I took this photograph in Havana, Cuba as the light was fading towards the end of the day.  You will notice that the musician is in focus, but the women are not.  For me, the blur of the women indicates motion. 

So many times we come across a street scene that exists for only a few seconds, if that.  We don’t always have time to adjust shutter speed so we take the shot, and before we can take a second photo, the scene has changed.  Upon pulling this image up on the monitor, I saw blur.  Does that mean the image is lost or irrelevant?  Not necessarily.

I could have cropped out the women and just showed the musician since he is subject of the image,  however, the women walking past seem to ignore him, as if this is nothing new or interesting to them.  That adds something to the story that the image tells.  Without them, it is the musician.  With them, it is a more complete street scene. 

I look at a lot of photographs in galleries, museums, books and online, and there is often a flaw of some kind, like blur. Think about this.  Does it really ruin the image or does it perhaps add to it in its own way?  If, like me, you’ve competed in photography club competitions, you may well have heard the judges criticize various images because of a slight cut-off of a person, or a blur, or some other minor element.  Hear what they say, but decide for yourself.  If the image works, it works.  I think this one does.  Feel free to disagree.

Louis Pasteur once said that “Chance favors the prepared mind.” The photographer must always be alert; there is no off duty. You never know what you will see, and all of us have stories of the images that got away.

Here is one of my favorites from a few years ago at a bus stop on State Street in the Loop area of Chicago.  Shot in color, I transformed it to black and white because I wanted primarily the silhouette, the shape, and the tones.  Backlit against the advertisement, which amazingly said “man kind,” this captured a woman at the end of day, shopping done, waiting for the bus to go home.  I like it because of its humanity and of the intimate and solitary moment of an individual doing a very normal act like waiting for a bus, and yet I find something profound about this moment, this person, and her place in the city.

I welcome your comments.

From time to time I am asked if there are particular books that I might recommend for the beginning photographer.  There are four types of photography books I bought when starting out.  One was a general guide to photography so I could learn concepts and practicalities of exposure, depth of field, and technical aspects.  A second category related to camera-specific books as a supplement to the manual.  The third type of book was the specialty book, such as one that focuses on landscape photography or printing.  A fourth type that might be considered a specialty type would be one that focuses on a particular image-processing program.  What I found, after a while, was that there was significant redundancy, outdated instructions on a particular software program due to ever changing features, and better and more comprehensive explanations online. 

What you really want to do is find a general "how to" guide that explains not just how to operate the camera but which helps you understand both taking of images and processing them.  A book that covers recommended settings and what they do along with processing features (workflow, working with layers, etc.) will provide the basics.

The specialty books for the most part repeat the same basic principles and applications, albeit in the context of the particular topic.  Sometimes, even if repetitive of basic principles, they are worth buying if the images themselves are inspirational to you.

Which brings me to the main point: mastering basic techniques only teaches you how to take a technically acceptable picture.  The books featuring histories of photography or the work of individual photographers provide context and help you to see what has survived critical and popular acclaim.  In my opinion, the more of these books you read and the more you understand about photography as an art form, the more your eye improves.

There are numerous authors that feature regularly and some write more practically than others.  Some take you step by step through an application; others seem to write the same book over and over, changing the title and shifting the focus a bit but showcasing their own photographs more than providing new insight. 

If I had to mention one author that I found clear and informative, it would be Lee Frost. 
In one of the first books I bought, he simply suggested projects such as photographing the taxi cabs in each city.  This book helped me focus and provide a discipline that has served me well in travel photography.  I learned to create series of images around topics, and that helped me to avoid being overwhelmed in new places when I had limited time.    

After all these years, I still try to shoot taxis.  Here is one in Mexico City. 

The still life maintains a place not just in painting but in photography as well.  Today’s photographer, if alert, may find ready-made still life moments that say much about a locale and its people.  For those who like urban photography, the city offers many opportunities for images that present themselves without the need for arrangement.   Take this photograph, for example, made in Amsterdam.

Dutch still life paintings often contained insects or examples of rotting fruit to show the passage of time and the inevitability of death and decay.  Since I used an example from Amsterdam, I felt the image was interesting as a modern take on a 17th century exercise.  This image is something analogous to decaying Dutch flowers—the trash that was the result of an enjoyable moment in the present. It is the same message of the inevitable decay of life. 

