Of eyes and smiles, of eyes and affection

Autumn 1

Autumn 2

Autumn 3

Here are three photographs taken on September 19th. Not much difference between them, but still, somehow each has a different feeling in it.

I browsed the book Here far away - photographs from the years 1964-2011 by Pentti Sammallahti, once again catching a glimpse of something wordless, timeless, uniquely human. Earlier I borrowed the book from the local library, but now that I own it I look forward to returning to this book again and again. For me there is only one another photographer that means so much: Sam Abell.

Also, I got today a book of photographs by Antero Takala, depicting scenes taken during the polar night when sun is below horizon all day: Kaamos - Hämärän maisemat - Landscapes of Darkness. I was impressed. But this is a book which needs time to digest, not an easy one.

(Posting title is from the poem Vincent, Homesick for the Land of Pictures by Peter Gizzi.)

Pondering how to teach photography

Roadside

Flow

Foam

I posted yesterday some photographs taken at the Laajalahti bay. I remembered that I had taken photographs there also in 2009 - and quite different year we had then. On February 9, 2009, the spring was more advanced than it is now, two months later in the year.

It was nice to note I was then reading a book by Sam Abell; he is still a great example to me. I wrote: "... how basic, ordinary subjects of photography can turn in skilled hands into poetry, showing the viewers what it means to be human. [...] I'm very far away from that target, but by practising I hope that I'm able to see better, and thus at least better appreciate photographs taken by others."

In the "appreciation" area I think I have learned something during these two years. It has been fun.

I have continued to read books on photography. Of some of them it is possible to say something similar to what was written in a book review by The Times: "He is the best kind of writer - the kind who makes you feel like you're are genius, rather than that he's a genius."

However, sometimes it is not so.

I'm currently reading, thanks to the excellent local library system, Alain Briot's Mastering Photographic Composition, Creativity, and Personal Style (Rocky Nook, 2009). This is a hard book to read for me, as I have a problem in adjusting to the tone of the writing. It is not often I run into such difficulties, but here I'm bothered a lot.

Many books on photography, and those which I value a lot, fall into two categories: containing either excellent photographs accompanied by some personal observations by the photographer, not taking the focus off the photographs; or containing teaching in which the writer has the honest intention of making as good a job as possible in sharing his/her experience.

However, Briot's book seems to be more about marketing the photographer and his work, not so much about teaching. I may be completely wrong, but that is how the text comes through. Briot is such a well-know artist that he shouldn't need to stress the point how good he is.

The book starts with an argument - a good one, I may say - about whether it is the camera which makes the photograph, or is it the photographer. But even in this text there is an underlaying current saying that Briot is the Photographer, and even though others might buy the same equipment, it is Briot who is the master. And in fact, Briot will win even when using inferior equipment.

Maybe I just opened the book in the wrong mood or something. Have to come back to this later.

But when one forgets (most of) the text and just looks at the photographs, this is mostly an excellent book. By just looking at the photographs, one can learn a lot. And there are occasional passages in which the skills do come through, and one learns new things.

However, my approach to photography is very, very different than Briot's. I don't spend "days, months, even years" in post-processing the photographs, and I don't shoot RAW with high-end cameras.

I just take snapshots with the Panasonic LX3, straight jpeg, usually with no post-processing. So who I am to discuss the problems with this book?

Humanism

Pine

Windows

Streetside

Cars

Today I was rather busy, and didn't go for a walk. Nevertheless, thanks to various other physical activities, I'm quite exhausted. And it was a gray day.

I have been rather lazy during recent weeks and not commented much on other blogs. I noticed Andreas pondering the lack of comments on his fine b&w photographs - good that he got some responses. Go and have a look at the photographs.

Today there was an earthquake and tsunami in Japan, a terrible thing. It so happened I was reading yesterday the book Pocket Gardens by Michael Freeman and Noriko Sakai, discussing tsubo-niwa, the Japanese tradition of small gardens. This is a fine book. In the garden book by Sam Abell there are some better individual photographs, but as a book on gardens, this one is really, really good: all photographs are clear, illustrative and well thought out.

And the last topic for today is an article at NYT titled The New Humanism, which is a bit soft and vague, but provided something to think about, specifically the discussion on "deeper talents", which are the following:

• Attunement: the ability to enter other minds and learn what they have to offer.
  
