Framing and the art of pointing.

Looking at Burrard Inlet from Rocky Point Park

This is my first blog after being away for the summer.  I was out on a walk on Tuesday with a friend and we hiked around the east end of Burrard Inlet from Rocky Point Park to the old mill site.  There was a good collection of water birds, although the high tide meant that little of the intertidal zone was exposed.  Shorebirds were not to be seen.  I did get some good images of a great blue heron extracting a fish from the water after a lightning lunge though.

Framing and pointing are two techniques I favour when shooting landscapes.  The above shot utilizes a gap in the vegetation to frame the far shoreline.  It is amazing to see how framing will take a relatively mundane image and transform it into something more appealing.  I prefer to use mild, wispy edges instead of hard ones, although I have had success with both.  Framing works because it draws the eye into the scene.

Drawing the eye is an important part of what makes a photograph attractive.  Another way to do this is through pointing.  All kinds of things can be used to point, but in general, they have to be long rather than wide or elliptical in nature.  The path of the partly fallen tree moves from the outside inwards towards the central part of the image.  If you pay attention to how you look at the image you will notice that your eye tends to follow up its length.  Not all the time, of course, but it does lend itself towards that idea of drawing your eye.

I have hundreds of shots from my time away and will be sharing many of these photos with you throughout the year.  I am looking forward to returning to my blogging.  I just hope that you enjoy them. 

Thanks for reading.  www.ericspix.com

A bell that tolls no more.

An old church and bell near Astoria, Oregon.

You see them in little towns and alone on the prairies.  They are a testament to distant times when the community would unite in faith, in hope, and in times of despair.  As a legacy, all that remains is a stain upon the landscape.  The parishioners have long since vanished, being survived by a new generation which has forgotten their value.

The country church is what I am speaking of.  In many ways, they share the heritage of grain elevators and one room school houses.  A part of our history, vital then to the life of the population; now it stands idly by, waiting for rust and rot to finish the desecration beset upon it.  What has happened that this, the once lifeblood of society, has crumbled into its decayed state?

The answer is multifaceted, as time has changed the land and the people with it.  Populations become less rural and move to urban centers.  Farming has changed from many members driving horses to a few large landowners driving massive farm vehicles.  The protestant immigrants of the day have been usurped by multiculturalism; many faiths with diverse needs have rendered these edifices moot.  Then too there is the gradual erosion of faith.  With each successive generation, there is a decrease in the portion that believes in the God that created them.  All together these events have decreed their sentence and past judgment.

Yet, the history remains.  It is because the founding fathers had faith, they built the churches.  These buildings helped the communities they were a part of, bringing people together who needed their faith as much as they needed each other.  These buildings still stand proud, in spite of their impending doom, because of the contribution they have made.  Yes, ours would have been a totally different country if their silhouettes had not been so prominent.  Although their bells are silent now, the gongs of the past resonate with present and future generations for the foundations that were laid. 

Expressing character.

An old truck, barn, and silo near Chehalis, Washington.

Sometimes you just have to pull over.  That was the sentiment on my mind as I was driving back from the airport yesterday when I saw the old truck, barn, and silo just off the road we were on.  I had driven into Portland to pick up my travel companion and we were returning to our campsite.  The scene was idyllic, photographically speaking, because of the character of what I was seeing.  Old and weathered, overflowing in details, the components were breath-taking symbols of historic rural Americana. 

I pulled over to the side of the road and retrieved my camera.  There were no fences and the buildings were near where I had parked, so I meandered about capturing what I saw from different angles.  This was the shot I liked the best.  The lighting was nice; soft cloud cover which allowed some sun through but not so much that details were lost in the shadows.  The sun’s angle allowed me to shoot the truck and barn without them being backlit.  The proximity of the pieces was also good.  Too close together would lose the independence of each piece, and too far apart would have rendered their relationship moot.

