Centre Street Bridge

Not a perfect image but I do like the repetitive curves and the diagonal 'braces'. I don't like the barely visible other arch to the left of the centre buttresses and the fact that I inadvertently cut off the curve of the arch in the upper left isn't acceptable.

I think in hind sight I should have moved back if possible, shooting with a longer lens and also moved closer to the line of the bridge to hide that arch. The image has enough potential to make that worth while. Next time round I might want to blend two exposures so the detail in the darker areas shows less noise - the shadows have been opened dramatically and even the 1Ds2 exhibits considerable noise and sometimes linear lines when I manipulate the shadows that much. Mind you, don't suppose the bridge is going anywhere - will see if I can reshoot this weekend.

Comments On The Gallery Experience

I highly recommend anyone considering gallery shows read the comments appended to my article of yesterday on my gallery experience. Comments vary from 'you were taken' to 'scam!' to that sounds about right and various shades in between. Reading all the comments though gives a very good picture of gallery experiences and I think will be helpful. I hope more people will comment on their gallery experiences, expectations, successes and failures.

I'd be curious about how much room there is to negotiate with gallery owners - as to % commission and who pays what and working down the framing costs - or simply telling the gallery that no, I won't supply huge expensive prints. DO photographers have any power in this area or is it like it or lump it?

A Different Selling Experience

Having related yesterday my less than stellar gallery experience of the last year, let me give you a different experience and you can make of it what you will. Some of the story has been discussed before but here's a bit more detail.

Three years ago a new 'farmers market' started up, not far from my home - on a retired military base. It was to be a bit more upscale than the usual market. I really hadn't paid much attention but my tennis partner had been over a few times and suggested I might want to consider selling my photographs there since they did in fact have a number of crafts on exhibit already. he even went to the trouble to talk to the manager and gave me some basic information.

With some doubts I decided I should at least check it out. On my afternoon off I wandered by and talked to the manager. The first thing I found out was the market was open Friday through Sunday which was impossible for me - I'm a full time family doctor. She did say though that a few of the booths were owned by hutterite colonies and one group didn't want to either work Sunday or hire someone to sell for them on Sunday - and a booth would be available Sundays only.

She liked my work and would be glad to have me at the market. We discussed amongst other things whether I should sell framed work and the consensus of people that day was that framed would sell a lot better.

I invested several hundred dollars in frames over the next few weeks (inexpensive Ikea wood frames) and got a matte cutting device (another $300) and mattes. I had a friend shrink wrap a starter pack of prints which I displayed in wicker baskets from Ikea. There were display cases for vegetables so I bought some cheap velvet curtain material and draped it over the benches and laid my framed prints on this as well as the basket of prints.

Not surprisingly sales were slow to get started. There was a fair amount of interest and it was quite pleasant right from day one talking photography with people who said nice things about my work, and every so often someone would buy a print. I started with a couple of prints a day and slowly sales picked up. After a year I was selling about a dozen prints a day and making about $500 for the day. My costs were substantial - it seemed like every few weeks I was having to buy another case (or two) of acid free foam core at $150 per 20 sheets, and more mylar bags, at about $1 each. I was purchasing ink and printing paper about every two weeks and spending about $1000 a month on supplies in total.

I sold 8.5X11 prints in the mylar bag, with foam core backing for easy handling at $39, 13X19 at $59. I quickly found that people much preferred to purchase the bagged prints, even though it was going to cost them a lot more to get frames and in the end I had a large quantity of unsold frames. Lugging them to the market was gradually marking them and after several months I gave up on framed prints entirely.

Rent for the booth was quite cheep $50 for the day. There came a day though that I had a tough decision. I was going to lose my booth and be relegated to the dark back of the market unless I went 3 days a week. I was getting enough requests for large prints that I invested in a 24 inch 7600 printer. The 7800 was already out but as I was doing most of my work with the 4000, I felt that it didn't make sense to purchase a printer whose main claim to fame was the ability to do glossy when I was using matte paper only, and which would require an entirely different set of inks - so the 7600. That cost me about $2500 (the Candian dollar was quite low at the time).

