Articles – Ming Thein

The relationship between talent, creativity and experience

May 9, 2012 by Ming Thein

Let’s start with some semantics:

Talent: is your innate ability to do something – it’s inborn, and for the purposes of this essay, you can’t change it. It’s fixed. Think of it as your starting point; you also can’t lose it.

Creativity: in the photographic context centers around your ability to construct a unique composition from a given scene. It’s a continuum; the more different your composition to anything that’s come before, the more creative you are. This applies for both the elements you can control (e.g. studio lighting, flashes, focal length/ perspective etc) and the ones you can’t – the subject, for instance. The amount of creativity a person has is generally fixed; however, unlike talent, you can train yourself to be more creative.

Experience: is the knowledge you gain from having done something (or something related and relevant) before – for instance, if you’ve used a fire before, you know it’s hot and you won’t put your hand into it because it hurts. In a photographic context, it could be something as simple as knowing that telephoto lenses work better for wildlife photography than wide angles, or it could be as subtle as choosing a thick carbon-fiber monopod over a thinner steel one for its rigidity and vibration damping properties to enable as low a shutter speed as possible. This is the biggest area of opportunity for all photographers.

It’s easier to understand where I’m going next if you have a baseline: I’ll use myself as a guinea pig, and score out of 10; 10 being the best and 0 being poke-your-eyes-out-with-a-stick bad.

Ming, in 2003 (Brand-new, wet-behind-the-ears hobby photographer. Doesn’t know the first thing about shutter speeds, finds aperture numbering confusing, and can’t figure out the whole perspective thing.) Here’s an early shot:

Random abstract.

At the time, I thought this was actually one of my better ones. Shocking, huh? I think nobody would question an assessment of Talent = 0. Creativity – hmm, harder to judge; it obviously isn’t really a standard shot, but at the same time…execution is lacking. I’ll be generous and say this merits a 5 on the creativity scale. It does tell us something about the experience rating, though: had I known better, I wouldn’t have overexposed, and I’d have used a tripod. I’d probably also have selected a more suitable exposure combination commensurate to the effect I was trying to achieve. Let’s give experience another zero.

Fast forward a bit to today.

Ming, in 2012 (Getty Images member, Nikon Professional Services UK member, Leica Camera-sponsored, veteran of countless pro shoots, etc…I’ll stop blowing my own horn now 😉

Jaeger Le-Coultre Gyrotourbillon 2 escapement

I don’t think anybody would argue that this is an easy shot to produce. It requires advance knowledge and mastery of a) lighting; b) composition and visual balance; c) being able to see the unique in something not immediately visible or obvious (the frame covers approximately 12x8mm); d) post processing; e) familiarity with the subject itself; f) the ability to get one’s equipment to deliver exactly what is required.

So what’s changed in the last nine years? My talent remains the same: it can’t change, and it’s approximately still zero. My creativity has definitely improved; I’m both trying different things and executing them so that they manage to communicate my initial vision – that shot was supposed to give the impression of an x-ray view into the heart of a complex machine, which this particular watch absolutely is.

But the biggest improvement is experience: in the last nine years, I’ve shot more than half a million frames – some in the course of getting the shot for a particular assignment or location; some out of pure experimentation; and some just in the course of capturing and recording life as I see it. But each one of those frames has given me the benefit of being able to refine my skills incrementally more. Although the laws of diminishing returns definitely kicked in a long time ago, I’m told there’s still some progress going on. The way I shoot now is not the same as the way I shot even a year or two ago.

Shooting lots is one thing – but remembering what you’ve learned is even more important, otherwise you’ll hit diminishing returns pretty early on in the process. There are many times where I’ll do experiments concentrating on one particular aim only – for instance, refining my x-ray processing technique – and ignoring the other elements. Or perhaps it might be to master the use of lighting very small reflective objects at close distances. I probably won’t keep any of these experiments because compositionally they don’t work (and that wasn’t the point) – but it’s the experience and knowledge that’s important. And then when I *do* need to put it all together – the above shot, for instance – then I have confidence that my techniques and experience will let me pull it off.

There is no substitute for experience. There’s plenty of evidence to support that it takes 10,000 hours of dedicated practice to master something – give or take a little depending on whether you do it continuously (benefit of not forgetting between sessions and having to backtrack or repeat) and your intellect. This means one task, continuously, for three years or more. And that’s why there were a) so few master photographers in the film days (practice cost a lot of time and money, and there was a delay between taking the shot and getting feedback, during which it was easy to forget what you tried) – and b) lots of ‘new talent’ emerging today.

