This is not the first time I have shared a photograph of this sign. In fact, in the past I shared a color version of essentially the same photograph, one in a series that I quickly “snapped” while on a long urban walk. The sign is almost iconic in this part of the world.
You could regard this photograph in any of several ways. On one level, it is a sort of record shot that captures a specific instance of a certain rapidly-fading sort of commercial sign, a one-of-a-kind bit of commercial graphics that seems to be fading from this increasingly urbanized area. I think it is also an example of seeing beyond the literal nature of the thing. When I look at it, what I find most interesting is the relationships between the painted letters and the shadow versions created by the sun shining on the old neon lamps.
G Dan Mitchell is a California photographer and visual opportunist. His book, “California’s Fall Color: A Photographer’s Guide to Autumn in the Sierra” is available from Heyday Books, Amazon, and directly from G Dan Mitchell.
I’m going to try to keep this post somewhat brief, and touch on two aspects effects of this reality. There is, no doubt, much more to say about both ideas, but not in a “morning musings” post! So I’ll keep it to one paragraph per idea this time.
I believe that photographs are not so much about the things in front of the camera as they are about how the photographer sees the world. Whatever the subject might be, there is only one of it. Yet there are as many ways of seeing that one subject as there are people — perhaps even more. At first we all are certain that the subject of a photograph is that thing at which we point the camera, but the more photographs we see — our own and those of other photographers — the more we understand that the important thing is how and what the photographer sees, and how that way of seeing is shared photographically. In your own photography, this can and should eventually lead you beyond trying to emulate or compete with other photographers, and toward finding your own true and honest way of seeing.
Related to the idea that photographs embody your way of seeing is a secondary issue that affects the difference between how we see our work and how others see it. I sometimes am surprised that a photograph I believe in provokes little response from viewers, while one that I might think is fine-but-not-great will evoke a strong response. One explanation may be that no one else can ever see a photograph in the same way that the photographer sees it. I don’t write this to suggest that viewers are coming up short when they look at photographs. The point is actually more about a mystery that the photographer often has to deal with. We often “know” our photographs in ways that are inaccessible to others. We recall the experience of making the photograph, what we had in mind when we made it, how the subject might connect to us in a personal way. We understand what we wanted the photograph to be and to do, and we are aware of things that we might have chosen to do differently in retrospect But viewers know none of this and, for the most part, can never fully know it. One of the outcomes of this reality is that we, as photographers, are frequently not the best judges of our own work. For everyone in the world but the photographer, the photographs have to say what they say on a visual basis — whatever meaning and associations they may have must come from that visual object.
Morning Musings are somewhat irregular posts in which I write about whatever is on my mind at the moment. Connections to photography may be tenuous at times!
G Dan Mitchell is a California photographer and visual opportunist whose subjects include the Pacific coast, redwood forests, central California oak/grasslands, the Sierra Nevada, California deserts, urban landscapes, night photography, and more. Blog | About | Flickr | Twitter | Facebook | Google+ | 500px.com | LinkedIn | Email
The image I posted earlier today both here at the blog and on Google+ got me thinking about the various ways that a photograph can “come to life.” This particular image followed a path that several other images that I consider to be among my best followed – namely, it languished in my raw file archive for nearly a year before I rediscovered it recently while going back through the old files. I recognized this pattern some time ago, and I now make it a habit to revisit all of my (thousands and thousands of) raw files about a year after I shoot them.
Why didn’t I “see” this image when I first reviewed raw files right after the shoot? I’m not entirely certain, but several ideas come to mind. Sometimes at the time of the shoot I have a strongly fixed notion of how I want to portray the subject , and as I shoot I’m already categorizing exposures by how well they correspond to this preconception. So when I initially go through the raws I may be mostly looking for what fits my expectations as opposed to looking objectively at what works on its own merits. Coming back a year later allows me to better see the image for what it is, without having my judgment so affected by prior expectations.
Related to this is the sheer number of images and how one deals with them in the post-processing workflow. I may begin with what I think are the most promising couple of images from a shoot and then take them all the way to a print-ready (or actually printed) stage. Once I’ve done that with the first selects from a given subject, I’m more likely to move on to other subjects – and potentially leave other good images in the dust.
There is a lot more to say about this, I think, but I’ll save the longer explication for another blog post in the future. Does anyone else make a practice of doing a full review of raw files at some future date?
