Saturday, March 30, 2013

The Ephemeral Landscape

Racing To Catch Up With Things That Don't Move

This isn't one of those self-indulgent tales where the photographer seeks appreciation for how much work they did or how many challenges they overcame. No one cares whether a photo required seven days of hiking in the snow or whether it was taken on a whim during a leisurely stroll.

Image quality and emotional impact are the only things that matter to the viewer.

The subject of this article is time. How is time critical to the making of a photograph, particularly an outdoor photograph that depends on fleeting elements such as weather and fading light? How must time be managed, and what planning does this require?

I wanted to capture a photo of the salt flats at Badwater Basin at sunrise. Specifically, I wanted a photo that showed the geometric salt patters highlighted by a backdrop of colorful light from the predawn sky.

This objective suggested a plan of action and defined specific temporal demands.

I would need to determine the hour of sunrise and estimate how long the color in the sky would last.

I would need to know the distance to the approximate shooting location in order to estimate how long it would take to reach that point, first by car and then later on foot.

I would need to give myself time to fine tune the composition, to focus effectively and determine the required depth of field. I would also need to work around the exposure challenges inherent in blending a brightening sky with a still dark foreground.

a photograph of sunrise on the badwater salt flats death valley by daniel south
Daybreak At Badwater Under A Crescent Moon

Everything leading up to the "peak moment" would need to be dedicated to reaching the shooting position and preparing to take the shot. This included loading gear into the car, driving and hiking in darkness, seeking the exact shooting location and finalizing the composition.

Landscape photography doesn't seem as though it would require a race against time. Mountains don't move. Salt flats are relatively static. There were no animals in the frame to become startled and run away. Yet, I needed to cover great distances and work very quickly in order to capture this shot. As it was, I barely made it. A few minutes of delay would have caused me to miss this opportunity altogether.

Light moves and changes rapidly. Atmospheric conditions are in constant flux. If we want to capture a particular light or mood, we need to move even more quickly than the changes in these environmental factors. We need to anticipate upcoming conditions accurately and then adjust in seconds if and when things don't turn out exactly as expected.

This is all part of capturing the magic moment, and it's what makes the image worthwhile. It's not about how much work we did but about what we were about to create as a result of the effort and planning that went into the shot.

When the viewer sees the image printed or displayed on their computer screen, when they feel a sense of wonder and imagine themselves transported momentarily to the location, that's when the photograph communicates. They don't care how hard your had to work to make it happen. If they are moved by what they see, nothing else matters.

Camera: Canon EOS 5D Mark II

Lens: Canon 16-35mm f/2.8L II

Wishing you great light and meaningful moments!

Copyright © 2013 Daniel R. South
All Rights Reserved

1 comment:

  1. When the viewer looks at a photograph he/she may not think about the difficulties that had to be overcome to take it, but it does add to the experince to know. It adds to the magic and wonder of the viewing experince.