Travel – Page 9 – Peter Oshkai photography

December 25, 2016

The purpose of travel blogging

17630792520_e4a328ad39_k

I have been thinking about the purpose of blogging. I like the idea that daily writing, or any creative process for that matter, is an integral part of forming the thoughts and opinions. In other words, you don’t actually know what you really think about a particular topic until you capture your thoughts in writing. A similar concept applies to capturing visual impressions in photos, paintings, etc.

Incidentally, sometimes we can formulate opinions and understanding by “talking them out” instead. I heard that Hemingway used to do this with his books. Here lies a bit of danger: unless you are as good as Hemingway, talking about your creative ideas might actually prevent you from writing about them (or painting them or doing the photo shoot). It can happen because talking does serve the purpose of fleshing out the ideas, but it is much easier than creating something persistent and tangible, like a pice of writing or an object of visual art. I believe this is why Seth Godin’s advice to writes is to keep their mouths shut about their book ideas until they actually have the books published and thus ready to be discussed.

Also, blogging is different from journalling, because the latter is private (and has a unique usefulness precisely because of that), while the former offers a way to practice expressing the ideas publicly.

Then, there might be an inherent usefulness of blogs to the audience, beyond mere entertainment. For example, yesterday, I was thrilled to discover that one of the first web publications I have read when I was a graduate student (which, given my age relative to the age of the Internet, makes it one of the first web publications, period), Philip Greenspun’s “Travels with Samantha” is still online and, as far as I remember, is in it’s original format. This is a travel blog/photo blog that was written before either of these terms existed. In retrospect, reading it, as well as photo.net, which was Greenspun’s personal website at the time (and the format and the content of which has changed significantly over the years), was a significant experience for me..

The mere fact that I still remember “Travels of Samantha” after all these years means that it must have had some effect on me. The rudimentary early ideas of mobile computing, my interest in hardware and gadgets, the interest in photography and my approach to it – they were shaped by Greenspun’s travel notes and photos. All these connections were completely hidden from me at the time.

Perhaps this blog might also turn out to be useful for someone in some mysterious way.

17633388529_43f3638093_k

December 22, 2016

Ramen

dsc01798_12-15-2016

In Japan, rituals are important. For example, the proper way of eating food, the order in which it should be eaten, etc. can be very intricate. But the neat thing is that these rules often originate from practical considerations.

With ramen, for example, it’s good to take a few sips of the broth first, before eating the noodles. There are at least two reasons for this:

First, the broth is what makes a ramen bowl distinct. It usually takes hours to make and there are various kinds of it. My favourite, at Kuma Noodles in Victoria, BC, is the miso flavour. Besides the broth, what makes ramen unique to a particular region and to a particular chef is the level of saltiness, the type of noodles and the toppings.

Second, the noodles are still cooking while you are tasting the broth. By the way, it is considered polite to slurp the noodles, and there is a practical reason for this too: slurping actually cools the noodles, which are very hot. Also, because ramen is best eaten while it is hot, it is polite not to talk while eating it and to eat it quickly.

Having said all this about table manners, I was told once by a Japanese friend that the best way to show respect to the chef is to relax, enjoy the food and not be concerned about the rules. …Of course, it might have been just a polite way of making us, the gaijin, not over-think reigi too much. As with many Japanese things, I will never know…

December 18, 2016December 18, 2016

Exhibit setup – behind the scenes

Panoramic view of Siena. Italy.

When my wife and I came back from a 3-week-long trip from Italy in 2009, we brought back about 15,000 photos, which now seems like not a big deal, but at that time it was a huge amount and a logistical challenge in terms of storage, processing, etc.

Now, as I was re-visiting them 7 years later, to prepare an exhibit at a local coffee shop, the challenge was to select just a few images from that set and to decide how to display them them next to each other: what sizes to print, for example. So I chose my favourite photo from the entire trip – the Florentine sunset, and printed it as the larges gallery wrap I knew we would be able to display – a 24 x 36 in canvas. We brought in to the cafe, held it against the wall, and at that point in became apparent what other images would work, at what size, how to position them relative to the main print.

