free to remind me to tell you the story of when I lost my passport in a black cab. It’ll bring on the warm-and-fuzzies.

– CJ

This shot has nothing to do with the UK. Just an old favorite I'd forgotten about.

Plan to fail, please.

I was dropping my son off at his driver’s education class this morning (may God protect us all) when I saw that old bumper sticker standard on the car ahead of mine: What would you try if you knew you could not fail?

It’s a fun question to ponder. I’d jump off a building. Do a double back flip. Gamble with the high rollers in Vegas. Wrestle an alligator. Audition for American Idol. (That was a joke.) Then the thought crossed my mind that “fail” has many different meanings. One can be an un-failure at jumping off a building and still be flattened on the landing. You can “win” in a wrestling match with an alligator and still lose a limb or two.

Anyway.

What is failure, where photography is concerned? Is it missing an exposure, missing a moment? Is it falling into a creative rut? Not meeting the client’s expectations? Shoot long enough, and you’ll experience all these things and more, probably sooner rather than later.

In reality, there’s no more effective way to learn than to fail, and to do it well. Every artist should risk failure on a regular basis. And since you don’t really want to do it on a client’s dime and time, that means having regular, on-going personal projects.

For some reason, as soon as we photographers start trading photographs for dollars, we seem to stop shooting personal projects. The reasons (excuses?) usually fall along the lines of being too busy, having family obligations, needing to put work first over “fun.” It’s as if shooting for for our ourselves is massages and caviar: a nice luxury, but who can afford them?

Here’s the problem. If you don’t take risks and explore/fail/learn on your own time, you’ll eventually either 1) produce stale, uninspired, “safe” work, or 2) fail on your clients’ time. Neither of those sounds like fun to me. We have to give ourselves opportunities to explore and expand without dollar signs attached.

I’m a firm believer that every photographer should have at least one meaningful, challenging self-assignment in progress at all times. Musicians don’t only play when they’re on stage; photographers shouldn’t only shoot when there’s a client. Call it “practice” if you’d like.

If you’re too busy to shoot for your own growth and joy, then you are too busy.

Let’s make time for “failure” and commit to a personal project that requires heart, soul, and a few alligators. Find a theme, a self-assignment, something near and dear to you. Stick with it. Pursue it and explore the range of possibility. Shoot outside your comfort zone. Enjoy the freedom of knowing nobody but you will give a damn if the images work.

What would I do if I knew I could not fail? Be bored out of my mind, probably.

– CJ

Then and Now

First, a little note to those of you in the Denver area. I’ve somehow ended up with a weekend of no kids, no shows, and no shoots. Can’t have that! Therefore, I’m offering a $100 session and complimentary 8×10 print (regularly $500) for this coming Saturday and Sunday afternoon. Only two sessions are available (one each day) and they are first come first served. Drop me a line ASAP if you are interested.

**********************

I love watching my clients grow over the years. It’s fun to look back at some of their older portraits and see how much they’ve changed. Here are a few recent “then and now” shots that I’ve enjoyed looking through.

Very active family portrait, 2008

Still fun, and more of them, 2010

2008

2010

More to follow this afternoon….

Backstage

I lead a bit of a double life. While most of you know me via my photography, I’m also a musician; the two together keep me happy and relatively balanced, if a little frenetic at times.

In my music life, I’m lucky enough to have met and become friends with some of the most interesting people Denver has to offer. One of my regular singing gigs is at a cabaret downtown, featuring old-school burlesque dancers, vaudevillians, jugglers, magicians, musicians, and other wonderfully bizarre characters. Watching a show is a lot of fun, but to me, the most fascinating part is watching the transformation of the performers between the front door and the stage. My favorite vantage point is the pass-through between the tiny dressing room and the stage entrance; it’s where you can see both sides of the personality, sometimes alternately and sometimes all at once.

From the stage, the world of burlesque and Vaudeville looks slick and glamorous. Backstage, under the garish florescent light, you can see the rough edges, the glue holding the rips in the costumes, the chaos, and the often biting sense of humor that comes with the territory. For me, this is the true magic of the cabaret.

So these are my friends and coworkers and partners in crime. This is the first installment in what I expect will be a long-term, maybe life-long project. You’ll see candid moments, lots of vamping, and plenty of images that will make you scratch your head and wonder. They’re more or less snapshots between friends.

For the technically-minded among us, these were all shot with available light (ugly overhead florescent tubes) with Tri-X 320 and 400, both at 640, processed in Tmax developer.

