This is probably going to be a sort of “thinking out loud” post, so forgive me if I’m sharing some half-formulated thoughts. I may even have to take back some of what I write afterwards! It is complicated. (Slightly revised on 8/14/11)
This afternoon I was reading an article about a photographer who produces some excellent and compelling work that I like quite a bit. The photographer’s identity is not important in the context of what I’ll write, since the person’s story only served to remind me of many similar stories I have read elsewhere regarding quite a few other photographers. Aside from the commentary on this person’s wonderful photographs, there were two other threads I noticed in the article – and I recognized both of them from a lot of other writing by and about photographers that I’ve seen, specifically about landscape/nature photographers.
First, I noticed that there was almost as much discussion about the circumstances in which the photographer works as there was about the photography itself – and the circumstances seemed quite dramatic. (It seems curious to me that photographers are often more interested in writing about and readers more interested in these circumstances than in the actual photographs, but that is something for another post…) There were stories of working in freezing cold with the risk of frostbite, of traveling to wild and seemingly dangerous places, and of encountering scary and threatening circumstances, working alone, coupled with an impression that the photographer was unable to resist the call to “risk it all” for “the shot.” It all sounds quite dramatic and even dangerous! That, however, is going to be a subject for a future post.
The second thing that caught my attention was a claim that the photographer had imagined a specific shot and then had gone to a certain place and spent a week waiting for that shot. The photograph that was the result of these efforts is, indeed, a very wonderful photograph and one that I find quite compelling. But from my own experience in photographing similar subjects in similar places and circumstances, the claim of seeing the image before arriving and then waiting for exactly the imagined image to appear didn’t quite add up, especially given the ephemeral nature of the effects and conditions that make the image in question so powerful.
It is this second issue that I’m interested in exploring a bit right now – the question of whether we simply capture the image we saw in our mind’s eye before arriving on the scene, or perhaps do something a lot more complex and, I think, much more intuitive and instantaneous. Do we arrive on the scene and wait for the thing we imagined to happen, or do we arrive on the scene and find a way to photograph what we find there? Or, what is the balance between this opposite poles?
For me, photographing in the natural world is more like hunting – an opportunistic activity rather than one that is precisely planned and then executed. It is most certainly not a random act – more on that in a moment – but the natural world is far too complex and unpredictable for me to really know precisely what I’ll shoot or the conditions in which I’ll find my subject ahead of time in all but very rare cases. The closest I come to this concept of executing a completely pre-visualized image in the field is when I perhaps return to a familiar subject many times and work to “perfect” a newer version of image that I have tried previously. But these are truly a very, very small percentage of the photographs I make.
Far more typically, I put myself in a place where I believe I’ll find some very interesting convergence of light and subject and conditions – often based on past experience, judgments about the conditions I encounter, or perhaps educated guess-work – and then I try to open my eyes to the potentials in that scene and find photographs in it.
To use a musical analogy, for me it is far more like playing jazz than it is like playing the notes on the page of a sheet of music. The jazz musician is improvising – but also drawing on a vast fund of experience and practice and knowledge and all the rest of it, quickly and intuitively. He or she may have some ideas about where things will go, but cannot know the details for certain until the music actually happens. In much the same way that one jazz musician responds and changes course because of an unexpected thing that another member of the group does, I respond to unexpected conditions and opportunities on the spot – and a big part of the reward of the actually shooting comes from discovering and experiencing these unexpected elements and from responding to them as they happen.
While much of what happens in a jazz performance cannot be predicted ahead of time, it is anything but random. (For my non-jazz musician friends – I know full well that some of the most important things that happen in other types of musical performances also involve intangible elements that cannot be fully quantified.) In similar fashion, while I cannot predict the light, atmospheric conditions, and other elements that I’ll encounter when making photographs, my response to them is anything but random. While I generally don’t have a full formed image in mind, I don’t go into the field without a sense of what is possible. I like to think that my mind is actually full of potential images or bits of images that I may compare to what I encounter in the field. Sometimes I recognize an effect of light, or a shadow, or a pattern of forms that resonates with something that I have imagined or have seen before – but it is not the same thing I imagined, nor is it predictable.
