Red Skies at Night

January 21, 2012

Opening the Door

Filed under: articles, inspiration, noted, photography, photos, web — Eric Jeschke @ 8:16 pm

Door

Key: R20120102-085212

I’ve been wrestling with the idea of making vs. taking photographs. Of course many photographers would say that even when they discover a “found” image they are making a photograph, due to all the creative things they are doing with the light, composition, etc. and on afterward into post processing. But I am talking about something much different–the difference between being inspired by a found image vs. coming up with an image in your head and then going out and realizing that–making it happen.

I really struggled with trying to figure out why it was so hard for me to make the latter kind of images. It’s something that I want to work on and develop, and I know that part of that is just putting in the time working that way until it is as comfortable as the other. But part of me was just not satisfied with not understanding the source of the difficulty.

Today I read a post by Brooks Jensen that neatly summarized probably the most important aspect of the problem. It is essentially the difference between photography and painting: in (found) photography you find an image and then you pare it down, element by element, subtracting things until you have the image close to what you “saw” in your head when it caught your eye. In painting you are doing the opposite: adding elements, until the scene is built up into something interesting. In short, it is a fundamentally different way of working. In the end you are exercising the same sorts of decisions and skills at the time of pressing the shutter, but the beginning part is so different that I am just not familiar with starting from that end.

I hope that I have articulated this well enough to get the point across. I know Brook’s post helped me understand at least one of the barriers standing in front of me that I could not see, and now seeing and understanding it, I might be able to make some more progress in getting over that barrier. It’s fair to say that painting lessons or other creative forms of art would probably be a huge help here, but my “art time” is limited. At least I can practice my “brush strokes” photographically.

July 5, 2011

The Elliott Erwitt Show and Thoughts on Humor in Photography

Filed under: articles, exhibits, inspiration, photographers, photography, photos, reviews — Tags: , , — Eric Jeschke @ 10:26 pm

Street Performers, NYC

Key: R20110630-112204-crop

I recently had a chance to visit New York City. I’m not certain, but I think the last time I was in NYC for any length of time was in the late 1980′s. I had heard various things about NYC being “cleaned up” in the last couple of decades, but nevertheless I was struck by the remarkable change the city had undergone. In short, it felt like a different city. The trains were clean and efficient; it felt reasonably safe to walk around at night (although I was only in Manhattan and Brooklyn) and I was only once approached by a panhandler. In my previous visit I felt like I was forever walking a phalanx of beggars. Perhaps my visit was a bit charmed, but it really felt like a different place.

The food and the sights and the street scenes were all classically NYC interesting, but the main thing that I want to write about today was a trip to the International Center for Photography to see the Elliott Erwitt exhibit, which runs until sometime in August. I was interested in seeing the show from the moment I read about it, and when I realized that we would be in the area I put it on my “must do” list for the NYC visit.

The show is a retrospective of Erwitt’s life’s work (he was born in 1928) and features a self-curated selection of large prints, several books, and other miscellanea. The 100 B&W prints are printed in various sizes. With the current trend towards huge prints, many of them are unfortunately printed much too large–I can only guess at the sizes of these, but some of them must border on 40 to 50 inches on a side. In my opinion, these larger prints suffered badly in some cases from huge, blotchy grain that distracted from the subject matter even viewed at respectable distances for prints of this size. I am guessing he was mostly a Leica 35mm shooter, and a 35mm frame can only be blown up so large before it begins falling apart. The smaller prints (15-30 inches/side) fared much better, retaining gorgeous tonalities and transitions, and allowing the viewer to move in closer for a more intimate encounter with the subject matter.

The exhibit showed off the Magnum photographer’s incredible photographic versatility and featured examples of street, documentary, photojournalist and portrait work. A few of the photographs are iconic: portraits of Marilyn Monroe, close-ups from the volatile Kruschev-Nixon meetings, humorous dog-human juxtapositions–I recognized many that I wouldn’t have put a name to beforehand. My favorites were the street and documentary prints, which often illustrated Erwitt’s sense of humor. This quote from the exhibit sums those up nicely:

“Above all, Erwitt is noted for his offbeat sense of humor, a rarity in photography. Throughout his work, Erwitt combines gentle whimsy with ironic observation of everyday life. Often his works involve visual puns that make the viewer look twice; such clever comedy requires that every picture be organized with great elegance and precision.”

