Action photography: zooming in

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One of the most interesting aspects of sports photography is the ability to show the action up close. I think this is the reason the photos taken with long telephoto lenses generally produce most appealing shots. I wrote earlier about my favourite lenses for shooting indoor basketball. Recently, I have been preferring longer lenses, because they provide a point of view that a spectator cannot replicate from the bleachers. This gives the photos instant “interestingness.”

For tomorrow’s kendo tournament, I am going to shoot mostly with the Canon EF 70-200mm f/2.8L IS II USM lens lens and will try to zoom in as close as possible on the players, even if that would mean cropping out parts of their body. Because of my interest in kendo techniques, I of then try to capture the elements of footwork, body position, etc., which add nothing to the artistic aspects of the photos. Tomorrow, my plan is to shoot less images than I usually do, but when shooting, focussing on the art (photography) rather than the martial art.

More photos on Flickr: http://ow.ly/xvxoDComplete set: http://ow.ly/xvxro

Inflection point

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When practicing a skill, at some point, an effect that is opposite to diminishing returns starts to show. The new skill begins to benefit other aspects of activity, even those that are seemingly unrelated to the original practice.

In photography, an example of this would be building a portfolio that attracts new work, which in turn enhances the portfolio even further. In other areas, examples of reaching the inflection point include learning the basics of a foreign language, which enables one to read books, connect with people, etc., or reaching a certain level of physical fitness, which enables a whole new range of activities: sports, work, travel, etc.. Malcolm Gladwell described a similar phenomenon of viral spread of ideas in his book “The Tipping Point.”

There is an interesting analogy between reaching the critical level of mastery of a skill and physical phenomena in fluid mechanics, which I teach to students. Particularly, separation of a boundary layer under the influence of an adverse pressure gradient happens after an inflection point (in a mathematical sense) in the local velocity profile occurs.

Just like in nature, though, predicting when the inflection occurs (in the case of skill development, how much practice is required before exponential changes start to happen) is most difficult. When we are just starting, the only comfort we can take is that the critical transition will happen for sure – this seems to be the law of nature.

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Dance performance: searching for a new style

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Taking advance of the fact that there is neither a set deliverable (minimum set of images) nor a firm deadline for the recently completed photo shoot of a dance performance, I have been experimenting with new post-processing techniques. Narrowing down the initial set of more than 2000 raw images to just a handful, I was able to spend some time playing with some brush stroke effects in Photoshop. I find that allowing sufficient time to experiment with (i.e. try and discard) new techniques is the key to being able to break from my usual workflow and ultimately, to find a new look of the final images.

The inspiration for doing these experiments came partially from listening to an interview with Chase Jarvis, who talked about the importance of striving to be different, not just better, at photography as an art. This doesn’t mean to be different just for the sake of it or pursuing attention for the sake of attention. Instead, Jarvis talked about exploring the limits of combining the elements of other artists’ work (he referred to the work of Andy Warhol as an example).

Dance performance is a perfect subject for this kind of exercise, because photographing it is literally taking pictures of art, which is, literally, creating art out of art.

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Travel itineraries

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Planning is an important stage of travel. Even though spontaneity during the trip itself is crucial for being able to unplug from the daily home routine, thoughtful planning (even if it is done in broad strokes) can make a difference between an enjoyable and a stressful experience on the road. Currently, getting into the specifics of the future summer trip to Europe begins to give it a sense of reality through anticipation.

My wife and I often combine photography-focussed trips with family vacations. Having a small child substantially changed the dynamics, so the style of the photos have adapted as well. We used to like what Rick Steves refers to  as “whirlwind tours” of a country, where we would travel by car to a new location every day or two. Now, with our daughter, our preference shifted to a one or two home bases, from which we would do day trips to explore the sites.

The latter type of itinerary also better suites my current style of travel photography. I like to focus more on people than on the sites themselves, and having more time in a same location allows me to study the local dynamics a bit deeper, to look at the place through the eyes of a local person. Even just a few days in a city or a town, allows me to makes the vicinity of the home base “my own.” It is the sense of personal preferences (things that I like and don’t like about the place) and forming micro-routines (e.g. finding the best local bakery and a market) that enable this sense of familiarity with the new place to develop.

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To do or not to do

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“No! Try not. Do, or do not. There is no try.”
– George Lucas (Yoda, “Star Wars, Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back“)

I wrote earlier about the importance of exploring new subjects and techniques for one’s development as a photographer and an overall well-rounded person. It is equally important to practice the skill of not pursuing new projects, as James Altucher explains in his book “The Power of No.” Because time, as well as energy, emotional, financial and other resources are inherently limited, there is a very real cost of pursuing new opportunities. it needs to be weighed against the potential benefits, and of course, this is the most difficult part.

Taking up a new project implies a commitment to complete it one way or another, and this aspect alone diminishes freedom to choose to do something else in the future.

Having said this, there is also an inherent risk in choosing not to do new things. In fact, a finite probability of failing at something new becomes a certainty the moment we decide not to try it. Besides, it is often difficult to fail at something completely, which can make make even a failed attempt quite valuable as many authors, who advocate thinking big point out.