I debated and decided I'd invested enough by this point and sales were picking up that I'd go for the three days. Now I had to hire staff and I had to build display cases since the vegetable racks weren't there in the winter. I needed extra lighting so I did a deal with the Hutterites to share the cost of installing flood lights to augment the overhead mercury vapour lights.

At one point I purchased $600 dollars of 32X40 Crane Museo paper only to find out that under the mercury lights it took on a very yellow cast not seen at home - making sales virtually impossible - I still have it - unused exc. the first few sheets, and unreturnable. I needed more wicker baskets as I dropped framed prints and went to baskets for 8.5X11, 13X19, 17X22, colour and black and white, and also vertical prints. I was now buying foam core 3 boxes at a time (which at least got me a professional discount that helped) but my expenses if you amortized the new printer were keeping up with income.

By the end of last August I was pretty tired - I'd often be printing Saturday night until 3 am Sunday to get ready for the market. I'd often have to make prints Thursday night after working at the office till 10 PM, then deliver them to the market Friday morning before going to work at the office. My wife started to complain that I was exhausted and cranky and that perhaps I should end the market. Unfortunately she was right.

In the end I sold about $40,000 worth of photographs but if you include the cost of the two printers, my expenses were almost exactly the same. had I been a bit closer to retirement - doing the market three days a week by myself could have paid quite nicely (after all I didn't have a lot of capital costs any more) but it was all a bit more hassle and hours than I really could afford to put in.

Work around the house and garden had virtually come to a stand still because of the market and time to photograph was getting harder to arrange. Pressure though to have new work for the next Sunday did keep me going though so was a bit of a mixed blessing.

Meeting people at the market during that two year period did result in one gallery show at the University when I met an old sailing buddy, and a local publisher suggested that there might be a book in my work, if only we could find a company to underwrite the publishing costs - never happened but perhaps if I'd continued.

I have no regrets that I did it and some that I gave it up, but I know I made the right decision. I put in a hell of a lot of hours doing it to break even but suspect that in the end it would have produced a decent income had I only been working in my office 3 or 4 days a week. There were even days at the market that I made more money selling photographs than I did practicing medicine - I think that in the end I could have anticipated netting $10,000-$20,000 a year, not unreasonable for 2 days work a week but hardly generous.

Would it have led to greater things - possibly, but no gallery is going to touch you when you have established your reputation for selling images for $59 to $500. It might have led to some corporate deals - there was certainly talk - supply my entire company with artwork kind of idea - but it might not. I certainly wouldn't have had time for this blog had I stayed at the market. I wouldn't have had time to write those articles for outbackphoto or luminous landscape.

Perhaps this will make you think outside the normal markets for your work. Certainly when I wrote about galleries I got lots of horror story comments, perhaps this time someone can tell us of how they made a fortune selling their work.

The Gallery Experience

9 months ago a gallery contacted me (I'd never heard of them) from across the country suggesting that I might want to exhibit at their gallery. they were looking for around 20 very large prints (the bigger the better), colour landscape only and were pretty firm about which images they wanted - reasonable - it's their gallery - though I did wonder about some of the choices.

They explained that the images needed to be framed and offered to do it at a good price (it was reasonable and certainly solved the freight problem). They wanted to display the images in frame but without glass - a little nerve wracking since unlike oil or acrylic paintings, the least finger print or paper scratch would ruin an inkjet print - but they're right the prints do look better without glass.

In the end I made 24 prints. At their request I borrowed (rented) an Epson 9800 to produce four 36 inch square prints (which really did look gorgeous). two 44 inch rolls of Entrada, purchase of some ink and recompense to the owner of the printer and I was out $500+. Total cost for producing the prints for the show was probably $1500 all up (all you need is one blotch of ink on the white border of these large prints and you have to start over). Framing and other gallery costs for the show came to $5100 which broken down was competitive with framing done locally. Costs for advertising and invitations and so on were shared with the gallery, my share was about $1000. I had elected not to travel to the opening and spend the trip money on the advertising.

