Is there something symbolic about an unfurling fern?
By Scott Shephard
I continue to indulge my fern fetish by posting this unfurling fern. It has larger meaning of course and is rich with symbolism. But that’s all I have to say today.
The more things change . . . the more they change . . . .
By Scott Shephard
The old saying is that “The more things change, the more they stay the same.” But in the realm of digital photography I believe nothing could be farther from the truth. Recently, I was reading an analysis of the strengths and weaknesses of the various film formats available to a photographer written by a nationally known photography guru. When he gets to 35mm (which is the format emulated by modern digital single lens reflex cameras – aka DSLRs and the kind of camera used to take today’s photo), he says
“35mm is a strictly amateur format. The only legitimate professional use of 35mm [is] for newspapers and sports . . . . ”
In another article offering recommendations for which digital camera to buy he says
“Resolution and ISO are silly numbers used to try to sell you more expensive cameras. . . . Now that every camera has double-digit megapixels, camera makers invented another meaningless number they use to extract more money from the innocent, called ISO (pronounced eye-ess-oh).
ISO is a rough measure of low-light sensitivity. It only matters if you shoot in the dark, and then shoot without flash. As soon as your flash pops up, the higher ISOs aren’t used anyway. Even if you learn how to use the higher ISO settings (few people do), there isn’t much difference between cameras of the same type and era, regardless of cost! All the higher ISO settings do is make the picture look grainier, and the cameras that sport the highest ISO settings look horrible at those settings!”
Well, Mr. Guru, I disagree. In 2014 I don’t believe that a 35mm format camera (such as the Canon 5DIII I shoot with) is for amateurs. Nor do I believe that in 2015 resolution and ISO are silly numbers. Frankly, since 2003, digital cameras have made amazing progress.
Why do I tell you this on “Flashback Sunday?” The photo you are looking at was taken with a DSLR known as the Canon 1D, a camera which represented a revolutionary change in digital photography. The camera cost $5500 without a lens, had a 4.4 megapixel sensor and wasn’t all that great at high ISO. But the photo (taken at a time when I was very much an amateur) isn’t bad. I took this photo in 2003.
I think that in the 21st century, it’s best not to be a Luddite. The Luddites were people who felt so threatened by the machinery of the Industrial Revolution that they set out to sabotage and destroy it. There are some who mourn the obsolescence of film, darkrooms and temperature controlled developers and fixers. But I’m not one of them. My problem is that when I look at a photo such as this one, taken with a dinosaur DSLR like the 1D, I want to go back and photograph it again.
I’m thinking that someday, if I keep up with the pace of change, I will say the same about everything I.m doing now. Such is the nature of change. . .
Canon 1D 1/6s f/2.8 ISO1000 70mm
A black and white photo is really something less than black and white. And a whole lot more . . . .
Forgive my title, which alludes to a best selling book that has nothing to do with ferns or photography. I was just trying to get your attention.
The fact is that a “black and white” photo is actually thousands of shades of gray. And, in this photo, there is little that is either purely black or purely white. The variety of shades is what gives the photo its texture and dimensionality.
Frankly, I really liked this photo in color but when I converted it to a fairly high contrast black and white image, I had a kind of a “holy cow!” moment. It wasn’t the color that I liked about this capture – I liked the patterns, texture and play of light on the serrated fern leaves.
Canon 5DIII 1/100s f/3.5 ISO400 100mm
In color and in different light, this photo of a palm leaf would convey a very different feeling . . . .
By Scott Shephard
I took this photo as part of an assignment Dennis Newman, photo/media instructor at Lake Area Technical Institute, gave us on a recent field trip to Minneapolis and St. Paul.
I had originally processed this photo in color (see it here) but on a whim decided to see what a black and white process would do to it. And I liked it – primarily because it drew attention to the nature of the assignment, which was “light and lines.”
It occurs to me that photographers are like a movie directors in the way they use light, color and space to convey a mood. In the case of this photo, dark and mysterious is a long way from green and vibrant.
Canon 5DIII 1/80s f/4.5 ISO400 100mm
Soft focus and soft colors combine in this simple photo . . . .
By Scott Shephard
I have been a bit verbose lately. So for those who desire more photos and fewer words, I’ll only say that today I present a pink calla lily which is mostly out of focus. And for more photos from the Como Park Conservatory, where this photo was taken, click here.
Canon 5DIII 1/250s f/3.5 ISO400 100mm
Like yesterday’s tree, one gets a different view of ferns by looking underneath their leaves . . . .
Yesterday, the first year photo/media students and I went on a field trip to Minneapolis and St. Paul. Dennis Newman, the head of the program, accompanied us. The assignment he gave us on our photo shoot at the Como Park Conservatory and Zoo was “lines and light.” And so, when I had free time, I went hunting.