• Equipoise: the ability to serenely monitor the movements of one’s own mind and correct for biases and shortcomings.
  
• Metis: the ability to see patterns in the world and derive a gist from complex situations.
  
• Sympathy: the ability to fall into a rhythm with those around you and thrive in groups.
  
• Limerence: This isn’t a talent as much as a motivation. The conscious mind hungers for money and success, but the unconscious mind hungers for those moments of transcendence when the skull line falls away and we are lost in love for another, the challenge of a task or the love of God. Some people seem to experience this drive more powerfully than others.
  

And excellent opinion piece in the society where we live and where being together doesn't seem to be a thing worthy of cherishing.

Developing taste

1

Snow

Frozen

Lights

Wall

The blog A Photo Editor pointed to the 1/125 blog of Nick Shere, on the topic of "why we love bad photography".

In these two blogs there arise a division of photography into two: good photography and bad photography. This is social construction of reality in practice!

Nick Shere writes: 'In photography, the situation is somewhat more dire, because it is much, much harder for viewers to move freely between the “unliterary” photographic realm and the “literary” photographic realm. There is hardly any middle ground between them, the way there is with books.'

But is there such a thing as developing your taste? Going to galleries, looking at the Art of price-winning photographers? What is "taste" after all?

In other words, where is (or is there) the "priesthood" of photography, those whose theories (and thus, social construction of reality) determine the good and the bad?

I have read my share of literature, all genres from fantasy and detective stories to really, really serious non-fiction, and all genres have their masters. Some can write, some don't, but many of those who can write will never get a Nobel prize for all their skill. Some pulp writers write very, very well indeed.

Also, I have my favorite photographers, of which some are well know, for example Sam Abell, but some are known by only a handful of people. For example, I would imagine that only a few hundred, or maybe a few thousand people know of the excellent work of photography bloggers such as Markus Spring, Andreas Manessinger, Paul Lester, Mark Hobson, and Cedric Canard.

And thus: where is the authority to say what is good and what is bad?

Sam Abell and the "full-frame aesthetics"

Bush, originally uploaded by jiihaa.

Berries, originally uploaded by jiihaa.

After wrting so much about small-sensor cameras vs. full-frame I suddenly realized something about the favorite photographer of mine, Sam Abell: although he is most certainly using full-frame (35 mm film) cameras, it doesn't dominate the look of his images. In fact, they are quite modest in using such "special effects" such as shallow depth of field.

Mostly, he captures what is in front of the camera, and doesn't point to it heavy-handed. In fact, some of his images are so natural that they seem to be taken the first thing after walking out of the door. But that is of course the skill of the artist.

But why then has "bokeh look" become so common in photography? Is it a fashion thing?

Maybe related to this, Paul Lester has got his hands on the Canon S90, an advanced small-sensor camera. He managed to take impressive photographs at first try, even without reading the manual. Which shows that when you have the skills, the camera doesn't matter so much.

As a different kind of example, there was a review of the Samsung EX1/TL500, which had lots of measurements etc., but was somewhat spoiled by the following: "The large front element is protected by a clip-on lens cap, which is a bit of a let-down, being not up to the quality standard set by the camera and, in addition, a nuisance to use. No tether was supplied with the review camera, although the user manual indicates one should come in the box. However, it looks like being quite tricky to fit."

Well, what can you say? I haven't had any trouble with the lens cap of the LX3, but then I have used an SLR previously. And on the Canon Ixus 400 the built-in lens cover got stuck and I didn't manage to get it repaired.

Seeing - and "photographs that never were"

Fallen, originally uploaded by jiihaa.

Bent, originally uploaded by jiihaa.

Cut, originally uploaded by jiihaa.

After looking at Sam Abell's excellent book Seeing Gardens I was inspired. I felt that the book opened my eyes, and I saw opporturnities for taking photographs everywhere.

But the problem was I couldn't make those "seen" photographs to result in photographs that were any good. Something went wrong, and the result was not at all what I was aiming at.

As a demonstration of this, the three photographs shown here were all taken late yesterday afternoon. While taking them I thought I was "seeing", but later realized I couldn't capture what I was aiming for. So, these are just a reflection of what might have been.