As an example, during the last year I went to Yosemite Valley on one occasion largely because I had some mental images that involved trees, clouds, mist, rocks, and cliffs. I know the Valley pretty well at this point – I’ve visited for decades – but I did not have a specific location or composition in mind. In the same way the musician might think, “I’ll do blues in B-flat,” I knew I wanted to do clouds, trees, cliffs, and rocks. But it wasn’t until I got there and began looking and photographing that I found the specific images that I came back with.
Some recent work in Death Valley might serve as another example. What did I have in mind before I went? For the most part it was pretty nebulous stuff, though not unimportant stuff. I had some thoughts about jagged mountains in various sorts of light that would completely fill the frame. I knew that I wanted to avoid certain subjects! I thought about revisiting some subjects that included water. (In the end, that didn’t happen.) I had a vague idea about working up in the higher mountains of the Panamint Range, but the specifics eluded me. The closest I came to having a specific “visualization” of an actual scene was with a subject that involved clouds and a certain scene at night – a scene that I have not previously photographed and one that I didn’t shoot on this trip after all! One black and white photograph I made included a scene that I have shot before and was an attempt to distill and improve my take on that subject. But in many, many other cases I ended up shooting what I found where I found it while I was out and about looking around. In fact, as I have written elsewhere, among my favorites from this trip were a couple of subjects that I would probably have not thought to shoot if I hadn’t been delayed in getting started one morning by car troubles!
Does someone actually have a fully or nearly fully formed image of things as ephemeral as clouds and mist floating among trees and rocks in mind before they see it? I can’t rule it out, but have to I wonder.
(Note: I’m regarding this post as a “public draft,” and there is a good chance that I’ll return and revise it after further thought. I get to do that because it is my blog! :-)
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I’ll certainly agree with that!
One thing just came to mind…..I supect the genre of photography one pursues has much to do with ‘pre-visualization’ of images. Landscape photographers, as a general rule of thumb, probably tend to do less than say fashion and/or commercial advertising photographers. And that only because the latter 2 actually ‘create’ the entire scene….whereas ‘the scene’ for landscape shooters tends to be ‘found’.
Before I got to your last paragraph about hobby comparisons among beer drinking photographers and hunters, I was all set to type that much of what I do is actually hunting!
Dan
Glad you tweeted this. I hadn’t seen it previously.
Judging from previous comments, I work like many here. Whenever I go out with camera in hand, I intend (more like ‘hope’!) to make images. And though many times I head to a location with some general ideas in mind…..assuming I’ve been to the location previously, I can’t say that I totally previsualize any particular image. Generally, it’s a case of….if I go to location X at Y time of day, I know there’s a composition available that could generate a good image.
But I never limit myself to going for that one shot only. If I spy something else while there, I’ll shoot it as well. And though I could’t quantify it, I’d be willing to bet the ‘other’ shots are as numerous as the ‘planned’ ones.
Oddly enough, a neighbor and I were comparing hobbies over a beer earlier this year. He’s an avid hunter, and after chatting a while, we came to the realization our hobbies had much more in common than we would have guessed when the chat started. A couple comments here only solidify that notion.
Interesting read!
I think you can do some degree of previsualization but of course not 100%. The more familiar you become with a spot the better you get at predicting the conditions. Maybe there are some areas that are so consistant they can be foreseen but I haven’t found them. I actually enjoy the unpredictability and often find the reality is better than I could have imagined anyway.
I’m with you on the “some degree of previsualization” idea. And like you, I enjoy the unpredictability and the “hunt” for elusive and ephemeral and sometimes surprising things.