I believe that the more one knows about art, the more creative a photographer might be.  My studies of art have enabled me to see patterns and understand composition better.  Perhaps the same is true for other photographers.

The following photo was made in Zagreb.  Here I cropped it to even out what was seen of the chairs, to serve as a frame.  This received a purchase award in a county competition for photography. 

Keep in mind that there is nothing wrong with photographing your own empty bottles and cups; they can also provide a foreground image for a broader shot.

The key to an image like this is tight cropping.  On occasion, you might want to rearrange a bottle, perhaps to show the label, but otherwise it is surprising how often still life photographic opportunities present themselves.  For those of you who never considered the merits of an image like this, think of it as part of a long tradition.

Photographers are often too obsessed with details, wanting to make sure that shadows or dark colors are not just blobs in the image.   Occasionally the goal is to get a subtler approach by either exposing for the dark, using bracketed shots that offer a range of exposures in quick exposures one after the other, or otherwise using post-processing software to bring it out.

Sometimes, though, the shot works better as a silhouette or with barely noticeable detail.  This is because too much information can be distracting.  If we want impact, the impact of a small outlined figure against an essentially uniform expanse provides the pop.  In this way, the image can succeed as a minimalist images in which a particular detail is set against an uncomplicated background. 

Here is an example from Barcelona, of a woman on a paddleboard.

I did several things to create a photo that had sufficient contrast to have an impact.  First, I did not do a close up of her; the isolation of the paddleboarder against the expanse of sea was the subject of the photograph.   Second, I put her off center and slightly towards the bottom, and had more sea than sky to further break it up.  Photographers are often told of the Golden Ratio or Rule of Thirds which divides the image into three rows and three columns.  Under this rule, placement of the main subject anywhere but in the center is considered better practice to break the symmetry and create a tension in the image.  Like all rules, it can be broken successfully, but in this case, I put the person more to the right, since it follows another recommendation which is to leave space for a person in motion to move into.  Sometimes symmetry can have an impact, but here I wanted her off center horizontally to create a sense of movement but more centered vertically to increase the sense of isolation—at least that is how it appeared to me.  If she were completely centered, she might seem "stuck."

Another example is from Abuja, Nigeria, of two men padding on a lake, where I also put them off center.  However, there is not the sense of isolation here, and the silhouette is not perfect.  There is color visible on one of them.  While I liked this image because of the sense of purpose and camaraderie demonstrated by the two paddlers, it doesn’t work in the same minimalist way as the Barcelona photo.  

It remains an interesting photograph to me, depicting something of life in Abuja but the one taken in the Barcelona is, in my opinion, more powerful.

If you are going to do a silhouette, consider it as part of a minimalist exercise, so the viewer focuses essentially on just two elements—the silhouetted figure and the background.

It is not always easy to resist the siren call of the newest cameras with all the bells and whistles with a price tag to match.  Of course, there are qualitative differences between lower end digital SLRs and higher end professional cameras but at a certain point, the qualitative difference in the raw image can be indiscernible. 

You can test this with your own history.  I switched from an Olympus OM1-N camera to a Nikon F70 and then the Nikon F80 until I switched to digital.  I then used a Nikon D50 and then Nikon D70, before moving to Nikon D5100 and then the Nikon D5300.  Each stop of the way I was tempted to go to the higher end models.  After much consideration, I concluded that I would never use a lot of the features of these newer models, and the models I use have all of the core things that I need. 

I believe, as do many others, that it is better to focus more on the lens than on the camera itself.  We are now seeing the pressure to move to mirrorless cameras as the next step.  To some extent, cameras are becoming like mobile telephones in which the main function is just one more function along with all the other things those pieces of equipment provide. Do you need that in order to be a better photographer?  I don’t think so.  A good photographer can take a good picture with an adequate camera and lens, but the technology itself will not turn a mediocre image into a “wow” image.

If you think about it, when the Olympus OM-1 was the mainstay of the working photographer, world class images were captured and made.  While the Nikon D70 could not do many of the things that the top-line Nikon camera can do today, at the time it was far more advanced than a far more expensive camera of 15-20 years earlier.