Perhaps these resonated with me the most because they are precisely closest to what I would say is my own style, which I have described to others for a while now as often humorous or whimsical in nature (although not always so subtle). I can only agree that humor is a rarity in “serious” photography (no pun intended); it must be done with “elegance and precision” in order to keep the viewer from immediately dismissing it into the genre of the snapshot and vernacular. I don’t know all the reasons for this, but it is the same in any branch of art: most art is serious, and the goal of many artists is to make you think, make you angry, make you uncomfortable–anything but to make you smile or laugh. Yet humor and laughter are staples of our human emotions as well; why shouldn’t art evoke them? It’s taken me many years of photography to begin to see my own style emerge, and I feel like that is something I’m finally beginning to get a handle on. While Erwitt’s style is different, he’s one of the few very successful photographers in which I can see an affinity for humor, and it’s refreshing and strangely familiar to see it.

Despite some minor flaws in the presentation, all in all I feel the Erwitt retrospective is a very interesting and worthwhile show. If you will be in the NYC area before the end of the summer, I highly recommend stopping by the ICP on 6th ave midtown and checking it out.

February 26, 2011

A Linux-Based Photography Workflow (Part 5: Scanning)

Filed under: articles, floss, linux, process, products, scanners, scanning, tools, workflow — Tags: , , , — Eric Jeschke @ 3:38 pm

This is part of a series of posts on Linux-based software tools for a photography workflow. Please read that first if you are coming to this series fresh–it will provide the necessary background information to explain the purpose of this series.

In this part I move on to the topic of scanning. If you are a new digital-based photographer you might not have any need for this information, but if you shoot and scan film, or like me, are old enough to have old stocks of slides and negatives from the pre-digital days, you may want to scan these so that you can integrate them into a digital archive or print workflow. I’m on my second film scanner. The model I’m currently using is the Epson Perfection 700, a flatbed scanner that has some inserts for batch scanning a number of slides or negative strips at once. The resolution is high enough on this scanner that it is more than sufficient for the lenses and technique that I used back in the film days. Here is a picture of the scanner all loaded up with a set of 12 slides.

Epson V700 w/Batch Slide Holder

I’m going to cheat a little bit again and point to some older posts that I wrote about my scanning workflow almost exactly two years ago. The posts are still highly relevant, since I haven’t changed my scanning workflow one iota since then and I constantly refer back to those posts as reminders when I fire up my scanning workflow. Without further ado, part 1, part 2 and addendum.

For those who don’t wish to follow up all that information in one go, here is a basic summary:
In my early days of scanning, I quickly settled on a commercial program called VueScan, by Ed Hamrick. He sells a version of the program for Linux, Mac and Windows. It looks and behaves more or less identically across all the platforms. Although the price has gone up a bit since those days, this is still a very good product at a reasonable price. I looked at the open source alternatives such as xsane, etc., but they just didn’t match up with the feature set and workflow potential of vuescan. As you can see from the posts, there are many, many settings–this is not a program for novice users. It has a steep learning curve, but once you have mastered it the reward is an efficient, powerful and flexible scanning workflow that is almost unrivaled by any other scanning program period. The posts above describe a two step workflow that results in the RAW scans being saved, and then subsequently “developed”. The key thing here is that if you perform the first pass correctly you never have to go through the tedious scanning process again–like camera RAW files, you can reprocess the scanner RAWs as many times as you like from the hard drive. My second pass is usually to process the RAWs into TIFFs (again using vuescan), and after that I can edit them using GIMP or Raw Therapee for further processing, or run a batch operation using ImageMagick to sharpen, possibly downsample and convert to JPEG for the web.

VueScan 1

Excellent product, highly recommended. According to his web site, there is now a decent book describing a workflow using vuescan, and I only wish that had been around when I was learning it. As it was I remember scouring quite a few web pages and a suffered a few false starts before I finally figured out the subtleties of the program and how to make the most of it.  Nothing like having to scan the same batch of slides again and again to encourage you to figure out how to avoid those mistakes.