For me, there are several notions about what it might mean to previsualize.
One that is clearly important is to be able to look at the scene, either directly or “through” the camera, and visualize the the photograph that might eventually result. This is critical in many cases, since the photograph has to rely for its success on its purely visual qualities – the rest of the experience that we have in the moment of clicking the shutter will not be there. It takes some experience to be able to look past the whole of the immediate experience and “see” the image on paper that might result.
A second kind of previsualization that I believe many photographers do but few talk about comes from carrying in the mind a collection of “bits and pieces” of imagery that we have seen or imagined that we are searching for. By this I don’t mean full and complete compositions – for me these are more likely to be qualities of light, certain subjects, shapes and forms, effects of atmosphere. You might almost think of them as potential image components. When I see real scenes I often “recognize” elements from my mental archive.
Finally, there is the type of previsualization that I think is actually extremely rare but which, ironically, I think most people imagine we are talking about when the subject comes up. This is the (mostly) mythical complete pre-imagining of the completed photographic image in most or all of its details. It can happen – or almost happen – but it is extremely rare, and it is most certainly not required in order to produce wonderful and compelling photographs.
OK, Tom… quiet it is!
Dan
The hunting analogy is apt. That is essentially what I am doing when I go out to shoot birds. I might be trying for a specific bird, or just walking a trail to see what I can get. Either way, you never know what you are going to see or capture. The approach is the same. Shhhh! Be vewwwry, vewwwry, quwwiet!.
Dan – blues is meant to be played in E, A or G. Flats are for things that are blown into. Well, unless we follow Stevie Ray, Jimi, et al, and tune down a half step .. then we can jam in Eb all day long. :)
Yeah, you string players are fond of sharp keys, aren’t you? I started out as a brass player, though… ;-)
Dan
PS .. As a guitar player, I gotta tell ya .. nobody plays blues in Bb. :)
Two great topics, Dan! Look forward to your future thoughts on these ideas.
While some photographers likely exaggerate the danger of their travels, the conditions for landscape photography are often pretty uncomfortable. While my last photo trip certainly was not dangerous, I was in conditions that the vast majority of people would consider very uncomfortable (getting stuck in thigh deep mud, intense wind and cold on multiple occasions, insanely long hours, etc). Even though photos should stand on their own, without the dramatic stories, I do still enjoy reading about the story behind an image and appreciate photographers who share these aspects of photography.
Your discussion about visualization is an interesting one. I agree with Greg’s comments – I am not patient enough and do not have the luxury of time to wait at a single location for days. However, I often have a concept in my mind when I travel to a particular location. For my last trip to Badwater, I wanted to capture the salt flats under water with colorful clouds in the sky at sunrise or sunset. While the specifics turned out differently than I may have expected, I still walked away with a photo that captured most of my “vision” for a photograph. About 25 percent of my photos start with a concept and the other 75 percent are serendipitous. If I did this full time, I think the percentage would shift more to images that start with a concept because I would have more time to explore and then return to a location to capture a scene under conditions that are more similar to those that exist in my mind. Being able to be successful under both circumstances makes a photographer more versatile and, I believe, is key to being able to create compelling landscape images on a consistent basis.
Sarah, your description of your “Badwater experience” is closer to my typical experience. I often have a concept or concepts somewhere in mind as I work, and I’ll often even have some relatively specific objectives in mind. (I think I mentioned the interest in “big rugged mountain faces filled with rugged canyons, photographed without the inclusion of sky” as an idea that I took with me to Death Valley recently.) But, once on the scene it feels more like I’m looking for and open to a range of subjects and conditions that may or may not be precisely equivalent to a vision I had beforehand.
