Find a Stage

One Saturday back when I was living in Liberia, I watched a B+H video talk by Adam Marelli where he was talking about photographing people.  One of the tips he gave was to find a stage, and then wait for the performance instead of trying to chase images by constantly roaming around a city.  I’ve found that a particularly helpful tip, even with landscape photography.  Once you find an interesting location, if you realize you’re not there at the right time then figure out when the light will be best and come back then.  And even then, wait to see if nature has something extra to offer.  It’s amazing what a flight of birds can do to a landscape.  So during our recent outing to the Portland Japanese Gardens, that bit of advice immediately came to mind as my eye caught a couple of fish moving around beneath some ferns.  

As I mentioned in my May post about the Gardens, the ponds where the Koi were didn’t offer the best conditions for photographing - in large part because the overcast skies gave a white cast to the surface of the water, which a polarizer couldn’t eliminate for the most part.  I gave up after a couple of images because everything had an unpleasing murky cast, and so I spent my time slowly strolling along the path enjoying the Koi.  Interestingly, there was much more Koi here this time than before.  There was the usual large group of medium sized Koi, some of which I recognized from before, but now there were also a bunch of new, very small Koi about 4-5 inches in size.  And then there were a half dozen or so HUGE monsters that look more like tuna than Koi.  

As I was strolling back on the walkway, I suddenly realized that this one Koi that looked like its back had been gold plated was making its way up towards a fern covered embankment.  And that when the Koi entered the shadow I could see it much more clearly.  I then realized another one of my favorite Koi, a yellow one with long wavy fins was near-by and that there was an image to be had.  My camera was on the tripod, with the legs extended, but folded together as a single leg, so I used it as a monopod, switching on the power button as I pointed the camera towards the image.  The Koi were moving and in a fraction of a second, the LCD screen kicked on, I framed and pressed the shutter and then the fish were gone.

I checked the image - technically flawed, but somewhat useable.  Flawed because it was under exposed, I would have used a better aperture, I hadn’t even had the time to focus (thankfully, the focus point was the same as my last failed effort), and there wasn’t a polarizing filter on the lens (which would have cut the glare just a bit).  A fine example of the adage, “f8 and be there,” except I was actually at f5.6.  But somehow the image worked/

I then looked back at the scene and realized that the shadows from the ferns could help resolve my white skies problem, at least partially.  Looking closer, I realized that I could create a technically sophisticated background with what was before me.  There was the reflection of the sky, and even where the sun was within the frame, but the dark shadows as well.  There’s the fern entering from the left, but the reflections of the ferns as well.

I had my stage, now all I needed to do was wait for the performance to come to me.  I had to stand there for quite some time before Koi started passing along the far bank of the pond (only a few feet away) instead of under the wooden walkway I was standing on.  That’s another lesson I’ve learned, just hang out for awhile out in nature, and you become part of it and the animals start coming back.  As did the Koi.  

And after several less successful attempts, a decent performance came along.  Perhaps the best of the morning, given that in addition to the sub-surface coloration the fish give to the image, one had disturbed the surface of the water, adding some textures on the otherwise relatively still surface; while the other fish passed under the fern off to the left, so that not only do you see the fern above the water, you see it pass through the water and below, as well as the reflection of the above-surface part on the water.  

I love images that reward a viewer for carefully looking at the image, and this one does.

I stayed there for quite a while, keeping the same stage and letting different performances come along.  None were as fascinating as the first image or the one immediately above, but they were just as enjoyable.

Enjoyable in part because you have no idea of what the show will be like.  A Koi might be heading to just the right place, and as you wait in anticipation with your finger on the shutter for just the right moment - it turns away.  Other times, they keep gliding and you hope you timed it right so the image works.

There are no secrets to photography.  No magic tricks to give you a wonderful image each and every time.  There’s just work, lots of it, and patience.  

And every once in a while, a tip comes to mind that helps to nudge you along in the right direction so that your work can be a bit more fruitful.