The Print of the Month for October is “Autumn’s Play“, made last fall in Harriman State Park. The title came to me as I thought about how I found this image and what inspired me to try and capture the feel of the scene that particular autumn day.

I had been walking around a large lake for some time, surrounded by vibrant colors in every direction. As a photographer, it is so easy to get distracted by the color, and lose sight of other important elements so important to a successful photograph such as compositional interest, visual depth, texture, and mood. While I had already taken many photographs, I didn’t feel like I had captured anything really special.

Always looking in all directions, I often stop and turn around to see the same area from the opposite perspective. I turned one last time, and my eye was immediately drawn to a section of trees that had a simple dominant color backlit by soft overcast light. In addition, the branches created a strong graphic that I really enjoyed, and just beyond in the background were complimentary colors in a subtle hint of nature’s yearly performance.

It felt like autumn in the most perfect way, and I knew I had a chance to capture that feel in a print that I immediately saw in my mind’s eye. I know that when that happens, I have found something special, and the “craft” part of photography takes over. This is where I use the various tools available, whether a great lens or camera, my software of choice, and a great printer, to render the best possible interpretation of the image. But without the initial spark and inspiration, the rest is just an exercise in technique, all too common in landscape photography, including my own.

The Print of the Month for August is “Millbrook Mtn Sunrise”, from one of my favorite places, the Mohonk Preserve in New York.

This is an older image I made over two years ago, but for some reason I had never paid it much attention until now. On a recent visit to the same trail, the light just was not very favorable, but I enjoyed the hike and wild blueberries just the same. The scenery there has always inspired me, so when I got back home and reviewed the days images, I decided to look back through my archives and remembered a previous visit when the light had been very nice indeed. Reviewing the images later that evening, I selected a few to develop that I felt had potential, but this was not one of them. I didn’t have the trusted gut reaction that I have to images I feel are successful, and filed it away for future reference. This is a completely personal and subjective process, but in my opinion so important for an artist.

Looking at it two years later however, combined with having hiked there several times over the last few months, gave me a new perspective and better understanding of what I want to convey about this place. And that is the ultimate goal for me, to bring across to the viewer a sense of what it feels like to be there. This is not just standing at a particular spot waiting for beautiful light. Often I arrive before dawn when it is dark, and have to find my way with the help of a head lamp. With shadows all around, and just the faint glow of blue light on the eastern horizon, my anticipation grows for the eventual appearance of the sun and its warm, energizing rays of light.

Once I’ve climbed up several hundred feet to get up on the edge of the ridge, the famous “Shawangunk Ridge”, I’m sweating and breathing hard, but the light is now turning towards deep red and I’ve forgotten the time and effort it took to get there, starting with the dreaded alarm clock at 3:30AM. Now the real work begins with my camera, searching for a composition that will translate both the scene before me and how I feel about it together in a flat 2-dimensional print. I get so focused that time and place disappear, and I just concentrate on responding to what is happening at that moment, regardless of what I think about it.

I often refer to this process afterwards as a recipe for frustration as I rarely succeed at what I see in my mind. But it is the process and experience I so enjoy that keeps me trying over and over again. As Eckhart Tolle so well says in his book A New Earth, “…not what you do, but how you do what you do determines whether you are fulfilling your destiny.” The outcome becomes secondary, and I focus on the moment, reacting visually to the environment. Many of my better images have come from this process, and I didn’t realize I had captured something worthwhile until much later.

The trail up onto the “Ridge”

Whether this is the case with “Millbrook Mtn Sunrise” I’m not sure, but for me it conveys what it felt like to be there that morning two years ago. Each viewer responds to images differently however, and so it may not have the same connotation for someone else. That’s not so important for me, what is important is that there is some reaction, similar to the reaction I had when I press the shutter,

I have updated the homepage on the website with the May 2008 Print of the Month, titled “Sunrise on Sugar Loaf”. Located less than 2 miles from where I live, Sugar Loaf Mountain sits at the northern most entrance to the Hudson Highlands, and has a very distinctive profile.

Though I thought there might be lots of clouds on this particular morning, I quickly realized they were not going to make an appearance, so I decided to work with a lone pine tree that has an interesting westward tilt. As the morning light made its way across the landscape, I was tempted to abandon the tree and move to some other positions that already looked really interesting. However, I decided to stay where I was and really work with my wide angle lens to find a composition that was as simple as possible, yet still contained all of the important elements I wanted, including the Hudson, and Storm King mountain in the distance. The benefit of being intimately familiar with this location helped me immensely, and allowed me to really focus on what I had been visualizing for several months prior to this day. I will definitely be returning here again as often as possible!

Each month, the Print of the Month is available at 15% off regular prices. Purchase here.

The April Print of the Month is “Barn Light”, made in the Keene Valley section of the Adirondacks. While many of the images I strive to create involve getting out into remote locations and “off the beaten path”, I came across this scene from the roadside, and barely had enough time to make a few exposures before the light was gone.

