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.

At a recent art show this summer, I was talking to another photographer that had been in the business for a while, and I went into some lengthy explanations about some of my techniques. He thanked me, but quickly advised me not to give away my “trade” secrets so easily. I responded that I believed there were no real secrets in photography, and that I had learned much of my photography from others who had shared their knowledge. He disagreed stating that I deserved to keep my hard earned knowledge to myself, and let others follow the same path. Our conversation ended, and he went on his way to other booths in the show.

Yet I couldn’t stop thinking about what he had said, a sentiment I have heard so often from other photographers in general, and I found myself deep in thought about the whole issue. On a sudden impulse, I left my booth and started walking in the same direction he had taken because I wanted to share one more thought with him. I spotted him just ahead, quickly approached him, and when he recognized me, I said “You know, I just had to tell you, you were right, there are secrets in photography. Do you know what the secret is? “Humility.” He thought about it for a moment and then smiled, not expecting what I had just shared with him. We parted ways once again, and I returned to my booth, realizing I had learned something about myself and why I enjoy sharing both my photography and my “secrets”.

Catskill Sunset

What does humility have to do with photography you might ask? Landscape photography is an extremely demanding and competitive profession, fraught with both physical and mental challenges. Insecurity and self-doubt is always a constant distraction (I refuse to allow it to be more than that), and a healthy dose of blind ambition is necessary. It is getting more and more difficult as technology levels the playing field and makes the same amazing tools available to both amateurs and pros.

I also realize that what I do for a living is a tremendous privilege, a fortunate situation that I have worked very hard at achieving, and continue to work at each and every day. It is through dedication and perseverance that I am able to enjoy my passion, not through some secret or hidden knowledge. At the core of my “passion” is a reverence for nature, its boundless beauty, and its ability to make me feel both alive, present, and insignificant at the same time. Conveying that in a photograph is a humbling experience when you realize it is a) an immense challenge, and b) much more than just the sum of equipment, techniques, and guarded trade secrets.

The same scene can be interpreted a million different ways, so when someone reacts positively to my particular version, I know not to take that for granted. So I don’t conceal my locations, or camera settings, or processing “secrets”, because that would then become more important than the moment itself when the light is just perfect, and the feeling is worth remembering.

Perhaps this is why I enjoy teaching workshops as much as I do. Explaining a particular technique, pointing out my favorite views, answering questions, and seeing students lost in the moment is personally gratifying, and the easiest part of my job.

Mt Beacon Firetower

Capturing light at its magic moment is something I discuss frequently at my workshops and is one of the most important “ingredients” in landscape photography. These two images, both from the same morning, were a revelation for me in terms of how light can transform and create an atmosphere that is both rare and unique.

More images from my recent trip to the Adirondacks soon…I’m off to the New Paltz Art and Crafts Fair for the long Labor Day weekend. Enjoy yours!

This month’s question comes from a potential workshop student who asks:

Basically I have never taken a photographic workshop before - other than the freebie one you gave for Scenic Hudson - and I am not at all certain if I have creative potential or a photographic eye. Nonetheless, believing that one can teach old dogs new tricks - I self-consciously would love to try. At this point I have a Canon 30D, a few decent lenses - as well as an old, seldom used Minolta 201 - SLR. I’ve been interested in photography since high school - and I’m now 61, but never had the time or money to get much involved in it until recently. I enjoy landscape photography and certainly want to improve in my skills.

If you believe the course would be helpful or useful for me - great. And if you think it will be way over my head, please just say so.

Great question and one I’m sure all serious photographers including myself have struggled with at one time or another. As for creative potential, if you’ve read this blog long enough, and know me personally, you will realize this is something I work at continuously, and believe everyone has a unique vision, it’s just a matter of finding and developing it.

We all have our own personal and distinct view of the world and how it affects us visually and emotionally. The challenge is to try and express that through the language of photography. The language is what we all must continue to learn, and that only happens through practice, learning new skills, and expanding out visual vocabulary. If you have the desire and motivation, then yes there is much to learn to help you along your photographic goals in one of my workshops.

Hudson River

I often tell others talent is a product of dedication, perseverance, and hard work, and firmly believe this to be true. What many fail to realize is that there is a talent for dedication and hard work, and that it will accelerate you towards your photographic goals as much as your skills and equipment. Staying focused is easier said than done, and often we lose focus when results don’t meet our expectations. But this is the most critical time to remain focused, and soon mistakes become triggers to new ways of seeing, and ultimately more personal images.

A workshop is one of the best ways to remain focused and accelerate your photographic vocabulary. Thanks to everyone for their questions, and don’t forget to send yours in for next month.

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,

While I am primarily a landscape photographer, I do accept commercial assignments on a limited basis in other disciplines of photography, mostly in sports and the outdoors in general. Shooting something different is always a great way to expand your camera skills, and there is always something new and valuable to learn, from composition to post processing. It also gives me another opportunity to expand my stock portfolio.

I was recently asked to photograph the 2008 Liberty World Outrigger Canoe race, one of the largest sporting events in New York Harbor and one of the premier outrigger canoe races in the world. Hundreds of international paddlers come from all over the world to participate in this exciting race, including many from Hawaii, the capital of outrigger canoe racing. The images are used for media and promotional purposes, and the racers can also purchase prints from me for their own personal use.

It was a demanding 15 mile course which started at the Brooklyn Bridge, rounded the tip of Manhattan, went up the Hudson River to about 42nd st, came back down to the Statue of Liberty, around the back of Governors Island, and returned to the starting point at the Brooklyn Bridge Park. There was a dedicated “media” boat, which I shared with a videographer from Hawaii who was filming a documentary on the race.

I used two cameras, one for wide angle shots, and another for tighter shots of the racers and their canoes. Because I was in a moving boat, I chose to use my Canon 70-200 f/2.8 zoom lens with a 1.4 extender, and shot wide open most of the time to minimize camera shake and get the sharpest images possible. As the boat traffic increased throughout the morning, the water became rougher and made shooting that much more difficult. I really had to pick my shots carefully, and hope a wave didn’t rock the boat at the same time I pressed the shutter (which happened more often than I expected).

All in all, it was a great experience, and I was able to use the New York City Waterfalls as nice backdrops to the canoes. I will also be photographing the Mayors Cup kayak race in October, which also takes place in the same general area, so I’ll share those here as well.  Hope you enjoy the images!

Shaupeneak Ridge, Hudson Valley

This image was made by combining several exposures (5 total) into an HDR image. It was the only way I was able to capture the extreme dynamic range found between the bright sky and relatively dark foreground. I was literally running around this field trying to find an interesting composition before the amazing sky disappeared.

I will be talking more about HDR imaging in an upcoming article, and will be including it in a future workshop covering advanced techniques in Lightroom and Photoshop.