Which brings us to the conclusion of this article: I’m often asked what is the one best tip I can give to an aspiring photographer: practice, practice, practice. I still do it, and I’m still learning. MT

____________

Visit our Teaching Store to up your photographic game – including Photoshop Workflow DVDs and customized Email School of Photography; or go mobile with the Photography Compendium for iPad. You can also get your gear from B&H and Amazon. Prices are the same as normal, however a small portion of your purchase value is referred back to me. Thanks!

Don’t forget to like us on Facebook and join the reader Flickr group!

Filed Under: Articles, On Photography Tagged With: article, blog.mingthein.com, creativity, experience, ming, ming thein, mingthein.com, philosophy, photography, talent, thein

Some thoughts on storage and backups

April 30, 2012 by Ming Thein

What are your images worth to you? And by worth I don’t necessarily mean in a financial sense; how would you feel if your primary hard drive toasted itself and you lost most or all of your images today? What would you do? Personal and family images would be be irrecoverable and gone forever. Your stock library would suddenly cease to exist. No more portfolios. Images that you hadn’t finished editing and obviously not yet delivered to clients…imagine having to ask for a re-shoot.

Clearly, backup is important. Very important. Currently, the weakest link is in the camera at the time of capture: most cameras only have a single card slot, which means only one copy of the image at any one time. Even those that have dual card slots and allow parallel writing (best configured to mirror to give optimal flexibility) create issues when browsing, deleting and otherwise managing files in camera – it isn’t seamless or intuitive, and the limitations of a button driven graphical UI make file handling less straightforward and easy that on a PC. And even if you mirror your files to both cards, if your camera happens to suffer say impact damage or a moisture-induced short, you can probably say goodbye to both cards. Incremental backup to a PC on site either via an Eye-Fi card, WLAN or tethering is an option, but can be time consuming and downright impractical if you’re a photojournalist.

My current workflow is still subject to this limitation:
– I shoot as normal, and backup to a computer as soon as I’m done with the shoot.
– I won’t format the cards until everything is backed up, which means that I have two copies of the files at any time (and yes, I have a lot of cards – SD: 3x32GB, 5x16GB, various odds and ends; CF: 2x16GB, 3x8GB, 3x4GB – it’s a lot considering I’m only dealing with 14MB per RAW file on my sole CF camera (D700).)
– At incremental stages – usually every hour or so when editing – I’ll run a time machine backup of my working machine’s drive, which gives me a third copy of the original files, and a second copy of the edited files.
– Hard drives are kept disconnected from the computer and power supply to prevent any accidental data corruption due to surges, odd software glitches etc.
– Once I’m done with the processing and editing, I make duplicate backups of all files onto a pair of hard drives.
– Time machine the main editing machine again – now I’ve got four copies of the finished files, and five copies of the original files. Still with me?
– I don’t keep the original files on my main editing machine because of space limitations, but I do keep the finished files.
– Now I can format the cards from the shoot – this leaves me with four copies of finished files, and two copies of the originals.
– You want to maximize redundancy and failure-proofing with your backups, so keeping one full set of files off-site is a good idea. It’s also nice because you can easily access your work if you’re not in the office. Both of the backup hard drives and the time machine drive I currently use are 1TB portables; they require no external power supply and are small enough to go anywhere. One stays in my bag, which is almost always with me.
– There’s yet another copy of my portfolio files and critical image files on my travel machine (a Macbook Air) and iPad, making six sets for critical files. I’m fairly confident with this setup that I’ll be able to find an image if I need to, even if two or more drives fail. (And that’s not counting the drives that I’ve archived, which I’ll touch on in a minute.)

Now you’re probably wondering what happens if my backup solutions run out of space – after all, these days 1TB isn’t that much, and the minute you touch video work (a whole new kettle of fish) then the storage requirements multiply exponentially.

Fortunately, the pace of file size increases has also roughly matched then pace of both increases in storage density and processing speed (score one for Moore’s Law). I double the size of the replacement drives I buy – usually one every year and a half to two years or so – and find that gives me enough breathing room. When the new drives are in, I’ll make a fresh copy of all the files (NOT using a cloning tool, because that can also clone over any errors and bad sectors the old drive has – negating some of the advantage of fresh drives) onto my new, larger drives.