SO, before the show opens, I'm out about $6000. I write them a cheque for half ($3000), the rest is going to hopefully be made out of sales. the good news is as of this month I'm down to owing them $800 which with a few more sales will be erased.

Sales for the show and after were a grand total of 3 prints, none of which were the biggest prints. The only image that has sold from the show is 'Peggy's Cove' about which I wrote a few weeks ago under the title 'Photographing Cliches'. The prints sell for $900 plus frame, are approx. 24X36 including white border.

So, I still owe the gallery $800, I paid them $3000, I spent $1500 making the prints so my net income for the show is a minus $5300. The odds of me breaking even with the gallery are slim at best.

Welcome to the real world of gallery exhibits.

You might wonder if I'm bitter, or if my experience is unusual, if the gallery ripped me off or if this is what should be expected.

Let me make it clear - I think the gallery was entirely reasonable. They have ongoing expenses in rent and staffing, they shared in some of the advertising and opening costs. They did the work of the framing and supplied the framing and matting material (not inconsequential). Their income had to come from the sale of those three prints - they can't afford to be especially generous to photographers without a huge reputation.

I know that this experience is similar to that of many other photographers working with galleries and better than some.

I would remind you that being known amongst photographers doesn't count - photographers are generally not purchasers of photographs - now and then - sure, but the number of photographers who have spent over $1000 in their entire lives acquiring photographs is miniscule and not enough to fully support even the Barnbaums, Sextons, kennas and so on.

Burtynsky does well as do a limited number of others, because they have caught the public eye and offer a product that is different, topical, even controversial - no one has made a movie about my work - Burtynsky has - and it's quite good by the way.
His images tie in closely to current environmental concerns and even political ones with his images of China and Bangladesh, photographs of massive junk piles and old tires make a strong statement about our consumerism and waste and recycling and the environment which are hard to ignore and receive a lot of press.

One of the more successful photographers in the fine art world is ALain Briot but he works extrmely hard marketing his work, teaches workshops, writes books and spends considerable time doing mundane stuff to support his creative work.

One reads of gallery owners being crooks but frankly I'd not want to run a gallery - looks like a very risky business, subject to fashions and the whims of the public. In Calgary right now the economy is booming but oddly all that money isn't being spent on the arts - Winnipeg which is a working class town with a tough climate and lots of mosquitos has been a huge promoter and incubator of the arts for years. Go figure.

I think this is simply the reality of gallery work.

Did they pick the wrong prints - well the 4 extra that I sent them didn't sell so I'd guess not.

A novice photographer with some original ideas had a show in Calgary. She had the idea of hiring a publicist. She got on breakfast shows and talk shows and in the newspaper. Her show was such a success she paid off her costs the first night and made several thousand dollars by the end of the show.

You may get lucky, but I'd not bet on it. Many photographers cannot afford to take such a huge loss so gambling on suceess isn't even an option for them. For me it means one week of holiday a year (I can't afford more) and it means I won't be trying such an experiment again any time soon.

What can you do about it? Well, I have a friend who is displaying his images of France at a local French Cultural Institution. They mailed out very nice invites and are hanging a number of his images. The prints though aren't huge. He's buying frames in bulk - all the same size - and matting them himself. The show is local so there are no shipping costs and he will hang the show himself. The wall space comes free so his costs aren't huge and even though he stands to lose money, it will be a good experience and it won't take that many sales to even more than break even. The prints will be inexpensive and because of the cultureal tie in, he might just sell well.

You might find similar modest displays just right for you - a restaurant say, who can't afford to buy your prints but is happy to give you the wall space in return for decorating their establishment. A local movie theatre we like has original art on the wall - same idea.

So, consider relatively small prints in a standard size frame you can purchase in bulk cheaply, do your own matting and get your images hung locally and inexpensively.

Looking Back

Now and again it can be rewarding to look back at where we have come from and the journey we have taken, in this case, photographically. It's nice to remind ourselves that despite any day to day discouragement, we have in fact made progress, our images work on more levels, we have fewer technical problems. We may not have any more 'keepers' as we become fussier with more experience but our keepers typically are stronger.