Here is an example.  This image of a canal boat pilot in Amsterdam was made ten years ago, in 2008, with a Nikon D70.  The D70’s highest resolution ISO was 200; this was shot at that, and at 1/400 second with F5.6.

As processed, I produced this image.

A pro-am digital SLR today would have more pixels available, more autofocus points, and a faster ISO, but one would be hard pressed to challenge the quality of the original capture or the overall result in showing this character portrait of this man.  These older cameras have had their place, have produced first rate digital negatives, and while it is good to keep up with the improved technology, that technology will not make the image for you.  Some of these older cameras, which were advanced for their time, may have more utility than some of the new cameras, and serve as excellent cameras both for training and artistic purposes.

So how do you approach one of the most photographed places and make it new, unique, or especially interesting? I confronted this in Chicago recently.  The Loop is the heart and soul of the city, an outdoor museum of architecture and grit, of industry and culture.  In the canyons between the skyscrapers, extremes of light and dark make exposure difficult.  The relative narrowness of viewpoint in streets controlled by the El impact on the ability to get a full view of the streets or the buildings.  I wanted to capture Jewelers Row on Wabash Street.  With the limitations of angle, I looked for something different.  The texture of this particular sky at this moment, with this lighting, cooperated.

I like to shoot the signs identifying a neighborhood as, in my opinion, they seem to give a validity to where you are.   I decided to turn this into a vertical image and capture the surrounding buildings, framing the sky.  The sky, with clouds, formed its own pattern, and by judicious use of the filters in Lightroom (particularly the dehazing one) I was able to achieve a vibrant sky.  The upward thrust of the buildings—itself not perhaps particularly original—nonetheless is different here because of the sky and the use of the sign and lamppost.  In other words, while we all may like the dramatic effect of capturing skyscrapers and sky like this (or tall trees in a forest), we should remain cognizant of the foreground or anchoring feature of the image.

In this one, we have the El—more a suggestion—in the lower left corner, the focal point of the lamppost and sign identifying clearly where we are, and the view of Jewelers Row not as the full street, but in a vertical viewpoint.  We have a vivid sense of being in the Chicago canyons of the Loop, and of the particular character of this street.

How do you manage to make an image unique when the subject matter is familiar to so many people?

This is a basic documentary shot, meaning that it is not meant to do more than show the street and the buildings on either side of it.  The photo gives the viewer a feel for this neighborhood of the Norwegian city but it is perhaps on the mundane side.  Someone can look at it and understand, from a factual perspective, what this street looks like.  The sky is a dark blue and adds a color interest.  Of course, a narrow cobblestone street with centuries old buildings full of character would be more interesting but that is not this street.  So if we want to capture this street, this long view does not really do much except to show us in straightforward fashion what it looks like.

A second way to capture the street and perhaps afford an edgier tone to the image is to shoot just one side of it.

I eliminated a less interesting side of the street (which had just one visible gray building and an area obscured by trees) and focused on the more colorful and varied buildings that also create a discernible pattern. The road itself—just a patch of black—fills less space than in the prior image.  The eye is drawn down the length of the buildings by the force of perspective.  There is still a sense of the neighborhood, its architecture, and the tone.

Another option is to approach this in the same manner as abstract painters who seek to reduce the representational or documentary nature of an object by capturing it abstractly.  Consider this:

I have reduced the street to an abstract pattern of parts of three of the buildings.  I no longer have a postcard style representation of the street either from the first or second image. 

The point is that when photographing you should be alert to the possibilities and effects that can be achieved by simply framing, without fancy image processing.  You can take a purely documentary image or you can seek to capture something else by abstraction.  You are also not limited to these three positions—storefront shots and shots showing just the door and some windows on the first floor are other options.

I’d be interested in comments on which shot strikes a chord, and how you seek to capture parts of a city like this when traveling.

Most photographers seem to default to the horizontal viewpoint.  Even for landscapes, where horizontal is the normal reaction to achieve a panoramic effect, vertical images can be just as effective, particularly where close-ups of trees or other tall objects are involved.  Another way to express it is landscape versus portrait.  An alternative is also the square image, neither wider nor taller, but all sides being equal.  We tend to default to horizontal (landscape) because that is how we view the world: our eyes are horizontal, not vertical.  Computer monitors and films are set in horizontal mode.  Vertical requires us as well to turn the camera and is better for capturing tall objects without extraneous space on the sides, and more detail of the tall object.