I recently had my time machine drive fail; that, culminated with a general lack of space (only 50GB left and plenty of those enormous D800 raw files) made me upgrade to one of these array thingies. I’ve got a WD MyBoook Studio II 6TB array, which is set to RAID 1 (mirroring) and partitioned into a 1TB block for my time machine backups, and a 2TB block for storage. Firewire 800 is thankfully supported, which makes moving huge files around quite painless. I’ll probably add one of the new WD portable 2TB Firewire/ USB3 drives to replace my portable 1TB so I can keep an offsite backup of my work on me (and a handy archive) wherever I go.

Backup is something everybody needs to think about seriously, today. Tomorrow may well be too late – there have been several occasions where I’m glad I was running multiple backups; unluckily I had a Maxtor primary drive and a Maxtor backup drive fail within a day of each other – leaving me with just a single (fortunately non-Maxtor, those things are a disaster) drive. If you can’t afford to lose your images, don’t put it off! MT

Filed Under: Articles, Gearhead: Reviews Tagged With: backup, ming, ming thein, mingthein.com, storage, thein, workflow

Stabilization systems and their limitations

April 28, 2012 by Ming Thein

Image stabilization systems are all meant to do one thing: reduce the effects of camera shake to prevent you from getting blurry images. If you know that, and know their limitations, you’ll find them very useful; if not, you’ll wonder why you can’t get a sharp picture of a racing car even though you’ve got an IS lens.

Rule 1: Stabilization systems are not a replacement for proper technique or support.
If you have good hand-holding technique or a tripod, you can always get a sharp image at shutter speeds below the 1/focal length threshold. No issue. If you don’t, then a stabilizer will help a bit, but it can’t prevent your finger from jerking when you press the button – that’s training. You can’t use a stabilizer for a long exposure, either. There’ll still be camera motion because it’s physically impossible for a person to stand that still. Lean the camera against something or get a tripod. It will help you when you’re shooting from an unstable platform – such as a boat or moving vehicle – but make sure you disable the lens’ panning mode to prevent it from canceling out motion in one direction only, believing it to be panning rather than irregular camera movement.

Rule 2: Stabilization systems will not affect subject motion.
The stabilizer is in the lens, or on the sensor. Either way, it’s attached to your camera. Not the subject. But you’d be surprised how many people think that VR or IS or OSS or SSS or whatever will also keep the bird still for you to get the shot. It won’t. Your subject is still bound by the same minimum shutter speed rules as all other subjects: about 1/30s-1/60s for people, 1/500s for human action sports, 1/1000s for motorsport, and somewhere between the two for animals.

Rule 3: Stabilization systems have an optimal window of shutter speeds.
Generally, if the manufacturer claims an X number of stops improvement, then deduct one and use that as a rule of thumb. So if a lens offers four stops, then your lowest shutter speed is going to be 1/focal length x (1/2)^(X-1). Confused? Example: 100mm lens with 4-stop stabilizer. Don’t expect sharp shots any slower than 1/100s x (1/2)^(4-1) – that’s somewhere between 1/10s and 1/15s.

What they don’t tell you is that there’s an upper limit to stabilizer effectiveness, too. Above a certain shutter speed, the stabilizer mechanism can’t respond fast enough – so you’re actually going to get a bit of smearing or double imaging. In general, I’d turn it off above 1/500s or so.

Rule 4: Not all stabilizers are created equal.
There are three types of stabilization: lens-based, which has a moving element controlled by two or more gyroscopes; sensor-based, which moves the sensor through lateral translation axes, and in the newest generation of cameras, also yaw, pitch and roll axes; and finally, electronic systems that use software-based image subtraction and have no moving parts at all. The least effective are electronic stabilizers – they are effectively useless, and worse still, leave behind odd image artifacts. Lens-based stabilizers are generally more effective than sensor-based stabilizers. This is because the moving lens element is generally at the nodal point of the lens, and only has to tilt in the opposite direction to compensate for relative camera motion; it can compensate for a greater degree of camera shake than a sensor based system, because the sensor has to move through the actual distance the image is displaced by on the focal plane; this means that sensor-shift systems get less and less effective as the focal length increases.