I got a bit worried about this, and even blamed the camera for the failure. But I don't think the LX3 is so bad that it can't produce a photograph when there is one to be taken.

Then I realized that, once again, the problem was in the photographer, not in the camera. So, the only way forward is to try to see better. And I guess taking a lot of failed photographs is not bad either. From each failure you learn something.

I also started to think about the feeling you get when you have taken a few dozen photographs and things start to feel like "flowing". You get inspired and use the camera with confidence. In my case, perhaps there is a natural explanation for this: I usually take photographs while walking, and thus the natural endorphins start to act. So, the feeling of "flow" may be just the "endorphin rush", similar to "runner's high". But I'm not sure of this either.

Perhaps I'm taking photographs the wrong way. Instead of walking around, perhaps I should spend hours in one spot, exploring the possibilities. On the other hand, I enjoy walking a lot. In fact, sometimes it is hard to tell whether I like walking more than taking photographs.

Seeing gardens

Glove, originally uploaded by jiihaa.

Wall and plot, originally uploaded by jiihaa.

Playground, originally uploaded by jiihaa.

"At the heart of every garden lies an idea." Such lofty words are written in Sam Abell's book Seeing Gardens. The book is somewhat lofty, but also down-to-earth. It is a joy of discovery for the reader, whether she is young or old. And it is of interest to both photographers and gardeners, hobbyist or pro.

This book must be one of the best book purchases I have ever made. It cost 14 euro, of which two thirds was shipping. It is softcover, but the book was in excellent condition, and there are over 200 pages to view.

I bought the book through Amazon US although the book was actually shipped from UK. It is still available. (It is available also from Amazon UK, but the total price was higher.)

Sam Abell is the photographer whose work I have most consistently admired, returning to it again and once again.

The [three] photographs [above] were taken today while I was walking to the post office to fetch the book.

Yesterday we had storm at night, as shown in the photograph below. Today I thought that it would have been nice to catch some lightning strikes in a photograph, but never mind.

How did you learn photography?

Rock, originally uploaded by jiihaa.

Parking lot, originally uploaded by jiihaa.

Path, originally uploaded by jiihaa.

At work during lunch a colleague asked a surprising question. "How did you learn photography? Just by yourself or did you study it?"

As often in these situations, I couldn't give a good answer, just saying that anyone can sometimes take a good photograph or two, but then there are some people who take them consistently. I just shoot. Sometimes I'm lucky.

Later I thought about this a bit more. I can't say that I have learned photography, but I'm trying to learn. And the good thing about this is that I have started to understand photographs better, and also learned to enjoy visual beauty better than previously, even without a camera.

My favorite photographer is Sam Abell, to whose photography I return again and again. And then there are many excellent photographers on the net who each are producing an impressive body of work. I'm lucky to be able to learn from their example.

But I need to stop now, it has been a heavy week. Lots of hard thinking had to be done at work, one of the most demanding weeks in a long time. Now, weekend ahead.

Here are three photographs taken during the last few days. It has been clouded, foggy and rainy, not much sunshine these days I'm afraid.

So far I have been lucky, the flu hasn't hit me yet. I even commuted by bicycle to work yesterday even though I felt a little bit weak. It was rather nice, and no bad aftereffects.

Learning to love the muted colors

Stump, originally uploaded by jiihaa.

Log, originally uploaded by jiihaa.

For a long time I waited for the bright autumn leaf colors to come out. But that did not happen this year. What we got instead were greenish and yellowish colors at most, usually it was a sort of brownish.

Today I suddenly realized that it is actually quite beautiful. There were thick clouds, and the sun invisible and rather weak already, but there was a nice feeling to the landscape, of waiting, perhaps a bit like dreaming. And that was something you could try to catch in a photograph.

And this reminded me of my favorite photographer - Sam Abell. Many of his images contain this kind of muted light - muted but beautiful. As Abell has written, photography is about seeing, and about making photographs, not taking them.

Thus, one lesson learned, again. Never try to take photographs because what you are trying to see may not be there. Instead, see.

Here are two photographs from today, which I feel are not too bad. At least I was not trying to picture something which was not there.