Looking back can also give us a sense of how far we have to go and can point us to where we need to put more effort.

Looking back at our work over the last year can give us ideas of what works for us (and what doesn't).

It can even give us ideas for a project. It can be an excuse to print up a portfolio of best images of the year.

I suspect a lot of us would like to be remembered for our photography as much as our careers and leaving behind a series of boxes labeled 'best of XXXX' sure wouldn't hurt - maybe someone will publish a retrospective of our careers - well we can dream can't we. Of course, we'll be dead but perhaps our images will live on - that would be nice - even if it's only family members who ever get to see them.

If you have a website with dozens or even hundreds of images - it it clear which images you are prepared to stake your reputation on? I don't and now that I think of it, perhaps I'll do something about that.

Vertical or Horizontal

You probably figure that you orient your camera according to the subject matter - it if it composes better as a vertical, well that's the way you orient it - yeah, right!

Go through your images from the last month and count how many vertical and horizontal - want to bet that most are one way or the other and no where near 50% and likely you are a horizontal kind of person.

Arguably we live in a HORIZONtal world so that isn't too surprising, especially for snap shots. Also, only a limited number of professional level cameras are set up for vertical orientation and even then viewfinder information and lcd information don't match the orientation so in general cameras are a lot easier to orient horizontally.

Unless you use an L bracket (I do and find it invaluable), then leaning your camera way over to the side to orient vertically is awkward at best and unstable much of the time.

Still, when you think of all the full page magazine covers that are vertical you might just be a little bit curious about your own percentages - are you a horizontal kind of person or do you swing the other way?

Perhaps you should be asking yourself - 'am I picking my format out of habit, convenience or tradition?' and 'Is this an opportunity to shake things up a little and use the other format more often?'

Work Habits

Sometimes I think I have ADD (other times my wife is sure), but anyway, I'm not the most organized person in the world. As a result, I have had to learn to set up routines which reduce errors.

For example: in my backpack, I have two inside pockets. The one on the right always has memory cards ready to use, the left ones that have been exposed. I never break this rule and I never forget which is which.

When I set up the tripod, I always have one leg pointing forward, two back (so I can stand between the legs).

I prefer manual exposure for a number of reasons but one is I don't forget that I dialed in an exposure correction and forgot to remove it.

All my worked on images go into a documents folder, labelled sequentially and a new one added when the last one has a lot of images. this means that all my good photographs sit in one of (currently) 14 folders and I can quickly find an image to reprint. There are lots of ways to do this, this method happens to work for me. Every so often I burn a dvd set of backups of my good images (as well as a backup hard drive) and all I have to do is go to each folder and back up any images changed since the last backup. As these are in addition to the previous backup (not over it), if I find that I have made edits to an image which I regret, it's still possible to go back to how the image was a couple of years ago.

If I do something significant to an image, I will version the file so I can always go back to the previous version - eg. using Akvis Enhancer, I try to save an unenhanced version (which may become important if I am making larger prints than usual). Some people save output sharpened images by specifying size, as I print in a number of different sizes to suit the customer, I find that impractical so I don't save output sharpening at all - sure it takes a minute to sharpen the file before reprinting - but it's not a big deal and sure means less clutter on the hard drive.

When I sell an image, I use a 2H pencil to very lightly sign the back, date the print and indicated my web address. I include with the print an info sheet which gives some background to the image (and sometimes the techniques and equipment). It also specifies which printer and paper I have used, supplies my address and website and email (hopefully to generate future sales - it helps).

I find customers spend at least as much time looking at the back of the print (the info sheet) as they do the front. Even with close up and abstract images in which 'place' isn't really important, they like the story of the image (and for the most part couldn't care about the technical details. I think it was Alain Briot who said that customers are buying an experience, not a print. This may be one reason that personal sales generally far outstrip internet sales - it's not just a matter of inspecting print quality (which frankly probably means nothing to many of our customers anyway).