The rest was, as you can see in the video, a matter of sticking the hooks to the wall, after double- or triple-checking the measurements, and voilà – we have a personal exhibit!

November 19, 2016

Coming back vs never leaving

Ha'penny Bridge. Dublin, Ireland. — Ha’penny Bridge. Dublin, Ireland.

“Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.”

― Terry Pratchett, “A Hat Full of Sky”

Settling down, becoming attached to a place where you leave is definitely efficient. When you know your town, for example you free up significant decision-making bandwidth by not having to decide on the bets route for getting from point A to point B, where to buy the best bread, and many other elements of the everyday logistics. In other words, you can put yourself on an autopilot and delegate processing of many daily situations to already-developed habits.

It can also be argued that the feeling of being settled, content with our environment is healthy from the psychological standpoint. However, there are drawbacks to becoming too comfortable. Relying exclusively on pre-existing habits day in and day out diminishes our present state awareness. If our environment never changes, there is little incentive to continually sharpen our skill of creating mental models. Changing our physical environment is an effective way to force ourselves to be more aware, more open-minded, more flexible and agile in forming our view of the world. When we travel, we train ourselves to become less dependent on having the life unfold exactly on our terms.

The concept of going away and coming back to the same place is much broader than just travelling in the literal sense. In photography, for example, it is useful to periodically shake things up by shooting different subjects, using different gear or post-processing techniques. If after trying the new workflow, style, business model, etc., you decide that it is not for you and you find yourself exactly at the starting point, this is an illusion. The point only appears the same. By coming back to it after taking a detour, you gain experience, skills and a broader view of the field of your work. And this makes you a different person, compared to those, who never left the comfort of their niche.

October 24, 2016

The big picture

At my daughter’s school, they told a story about how when we like something, there are usually some aspects of that “thing” that, while not pleasant by themselves, can be tolerated or even enjoyed when taken as part of the entire experience. For example, we may love our puppy, and because of that we learn to like waking up early to take him for a walk, which is a part of the experience of having a puppy.

I recently came across a similar concept in Charles Duhigg’s “Smarter Faster Better” in the context of psychology of motivation. During basic training, when faced with particularly gruelling exercises or harsh conditions, the US Marines are taught to ask each other questions containing the word “why?” This is done to focus the attention on the underlying motivation for doing the big job and to add meaning to the seemingly meaningless, tedious task at hand.

This techniques is effective in many settings, but it is particularly useful in creative endeavours. In photography, for example, the most fun part of the project might be to shoot beautiful subjects or to receive the compliments on our work. Getting to these fun stages, however, requires significant background work in terms of planning, production and post-processing. Doing many of these tedious tasks can easily snuff out the initial motivation for the project, unless we remind ourselves in the process, that it is all part of the big picture and a necessary component of getting to the really enjoyable part.

I experienced a perfect case of this during my trip to Japan a few years ago, where I had an unplanned opportunity to photograph ukai in a small historic town of Inuyama, close to Nagoya. Ukai is a fascinating traditional way of fishing that uses trained cormorants, who chase the fish underwater, catch it and then release it to their human handlers. I really wanted to see the process, take pictures, and show them to people, but in order to do this, I had to wait for several hours for the ukai tour to start. The waiting itself, in the humid heat of the Japanese summer, with heavy photo gear on my back, in the town where all tourist attractions were located within a couple of blocks (and most of which I had visited by that time) could have been quite miserable. However, I knew that it was a part of the entire experience, and in retrospect, I enjoyed it almost as much as watching the fishing itself and capturing one of my most popular photographs to date.

Another example, where the tedious part is integral to the entire experience, is travel. Dealing with pre-trip planning and arranging the logistics can be stressful. On the positive side, this preliminary stage not only makes the destination more enjoyable when we get there, but it also becomes a significant part of the travel experience itself by priming us (through anticipation) to what we are going to see, eat, and photograph. In order to appreciate this stage, we need to remind ourselves why are going on the trip as we are booking tickets, packing the bags and standing in line at the airport. Not all parts of travelling are equally fun, but all can be enjoyed if we remain conscious of the big picture.