VueScan 2

February 5, 2011

On Leaving a Photographic Legacy

Filed under: archiving, articles, photographers, photography, photos — Tags: , — Eric Jeschke @ 12:36 pm

There from Here

Key: R20110123-155615

Regular readers may be wondering what happened to my series on a Linux-based photography workflow. I haven’t forgotten it. I was interrupted by a business trip to Japan and some out-of-town visitors. I have a couple of articles almost done on that and those will be coming up soon.

Meanwhile I leave you with another column I wrote for the local photography club newsletter.

======= =======
The 1/250 Second Banana

Dear Readers,

Do you have an interest in your photographic legacy? I am referring to your body of photographic work and your association with it after you move on from this world.

It’s an interesting question to think about. For some, it is all about the journey, and not about the legacy; they could care less what happens to their photographs after they are gone. For others, it may be important to keep the photographs available and even documented/organized so that their children, grandchildren or interested family historians can have interesting material to sift through. For some photography is enough of their life’s work that they would like broader recognition of some kind. Many artists are not appreciated so much in their time, but only after they pass on. Some may already have a body of prominent work, and have historical or financial considerations to consider. Finally, even the most mundane photographs may be of great interest to anthropologists and historians of the future, to understand what life was like in our times. Imagine a researcher 1000 years from now recovering and decoding digital images or negatives from a carefully preserved and documented time capsule.

If you are interested in a photographic legacy for any of these reasons, it is well worth your while to think about what you can do now to aid those will come after. If you follow photography news on the internet you will no doubt by now have heard of Vivian Maier, a slightly eccentric french-american nanny that spent most of her life in Chicago and amassed decades worth of mid-to-late century street photography shots, mostly taken with a Rollei TLR. She did not make any concerted effort to organize or show her photography, and consequently almost no one knew of her work. After her death, several boxes of hers that were in storage were auctioned off at a business that routinely sells abandoned items. The boxes contained a few prints, a number of developed rolls of negatives, and even more rolls of undeveloped film. They were purchased by a young Chicago-area businessman named John Maloof who had an interest in real-estate: rummaging through the boxes, he recognized some of the locations in some of the prints and thought that there might be some historical interest. Although not a photographer himself, after spending some time examining the prints and negatives, they began to capture his imagination. Vivian clearly had a very good eye for street photography. He began to scan some of the negatives and prints and post some of them on the Flickr street photography groups, asking if there was anything interesting about the work. Due to the overwhelmingly positive feedback and interest he received, he began to educate himself about photography, street photography and Vivian Maier. Who was this interesting and reclusive woman? Well, long story short, due to his efforts there is now significant public interest in her work, and a show of her work is now on display at the Chicago Cultural Center through April 3rd. Maloof and his associates have raised money to make a book and a film about her life. It seems certain that she will be ultimately be recognized somewhere in the pantheon of important street photographers of the 20th century.

With a great story like this, it is easy to overlook the fact that her boxes of photographs could very easily have ended up in a landfill. Plastic and paper being what they are, it is unlikely that she would have any legacy, however minor, but for a very lucky break. If she had taken any steps in thinking about her photographic legacy she might have improved the odds greatly, and perhaps received at least some recognition during her lifetime. There are two important lessons here: one is to try and show your work to people, and the other is to try to insure that your photographs are safely protected, organized and documented. Accomplish both and you greatly increase the chances that you may receive some recognition for your work in this life, and perhaps more importantly, that someone else with an interest in your work may find it after you are gone, possibly resulting in posthumous recognition or at least making it of use to others.

Although digital images may seem ephemeral, being only bits on some kind of storage media, they also offer a very compelling way to safeguard your work because they can be duplicated without loss of quality. By copying your files to multiple media, and storing them in multiple locations (for example, a cool, dry room in your home, a safe-deposit box at the bank, and a secure location on the internet), you greatly reduce the chances of a catastrophic loss of your work. Mold, theft, fire, hurricane, etc. will not deprive you of your work. If you shoot film, or produce hand-altered prints, I highly recommend scanning your work to afford the same kinds of protection. Be sure to check the locally-accessible media periodically, and transfer to newer, safer formats when possible. This does not have to be onerous; once or twice a year might be sufficient.