Three Image Stitch

This is the three image stitched version of the previous post, slightly different framing and with the addition of Guinness, our Humane Society black lab. To give you an idea of resolution, in the full size version 6500X5100 pixels (about 34 megaxixels), you can see the braiding on the dog's collar. We both had a great day, though he sure had a lot less trouble hoofing it up those steep canyon sides. Must have been the backpack....

Badlands

Horseshoe Canyon, on way to Drumheller, Alberta. Small size it definitely looks too complicated but at larger size the details sort themselves out. Do click on the image to see a larger version.

Rock Cut Abstract

Evolution

The image above is the recent result of deciding I didn't like the original colour image - it was well put together but left me cold. At the last minute I decided, what the heck, what if I converted to black and white, and what if I trimmed the excess light areas left and right, even though it meant clipping the end of the ladder.



In the colour version, I'm not happy with the end of the ladder - it seems to me it should have been spaced equally or at least proportionately in the corner whereas it touches the bottom of the image but not the side - small detail? sure, but petty, no I don't think so - it's a whole bunch of these little decisions that make a big difference to an image.

Full Range Of Tones? Not Always

Two days ago I posted the image of a windshield, covered in raindrops and rivulets and vaguely showing the outline of the car interior. The first version of the image was almost straight, a little bit of Akvis Enhancer is all (ie. applied then faded back). I made my first print, then the next day decided it was too dark and I should zip it up a little bit. My first thought was to check to see how close to white I had got the highights and so I applied my threshold 250 layer on top of the image and not a single pixel reached that level - there was going to be NO white anywhere on the print. I then added a curves layer below the threshold layer (see Outback Photo for my article on using threshold layers to check highlights and shadows) and moved the white limit to the left until a few pixels hit the 250 mark - it took a lot of adjustment suggesting that the lightest tone in this print is actually quite dark - zone VI, say. I could see from the histogram that comes with the curves adjustment layer that the shadows too were no where near black - so I tried moving the black point to the right to meet the curve. I made some adjustments to the curve - and hated the result - way too contrasty - you could see too much of the car insside - I'd lost all subtlety. I decided on a compromise - I'd adjust the highilght position but not the shadow, and use a curve to reduce contrast - and made another print.

After 24 hours I realize that that print lacks the subtlety of the original image and that in fact I didn't need or want either a solid black or a solid white for this image.

Unusual? Sure it is, but the point is that rules like always having a full range of tones is like every other photographic rule - sometimes it's meant to be broken, in this case smashed entirely.

What's Not To Like

In writing about the characteristics of good photographs, it generated some interesting discussion and various photographers were suggested whose images might not fit my criteria and I have added further comments of my own in response.

That said, it raises other issues and to illustrate the point, I'll start of by referring to music.

I don't like all kinds of music - most Jazz leaves me cold, for example. I recognize that it's clever, skilled and I can even see why some people like it, but the reality is that a lot of jazz sounds all the same to me.

I seethat this is a deficiency in me and not the music since clearly other people really like it, can see the differences and appreciate the subtleties. A lot of 'new' music is actually painful to my ear.

If the analogy holds, then I shouldn't expect to like all photography or even be capable of seeing the things which make some images apparently great to others (enough to hang them in museums).

This is quite disturbing because is basically means that it's hard to make judgements about any photography at all. In the end I can only decide what I like and to look at it and purchase books and even prints. I can recommend the work of photographers I like but knowing my judgement may be based on ignorance, I am really putting myself out on a limb to say that any photography is crap and you should avoid it.

Kinda makes you wonder about critics - is something bad because it lacks what the critic defines as good , or is it that even the critic is ignorant because this is a new type of photography which simply hasn't been learned yet.

Is that an ugly car or do I just not 'get it'? Disturbing.

Rainy Day Shot

What Makes A Photograph Good?

Below are some characteristics common to many (but not all) good photographs. There are definitely great images which break one or even all of the rules, but you'd be well advised to consider these rules and ignore them only when you have a specific reason to do so.

