Photographing with Intention
On our excursion to Point Sublime in Grand Canyon National Park, we unfortunately arrived in the worst part of the day - it was nearly noon. Plus it was a very hazy day. And while the view was, for lack of a better word, sublime, and the clouds were offering a dance of sunlight across the landscape, the conditions were not exceptional for photography. This was not going to be one of those instances where one could simply pick up the camera and make knock-out images, and we could not wait until sunset to make photographs. So, after waking around the point a while and examining what was being offered to me, I decided that I was going to be very intentional with my image making, and would develop each image I made from Point Sublime to completion (read: to print). In some ways it was a test of how discriminating I could be if I tried to hold myself to the highest standards possible. I wound up making three images.
I quickly settled on some consistency for the images - all would be black and white, and all with the same square format. I could change lenses if I wanted to (and I did, two were made with my favorite slight-telephoto, one with a more normal lens) and, of course, I could photograph from different location.
As I tried to visualize the images I wanted to make, a big part of it was where I wanted the light to fall. Given that the images would be in black and white, I envisioned brighter lit foreground areas surrounded by fields of dark. So I looked for what I thought would make an interesting foreground image, and then I would frame my images accordingly. Given that Mother Nature dos not answer to my beck and call, I had to both wait, hoping the light would fall perfectly where I wanted it to, or more practically, make exposures every time I felt that the light was expressive in a way I had intended, even if not perfectly where I had envisioned.
As a result, while I was not profligate in my image making, I didn’t hold back on the number of exposures I made due to the changing lighting conditions (this is digital after all, which means I don’t have a per-shot cost to image making). I made 25 exposures for the first image; 16 for the second, and 29 for the third.
The first image was made looking towards the east. The foreground geologic fin had an arm (or would you call that a wing?) that was pointing towards me and my goal was to have that arm lit in isolation, or at the least, to have the whole foreground fin in sunlight with the background in shadow.
As I mentioned earlier, I made quite a few images at this location. When I saw a patch of sunlight start to work its way up the arm, I knew that was likely the lighting I was looking for, so I made several images as it worked its way upward - uncertain if it would suddenly disappear as other hopeful prospects had. When it reached the top, I was confident that the last image would be the one I would use. But still, I waited around a bit for another spotlight to come that lit up the whole fin. My initial impression had been right - the narrower band of light made for the stronger image.
The second image was made looking towards the west. The landscape was more open there, and the spots of light racing across it made the layered features much more effective in creating depth. Again, the foreground feature was key and needed at least some direct lighting. Very quickly a nice pattern started working its across the ridge of the foreground, and when the next layer back dropped into deep shadow, I kept photographing as the light worked it way across the fin towards the head on the right. I stopped pretty quickly with this side of the canyon, knowing that it couldn’t get much better than that and very confident that even with the few shots I had, picking the right one would be difficult (it was).
The last photograph had me looking eastward again. My focus was on the contrast between the foreground ridge and the Colorado River, deep down on the floor of the Grand Canyon.
The making of this image became a mini-story about why I was doing what I was doing. I waited from 11:54 (the time of my first exposure for this image) to 12:46 (the time of this image - the last exposure I made at this location) for the sun to hit the head of the ridge. Though I made quite a few other images, none of them had the foreground lit, but each revealed some aspect of the background areas.
As I waited, observed and waited some more, I couldn’t help but follow (by sound more than by sight) the other people who had arrived at Point Sublime. One was a couple where the woman was obviously a photographer. Her first response had been my first impression of the day - the haze really killed much of the view. But I heard her start to work photographing.
She had a pretty hefty DSLR so I could hear her mirror slapping every time she made a photograph. Over time, she made her way a bit below me and I could see that she had put on a telephoto zoom and was pointing her camera downwards, making tight-cropped detailed images undoubtedly. But she was making shot after shot after shot, rat tat tat, almost like a machine gun. It dawned on me that she had been doing that the entire time I listened to her camera firing.
It made me wonder how my three images would weigh against her hundreds of images. Sometimes I wonder if I need to make more images when I go out to photograph, and then again, I wonder just as often whether I should be making fewer images when I go out and to be more intentional about my image making. And that was the purpose of this exercise, to be more intentional with my images - each and every time I release the shutter.
In case you were wondering, yes, I did carry on this exercise to completion. I printed each image 9” square on 11x14 Paolo Duro SoftGloss Rag by Red River Paper Company, a paper Ann had found that was described as close to the old F type glossy darkroom papers (when air dried). They’re right, close, but not a perfect match to my beloved Oriental Seagull. However, it is the closest I’ve found yet, which means we’ll keep on using it! The prints have a lovely quality to them that is lost on screen. As prints inevitably are, these are more intimate and they invite you to explore the shadows in a way that monitors seem unable to do.
In case you want to actually see the prints, you’ll have to visit Kit. One of the reasons I couldn’t release this blog post earlier (or do a printing the image post on them) was because they were a present and I didn’t want to ruin the surprise. He now has them, so bug him if you want a close-up look!