The way I framed this scene plays a big part in why I like this image.  I use a number of compositional techniques in my shots, ranging from rule of thirds, framing, lines and other things which draw your eye, depth of field, and so on.  The rule of thirds and the use of lines are clearly utilized here.  The silo with its ladder and rust-stained stripes fill the upper right quadrant, which would otherwise be empty.  The truck’s side window lines up with the silo; the door resides solidly on two of the third’s lines.  The barn window opposes the truck’s and its wooden facia draws the eye upwards.  Meanwhile, the roofline brings the viewer’s gaze back to the silo.

I find that the rule of thirds works really well when your eye cycles within an image; physical lines and boundaries often facilitate this.  It is the character of each item in the shot though that causes you to pause as you scrutinize details.  This is where an image really proves itself.  Nicely positioned items have a lot of value, but when those items themselves have real character and are genuinely interesting, it takes the image up to the next level.

A good photograph has many devices working for it.  Most onlookers are not even aware of them, yet they are drawn into it because of some unspoken attraction.  You may not be able to say why you like something, but it just appeals to you on some level.  Maybe it just has character.

Shooting in context.

The fountain and neighbouring library in Chehalis, Washington.

While visiting Chehalis, Washington the other day, we came across a decorative fountain.  As fountains go, it was pleasant enough, but it lacked anything especially appealing.  Photographing it from a variety of viewpoints did not add much to its allure, but it became something very different when shot with its neighbouring library in the background.  Suddenly, it became much more provocative; in fact, it makes the shot.

That is the thing about subjects.  They may be able to stand alone but often are improved by including their surroundings.  The important thing in this thought is to understand that not just any surroundings will do.  It is well worth your time to look around and consider just how you want to capture something.  Context is everything.

In literature, context is often associated with the meaning of a word.  A single word, such as dove, will mean different things depending upon its use.  For example, it could be a bird, such as, “The white dove flew away.”  It could also be an action, as in, “The plane dove towards the ground.”  The word is defined by other words around it.  In a similar way, the subject in a photograph is defined through the relationship it has with its surroundings.

Now, this analogy only goes so far, as all do.  The premise remains the same though; find a subject you like and photograph it relative to its surroundings in such a way as to maximize its value.  This is true with people, things, events, and so on.  It is not just the subject which tells the story or gives value to the image; it is the way it is used in context to its surroundings.  

Like I said, context is everything.

Hope Slide

The debris field from Hope Slide - you can see the slip face in the background.

The word "slide" has many different connotations; depending on who you are the term will elicit many different meanings.  A child would think of playground equipment, a musician of a trombone.  A mechanic may visualize the greased movement of a piston while a geologist cogitates on mass movement.  It is this last one which I have in my thoughts today.

A landslide is a terrifying event to behold.  Mass movement, also called mass wasting, of any kind, is natures way of leveling the playing field, literally.  What is up comes down.  As I live in BC we hear about these all the time in the form of avalanches.  Made of snow, trees, and some rock, they are a terrible threat to any who might be in their path.  Mud flows are another form, as are slumps and a few other geological oddities.  It is the landslide though that really holds destructive power.

Landslides occur here frequently, most of them relatively small.  Have a look at this website which mentions twelve local recent ones that have affected humans.  Large ones are relatively rare though.  There are two significant ones which have occurred in Western Canada in the last 125 years.  The largest of these is Hope Slide, which took place in 1965, and Frank Slide, which predates it by 62 years.  Both were devastating.  Washington state had a landslide occur on Mount St. Helens in 1980 releasing a pyroclastic explosion estimated to be equivalent to 15,000 Hiroshima bombs.  Explore the volcanic eruption in this video.

A landslide can be caused by a large number of factors.  Human activities including building mines, roads, and dams all increase the chance of inducing one.  Stimuli in nature include massive rainfall, earthquakes, and weathering.  Hope slide may have been caused by natural faults and expansion related to freezing in the exposed sections.  Two minor earthquakes occurred in the area as well, although seismologists aren't sure if they precipitated the mass movement or if they were forebearers of things to come. 