Artist Kyoko Takatsu at work in her studio in Inuyama, Japan.

October 22, 2016October 22, 2016

Analytical observation: why we like what we like

19170155843_887ab75f24_k

Last year in Milan, I saw two exhibits related to Leonardo da Vinci’s work. One displayed his original notebooks, and the other, Leonardo3, showed models of his engineering designs. What impressed me the most is how much Leonardo was able to accomplish, both as an artist and as a scientist, by simply observing nature. When I think about it a little deeper, though, I realize that he was not “simply” observing the phenomena that interested him – he was was simultaneously analyzing them.

Cultivating the skill of analytical observation of everything that surrounds us is tremendously useful, even just as an exercise in concentration, which, in turn, is a basis for any deep work. One effective way of doing it is to start with things that genuinely interest you and to try to answer the question “Why am I interested in it?” For example, if it is a movie, a book or a piece of art, instead of engaging with it as a form of escapism, it would be more productive (and, arguably, more enjoyable) to think about what makes the object so interesting while we are watching/reading/observing it.

In fact, I think there are three questions that set up a framework for analysis on any piece of creative work, from a piece of art to a scientific paper. Cal Newport identified them as part of his process of reviewing technical papers.

What is the main point of the work (what makes it good/interesting)?
What makes it different from other works (books/photographs/research projects)?
What techniques were used to achieve the result?

Perhaps, applying this framework to our everyday activities, would put us at risk of making everything we do too mechanical, robbing us of the joy of doing thing purely for fun, without any agenda. On the other hand, this can be a way to a more mindful way of doing things we like and in the process learning about these things and about ourselves.

19783771043_a88f6915c5_k

July 4, 2016July 5, 2016

Placidity Amidst Raging Waves

“Saevis Tranquillus in Undis:
Placidity Amidst Raging Waves”
— life motto of William of Orange

On the second day of my trip to The Nethelands, I visited an impressive exhibit on the history of William of Orange in his house/palace called Prinsenhof in Delft. Before that, I thought about William of Orange first of all as a rebel leader, so I was surprised by his life motto written on the wall of the exhibit hall: “Placidity amidst raging waves”. Although William was undoubtedly a rebel, he became one quite reluctantly. In fact, during the iconoclasm in Holland, he predicted that it would cause a major political and personal disaster to everyone involved. He also struggled quite a bit to reconcile his oath of allegiance to the king with his inherent loyalty to his country, ultimately represented by its people.

Overall, I find it tremendously impressive how forward-thinking William was in his political views and in his exercise of restraint (he was nicknamed “William the Silent“). Perhaps, it is his personal trait of tolerance and progressive views that continues to manifest itself in Holland’s ability to continuously ride the wave of progress, from near-exclusive (with the exception of Portugal) trade agreement with Japan in the Middle Ages to art of the post-Renessance to technological innovations of the modern days.

In general, the ability to remain calm in the face of external perturbations is the key to mastering skills and life situations. For example, the space before the stimulus and the reaction is crucial in kendo, which is arguably a model for everything else in life, as described by Minamoto Musashi, whose “The Book of Five Rings” has been very influential in the business world. Even in photography, I often find that it is good to take time time to observe the subject instead of immediately starting to shoot in fear of missing the opportunity. A little pause allows me to choose a better viewpoint and composition and ultimately, to learn more about the subject.

June 13, 2016

Travel photography gear: to be or not to be nimble

26650473564_ca9c9b84c8_k

It seems that every time I am about to travel somewhere, I debate whether to take a particular piece of photo gear, e.g. a tripod, a certain lens, a flash, etc. The reason I hesitate to take everything that I may potentially need is that lugging around a heavy backpack really detracts from the experience of travel, and can even be detrimental to the photography aspect of it (e.g. it can limit your access to certain cites, or it can make you tired, so you would be more likely to miss photo opportunities). It really makes a lot of sense to be nimble, to borrow a term from Derrick Story.

