Work in progress

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Amazing thing about Gothic cathedrals is that they take enormous amounts of time to construct and require restoration immediately after being built. The amount of detail in their stonework is so great that the restoration process never stops – it just moves around the perimeter of the building. I was told about this by a stone restoration worker, who took a break from his work on Lednice castle and came down from the scaffolding to ask me about my camera. It turned out that he was a photo enthusiast too. Too bad that we did not have a common language to speak, so we had to resort to a mixture of Czech, Russian, English and German – both of us understood different, non-intersecting subsets of these languages to various degrees.

During the recent trip to Milan, I had a chance to take some photos of the people working on the cathedral. Since my research is related to acoustics, I was particularly interested in the work of acousticians, who were sampling the sound of the organ by moving the microphone to various locations in the nave and recording several repeating notes and musical fragments.

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Time commitment 

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I think the reason why photographs remain popular even though video conveys more information is that the time commitment associated with video is much larger than that of photography. This applies to all aspects, starting from production, where editing takes an enormous amount of time from a photographer’s perspective (in my experience, and I have heard others confirm it, the rule of thumb is one hour of editing for every minute of video for short clips.) The content consumption stage, i.e. watching a video, also requires more time that watching a photo. A photo can be hung on a wall and enjoyed every time our eye falls upon it, while a piece of video mush be viewed in its entirety to be appreciated.

Also, paradoxically, a good photo can potentially engage the viewer more than a video would precisely because a photo contains less information (there is no sound, no physical movement, etc.) Therefore, the viewer has to rely on his/her own experience and imagination to fill in what is missing in a photo: e. g. how fast is the sprinter running? How strong is the wind? How hot is the weather? Perhaps, a good photo is a kind of collaboration between the photographer and the audience, and that is why it can be both produced and enjoyed with a limited time commitment from either side.

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Freedom of choice

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In Japan, travel agencies promote pre-packaged trips, where everything, including every single meal are pre-determined. This level of planning, where travelers have zero choice once they have subscribed to the trip is probably unique to Japan, but there is some logic to it, as having too much choice results in wasted mental and emotional energy and, consequently, lost opportunity to actually experience the trip (the philosophical paradox of the Buridan’s Ass is an extreme example of this).

Personally, I prefer when some travel plans are set in advance (the planning process itself is an important and exciting part of the trip), but some details are left to be finalized on the spot (this certainly applies to the menu choices of each meal). The balance between giving only few prescribed options and allowing some freedom to customize the experience is tricky. In a sense, it is like selecting a watch face of an apple watch: you have many options to play with, but not enough to paralyze you with indecision. 5D_MG_2880_06-18-10-Edit.jpg

Stonework

AA5Q4986_05-21-2015-Edit.jpgWhen I climbed to the roof of the Duomo do Milano and looked through the layers of intricate gothic stone carvings at the streets below, all I could think was that it looked like lace. I had a similar impression of the Doge’s Palace in Venice and, most recently, of the Alhambra Palace in Granada. What distinguishes the gothic cathedral for me is that it looks like its elements are flying upward, as if in an explosion of vertical lines and tiny details. I tried to show this by using a wide lens (Canon 16-35mm f/2.8L, which distorts the image in favour of keeping the straight lines straight).

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In contrast, the carvings in Alhambra did not look particularly dynamic. Instead, repeating patterns lead the eye to infinity, which, in fact, is one of the techniques of the muslim art that conveys the infinity of the universe. For close-ups of these patters, I used a telephoto lens to visually compress the perspective.

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Surface tension

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One of my research projects involves impact of liquid droplets on various surfaces, which causes splashes – a photogenic phenomenon dominated by surface tension effects. Many photographers approach this subject from a purely aesthetic point of view, while the inherent motivation for engineers and physicists is analytic. Fluid mechanics of droplets, soap bubbles, smoke, clouds, etc. is fascinating from both the “classic” and “romantic” perspectives, to borrow the terminology from Robert Pirsig’s “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry Into Values“.

Certainly, having water in some form as part of the image adds some an aspect of interest to the photo. This is a well-known fact in landscape photography, but I recently came across a surface-tension-related subject on a street in Amsterdam – two street performers creating giant soap bubbles using a rope dipped in soap water. Incidentally, I found that I could temporally resolve burst of the bubble using a 10 frames per second burst of my Canon EOS-1D X.

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Alhambra

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We visited the palace-fortress-gardens complex of Alhambra in Granada in 45-degree (C) weather with our three-year-old daughter and with no particular plan for photography. I wanted to try to capture our subjective impression of the sizzling heat through close-up portraits, but I also wanted to take some descriptive photos of this famous tourist attraction. The place is so overwhelmingly beautiful, with its lace of stone carvings and bubbling fountains, that I quickly ran out of creative ideas of what to photograph besides the cliche shots of people posing in front of the pools receding into the background, framed by orange trees. AA5Q0386_07-04-2015.jpg

In that sense, it was very helpful to take a break from walking through the gardens and temporarily escape the heat by visiting a photography exhibit in one of the palaces that featured the architecture of Alhambra. Seeing the same subject through someone else’s lens not only highlighted the iconic viewpoint, but also defined what not has been done (at least within the scope of that particular exhibit). The main idea that I took from the exhibit was to vary the technique for the single subject. For example, I tried to shoot the carved walls looking directly at them and at very oblique angles, using shallow and deep depth of field, long and short lenses, in direct light and in contre-jour, etc.