In fact, the range of approaches that I take is quite broad. At this moment, there is one very specific photograph that I have in mind – I can close my eyes and see it – that is a further refinement of a scene I have shot a couple times in recent years. But this particular scene is one in which the variables are few and controllable – date on the calendar, level of water, time of day. The closest to this that I came on the recent Death Valley trip was a photograph of the Panamints and the Sierra from Aguereberry Point – but I’ll be honest and admit that I was happily surprised by the clouds that I did not (and could not!) anticipate and that I was not necessarily pre-visualizing a black and white image when I arrived there.
At the other end of the spectrum, I frequently make decisions on the spot about what specific subjects I’ll shoot, often working partially on the basis of whim and partially on the basis of hunches about what I think might happen if things go just right. Some of my sand dune photographs from the recent Death Valley visit resulted from a question: “I wonder what it might look like to photograph that subject from such and such a location at dusk or dawn?” I did visit the location during the day to scope it out but it was only by being there during the time of interesting light that I discovered what photographs I might make of this subject.
And, though some seem hesitant to talk about it, quite a few effective photographs are the result of being incredibly lucky. The famous Ansel Adams comment often comes to mind: “Sometimes I do get to places just when God’s ready to have somebody click the shutter.” I could tell you stories! One of my photographs that I like a great deal only exists due to a whole series of circumstances that I could not possibly have predicted or controlled. On the other hand, the existence of this photograph, for whatever it is worth, is not completely the result of chance. I like to think that while something that I couldn’t control had to happen in order for the photograph to exist, someone had to be there, that someone had to be able to see the juxtaposition of conditions, and someone had to know how to make a photograph out of this in the moment during which it occurred. That jazz metaphor comes to mind again. :-)
Dan
Hey Dan
Glad to see you write on this subject.
I think there is something to visualization .. photographers should try to “see” the image before they shoot it .. to refer to your jazz analogy, “if you can’t hear it, you can’t play it”, right? The issue, as I understand it, is how far in advance to we hear it? A jazz musician doesn’t hear their solo a week before they play it, and I’d suggest nature photographers rarely see their images a week in advance either.
But musicians do hear what they’re about to play, and I think visualization works in this way, as well. Once I’m set up at a scene, and the light is unfolding, I see the composition as an image before I shoot it; sometimes better than others.
It is interesting though, how some photographers like to say they envisioned this image weeks before shooting it, and the image is largely serendipitous light. I can’t say that’s ever happened to me.
I’m looking forward to a follow up article about how wild and dangerous this location was. I remember reading one landscape photographer make similar comments about his photo of Peyto Lake, in Banff National Park, Canada. This was not long after I’d taken my parents, both in their late sixties, to the exact location of said photo.
Some folks love to talk this kinda marketing hype .. and it sure does sell well.
Cheers
Carl
I view it much like you do, Dan. As a hunting expedition. If I go out looking for deer (i.e. Yosemite Valley), I’m probably going to come back with a deer, but the exact size, shape, etc, is not a given. I’ve never been the type to wait a week for a shot, largely because between family and work, i don’t have that kind of time, but also because I don’t have the patience. I want to be wandering, exploring, photographing.
On my recent Utah trip, I knew of a few locations I wanted to visit, but I went into a large part of it blind. And I’m glad I did…doing that peeled any preconceptions that had been blinding me, and allowed me to see with a fresh pair of eyes. An invaluable practice that I don’t do enough of.
Cheers,
Greg
When I go out G Dan and EXPECT to bring back what my mental mind has given me…I never see it! But it goes exactly the way you explained it! Does my precepts perceive me or do I concord the image to appear and believe my photos!
You have an understanding in what I need to know as for my present and future in photography because you have experience that. Your article holds a key to acceptance, but need to just make my photos a whole lot deeper in depth.
Thank You,
Intersting topic. I find that previcualizing a specific subject and manner of photographing said subject can be very valuable. That exercise often is what gets me out of a warm bed and out into the chilly morning air where I find that what I have visualized has not materialized, allowing me then to abandone that idea and go on to concentrate on photographing whatever does materialize that day. But that was kinda your point, now that I think about it.