Rule 5: Turn off the stabilizer when using a tripod.
Stabilizers, by definition, use moving parts. The problem here is that when everything is locked down and not moving – i.e. a tripod-based scenario – the moving parts can’t stay perfectly still, unless they’re locked in place – i.e. the stabilizer is turned off. Even the systems which are claimed to be able to detect tripod mode don’t physically lock down unless turned off manually.

Rule 6: Stabilizers always cause some sort of image degradation.
This is unavoidable; to deliver optimal results, the optical formula must be precisely matched by the physical configuration of the lenses. Fine manufacturing tolerances and errors are enough to cause subpar performance; imagine what a moving element does to that mix. Conclusion: turn it off, lock it down, and use a tripod if utmost image quality is your objective.

Beware of the limitations, but also know that stabilization systems can give you a little edge when it comes to unique images – the best example I can think of is when you want static buildings but a little motion blur in the people to convey a sense of activity; throw in a longer focal length and it’s not really something you can produce without a tripod (often inconvenient, or downright disallowed). Another example is where you’re shooting wildlife with a monopod at dawn or dusk; light is marginal and you’re not using a tripod for maximum flexibility, but you need a little more latitude with shutter speed to keep the quality up. It’s situations like this where stabilizers shine. MT

Filed Under: Articles, Gearhead: Reviews Tagged With: gearhead, ming, ming thein, mingthein.com, stabilization, thein

Zone focusing and shooting hyperfocal

April 24, 2012 by Ming Thein

Hyperfocal shooting is a subset of zone focusing. Both are very, very useful tools in the arsenal of a photojournalist or street photographer; especially so if you’re using a manual focus lens, or one with a meaningful depth of field scale engraved on it. It means that if you know what distance your subject has to be at to fill your frame correctly, you can set that and just shoot straight away when you bring the camera to your eye – a very fast way of working. It’s what I usually do when I have enough light and a wide lens on my Leica.

Let’s start with zone focusing. It’s simple if your lens has a depth of field scale:
1. Pick an aperture
2. Find the depth of field scale markings corresponding to that aperture. They’re on the bit of the lens that doesn’t rotate.
3. There are two of them. Everything between those two marks will be inn acceptable focus. Why the hesitation around ‘acceptable’? Because sharp-at-the-100%-pixel-level defines acceptable focus, and that will vary from camera to camera – the higher your pixel density, the narrower the acceptable focus margin will be. You’ll have to experiment for your camera and find out how much (if anything) to compensate by – for some cameras, you might find you have to as much as halve the width of the gap between the two markings.

Leica 21/1.4 Summilux-M ASPH.

Example: in the image below, the lens is focused just after 1.5m. This means the sharpest point will be at 1.5m, but if we set f2.8, objects from 1.2m to a bit over 2m will be in focus. Selecting f5.6 expands this further to 1m to 5m.

A good rule of thumb is 1/3-2/3: one third of your DOF will be in front of the focus distance, and 2/3rds behind.

Simple, right? There are a few more things to know.
1. It works best for wide-angle lenses, because they have more DOF for a given aperture. (You could zone focus with a telephoto, but you’d need a silly small aperture and probably run out of light).
2. It works best during daytime, because you’ll have enough light to stop down a bit (and thus increase your margin for error).
3. It works best if you have some practice estimating distances, because you can adjust on the fly without having to bring the camera to your eye.
4. It works best with smaller sensor cameras, because again there’s more DOF for a given angle of view (focal length equivalent) and aperture – for instance, the Ricoh GR-Digital III has a ‘snap’ mode that sets focus to certain distance; at f2.8 and 1.5m, almost everything will be in focus from 0.75cm onwards or so.
5. You can’t do it easily with modern AF lenses – those which do have DOF scales usually only give f11 and f22, which are heavily restricted by the amount of light you’ve got to work with; then the distance scale itself is short and probably not very precise, with few distances marked; lastly, there isn’t enough precision in the focusing ring. You could do it by using the AF system to focus on a distance, switch to MF, and set your aperture – but you’d have to memorize your DOF tables, which is never easy or fun.
6. Some compacts are better than others for this than others; the best kind have manual focus with a DOF indicator bar and scale – the Leica X1 and Ricoh GR-Digital series come to mind.

