Reader “Paul” asks about gear for backcountry photography and how it may vary from trip to trip:
Dan, I’m curious. On your trips, what percentage of your pack is reserved for anything photographic in terms of weight? And what percentage is camping? Or does that change with your experience and knowing ahead of time what your photographic expectations are?
Great questions, Paul. The answer gets a bit complicated, but let me try to get to the heart of what I think is a question about how much weight/stuff to carry for various sorts of backcountry trips. (A longer article — My Backcountry Photography Equipment — goes into even more detail.)
A solitary sunrise angler stands on shoreline rocks at an alpine Sierra Nevada lake reflecting a nearby peak
As you imply in your question, the answer varies — sometimes a lot — depending on a bunch of factors: how fit/young you are, the terrain you’ll cover, your willingness to bear weight for photography, whether your focus is more on miles covered per day or the photography itself, what you’ll do with the photographs after the trip, and more.
This is the first of what will be a series of articles looking at steps you can take to improve your chances of producing compelling photographs.
A recent stay in Yosemite Valley during my Yosemite Renaissance artist-in-residency reminded me again that while many aspects of photography are out of our control, there are things we can do to increase the odds of success.
On this visit I had three late April spring days to photograph in the park, which mostly means “in Yosemite Valley” at this time of year when the high country is still snowed in. By non-photography standards, the Valley was beautiful — if a bit crowded. The sun was out, the sky was blue, temperatures were comfortable, rivers were full of early snowmelt, the waterfalls were flowing, there were hints of green in the seasonal vegetation, and too many tourists were already showing up!
I did the usual things: I got up before dawn to find the early light. I stuck around until the last light faded. I returned to subjects that I knew from past experiences to be promising. I considered where the light would be at different times of day. I went looking for new subjects in likely places. I wandered. I kept my equipment with me at all times. I made photographs, and some of them are even pretty good, but at times it was hard to “see” something special in these conditions.
What’s not to like, right? From a photographer’s point of view these are not ideal conditions for photography. As pleasant as nice weather is for hiking and camping and picnicking, it can be hard to find exceptional photographs in such everyday light. I and many of my fellow Sierra photographers prefer interesting and unusual conditions — precipitation, broken light, mist and clouds, some haze.
On the final morning I was up and heading into the Valley well before sunrise. The light was unspectacular, with thick overcast cutting off the morning light. But then I caught sight a bit more light in the east, and soon I saw some breaks in the clouds. Within fifteen minutes the conditions opened up and I was treated to an exceptional spectacle of light and clouds and landscape that lasted for several hours, during which I photographed continuously. I made more interesting photographs during these few hours than during the rest of the visit.
The morning sun breaks through clearing clouds above Merced Canyon
To state the obvious, “exceptional” and “unusual” conditions are not the norm. The blue-sky “blah” light is. If you show up on ten randomly selected days, nine of them are going to be, literally, unexceptional, and if you are looking for something unusual and beyond-the-norm you aren’t likely to find it.
Imagining that a photograph that is “straight out of camera” is better than one that has been “manipulated” in post is equivalent to imagining that the words coming straight out of one’s mouth are better than those resulting from careful and thoughtful editing.
While there is an art to extemporaneous expression, there is at least as much art in carefully crafted work. Continuing to refine and perfect the content and its expression is not remotely unethical. The objective is to produce a pure, clear, concise, more powerful and direct expression of the artist’s truth.
This is true of essentially every mode of human expression: painting, sculpture, movie-making, writing, music, and on and on. Even the seemingly extemporaneous expressions (jazz, etc) are the result of long preparation and practice and planning and are ultimately not simply things that happen in the moment.
It is nonsensical to imagine that photography should be the one art that eschews careful refinement and thought and the distillation and perfection of expression that can make it truer and more powerful.
Earlier this month some friends and I got together in San Francisco, as we do every month, to share prints and talk photography. One friend shared prints of some beautiful night photographs he had made of a San Francisco subject. As we looked for little things that could make excellent prints even better we got to talking about highlights and how to control them. There are quite a few ways to do this, and I drew a little picture on a napkin to illustrate one technique I sometimes use to get a bit more detail out of areas that appear to be nearly pure white. The drawing looked a lot like the following.
It doesn’t look like much here, but trust me when I say that it made sense at the time. My friend picked up the napkin and took it with him as a reminder… and then a few days later contacted me to say he had lost the “napkin notes” from our conversation. He asked if I would mind describing the technique again. I said I’d do it — and three weeks later I finally got around to writing it up in this article!
Photographers using digital cameras have to watch out for over-exposing highlights. While we can recover a lot of detail from dark shadows, especially with current digital cameras, there is much less headroom at the bright end of the spectrum. When the exposure is too bright it is easy to end up with lost details in high luminosity areas. Go a little too far and you end up with that bane of digital photography, blown highlights, where the bright areas are simply pure white, leaving little or no hope of recovering the lost details. Continue reading Controlling Highlights (A Napkin Drawing)→