When storing your work, consider carefully the importance of widely used and understood image file formats like TIFF and JPEG. Proprietary RAW formats come and go, and due to the short-sighted and protective nature of camera companies some of these formats have even contained encrypted parts. Due to the huge number of JPEG images out there it is very likely that someone 200 years from now will have a way to view one. Whether we can say the same for the unique RAW format of a Canon DSLR camera that sold from 2003-2004 is highly questionable.

Finally, consider the ways in which you can make your work visible/accessible to others. Not only is this helpful in receiving possibly useful feedback, but you greatly increase the chances the someone will recognize or remember that you have a body of photographic work, and when you pass away, it may receive increased scrutiny. Shows, magazines and other short-lived exhibitions are good for creating interest, but they tend to pass quickly. Nevertheless they increase the likelihood of someone taking further interest in your work. Consider longer term exposure: is there a place where you can donate a piece of work that will hang for a long time? Making a book and giving a few copies to interested family or friends is also good. Putting your work online in a web site is yet another way (and there is a synergy here with having an off-site copy of your work). For a web site it is important to remember that just creating a web site is not enough to drive interest (if you build it they will not necessarily come); usually one needs to engage in activities that drive traffic and eyeballs to the work (e.g. blogging, marketing, etc.). Still, just having the work internet accessible means that someone could discover it more easily, and that could be significant.

Time to wrap up. I hope that I have made the point that no matter what kind of photographer you are, there is a case for a photographic legacy, and that it is worthwhile thinking about it. Perhaps your decision is not to leave a legacy, and that is a reasonable choice, if consciously made. Perhaps that was Vivian’s decision. Yet I think that was not her decision. The fact that she carted these boxes of things around from employer to employer, and finally into storage tells me that they were very important to her, and that she was thinking a little bit about her photographic legacy. But Vivian Maier got lucky that John Maloof found her work just in time. Even back then she could have been more careful.

Till next time,

Eric Jeschke

ps. for more information on Vivian Maier, visit her article on Wikipedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vivian_Maier) and follow the links at the bottom.

August 23, 2009

On Folios

Filed under: articles, books, photos, printing, process — Tags: , , , — Eric Jeschke @ 12:24 am

Tyler with "Junior"

Key: R20090619-102632-levels

I’ve been thinking a little bit about folios lately.  For years I’ve wanted to put together a portfolio of real physical prints.  I think I’ve always put it off because I imagined it would be a lot of work to comb through all my vast image collection and try to pick out the best ones, and then painstakingly print them and bind it all up nicely.  Nevertheless, the idea continued to bubble up to my consciousness again and again. It seems like it would be a very helpful exercise to develop further as a photographer.

Enter the folio.  The difference is perhaps insignificant in all but a few letters, but to me it means all the difference: a folio is just a set of photographic prints about a theme. In other words, a less daunting, and far more manageable task. And again, other bloggers are giving me food for thought.  Over at the Landscapist, Mark Hobson has been talking up folios for a while now.  He provided a link to the excellent Brooks Jensen page What is a Folio? I like the way Brooks thinks.  His elegant and clear ideas about folios and edition printing resonate with me.

Finally, Paul Butzi got my brain really humming with a couple of posts on his journey with folios, which is all wrapped up with his efforts to get a PDF book generated for his SoFoBoMo photos.  Feeling like I’m drafting in his thought pattern here, it got me thinking about my own LaTeX based SoFoBoMo book–the more I thought about it the more logical it seemed to simply add another file that would share the same web and print photos as the book, but be targeted to a folio.

So I dived in and, sure enough, LaTeX gets another star for time saved. In almost no time I put together a simple 12 image folio based on a subset of the images in the book. The web version weighs in at 3MB and you can check it out here–I really like the way this turned out. Now, granted, it seems a bit absurd to make a artsy folio about a whimsical chickens book, but that’s not the point. The point is that I made a folio–finally.  And I have a great system in place to make another one that can be more considered.