Let’s move on to hyper focal. The hyper focal distance is the setting beyond which everything is in focus to infinity at a given aperture. Even super-shallow DOF lenses like the Noctilux 0.95 have a hyper focal distance – but it’s probably 50m or something at f0.95. Once again, the wider the lens, the nearer the hyper focal distance will be for a given aperture. With lenses in the 28mm range, you can work at a reasonable aperture of f8 or so and have hyper focal distance at about 3m on a full frame sensor, which is great for capturing spontaneous moments in photojournalism or street photography.

There are several very useful calculators online, such as DOF Master – playing around with this will give you a good idea of which of your camera/ lens combinations is best suited to zone focusing. I personally do it with my Leica M9-P, and sometimes with the Ricoh GR-Digital; but never with the DSLRs because AF is very nearly as fast, especially on the D700. Also, beware lenses like the Olympus ZD 12/2 for micro four thirds – it might look like it has distance and DOF scales, but the focusing ring is electronically coupled, and lacks the resolution to make it truly useful. MT

Filed Under: Articles, On Photography Tagged With: article, how to, hyperfocal, ming, ming thein, mingthein.com, photography, thein, zone focusing

Workflow

April 22, 2012 by Ming Thein

I get two questions regularly:

1. “What camera should I buy, or should I buy X or Y?”
2. “I have the same equipment as you. How do you make your images look the way they do? Why can’t I do it?”

I’m not going to address the first question here. As for the second question, there are two answers and one fundamental underlying question: assuming the problem isn’t with your composition, what is it about your workflow that creates that very visible difference in the final image?

Workflow is very important to professionals, because if you’ve got a very high image throughput, then you can take on more work, deliver better quality images to your clients, and at the end of the day, make more money. So it’s in our interests to be as efficient as possible, without sacrificing quality. Good workflow should have the absolute minimum number of steps, be fast and easy to execute, automated to the greatest extent possible (but recognizing that individual images are like children: you have to treat each one differently) and most importantly, be camera independent. The latter requirement is so that you are free to use the best tool for the job without worrying about what to do with the files later. There’s no getting around the fact that different cameras and lenses require different amounts of editing or correction to achieve the desired results; it’s just something that has to be built into your process.

A common misconception is that workflow just covers the post-shoot editing process: it doesn’t. Workflow affects the entire way you execute an assignment, from preparation to final image delivery. What follows is a high level overview of the way I work, and some of the key steps.

1. Prep
– Make a list of equipment you’re going to need.
– Charge batteries, and bring 2x the number you think you’ll need – s*** happens.
– Ensure you have spares: cards, batteries, flashes, bodies, RF calibration spanners…
– Unless you’re shooting a run-and-gun stealth photojournalist assignment, or are going to be carrying your equipment for long periods of time, take everything you think you might need. Better to have it and not use it rather than miss a shot for want of a lens.
– Pack with plenty of time to spare, in case you find you’re missing something or can’t decide which configuration to use – at least you’ve got time to think it over or go out and buy anything critical that’s missing.

2. Shoot
– Turn up early so you can set up (if required) and be relaxed. Nervousness means jumpy hands which means blurred images.
– I always shoot RAW, for maximum latitude later when processing.
– Write-protect your keepers in camera to prevent accidental deletion.
– Shoot bursts where possible, both to get duplicates (insurance) and a choice of material to work with later.

3. First edit
– Delete the ‘obvious fail’ shots in camera when you have downtime – but ONLY when you have downtime. Missing a shot because you were staring at the back of your camera is an amateur’s mistake. I’ll probably dump about 50% of the images at this point.

4. Post-shoot
– Unpack
– Clean equipment – lenses, filters, eyepieces, LCDs etc.
– Recharge any depleted batteries
– Put everything back where it came from, so you can find it again next time.

5. Dump cards
– I will dump all cards to my primary processing machine at this point, and leave the cards unformatted back in the camera – just in case a file gets corrupted or I need the original, I know it’s still there.

6. Backup
– I use a Mac. At this point, I’ll run a time machine backup on my primary processing machine.

7. Second edit
– Delete the images that don’t really work at larger sizes – see my previous article here on editing. I use Adobe Bridge to delete and rate images. Another 50% of the images will go.