Fifty million tons of rock slipped from the mountainside into the valley below.  A lake was completely inundated; you can see on the opposite side of the valley the place where the lake waters tsunamied into the forest.  Four people were killed, and the rebuilt highway sits some 55 meters above the previous one.  The rock, once it starts moving, builds up a pressure wave of air underneath it which allows the material to travel far further and faster than what may be expected.  If you are in the path of a landslide of epic proportions, there is no escaping it.

Thanks for reading.   www.ericspix.com

Golden Ears- Foreground detail with background vistas.

The rule of thirds on a perfect evening.

Most of my landscape photos are done using a wide-angle lens of some form.  Relative to a full frame digital camera, a 35 mm focal length is very mild while a 15 mm is often far too wide.  Remember, this is relative to a full frame camera, so an APS crop-sensor camera would use 23 mm and 10 mm respectively.  I tend to use values between 20 to 30 mm relative, but much of that really depends on what exactly is being photographed.

The above shot is a good example.  I was using an APS-C sensor camera with a 53 mm focal length, which works out to about 80 mm relative.  It is a far cry from the values previously cited, but I wanted to capture the details in the post while not diminishing the beauty of the background.  That is why using a wide angle for landscapes doesn't always work well.  If I used a 40 mm lens (relative) and got the fence post the same size as above, the mountains in the background would only be half as big.  The shot would be completely different.  At 28 mm, the mountains would be about a third of the size.

When shooting landscapes, I often have my 20-35 mm lens on my full frame camera, but keep my 28-300 around just in case I need to zoom in a bit.  The ultra wide-angle lens works most of the time, but not always.  A standard kit lens (18-55 mm or 28-80 relative) will do quite a lot for you.  If you are looking for a good ultra wide-angle lens, there are many third-party manufacturers out there which produce zooms like 10-20 mm, 11-18 mm, or even an 8-16 mm for reasonable prices.  Go to this website if you want to see what is available.

A big reason I use the wide and ultrawide angle focal lengths is because of the great depth of field they give you.  Lower focal lengths give you more depth of field at any given aperture.  I usually also choose a higher f/number such as f/11 or f/16 and am careful about my point of focus to get as much in focus as possible.  The above shot was done at f/13 and my point of focus would have been somewhere behind the fence post.  The beautiful thing about digital cameras is the fact you can check your shot afterward and tinker with the various settings as desire or necessity dictate.

Go somewhere local with attractive scenery and play with foreground and background relationships.  Try different focal lengths, keep apertures relative small and check your shots afterward for quality and focus.  Remember the rule of thirds; don't let the foreground overwhelm the background or be overwhelmed by the background.  Zooming in and out and changing your position will go a long way towards allowing you to find the right balance.  Most importantly though, have fun.

Thanks for reading.   www.ericspix.com

Maple Ridge Dikes

A family of cyclists enjoying time together on Maple Ridge Dikes.

My daughter once told me she had to write a 1000 word essay.  I asked her why not submit a picture instead.  We know where this idea comes from, the adage is familiar to us all, but the sentiment it carries is true.  Pictures carry visual information far better than words and can do so in considerably less time.

A photograph should convey information, and a good photograph should do it convincingly or with strong aesthetic qualities.  National Geographic is famous for its photos because they often achieve one or both simultaneously.  Few of my images would fall into that category.  I do aspire to capture such photos though, and I occasionally succeed.

I like the above photo because it tells a story.  I do not know the people involved; in fact, I don't even recall ever seeing them.  The number of bikes (2 large and three smaller) and their proximity suggest a family.  The fact they have been abandoned connotates a care-free disposition and that they are nearby exploring what the area has to offer.  It is not too difficult to come to that conclusion.

I also like how the elements of the photo relate to one another.  The rule of thirds, the use of lines drawing the eye, the familiar background with Thornhill's silhouette establishing the location, and even the bikes' shadows pointing towards the family's likely location all add to its appeal.  The thing I like most about it though is that it represents one of the great features offered by our area and reminds me of the many occasions I have partaken of its revitalizing essence.  I could look at this photo forty years from now and be brought back home in my mind immediately.  Perhaps it is not a great shot, but I love it for those reasons.