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On timing

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Timing of delivery is tremendously important in photography. This is obvious in such genres as reportage, event coverage, etc., but even in less obvious genres like travel and family photography I constantly find that sharing the photos immediately, or at least shortly after taking them, makes them more valuable in terms of the emotional impact.

In fact, some professional photographers believe that ability to make the photos available to public (or clients) as quickly as possible is more important than even the quality of the images. I think that there is some truth in it, but some level of quality still determines the inherent value of a photo. However, in every aspect of the production workflow (lighting, costumes/makeup, posing, post-processing) there is a point of diminishing returns, after which additional work results in progressively smaller improvements in quality. Therefore, upon reaching this point in every aspect of the photo production, the image should be shared/delivered. Finding this critical stage could be a valuable skill and is definitely worth practicing. AA5Q6901_06-11-2015.jpg

Artistic skill

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Street artists were hard at work at Plaza Balcón de Europa in Nerja (Spain) every night during our stay there. Their popularity among tourists obviously varied. The cartoonist who drew funny caricatures of models was, by far, the most popular artist. His skill was great, both in observation of the distinguishing features of his clients and in the drawing technique itself.

I think it can be traced, at least in part, to the sheer number of hours he spends practicing his craft. He was there literally every night, with the uninterrupted stream of clients, who were eager to pay 25 euros or so for their portraits. This was definitely, a high-volume operation, as far as selling art was concerned. I have had a couple of experiences with selling photography that way (helping to cover sporting and performance events), and every time, I was left with a feeling of having wasted my time. The whole production process was so mechanical and emotionally draining, that it left no space for creativity.

This time, observing the cartoonist, I was wondering how this artist was able to maintain his motivation to set up shop on the daily basis. Perhaps, the difference in the production processes between his “analog” drawing and digital photography is the key. Even though he worked very fast, he still spent considerable time on small details (which is the most fun, in my personal experience) and on what would be referred to in photography as “post-processing” – adjusting and manipulating the image that he had captured in his mind. Maybe, the way to stay motivated and to have fun with photography is to allow sufficient time to think about and work on individual images – something that is easy to lose in the digital workflow. AA5Q1230_07-06-2015.jpg

Summer heat

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I find that our perception of air temperature is not only subjective, but also relative, i.e. it depends on what we experienced recently. My recent trip to Europe was unusually long and included stays in Italy, Russia, Netherlands, so I had an opportunity to compare summer weather in these countries. Genoa in May seemed very hot. There were a couple of days when people flocked to the beach in the neighbouring Boccadasse, a Chinque Terre-like idyllic town, and the purple-coloured fountain in the middle Genoa looked like an oasis in the hot maze of the narrow streets. IMG_2788-Edit.jpg

Eighteen degrees (Celsius) in Amsterdam felt cold after hot and humid Voronezh, and it set a stage for the 45-degree heat of Madrid to be almost shocking. The good news about Spanish heat is that the humidity is low, which makes it tolerable. Also, further South, in Nerja, the temperature was much more comfortable 35 degrees, and the breeze from the sea made for exceptionally nice warm evenings – something that I miss in Victoria.

Weather is an important aspect of photographs, but I often forget to consciously convey it in the pictures. Most of our everyday activities are weather-independent, yet weather has a strong emotional resonance – perhaps, a remnant of prehistoric times. As I work through my photos, I will try to use the photos with distinct weather elements to paint a more personal picture of the various locations. This is quite challenging, though, as our sense of temperature is inherently non-visual, so the visual clues of summer heat are often subtle and indirect (sweat on the subject’s forehead, blueish shadow in harsh light, etc.)

Perhaps, it would make an interesting project to try to show different kinds of weather, from nice to nasty to dangerous in a single series of photos.

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Patterns of Spain

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My wife and I have never went on a cruise, because we always thought that a whirlwind visit to a foreign country, where you change a location every day and have only few hours to explore each town would detract from the experience of travel by not allowing us to see the country through the eyes of someone who lives there, albeit for a short time. During our most recent trip to Spain, we drove from Madrid to Nerja, stopping for a night in Merida along the way. I thought that this would be a very leisurely pace for exploring the rural Andalusia, but the variety of patterns we saw in the landscapes around us was so overwhelming that at some point I gave up trying to mentally capture these in hope to somehow “process” them in the future. At that time, I released that no pace would be too slow to fully experience a country.

Rick Steves, whose travel guides I find very helpful in determining key destinations of a trip, points out that a foreign country is similar to a good novel in the sense that it leaves a better impression when visited the second time around. Certainly, the attitude of assuming that I will return to the place another time helps me personally to avoid (or at least mitigate) regrets of not being able to jam all possible points of interest and experiences in the single trip’s agenda.

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In terms of photography, I tried to change the style of my landscape and street photos a bit, by focussing not so much on the composition, but specifically on patterns of light and colour. Using an analogy with painting and drawing, I wanted my images to be more like sketches that capture the impression of the scene, rather than studies of the subjects. My intend was to take care of the composition in post-processing. Hopefully, these visual patterns will become a sort of bookmarks for more detailed memories. Otherwise, the amount of new information that we are exposed during any trip (if we are paying attention to it, which itself cannot be taken for granted) is so tremendous that keeping it all at the same level of memory, with direct access to every tiny detail, is simply impossible.

 

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