From Brooks’ description, I got the basic notions down of the title page, a single front matter page, the images, and a colophon.  Clean and simple. The web version adds the image key for each image to the bottom of the page.  You may have noticed that I like to provide the key for each image whenever I post an image: it’s extremely helpful when communicating with others about your work to have no ambiguity about which photograph one is talking about.  I tried adding titles, but in the end I felt that leaving the photos untitled allowed my eyes to explore the images with less distraction.  Somehow the key is not as distracting as the title, to me.

The higher resolution print version of the folio leaves the image pages unadorned with any text whatsoever.  This version is sized for US letter, a standard ink jet paper size here in the states. My plan is to print out the PDF onto a nice set of Harman Fiber Gloss AL or similar. I print most of my photos with Photoshop on a Mac, so I’m going to have to do a little experimentation to see if I can print a PDF and get the same quality of ink jet output. I would assume that the Mac/Adobe will honor the color profiles in the PDF images and do the right thing, but we’ll see.  Finally, I will have to figure out a nice enclosure like Brooks shows to enclose the leaves of the folio.

I have to admit that I have not been too keen on the idea of a PDF for an online folio in the past. I’ve looked at several, and always felt that somehow it was a little backward/awkward for something that you could put up on the web directly, vs. embedded in a PDF.  But I’m warming up to the idea.  I think that it might actually make you stand out a little more from the crowd.  If you put a PDF out there, lots of folks will pass it by; they are in too much of a rush to rapidly click their way through more of the morass of photos that is the web.  Someone that takes the time to download your PDF and open it up might take a more considered look, might just linger a little longer. It’s a slightly different environment (which, BTW, looks great in full screen presentation mode–try it!).

The final kicker that sells whole idea is the print version.  The PDF was designed originally for precise layout of print documents; an heir from the postscript tradition. So it should be a great format for producing a printed folio–one of the holy grails of my journey as a photographer.  Some might feel that a nicely done photo book serves the same function as a folio.  Umm, not quite.  Go read the Brooks Jensen article linked above: he makes a good case for the folio.  The main point is that the viewer is interacting with prints, not a book.  And they can mat and frame them, etc.

Now I just need to get a few folios under my belt and I have a feeling it will feel like I’ve produced a portfolio…

March 14, 2009

Scanning, again

Filed under: articles, photos, process, scanners, scanning, workflow — Tags: , , , , , , — Eric Jeschke @ 10:11 pm

Untitled

Well, sorry to go on so long about this, but I keep adjusting my work flow to fit the changing requirements of the images, and I thought I would keep you informed. If you are coming to this fresh, you might have a look at post 1, post 2 and post 3 first.

The earlier slide sets I had been scanning had a lot of water horizon shots, and because tilted water horizons bug me (unless trying for that effect), I felt the need to rotate the scanned images to level, and so I set the “Border (%)” parameter of Vuescan to 5% to give me essentially an extra bit of space for cropping around the fairly good auto crop selection, since I was rotating and cropping manually afterward. The rotations were often minor, and due to slight slide mismount or angled position in the batch slide holder as, or more often than, photographer composition errors.

However with the more recent sets (photo here a typical example from one) I feel no urgent need to rotate. Indeed, I’d be hard pressed to figure out which way to rotate and how much, without a level horizon to guide me. So I began setting the “Border (%)” setting to -1%, in order to crop off the slight black borders that were being included in the automatically selected crop (it’s fairly conservative about your borders). This yields sets in which I don’t have to manually post process every picture afterward, but only the occasional one. Again, just to be clear, this is in the second pass from scanned RAWs to baked TIFFs. I’m still including the 5% extra border in the initial scans to RAW, just to be safe. And having the RAWs on disk means I can rescan the entire set to TIFF without loading a slide, in a fraction of the time. Sweetness.

Again, using the load/save settings feature of Vuescan made it easy to save these settings under the name “raw-scans-to-cropped-tiffs”.

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