Rhythm in calligraphy and kendo

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Timing is an important aspect in Japanese calligraphy (shodo) and martial arts such as kendo. In the latter case, it is, perhaps, not surprising. In calligraphy also, I found that timing of individual brushstrokes is so important that learning the technique from the books, without a teacher, is nearly impossible.

An interesting similarity between calligraphy and kendo is that it is not the rhythm itself, but its variation that elevates the quality of technique. In kendo, varying the timing, breaking up the pattern of attacks and counter-attacks, adds the element of surprise for the opponent and makes the techniques less predictable. In calligraphy, varying the speed of the brushwork adds character to the writing, emphasizes individual characters (kanji) or certain elements of the characters and ultimately gives “interestingness” to the resulting image.

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Social network

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I wrote earlier that for me personally, one of the biggest benefits of practicing martial arts has been the instant camaraderie and the long-lasting friendships built doing it. I find that photography is somewhat similar in that respect. Perhaps, people naturally tend to build social networks around their activities, particularly if there is a true interest or passion in those activities.

Granted, connections with other photographers is typically not as instantaneous as with fellow kendoka or motorcycle riders. When the two hobbies/pursuits intersect, however, the common field of mutual interests becomes so vast that interacting with other photographers sometimes is often the most interesting aspect of a particular photoshoot.

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Contre-jour

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Shooting with the lens pointed into the light source (contre-jour), which produces backlighting of the subject is very effective when the light source is the bright sun. Contre-jour is an alternative to front lighting, which can be extremely contrasty (image above).

Today, during and afternoon soccer game, the bright sun produced a huge dynamic range, which was way beyond the capabilities of a DSLR. To experiment with different lighting, I shot half of the game with frontal lighting and the second half – with backlighting (image below). As expected, the latter images were generally more interesting. I particularly like the edge lighting effect, which is mostly noticeable along the hairlines of the players. By the way, a side note for image conscious soccer players – the photographic appeal of an action portrait is directly proportional to the length of the hairdo.

Shooting against the sun doesn’t solve the problem of the large dynamic range, it just distributes the light (or rather the shadow) uniformly across the subject. The contrast is reduced dramatically, but can be partially recovered in post-processing. Lack of contrast also makes the focus more difficult to achieve; I missed more shots due to autofocus failure than I expected. Overall, my preference for shooting sports in bright sunlight would still be centre-jour, even just for the aesthetics of the edge light.

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Value of competition

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Mental preparation for a contest or an exam is necessary, but not sufficient, for an overall training regiment in kendo. This concept translates to any kind of learning or skill development.

I wrote earlier about photography contests, but I believe the value of competitions extends beyond receiving external feedback on your performance. It is learning about my subjective reactions to an atypical situation that I find most valuable.

Besides the pragmatic usefulness for learning and character development, there is a tremendous social aspect of competitions in any field. In kendo in particular, the comradery built by doing keiko and shiai with people from different countries, of different ages and walks of life is one of my most precious experiences and perhaps the greatest gift of this Way of the sword.

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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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