1) the photographs are interesting - I don't mean the subject matter - there needs to be something in the print to catch your eye. You may photograph your lover, but for us to be interested in the photograph, there has to be something that we can see that is interesting - we can't see their personality - the interest has to come from the composition, the pose, their appearance. the print has to be interesting minus the feel of the wind, the warmth of the sun, the smell of the pines.

2) compositions are simple - any item in the picture has to reinforce the main theme, not stand on it's own as another interesting detail

3) a good photograph tends to have a sense of rightness to it - the various parts are arranged in a pattern which makes sense. It may not be harmony or balance since that's not necessarily what you aim for, but there has to be an organizing pattern to the arrangement.

4) It's uncommon for a great photograph to have harsh lighting. So unless you specifically want harsh lighting, you'd be well advised to avoid it. This doesn't necessarily mean you can't photograph at noon, you just need to plan.

5) Great colour photographs usually have a limited palette of colours which work together. When colours are similar, they have to be very similar, when not they need to be complementary - more or less opposite on the colour wheel.

6) Great photographs show the unusual or the unnoticed - either the subject is something most of us don't get to see (because of travel or not getting up early enough) or it's so ordinary that we tend to pay little attention until someone points out that the old warehouse has interesting shapes, patterns, shadows, etc.

7) The best photographs don't need big cameras and fine printing- I'm uncomfortable even writing that since I am a great believer in the highest quality printing standards, but there's some truth that the better the image, the less dependent it is on pristine quality. Yes, perhaps pepper # 30 benefited from being shot on 8X10 instead of 35 mm. with a fast film, but I'd bet it would still look great. I have never seen pepper # 30. Oh, I've seen many's the reproductions and certainly the better ones show you more of why it's a great photograph - but none look bad. I think we sometimes hide behind careful technique, using it as a substitute for making great images. I know for myself, when I was younger, I tried to solve my problems with going to 4X5 instead of learning to see better.

8) Great photographs often have a message - it may only be 'see how pretty this flower is' in which case the image better have shown the flower to advantage, revealing it's beauty. The message may be one of passing on a feeling - of tranquility or anger, disgust or excitement, joy or sadness.

9) A lot of really good images make you wonder - 'where is he going?', 'what's round that corner?'

10) And last and most importantly - the truly great photographs are mostly taken by people who take a lot of good photographs and who are ready for the rare great image, but greatness is also a matter of luck. There's a certain something in a truly great image which comes not from the photographer being clever. Sometimes photographers create magic.

Are you ready to create magic?

I will say again, all of the above 'rules' are open to deliberately breaking one or all of them (though it might be tough to create a great image that breaks every one), but for the most part, this is the way to bet.

Playground

Rain

It's been raining much of the weekend and this afternoon I went out just as the rain stopped. The upper image is a slide at the local school, the lower a plant from my garden - Heuchera.

Practising In Your Own Patch

We've had a lively dialogue about the value of exercises, particularly exercises that take you away from your normal area of photography. The particular excersize was mentioned by Ed, from Freeman Patterson's Photography And The Art Of Seeing.

Not to rehash the argument but here's something to think about.

If you set up an exercise within your own area of experience - say you decide to shoot a series of 'different' landscapes at a location you have found fertile before. Here are some limitations and problems with that exercise (which isn't to say you shouldn't do it, just that you should strongly consider moving outside your expertize to practice.

1) Working within your own area, you already have such a strong idea of what works so that seeing anything new is problematic. The tendency is to keep shooting in the same style that has worked for you in the past.

2) Since you are photographing in your own area - it's hard to tell yourself it's just an exercise and the images won't be used to pad your portfolio - you tend to treat the effort too seriously and again limit your creativity. This isn't a problem in the bathroom since you have no intention of showing them to anyone.

3) If exercises are fun, you are more likely to do them. Hauling out my 1Ds2 and tripod to experiment in the bathroom is too much like work. Using my FZ50 on the other hand is painless and fun. That the images aren't recorded with my best camera doesn't really matter.

