What I’ll miss about moving closer to the city? This.
It’s something I’ve learned while we’ve been out house hunting: I need trees, green space, a sense of privacy, nature, birds chirping, and clear seasonal changes.
I need to feel like the woods are only a short walk away. That there’ll be foggy fields on my way into work. That my home will be well shaded by trees.
I need light filtering through branches and boughs.
If I were to give one piece of advice, it’s to study light. Study it in everyday life. Pay attention to its properties and how it behaves. See how it changes after the sun dips below the horizon but it’s still not dark. See what it does when it bounces off a white wall, or wraps around a black sphere, or morning light shines through the hair of someone you love. Then capture it with whatever camera you have.
Light. It’s all that matters. If you’re not a student of light, you’re barely a student of photography.
Celebrate light.
And celebrate the people, places, and ideas that you love.
There’s value in returning to the same places or subjects over and over again. In time, you watch the place change, grow, or deteriorate as your own skills develop.
The Irish Hills of Michigan has become my go-to spot, over and over again, for years now. My fascination with the place comes from childhood: I grew up and around the area, and visited the local amusement parks often. It’s also a gorgeous place, full of rolling hills and secluded lakes, and located along the US-12 corridor west of Detroit.
Lately, I’ve driven US-12 on my work commute, which is much more my style – no freeway, no stop-and-go-traffic, etc. And each day I drive the route, I think, “This is the place I want to focus my creative attention.”
There are plenty of project opportunities in a diversity of settings in the Irish Hills. It already has been my focus for a few years now. But lately, I find that I keep coming back to the place. I did just that this past weekend, revisiting some old haunts and scoping out some new ones.
Transatlantic, “All of the Above“:
When October winds lay down,
When the heat can’t melt the ground,
And nothing matters anyway.
When October winds take hold,
And you’re down that dank, dark road,
Maybe nothing matters anyway.
Taken about a year ago on my morning commute.
Miss my country backroads so much.
Chris Gampat at the Phoblographer on the unique look of older CCD camera sensors:
CCD sensors on the other hand were really a work of art. They delivered great images, but at high ISOs they just fell apart. Arguably though, you’d get even better colors with one when paired with more modern glass. CCD sensors also delivered images that simply just looked organic and film-like. You generally didn’t need to apply some filter from VSCO or RNI films, you just got it.
Embrace the old school – the flaws, the imperfections, the personality, the challenges. With film, it was easy: grab a camera and buy a pack of film. But with digital, there are only so many limitations, and one of those is the older-style digital sensor format.
Maybe CCD sensors will be the new Lomography for the digital crowd.
During Artists In Jackson, my portrait strategy for each artist was a mix of planning and spontaneity.
Take Ashley here. My thinking going into our sessions was: pick a cool spot, a good time of day, and see what we make.
Others, like Andrew, I didn’t know the location at all, but as we explored the building we found a room with just my kind of light.
My trick is to find a location that has what Brooks Jensen calls a “density of opportunity.” Namely, head to a place I know reasonably well, with cool surroundings, that we can use to make photos. And typically, I try to find a time of day where light comes in at an angle, and I can have fun with shadows or golden hour.
Otherwise, I’m making it up as I go along. And that’s part of the fun, and the learning. Those variables feel comfortable.
That may be why I’m having such a hard time getting started on my next portrait project. This time, my thinking is to have everyone come to one location, with a structured light source, and shoot on a simple backdrop with simple surroundings. There’s no improv involved with the settings, lighting, etc. The only variable is the subject of the portrait – that’s where the chaos comes in.
With such a rigid structure, I feel like everything—the place, the time, the light—has to be perfect before I even get started making photographs. So I haven’t started.
Given enough time, that Not Starting turns into guilt (for not making) and worry (about never starting), and that’s where I sit right now.
“Make things for people you love.” – Austin Kleon
Robert Mapplethorpe gave a lot of his work away to friends. So did Picasso (to some controversy).
These were some of the most famous artists of their time, and now their work goes for thousands of dollars. The people who loved and supported them get the benefit.
So it should be with the work we make.
My guess is that there are people in your life—family, spouses, friends, supporters—who help to make your art possible, either through emotional support or hustle. It’s certainly true for me. For my recent gallery shows, it’s always my friends and family who turn out. That support means a lot.
I feel like we should be generous with our art, especially to those who show up. A print doesn’t cost that much to make – why not gift it to someone who loves your work?
Recently, my in-laws asked if they could get a few of my still life prints to go with their dining room remodel. I gladly two photos to go with their decoration scheme, no questions asked.
I’m never going to be famous like Mapplethorpe, and my work will never sell for thousands of dollars. But even if it did, giving my work away to people I care about is the least I can do for their time and attention.
Big transitions in my life the past year or so: the birth of my daughter, a new job, getting ready to sell our house and move into the city.
So it is with the seasons as well. The temperatures here in Michigan are dropping steadily, the leaves are changing, pumpkins are popping up at roadside stands. Autumn is in the air.
Much like last year, I’m trying to stay on top of all the transitions and stay involved with creative projects. It’s tough. And I’m not working on anything specific now, but I have some ideas and plans brewing.
Here’s to the in-between.
My wife and I are house shopping. It’s been a big project, getting our house ready for sale while simultaneously looking at other homes.
One thing I love about our current house is the light. Lots of windows, east/west facing, plenty of natural light – it’s spoiled me over the years.
Now, as we house hunt, light is a big decider for me. Does the space feel open? Are there a decent number of windows? Which way does the sunlight come in? How will that change over the day, or the seasons?
The place above caught my eye right away. When we walked in, the light coming into the dining room made me take notice. That’s light I could get used to.
Let the Summer Come Again – Ann Arbor, Michigan
Hey! Project complete.
A summer’s worth of blog posts and black and white photos, in the bag. You can read the whole lot using my “daily” tag.
Now that fall’s here, it’s back to (mostly) full color glory alongside (mostly) daily blogging.
Have a great weekend.