8. RAW conversion
– Depending on your machine, figure out how many RAW files you can open before it starts to slow down (use the ‘efficiency’ display in Photoshop; it’s in the bottom left of your image window. 100% means that everything is being loaded to RAM, which is the fastest way of editing). I can open about 15 12MP files in 16 bit before things start to slow down. This means I’ll probably load 20-30, because I also delete some at this point.
– Load bunch of files (20-30) into Camera Raw.
– Make primary exposure adjustments; I will adjust white balance, exposure, shadow/ highlight recovery sliders, vignetting.
– I only crop to aspect ratios that are non-native for my camera. If I’m using a multi-aspect ratio camera like the Leica D-Lux 5, I won’t crop at all.
– I have created a color profile for each camera I use so that I can get consistent color and the same look out of any camera I use, this is applied to the raw file in ACR.
– And same for the tonal response curve.
– Open the files in Photoshop (I’m using CS5.5 Extended now) at maximum quality: 16bit, full resolution.
– B&W conversion: depending on what final look I want, there are many options: gradient map, desaturate, channel mixer…to be the subject of a future article.
– Make curve adjustments – sometimes up to four or five times.
– Any retouching is done at this point – e.g. dust removal for product shots, or color enhancement using brushes and masks. I use a Wacom Intuos4 6×9″ tablet for this, nothing else so far gives me enough fine control.
– Local dodge and burn where applicable.
– Finally, sharpening: do this last, so you don’t land up increasing image noise/ grain. Must be done after curves.
– Convert to 8 bit and desired color space.
– Save final file. I generally use a maximum quality JPEG unless the client demands otherwise; you really can’t tell the difference unless you’re going to do future manipulation on it. (Revisiting old files will be the subject of another future article).
– Optional: do an incremental backup again, if it’s a big conversion job you can’t finish at one sitting, or if each file is time consuming and will take a lot of effort to duplicate.

9. Final edit
– Go through the set again. Keep only the unique, essential images. By the time I’m done, I keep only 1-5% of the initial shoot volume.

10. Portfolio selection
– I keep a portfolio of images for the subjects I commonly shoot; this gets updated after every shoot, especially if I feel there are images that should be added. It’s my aim to have at least one image to add to the portfolio (and replace an old one) from each assignment; this way, I force myself to continually improve.

11. Backup and format
– Dual duplicate sets of images with all raw files to external hard drives, one of which is kept offsite
– Keep finished files only on main processing machine
– Final backup: time machine of main processing machine
– Only now will I format cards. Where possible, I keep at least two copies of the original files – just in case something goes wrong. It’s happened to me in the past, and I’ve been very, very grateful that I did remember to backup. I’ve been doing it religiously ever since, and highly recommend you do the same.

A note on filing: I store images in hierarchal folders by Subject>Event/date>Subset. This allows me to find things easily. I have a separate folder for work on assignment, which is named with something sensible and a date. I don’t like database-based programs for image management like Aperture, because it’s very difficult and unwieldy to manage if you have a lot of images.

12. Delivery
– Send off the images to clients; either over the web, or via DVD.

Now, repeat! MT

Filed Under: Articles, On Photography Tagged With: editing, how to, ming, ming thein, mingthein.com, photoshop, thein, workflow

The process of editing

April 20, 2012 by Ming Thein

Let me clarify: by editing, I mean the process of selecting which images to keep, which make the final cut, and which aren’t wroth bothering with. I’ll generally do three edits: one almost immediately after shooting, in-camera; one when I get home and dump the cards/ start converting raw files; and the final cut after I’m done making finished files, but before I archive or deliver complete sets to clients.

As an example, let’s take the contact sheet I used in an earlier article on how to use contact sheets. For the purposes of this exercise, assume that this set is one that came fresh out of the camera (in reality, it’s already been through the complete selection process, and no, I don’t shoot jpeg unless I have no other choice.)

First cut (in camera)
I’ll delete images which are:
– Clearly out of focus
– Incorrectly exposed
– Compositional failures/ experiments that didn’t work
– Clearly meaningless/ no obvious subject
I’ll leave duplicates or near-duplicates of good shots; you can’t judge fine detail or critical focus off the back of a camera screen.

For the example, I’ve already taken out the first cut in camera, so let’s move on.

Second cut (before raw conversion)
I’ll delete images which are:
– Not critically sharp
– Didn’t work as well as expected when viewed at a reasonable size (full screen, usually)
– Compositionally weaker than the rest of the set
At this point, I also pick the best image if there are a series of duplicates or near-duplicates. (Duplication is something I do where possible to give me the best possible selection of raw material to work with.)