During a long weekend trip in the Adirondacks last Spring, I had passed this old and abandoned barn many times, always wondering what a successful photograph of it would look like. This of course is a highly personal and subjective approach that requires patience and a willingness to fail often. After many attempts which did not translate into what was in my mind, I had resigned to try again on a future trip to the area. This of course is not uncommon, and more often the norm in landscape photography.

On my last evening however, luck came into play, and I knew the image I had in my mind was possible. I knew where I wanted to setup my tripod, having spent the days prior finding the composition I wanted, and I just hoped to capture the feeling I had standing in this field.

A soft warm breeze brushed the tops of the flowers in the foreground, bringing with it the smell of spring, and the sounds of rustling that bring so many memories of summer days past. Finally, a scene that inspired beyond the visual, and transfered me just for a moment beyond the physical place I stood at that monent. This for me is the essence of photography, a story, a feeling, an interpretation of reality. This motivates me to continue trying after repeated failures and frustrations. The experience learned from success leaps beyond all of the failures, and brings a special meaning to all of the “luck” and hard work involved.

“The artist is a receptacle for emotions that come from all over the place: from the sky, from the earth, from a scrap of paper, from a passing shape…” Pablo Picasso

Each month, the Print of the Month is available at 15% off regular prices. Purchase here.

The March 2008 Print of the Month is “Cape Neddick Seascape”, featuring the very scenic lighthouse commonly know as “Nubble Lighthouse“, located in the southern corner of the coast of Maine.

I enjoy photographing lighthouses, not so much because of their architecture, but because so many are located in dramatic coastal settings, where the landscape is very much a part of the experience. Of course, lighthouse photographs are a dime a dozen, so the challenge for me is finding a different way of seeing what is already very familiar.

I knew immediately that the jagged rocks that defined the shore would play a vital part of my composition, since to me they created the drama and visual excitement I’m so often attracted to. It was a challenge just moving around them, and I made sure every step I took was carefully considered.

Using a wide angle lens that helps to emphasize foreground objects, I worked to create a composition that had the weight and feel of the environment I was in. This so called weight was the impression these rocks made on me as they were relentlessly battered by the powerful ocean, creating deep thunderous sounds and big splashes. How could I convey this in a photograph?

Rather than make the lighthouse the main focus, I decided to allow the rocks to dominate the image, and let the lighthouse play the counterpoint, just as a melody often has a supporting harmony that adds richness and depth to a song. And the pieces of ice add a slight juxtaposition, for without them this might be mistaken for summer or fall.

Much of landscape photography is about creating form out of chaos, and as Ernst Haas once said about composition, ”Simple: do not release the shutter until everything in the viewfinder feels just right.“

This is what I try to do each and every time I press the shutter myself, because it’s the feel I hope to express; the rest, whether theory, technique, or equipment, just gets in the way.

Each month, the Print of the Month is available at 15% off regular prices. Purchase here.

The February print of the month is “Winter at Ship Harbor”, which I photographed on my recent winter photo trip to Mount Desert Island in Maine.

I have photographed many different natural areas in and around New England, and many of my favorites are right here in my own “backyard” - The Hudson Valley. Yet there is something about the ocean, and especially the Maine coast that I am attracted to, and I never tire of not only photographing it, but spending time absorbing its visual rhythms, sounds, and beauty. I think this is a vital part of expressive landscape photography and one I strive to capture somehow with a medium that is so simple in relation.

As so often is the case, which is both frustrating and exciting, I arrived at the Ship Harbor Trail late in the day without a clue as to what I wanted to capture, or what exactly to look for. Many times I have a definite idea of an image, but in this instance I was “improvising”, a very familiar mindset from my jazz days at the Berklee College of Music. In these situations, I try to make sure I have as many “ingredients” as possible available that can contribute to a good landscape photograph, namely, dramatic light, interesting subject/location, and an open mind to new possibilities.

After some time wandering, I walked onto this rocky shore, and immediately noticed that with low tide, there was this great line of rocks leading into the distance, lending great perspective and depth. The freshly fallen snow stopped where the water level had been, so there was good contrast of tones extending into the scene. I also loved the texture of the frozen ice that covered the foreground rocks, changing their color. Improvising, I tried several compositions, and eventually found one that really felt right, and managed to get a few good exposures before the soft, warm light disappeared and became dull and flat. I spent another 2 hours in the area hoping for good light to reappear, but it never did.

I developed this image in Lightroom, working to bring out the strongest elements of the scene that made their impression on me as I remembered. Then I exported it to Photoshop for selective sharpening (using my favorite plugin, Pixel Genius Sharpener), and minor dodging and burning to open up some of the darker areas. What many think is a simple click of the shutter, is actually a long and elaborate process that begins in the mind and heart, and ends in the final print to achieve what I hope is something worthwhile.