I’m not sure if this photo is what Dennis meant but it’s one of several that I took for the assignment. I’m not sure, frankly, if the photo is “good” or not, because I’m guessing that the casual observer might wonder what this is. So I’ll tell you.
What you are seeing involves an unlikely perspective and a trick of the camera. As I walked through the fern room at the Conservatory, I saw this fern, which was lit by strong sunlight, and I wondered what it looked like from the underside. So I got down on my knees. The trick of the camera is that I shot it at an aperture that would create a clear focal plane, with only the part that was brightly lit being in focus. Without a tripod, this is a challenge and so I took several.
But for now, this is my favorite.
Canon 5DIII 1/800s f/5.0 ISO320 100mm
A beautiful tree and a clear blue sky are two of Nature’s best offerings. . . .
I took more photos of trees while in Maryland last week than anything else, in part because I like to photograph trees and in part because the trees in Maryland are very different than the trees I see in South Dakota.
In the case of this tree, I photographed it from several angles over two days though this one is a favorite of mine because of the amazing reach of the tree and the deep blue sky.
Canon 5DIII 1/100s f/9.0 ISO100 16mm
There is something a bit ironic about this statue in the National Gallery of Art . . . .
My love of art is what eventually lead me to becoming a photographer. A biography about Michelangelo that I read when I was 14 made me want to become a painter. I took oil painting lessons and what I produced was so bad that even my parents wouldn’t display them in our house. Many artists have had to deal with rejection and I guess that builds character. . . Frankly, at that stage in my life, I didn’t know that being good at anything required good coaches/mentors, great patience and thousands of hours of practice.
Later, I picked up a camera and decided that maybe photography was an art I could manage – it demanded a different set of motor skills than a paint brush did. And I continue to practice hard to get better.
So, is the photo in today’s post art? You’ll have to answer that question. I will say that I still love art and when I have the chance to go to one of the world’s best museums – the National Gallery of Art in Washington, DC – I snap it up.
As a candid photographer, I love art museums because watching people interact with art offers many good photo opportunities. I have found that people are so engaged in the art they are looking at that they are oblivious to me and my camera.
In this scene I was actually staging my wife to be in the background but then the man you see walked into the shot. I quietly signaled my wife to step back and captured this statue appearing to be studying the man, who is lost in a work of art.
Canon 5DIII 1/50s f/2.8 ISO800 35mm
Mr. Peabody says, “Sherman, set the WABAC machine for 2002 . . . .”
Wow! When I went looking for something to post for “Flashback Sunday,” I wasn’t looking for this photo – I had totally forgotten that I had taken it. But once I found it, I couldn’t resist sharing it, partly because it comes from my very early days of “serious” digital photography but mostly because of all of the wonderful people in this group. I’m posting this to Facebook to see what kind of ID tagging can be done since I did not record the names of all those who are pictured. (I see one of my favorite WHS Video Club members ever, my very first volunteer portrait subject, two or three of my first paying portrait subjects. And somewhere hidden in this picture is a very prominent Watertown photographer.)
For the technically minded, this picture was taken with the 6 megapixel Canon D60, which was one of the first affordable DSLRs ever produced. It quickly became a dinosaur but I still own it because of so many fond memories captured with it – such as this team photo.
Canon D60 1/60s f/4.0 ISO400 28mm
How is it that a photographer thinks of Bonnie Raitt, Allison Kraus and Macbeth when he ponders this picture? . . . .
I taught Shakespeare’s Macbeth for many years to sophomores in my early days as an English teacher at Watertown Senior High. When i am in or nears woods on evenings like the one pictured here, I can’t help but think of one of Macbeth’s best speeches in the play. As the sun sets on the night he knows his colleague and friend Banquo is to be murdered he says
“Come, seeling night,
Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day
And with thy bloody and invisible hand
Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond
Which keeps me pale. Light thickens, and the crow
Makes wing to th’ rooky wood.
Good things of day begin to droop and drowse;
Whiles night’s black agents to their preys do rouse.”
I sensed no evil and saw no crows on the beautiful Maryland evening I took this photo. There was just the crunch of leaves, the clicking of the shutter and the sound of very distant traffic on highway 50. It was a great night to be wandering about with a camera and tripod.
(And in case you are wondering about Raitt and Krauss, both sang versions of a song entitled “The Dimming of the Day,” which I think is a kind of sad love song. Lyrically and emotionally it does not fit this photo. But it did give the post its title.”
Canon 5DIII 1/13s f/8.0 ISO250 16mm