When considering whether to take a particular piece of equipment on a trip or not, if I really want to be systematic about making the decision, I find it useful to apply a principle that Cal Newport describes in his book “Deep Work”. The idea is that while any tool has some potential to be useful, it often has drawbacks. The logical thing to do is to use the tool only if the benefits outweigh the drawbacks.

In the case of travel photography, for example, if I foresee an opportunity to shoot a sporting event, I take the 1Dx body because of its great autofocus speed, despite the relative bulk. However, if I will have only a few hours to explore the new location, my iPhone would allow me much greater mobility, while still giving an opportunity to capture some images.

IMG_5552-Edit

March 16, 2016

On motorcycle riding

I find that riding a motorcycle, just the fact of being a rider, serves as a kind of universal human connector. If you show up anywhere (at a cafe, at a ferry lineup, etc.) in your motorcycle gear, people strike up conversations with you. “I have an antique Suzuki back at home…” “My dad used to ride a Harley during the War…” Things like that just don’t happen if you show up in a car.

As a professor, I am always looking for ways to connect to students, to find common points of interest beyond the classroom. These connections translate into a more human approach to teaching (or at least, so I hope). During my first year of teaching, I was lucky to have a student in my class, who has just joined our kendo club. Just knowing that we share the common interest helped tremendously in establishing the rapport with the entire class. Yesterday, I rode my bike for the first time this year, and several of the students, who came to my office, saw the helmet on my shelf and told me that they also ride bikes.

January 21, 2016February 5, 2016

Storytelling using a smartphone

Evernote Camera Roll 20160121 162348 I am writing this post on the plane on my way back to Victoria from Milan, where I was attending a PhD defense and presenting a seminar on using flow visualization in fluid mechanics research. Usually, I try to combine these kind of work trips with photography, but taking some time between work to go on photo shoots. The last time I did this with a particular focus was during a trip to Shanghai.

For this trip to Milan, for the first time in a while, I did not bring a DSLR. The trip was going to be very short, so I thought that it would be appropriate to test the “nimble photography” mode (the term was coined by Derek Story, the author of the first photography podcast that I ever listened to). I brought just by iPhone 6 Plus, which has an excellent camera and, unlike my 1 Dx, allows instant sharing of the photos.

Well, I can report that I did a lot less less photography during this trip than I usually do. When I did take photos, they were mostly snapshots. Also, and perhaps most importantly, I found that I lacked the habit (and consequently, the skill) of instantly sharing the photos, so I didn’t make much use of the iPhones connectedness, other than sending snapshots of my dinner plates featuring risotto alla Milanese and other “produtto tipico” to my wife.

Having said this, rapid communication is a skill, and I believe it is a matter of practice to develop it and turn it into a habit. I saw this in action when I went to see “Rigoletto” at la Scala on the last evening of my trip. Before the third act, Russell Crowe showed up with his entourage and proceeded to the Platea. As soon as he entered he took out his phone, snapped a few pictures of the interior of the concert hall and Twitted one of the ceiling with just a couple of words as a subtitle: “la Scala… Verdi’s Rigoletto”. He was very unapologetic and matter-of-fact about this, even though the “house rules” website of la Scala is explicit about not bringing phones to the hall. This is the rule that almost everyone, including myself, ignored anyway.

Thinking about it, I realized that what Mr. Crowe did was, legitimately, story telling. Granted, what he wrote was not “War and Piece”, but it was absolutely better than nothing. It is just like showing up for just the last act of the opera is better than not showing up at all.

Perhaps, we, as human beings, are evolionary, programmed to like storytelling, both as tellers and as listeners. I think this is related to being good at transmitting useful information, that enable survival of our cave-dwelling ancestors. So, regarding the tools of the visual storytelling trade (i.e. an iPhone vs. a DSLR), bringing a professional-grade tool compels us to take the picture-taking seriously, but can detract from the actual experience (e.g. I might have decided to go for a nigh photoshoot instead of the Scala if had lugged the backpack-full of photo gear half way around the world) and therefore limit the storytelling opportunities.

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this: