Simplicity

I’ve just finished reading a rather Machiavellian book “Extreme Ownership” by Jocko Willink and Leif Babin. Part of it’s appeal is simplicity of the concepts of military leadership that are presented there. In fact, the authors make a compelling case for simplicity being a necessary condition for effectiveness of a mission plan. Not-surprisingly, the book also plays on the universal applicability of the principles of military strategy. From my experience, I can attest that at least some of these principles apply in science and art.

As it happens, I’ve been working on a research proposal that is supposed to outline my research program for the next five years. The issue is that the adjudicating panel spans a range of expertise, but none of the panelists is exactly in my area. Hence the need to simplify the description of my work. This may seem like a limitation for the proposal, but it’s actually a great thing. I find it very helpful to have main objectives to be formulated with enough simplicity that I can keep them on top of my mind on a daily basis as I work with graduate students, who do the actual research work. This makes making everyday micro decisions easy: does this move us closer to the objective? When the description of the goal is simple, this loaded question reduces to a yes-or-no one.

The same principle applies to photography. My camera is pretty advanced, and there is a nearly infinite number of combinations or lenses and settings that I could use. However, I find that it is most effective to simplify things. I only have a few combinations of settings: for action (maximum aperture, fast shutter speed, auto ISO, high framing rate, continuous focus), for portraits (same as above, but slower shutter speed, sometimes, manual low ISO), for landscapes (narrow aperture, low ISO, single-shot focus, single frame drive). There are othe creative scenarios beside these, but they are exceptions. So the question of choosing the settings, which can be overwhelming to a beginner photographer, can actually be simplified to “what are you trying to achieve?” And the beauty is that there are only few answers: freeze (or blur) motion, separate the subject from the background (or maximize the depth of field). This classification of shooting scenarios is so simple that it frees me to mostly think about composition, which is always important.

Star Wars

My six-year-old daughter is the first person I know, who read a Star Wars book (a collection of bedtime stories) before watching any of the movies. She is really into the interconnected storylines of the various characters. The other day, we had a conversation that seemed straight out of James Breackwell’s hilarious Twitter feed. She put aside the book, sat at the table to have breakfast and said, looking quite thoughtful:

– Dad, you look like like Han Solo.

I thought that was not bad. Even considering the very biased source of this opinion, comparison to Harrison Ford based on looks is nothing to be upset about.

– Mom, you look like princess Leia.

Now both my wife and I were quite pleased.
She though some more.

– Wait. This means I have to be Kylo Ren… Sorry, dad.

Perhaps being Han Solo is a mixed blessing after all.

Photo opportunities

The concierge at my hotel in Paris (who, incidentally, could fluently speak several languages) gave me some excellent suggestions regarding moving around in Paris and interesting sights to photograph. In retrospect, most of the things he recommended turned out to be quite the opppsite (e.g. suggested metro stations were closed and supposedly photogenic sights turning out to be not so much so). He did, however, have the correct sense that timing and luck were important factors in taking a good photo. For example, he mentioned that a photo of the Eiffel Tour being struck by a lightning made the front pages of local newspapers not long ago. The Tower is the most photographed monument in the world, so for a photo of it to make front-page news requires something to be going on (in addition to the tower simply being there).

The concierge also suggested to look for a moonrise over the Notre-Dame cathedral, and I was excited to try it the same evening, because the moon was still nearly full, and I was hoping to catch it between the towers of the cathedral. Unfortunately, the location of the moonrise had shifted already, and it was no longer visible from the cathedral square. But the moon still made a spectacular appearance over the Seine river, as fellow photographers gathered on the bridges connecting ile de la Cite to the river banks to capture it.

Here is my attempt. I knew from experience that the moon needed to be exposed as a grey rock in a midday sun. This presents a dilemma if one wants to simultaneously (and correctly) expose the nigh-time scenery. Of course, taking two separate exposures and combining them in post-processing is a possibility, but if one wants to avoid compositing, it is better to underexpose the shadows and correctly expose the relatively bright moon.

Shooting on the go

I’ve often been concerned that doing travel photography is detracting from the actual experience of taking in new sites, smells, the vibe of new places. For example, lugging the camera gear around is quite a nuisance in itself.

On the other hand, I find that taking photos, and lately videos, while wondering around actually adds focus to the present moment experience. It actually helps me formulate my expression of the new place. In this sense, photo- and videography is similar to blogging and journaling. You don’t really know what your thought about any particular subject are until you speak them out loud or put them down on paper. And writing things down is less intrusive on others because it’s easier to ignore a blog post than to tune out someone’s talking. Stating your thoughts publicly, though, is important, because it forces you to crystallize your opinion and to take ownership of it. This is equivalent to publishing photos and videos, and this is why blogging is not equivalent to journaling, which is inherently private.

Cinderella’s dreams

My six-year-old daughter is going surfing. With a considerable help from her mother, she is putting on a neoprene boot. It’s not an easy task, so she notes:

– You know, it’s just like “Cinderella”…

Then, she becomes lost in thought. My wife asks:

– What are you dreaming about?

– A prince. On a beautiful horse.

– …

I am starting to get a bit worried, so I ask:

– Why are you dreaming of a prince on a horse?

– I just love horses…

I feel better.

Screwing up

My wife and I are putting together a shelf for art supplies. It’s a final stage of the assembly – only a few screws are left. Our six-year-old daughter walks in:

— Wow! You guys have done it! The shelf is almost finished. You just need to screwed it up!

It’s good when someone has confidence in you…

Arguing with a cheetah

My daughter’s Grade 1 class has been practicing debate techniques. Yesterday morning, after reading a book about cheetahs (her favourite animals), my daughter said that if she had a debate with a cheetah about the black “tear marks” that help cheetahs avoid sun glare, it would go something like this (quoting her almost verbatim):

“The Cheetah would say:

— My tear marks are better than your sunglasses, because I don’t have to put them on and cannot lose them.i

Then I would say:

— Yes, Cheetah, however, I can take off my sunglasses anytime I want, but you cannot take off your tear marks!

And the Cheetah would have nothing to say to that! <victorious laughter>”

I am suddenly worried about any potential arguments we might have in the future….

Creativity vs. productivity

Julia Cameron wrote in “The Artist’s Way” that when people say that they want to be creative they actually want to be productive. And productivity is usually defined as something related to benefiting oneself or one’s career. In this framework, there is little room for art as a hobby. It is either “professional” Art with the capital A or no art at all that is worth pursuing. Cameron then argues that in fact the opposite is true – that creativity stems from the hobbyist’s attempts that are free of the pressure to be perfect or significant.

Incidentally, I’ve been coming across the truism that perfect is the enemy of the good in various contexts in the last few weeks – from violin playing to writing research papers. It also applies to photography, and more specifically, videography. I realize that what often prevents me from making vlog-like videos is the notion that there has to be some kind of profound story in each of them. This thought is a bit paralyzing, so I end up with a lot of unprocessed video clips. As an exercise to overcome this mental block, I’ve been trying to make short videos simply for the sake of making them, regardless how mundane the subject happens to be on any given day. After all, I believe it was Julia Cameron again, who said that in order to have a chance to make good art some day, you have be first prepared to make a lot of bad art. Hopefully, quantity will transform itself into quality at some point, but now I am just going the reps.

Here is today’s clip that I shot and assembled entirely on my phone. This is sort of a challenge to myself of how quickly I can whip out some video content. It gives me a low bound not only in quality, but also in terms of time required to make a vlog post.

Be indifferent to where you live

I am rediscovering Miyamoto Musash’s writings for myself. “Go Rin No Sho” (“The Book of Five Rings”) and “Dokkodo” (“The Way of Walking Alone”) are some incredible texts. It is amazing how universally applicable the specific teachings are, way beyond kendo. Actually, when I first came across these books many years ago, I did not even practice kendo, and it was the universal nature of Musashi’s advice that caught my attention. Now, coming back to these books (though “Dokkodo” is probably too short of text to be called a book) from a different point in life, I find them even more impressive.

But the Path that Musashi pained so clearly is tough to follow. Any one of the 21 precepts of “Dokkodo” is deceptively simple in its description, but challenging if you look at it closely. Take “Be indifferent to where you live,” for example. I kind of like Victoria. Just yesterday, on our daily commutes around town we saw eight deer. Not in a group, but eight separate deer sightings! Actually, deer are viewed a bit like pests here, but if I think about it, it’s a pity to take this proximity to wildlife for granted. Also, the fact that I can simply put on my running shoes during a lunch break and in a few minutes be in a forest (well, it’s a park actually) so old and dark that it’s cold even in the middle of a sunny day is fantastic. I really missed my usual running path when I was in Milan last year.

My kendo sensei says that there is a good argument in support of the hypothesis that Musashi is a synthetic or perhaps even a completely fictional character. I hope this is not the case. Regardless, the teachings that are attributed to Musashi are remarkably cool in their directness and generality, so he is an inspiration, whether he physically existed or not.

Shooting video

I find blogging to be a useful exercise for organizing my thoughts and formulating ideas for photoshoots, research projects, future travel, etc. Basically, it serve a purpose of note-taking. There is a concept, neatly outlined in Charles Duhigg’s book “Smarter Faster Better” that some kind of mechanism of capturing and periodically reviewing one’s observations and thoughts is an essential tool for learning. In other words, don’t just read a book – write down what you’ve just learned. Also, don’t just look at scenery – photograph (or better yet, draw) what you are seeing.

Somehow, shooting video makes for a drastically different experience for me than, say, taking still photos or writing down text notes. For example, videography seems to distract me from the experience of the present moment much more than still photography. Whatever happens on camera seems more like a performance than a real event. Intellectually, I realize that this is a false perception, and shooting video can also be viewed simply as a means of taking notes. In fact, the amount of information that is recorded in video is significantly larger than what’s captured in photos or written notes. I think the difference is that still photography and note-taking forms you to do some processing of the information on the fly and record only the most significant parts. In video, this is deferred to the post-processing stage, which incidentally makes the reviewing of the raw footage quite daunting.

Here is a couple of practical ways that come to mind for overcoming the apparent difficulty with producing video:
a) Shoot selectively, with at least a general meaning of each particular clip in mind.
b) Treat video as a note-taking tool, not as an artistic performance. Deliberately exercise a delay between capturing raw footage and making a movie.