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Two-stage workflow

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I like Rick Steves’ travel guides for high-level vacation planning – an overview of must-see sites in a country that can be realistically visited in a given amount of time. He often mentions, that any country is like a good novel – best enjoyed when visited for the second time. I think this two-stage approach works well for many aspects of photography – planning, shooting, processing, etc.

During the initial stage of a portrait photo shoot, for example, assuming that there would be another chance to re-visit certain aspects, explore additional angles, poses, lighting arrangements, etc. removes the stress of having to accomplish everything perfectly at the first try. This allows me to spend more time on details of the individual shots and on obtaining feedback from other people, who are involved in the shoot (photographers, models, assistants).

The second stage of the shoot, which I really takes place after a break, is where the most unexpected and interested photos are taken. Both the models and the photographers relax, knowing that the must-have images have already been captured. The resulting openness and ease in the interaction between them gives the the portraits from the follow-up session a subtle but important sense of realism and authenticity.

Neil Strauss, who interviewed many celebrities for the Rolling Stone, and is known for his book “The Game” about pickup artists, mentioned that he liked conducting the interviews in two stages, because people tend open up during the second take. I think that a two-stage interaction is not a technique to manipulate people, but simply a way to work with the fact that developing any meaningful relationship or collaboration is a process that takes time. More generally, it applies to learning, which involved developing a connection with the subject.

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Finishing projects

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Completing projects, whether it means delivering the photos to the clients or simply clearing the mental RAM by declaring the project finished, is very important for moving on to new projects. I find that it is the latter case, where there is no deliverable per se, but only some vague plans for a certain set of images, that are difficult to mentally resolve and set aside.

Currently, I am contemplating a painting (not a digital one, but actual oils on canvas) in the style of The Group of Seven, but a set of unprocessed images from a recent dance show keeps me from taking up the brush.

I only briefly looked through the dance images, and believe that some of them are quite interesting. I am really looking forward to trying some new post-processing techniques on them, so the painting would have to wait for now.

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Value of art

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Sometimes, it seems that the value of art is purely in its entertainment aspect. I believe that this is misleading, as art has a tremendous potential to educate us about universal principles that govern various fields, particularly about human nature, which plays a role in everything we do.

These days, we have to carefully manage consumption of information, which is conveniently and constantly available to us in various forms. Since our inbound bandwidth is limited, it may seem productive to limit the consumed information to that with immediately practical value, e.g. technical and non-fiction literature, documentary movies, reportage and scientific photos, etc. However, doing so would lead to missing the potential to expand our knowledge base beyond what is necessary to function on the daily basis within our current social and professional roles. In other words, focussing only on what is immediately and obviously useful does not provide an opportunity of significant, i.e. non-incremental, learning.

Recently, I heard Brian Koppelman, who co-authored screen plays of “Rounders” and “Solitary Man,” among other hit movies, mention in an interview that the value of reading fiction, as opposite to non-fiction, is that people evolved to learn by association and metaphor. Consuming ready-to-use information is efficient for computers, but not necessarily for humans. I believe that there is some fundamental truth in this comment. Besides their entertainment value, artistic images teach us about communication. More generally, infusing information with emotional content, which is what art does, effectively transforms this information into knowledge, which is what learning is.

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Vulnerability vs. helpfulness

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In teaching, relating the teacher’s personal experience with the material, including initial failures or struggles in learning it, is an important tool for establishing a working connection with the students. This is relevant to teaching in a general sense, not necessarily limited to the scope of academe. For example, in the context of photography, I find that showing some vulnerability by making it clear that I am in the process of learning the craft, helps avoid appearing as a know-it-all. Of course, this applies to interactions with other photographers, and not with clients or models, with whom projecting confidence in one’s skills is of paramount importance.

On the other hand, to instil confidence in the students and to be genuinely helpful, the teacher must make it clear (either explicitly or implicitly) early in the interaction that he/she know the answer to the problem at hand or is well underway towards finding the solution in the case of an open-ended, complex issues. In any case, discussing past personal struggles would not appear helpful, if it comes out as whining, instead of deliberately chosen example of learning from one’s experience.

Some examples of good balance between vulnerability and helpfulness are writings of James Altucher, such as “The Power of No,” which is largely based on his personal stories.

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Tourists in Japan

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Caucasian people stand of the crowd in Japan. This is not necessarily a bad thing, though. My wife and I have many interesting interactions with Japanese people, while we were in our tourist mode in Kyoto during my sabbatical five years ago.

Kyoto has many famous tourist attractions, and local schoolchildren, knowing that they can count on meeting foreigners there, often approached us with their their school assignments to interview foreign tourists in English. This happened to us so consistently that it quickly became a sort of entertainment. More often than not, the children did not really care about what we answered to their questions, which some of them obviously memorized phonetically, and just recited on cue. Sometimes, they would not wait for the previous question to be finished before reading their own. Still, they seemed genuinely happy and full of the sense of accomplishment by having completed their part of the “interview a foreigner” script.

Often, the children would also ask us to take a picture of them with the famous landmark in the background (and sometimes, posing together with one of us). Far from being a nuisance, these regular encounters with kids, with all their initial awkwardness, pride of having pushed the social barrier (taking to a gaijin) and delight at being understood, became a highlight of our trip to Kyoto.

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