Being There

I’ve been perusing the many photographers’ Youtube channels to see if I can learn something, given that most of my photo work is from the pre-digital Stone Age of imagery. Back when a press of the button where and when you were defined what you ended up with. 

Yes, I have some things to learn — mostly about how to alter what you saw in ways reminiscent of how history works —  but not so much about the essence of the art/craft. In fact, most of the experts have little to say on what I consider photography to really be about.

‘f-8 and be there.’

It’s nice when you run across an aphorism that genuinely says it all in few words and this one is of that sort. As mentioned last time, photography for me is about where the photog has been and a bit about what he/she saw and did while… being there…

The ‘f-8’ part of the quote is a sly way of telling us that all techno-babble and faux-philosophizing is really irrelevant (f-8 being a good aperture setting for depth of field and lens definition, meaning you don’t need to know much more) and that the most important aspect of ‘good’ photography is the constant act of putting oneself in a place where interesting photos can be got. Period. 

I have not come across even one self-proclaimed photo maven who has mentioned this, obvious (to me) as it is. What I’m saying is that a photographer’s body of work is really a definition of his/her lifestyle, and, really, little more. It’s not a summation or indication of an emotional state, let alone a worldview or inner life. An utter scumbag can create beautiful and even seemingly empathetical imagery. 

How about luck? Isn’t ‘being there’ often a matter of luck? See the image above of the Bighorn? I Arrived at The Badlands yesterday and shot that one within an hour or so. Looked out from the cliffside campsite I found and there it was

. Listen: A wildlife photographer could go for years and not grab a Bighorn shot this good. Enlarge it and look at the quality of the light, and the shadows, how one forms the animal’s backdrop and makes him pop, and how the shadow in the upper right quadrant perfectly balances it. (Even the little bits of scrub brush  are perfect.)  If the sun had been hitting the shelf behind him this would just be a so-so image. It’s actually an amazing moment, and it was gone in 30 seconds, as the sun dipped below the western horizon and all was in shadow.

So yes I was lucky. I could have camped somewhere else or clouds (it was cloudy) could have been in front of the sun as it set rather than parting to let that gorgeous warm light come through. 

Had that happened I would have put a different image in that space, one maybe just as pleasing, and that I was likewise ‘lucky’ to get. See, if you decide to live on the road traveling to amazing places you eventually/always get ‘lucky,’ although the specifics will vary.

See the one up there of the other rig? There was a family outside it, a mom, a pop and a couple kids, toying with the telescope. I shot about 50 images of them, hoping for something interesting, what exactly I didn’t know. This was the last one and absent the little girl’s red pants and how I caught her mid-sashay, I wouldn’t be showing it. I would have deleted it with other 49 non-selects. And a different image would be there.

But you may not have any interest in photography, so what’s the point here and what does it have to do with How The World Really Works (HTWRW)? See, what I’m discussing also refers to the level of our personal lives, the way things turn out. The body of work concept, I mean. You live your life a certain way, the details will meander with the luck of the draw and so forth, but — unless something catastrophic or otherwise spectacular passes — by ‘being there’ you will pretty much get what you deserve. Or, as with most humans, your life will be drab and uninteresting. Up to you and no one else.

To further make my point I’ve concocted another slide show, consisting of photos I took during the winters of 1995-96 on the island of Tobago. Take my word, each image is a part of the story of my life at that time. No more, no less. I could go on for an hour about some of the photos you’ll see. But mainly, I was there.

Allan