4) In such an odd location as a bathroom, it's unlikely you have a lot of preconceived idea of what to do or even what to photograph - everything is fresh and new. It's a blank slate. Were the exercise to shoot portraits in a studio, even though you are a landscape photographer, you likely have a pretty good idea of what portraits are meant to look like. Not in a bus, not in a bathroom. Ever seen a picture of the water swirling down the toilet bowl? Didn't think so - but it might make an interesting abstract.

The image above is a poor attempt at a self portrait and I clearly don't have it right yet - but you know, it's not a bad idea and I might just experiment a bit further. So far I don't like the picture on the wall in one mirror and the tile in the other, perhaps I can reshoot it with only the plain walls for background - even if it means taking the picture off the wall.

I'd show you my other bathroom attempts but I want you to have a chance to try this exercise on your own. Perhaps in a few weeks I'll show you mine if you'll show me yours.

Reframing

Great comments yesterday on Exercises and the subject of reframing came up as it refers to psychology. I want to discuss what that means in terms of taking pictures.

Reframing in psychology refers to thinking about events from a different viewpoint. People who are anxious or depressed tend to look at things in the worst possible light. Your boss criticizes you and you jump to the conclusion you are at risk of being fired, that he doesn't like you as a person, that you are no good.

The reframing comes when you look at the situation and realize that maybe your boss didn't sleep well last night and his grumpiness has nothing to do with you. You had a good appraisal last month so his grump today isn't likely to threaten you. He didn't say you were a worthless person, he simply criticised one specific issue - say your spelling. That doesn't mean he doesn't like or respect you.

In photography reframing is not so much about looking at things more accurately. Rather it's almost the opposite - not taking things at face value. You may be looking at a toilet, but can you see it as a series of sensuous curves instead (Edward Weston did). A rectangular object actually appears in a print as a triangle because of perspective - do you see it as a rectangle or a triangle - if the former, then that interferes with your ability to compose. In real world seeing, shadows are ignored. In images they are as substantial as the object that casts them - perhaps even more depending on the tone of the object.

In real life two objects may have no relationship but in an image, they have similar tones and can be arranged next to each other so they do have a relationship - can you see that? This is photographic reframing.

This discussion started with whether it's useful to shoot a subject you would normally have no interest in and so far it looks like the majority feel they can but none of us has been able to prove it.

Do Exercises Have To Be Relevant?

Yesterday I suggested some photographic exercises you might want to try and Ed added the comment that he'd heard about locking yourself in the bathroom till you could fill two rolls of film with different images. Chuck felt that since he isn't a bathroom photographer by inclination or trade, it wasn't all that great an exercise.

So the question of the day is - do we learn enough from doing exercises that don't involve our own area of interest to justify them - are the skills cross applicable?

I remember reading Fred Picker's newsletter in which one assignment was to take formal portraits inside a bus - now most of these people were large format landscape photographers (rocks and roots types) so portraits were hardly their collective 'thing'.

The utility of learning to do portraits inside a bus has to be extremely limited if it doesn't somehow generalize to other kinds of photography. Was such an exercise a waste of time?

Are there examples which we could use to settle the question?

Well, being a painter or drawer or musician certainly seems to be helpful when it comes to learning photography but whether its simply that very creative people can do both well or whether it's the learning of the one that transfers to the other I don't know.

Certainly athletes do lots of training that isn't specific to their sport - basketball players lift weights, cyclists run, etc. but fitness is a long way from photographing - or do I have to start doing pushups?

I guess the question is whether creativity can be trained at all and if so is it specific to certain subjects - ie. if you are very creative at landscapes, are you unlikely to be creative at other subjects you haven't tackled before. My gut instinct is to say that creativity is in fact trainable, that exercises to flex your creative muscles are a good idea and that in fact it does generalize. I'd go further than the bathroom exericse and say that I suspect that practicing creativity in any medium - whether coming up with catchy ads or writing limericks is probably helpful to some degree and that visual creative exercises generalize even more strongly, but I'm not aware of any proof of this.

I wonder if any psychologists amongst us know the answer to that.