Artistic License
Photography is a fascinating art. I’m sure all of the visual arts are as well, in that each gets you seeing the world differently than you normally would, however photography is somewhat unique in that, at least in the way I do it, the subject must be there before you so you’re somewhat limited to photographing what is “there.” The challenge is often in seeing what is there, to include the subtle qualities of light and visual changes that are happening, and then recording it. Photography is an art of vision, emotion and craft.There are a lot of approaches to photography and the creative license that one gives oneself when creating an image. Perhaps the most famous approach is Ansel Adams’s “previsualization” where he claimed to see an image in its entirety - from the composition, to the proper film exposure, film development and then printing - before making the exposure. Not to disparage Ansel, because he is one of my sages of straight photography, but the mystique that has formed around his concept of “previsualization” is a bit blown out of proportion given that the concept doesn’t quite explain why he printed his images more dramatically as he grew older than he did in his youth. Did he previsualize all the different versions of the prints he made before exposure? I say that in jest, but in some respects not. I would answer that question yes, because of his focus on actually seeing something photographically, and then doing everything possible to capture that on a negative (then film, now digital) that will not only allow one to realize what you saw, but will maximize the opportunity for further expression in the print, which he called the performance.
Ansel was trained as a classical musician and ultimately chose photography over music. But he constantly drew extensively from his music background, even to go so far as to compare the negative to the musical score and the print to the performance. If every musician performed the score the same, why go to a performance more than once? No, the musician continues to grow, learn, change moods and consequently to interpret the score differently. Photography is not much different, there is a lot of room for expression that is consistent with the score.
In addition, I consider myself a “straight” photographer, which means I tend to follow a tradition of photography that seeks to not mimic other arts, but to use the camera in an “honest” (to use the words from the founders of the f64 movement) manner to maximize the uniquely photographic qualities of photography. What that generally means is that most of my photographs look like what was there, with some latitude for expanding/shortening the length of time (shutter speed) that occurs in an image, or expanding/shortening what is/is not in focus (aperture), and some manipulation of tonal relationships and color values to bring the image to what I saw. But in large part, I work with what is there (I don’t turn yellow flowers red), indeed, that is the fun part of photography, it makes me see more of what is there, and what more is there, and I see things I normally would not have seen if I wasn’t thinking about making photographs.
Throw all of the above in with the concept of artistic license and there is a world of discovery and experimentation to be had, which is a round about way of getting to the images for this post.
Dawn is very different than dusk. It’s more unpredictable, its effects vary more on a given day, and its changes are often much more subtle. At least I’ve found that to be the case. There are, of course, the physical reasons - more moisture in the air, etc - but I wonder how many are psychological as well, given that I’m often not up and focused on appreciating sunrises nearly as much as sunsets. And, face it, sunsets can be incredibly stunning and dramatic in ways I’ve not seen for sunrises, but this is about sunrise and change. And how subtle and frequent that change can be.
As mentioned in a previous blog post, I spent parts of the second morning at Finley NWR pointing the camera at the rising sun. Given the morning mist that settled in between astronomical and civil dawn, I expected a variety of visual effects to occur and consciously focused on trying to see and record those effects. Little did I realize how dramatic they would be and how I would later push the different moods I was able to photograph.
There is not much more I can say other than all of these were taken from the same spot (literally, except for the very last shot, the camera was fixed on the tripod the whole time and I did nothing more than change exposure and confirm focusing between shots) and then worked in the digital darkroom to maximize what I saw in the image. The changing colors, the change in apparent brightness and then darkness, the subtlety and then harshness was all there . . . momentarily.
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
FYI: all of these photographs were made within a fourteen minute period (07:55:53 to 08:09:51 according to the EXIF data) and they are posted in the order they were made.