Tribal Tique, the belly dancing duo

Pianist Larry Wegner and comedian/juggler David Deeble

The incomparable Larry Wegner

Lady Shanime

Orchid Mei, preparing for her next act

Pierre Jean-Pierre and Fannie, slipping into character

As a reality check (and to demonstrate the power of careful use of light, contrast, and lighting fall-off, here’s a little camera phone snap to show you the surroundings these images were taken in.

Home, sweet home.

(As an aside, I’ll be doing a workshop June 30 – July 1, in which I’ll show the where’s and how’s of some of my favorite images; this will be one of the locations we’ll be covering, and I’ll be singing during the show as well.)

Many more images to come.

Wishing you wonderful light and soft shadows…. break a leg.

– CJ

Always clean your boots.

Always clean the mud off your boots after an outdoor session. If you don’t, you’ll end up with smeared mascara. This is why.

If you don’t clean your boots, you’ll end up wearing your really cool 5-inch black leather boots instead. Since they look great with a black mock turtleneck and it looks like it’s going to be cold outside today, that’s what you’ll be walking in when your classic car with the broken fuel gauge runs out of gas. Since you’re very careful in calculating your miles, you’ll not have noticed that your boys took the spare gallon of gas out of your trunk to use in the lawnmower. So when you walk those six blocks to the only nearby gas station, you’ll be extra pleased to find that they’re all out of gas cans.

Fortunately the kind gas station attendant has a non-approved container to put the gas in, so you’ll get to walk the six blocks back with lot of well-meaning folk warning you that non-approved containers of gas are dangerous (although for all they know, you could be on your way to sell clean urine for drug tests to the locals, since it’s a nice neighborhood.) It’s OK, because the warnings are drowned out by the cat calls brought on by your ridiculous boots and your sweat-soaked mock turtleneck. When you get to your car and put the gas in, you’ll realize that you lost your keys somewhere along the way. When you do finally get the spare keys, you’ll discover that your car still doesn’t want to start.

At that point, you’ll run through your entire repertoire of expletives while beating on the steering wheel, eventually drawing enough frightened looks from passers-by that you’ll break down into hysterical laughter, running your mascara. You won’t noticed the smeared mascara until the bartender points it out as you pound a double vodka soda some time later.

So, always clean the mud off your boots after a session.

– CJ

I'm betting my grandfather had a spare gallon of gas in the trunk.

“Photogenic”. Ain’t no such thing.

I’m gonna say that again. There’s no such thing.

Few people are accustomed to being analyzed by a lens-wielding stranger. Yet we photographers often get impatient with subjects who pull faces and wear contorted expressions, and wonder why they can’t just look “normal”. An answer in the form of a question: Why don’t we all have natural, comfortable looking images of ourselves on our driver’s license? Because we aren’t comfortable, and we have no idea what “natural” looks like.

The camera does not “love” some people and hate others. The camera only does what the photographer tells it to do, whether intentionally or otherwise.

I find that people who consider themselves “unphotogenic” generally fall into two groups.

There’s the shy, observer types who are used to being the watcher, not the watched. Add in the permanence of a photograph, and it can be a bit off-putting. It’s not necessarily a matter of being self-conscious, but rather a matter of not enjoying being put into the spotlight. It’s the photographer’s job to forge a connection strong enough to make the photograph secondary. The subject is not going to forget he or she is being photographed, but a skilled people person (with a camera) can take the focus away from the outcome and help the subject enjoy the process.

The second group are those who, like me, tend to be very animated with their facial expressions. The more expressive the face, the easier it is to catch it between expressions, resulting in all kinds of awkward shots. This is particularly a problem when a photographer is intent on getting a dynamic subject to talk. Ugh. You might as well photograph me eating. It may make the photographer more comfortable to getting the subject talking, but some people are much better photographed listening. Most anything that calms a dynamic subject will tone down the range and rate of expressions, producing a more flattering shot. Calm voices, soft light, and even a little bit of (gasp) silence can do wonders for us Super Expressers.

I present to you as evidence the following image of Erika, a self-proclaimed unphotogenic person. Whatever.

photogenic schmotogenic.

Photographers, I preach it all the time and will have to do it again here. Make it a point of putting yourself in front of someone else’s lens, at least a few times a year. Empathize with your subjects. It is not easy to be photographed, and it takes a lot of skill, and a lot of tools in the toolbox, to learn how to catch your subjects at their best. Suck it up, do it, and embrace the pain. It’ll make you a better photographer.

CJ out.