Those basics aside, and without running down the millions of hits you get if you run horizontal versus vertical photographs through a search engine, perhaps we can just do our own captures and see what we think about them.

Here are two from Vilnius, Lithuania, where I wanted to capture the locks that people place on bridges as signs of their love for each other.  I shot it twice on this bridge, one horizontal, the other vertical, with different locks in the image.

A few points.  I could have stood back more and included more of the bridge on the horizontal image, but that would have rendered the actual locks smaller.  Or if I had been closer to the bridge to get that detail, I would have lost some of the background.  I felt the setting was as important as simply focusing on the locks.  More to the point, the horizontal image allowed more locks to show, adding not only variety but showing how many were on the bridge, even in this limited space.

On the other hand, the vertical has fewer locks but, in this case, I was able to feature three locks up close.  If I had done that as a horizontal, I’d have lost the background.  Here, I was able to keep the background.  As it happens, I have no strong feeling one way or the other as to which is the better or stronger image.  If I had to choose, I would pick the vertical, perhaps because it balances a high level of detail of the locks, which was important, with sufficient background to establish setting.

Why is the background important? We like to think of the subject in terms of the simpler, the better, but here the locks stand in place of the people who put them there, and through the locks we see what the couples saw as they placed the locks.  To that extent, the background and setting are equally part of the story.

Too many times we see something interesting and just take one shot.  We are told to move around and look for other angles.  We need to remember that it is worth taking it from the vertical as well as the horizontal perspective and having the option later.  Sometimes we can accomplish that by cropping but that can lose too much of the image.  Get the full image at the time, both ways.

A wide angle lens has a short focal length that provides a wide view.  On a digital camera, it can range generally from 10 mm to 35 mm.  The standard or normal view lens of 50mm translates to the 35 mm on the digital camera.  A prime lens is a fixed focal length, such as 35 mm, and a zoom allows for variable lengths.  Photographers hold strong opinions on these things; some despite zoom lenses and others swear by them.  Some will urge the use of the wide angle lens and others will warn you of all the mistakes if you don’t properly use them.  As with my other blogs, I walk the trails alone.  I will run a search on my inquiry, such as pros and cons of the wide angle lens or the fixed/prime debate, and then trust my eye.  Ultimately, you can judge whether your final image meets your standards and those whom you feel you need to satisfy.

I like using the wide angle lens, and spent time working with the Nikkor 1-20mm f/4.5-5.6 G lens.  I was told originally that unless I was using it for landscape, I would not find it useful.  However, while it certainly has its uses in landscape, it is a vital component of the urban photographer’s kit.
In Philadelphia’s Locust Street, I found a pair of photogenic doors.  I did not want to angle them but even with at 20 mm I could not get them both in at frontal view without having a lamppost between them.  Here is that image from across the street, not cropped, but processed in Lightroom with basic adjustments and with perspective straightening.  If I wanted to use this image, I felt I would want the full lamppost to at least make that part of it rather than just a cut-off gray pole:

Crossing the street and standing with the lamppost to my back, even if I’d used my preferred lens of choice, the Sigma 18-250 mm, I could not get both doors in the photo.  Using the Nikkor 10-20 at 20 mm, I get this (again, with basic adjustments and straightening):

At 10 mm, I can get what I wanted originally—the two doors.

The lesson is that with proper control and a mind to the software processing tools, the wide angle, particularly at 10 mm, is a valuable lens for capturing details in the confines of a city and on narrow streets.  I cropped to minimize what remained of slight bulging of the frame, although it is not always the camera but instead the settling of the house that can affect the shape and lines.  Also, to the extent some may still find slight distortion, I’d also note that distortion is not always bad, nor are those converging verticals that can lend dramatic effect.  My focus and intent was to depict the contrast and complementary nature of these old doorways.  There are a lot of articles on the dos and don’ts of wide angle use.  Read them, think about them, but most importantly, consider what it is you want to accomplish.  Always at the end of the day, it is your eye that matters.