Final cut (before delivery)
– Eliminate similar images, so that what you’re left with is a series of individually very strong photos, each with a clearly different character
– Chose only the best X images, where X is your delivery target/ agreement

Final cut. Notice how each image in the final set is distinctly different from the other, yet I haven’t ‘lost’ any critical shots, and manage to capture the essence of the movement of the watch.

I’ll leave you with one final thought: the mark of a truly good photographer is not how many good shots he produces, but rather how many good shots the audience remembers: if you only show good shots, nobody is going to think you’re capable of producing a dud. Furthermore, if you aren’t your own harshest critic, your skill level is never going to improve. This is why editing is so crucial to the entire photographic process; I force myself to keep only the best 1-2% of everything I shoot. MT

Filed Under: Articles, On Photography Tagged With: editing, how to, ming, ming thein, mingthein.com, philosophy, photography, thein

Looking at images

April 18, 2012 by Ming Thein

“I don’t need to be told how to look at an image! I just walk up to it and use my eyes.”

That’s what most of you are probably thinking, right?

Wrong.

There are a few simple things you can do when viewing a photograph – or an image of any sort – to get the most out of it; both from a personal opportunity to learn as a photographer, as well as to ensure you understand exactly what it is the creator of the image intended to convey.

Reflections. Prague. Leica M9-P, 28/2.8 ASPH

1. Composition
What is the subject? In any good image, this should be obvious. If you can’t tell what it is immediately, either look again (and think about the image – sometimes it’s the image itself, if an abstract composition, for instance) or consider the possibility that it’s just a weak image. Is the composition balanced? Does it feel right? Is there something about the layout of elements in the frame that bothers you – either in a deliberately provocative (i.e. good because it makes you think or suggests something) way, or a bad (it’s distracting) way? How could it have been improved (e.g. were things cut out of the frame due to poor camera placement?). What’s the lighting like? Does it create a strong sense of mood, or emotion? Most importantly: does the picture draw you into the scene and make you feel like you are there just by looking at it?

Retirement. Patan Durbar Fire Station, Kathmandu, Nepal. Nikon D700, 24/1.4

2. Metaphors, allegories and tricks
A good example of this is your stereotypical beggar-against-a-luxury-goods-store contrast. What other compositional and subject-based tools has the photographer used to make you stay that little bit longer to consider the content of the image? Does it make you think? Sometimes the contrasts can be obvious, such as the previous example. Use of reflections or inversions are another example. Inclusion of the photographer in the frame, as a conscious observer. Multiple exposures, allusions to popular culture, folk lore, etc. Chronological progression or development in a single frame. At other times, it can be greater than that and more complicated – a story in a frame.

Letting sleeping dogs lie. Kathmandu, Nepal. Nikon D700, 24/1.4

3. Context
Often, images aren’t strong enough to stand alone. This isn’t a bad thing, because it may not be possible to get a single frame that conveys the entire story for whatever reason. This is where the context of the image becomes important – where is it placed (consider advertising, as an example)? What is the accompanying text? Are there other images that accompany it in sequence that frame it? Most importantly, is the image stronger with the accompanying material, or would it be better on its own?

Soldiers enforcing martial law. The outskirts of Kathmandu, Nepal. Nikon D700, 24/1.4

4. Technical details
To help the photographer tell the story, there are a whole battery of techniques that can be used – extreme perspectives, HDR, long exposures, shallow DOF, etc. How well were they used? A good litmus test is whether you notice the technique first, or the subject and content of the image first: if the image just screams ‘HDR’ because of overlapping tonal zones, then it’s probably not a good photograph. However, if the composition wows you first, and then only you notice it must have been shot with a small sensor camera because of the perspective and extended depth of field, that’s a good thing. Equipment and techniques are tools, not the subject. It’s often difficult to create an image that doesn’t bear the signature of the tool used to create it – for instance, the perspective created by a fisheye lens or anything shot with the Leica 50/1 screams ‘Noctilux!’ because of the swirly bokeh. It’s a personal choice, because the specific property of the tool can be used to create a stronger image (for instance, the fantastically smooth rendition of out-of-focus areas in front of the subject delivered by the Zeiss ZF 85/1.4 Planar) – you just have to be careful not to overdo it.

The hardest part of this process is to apply it as a filter to your own work; that will be the subject of a future article. MT

Internal complexity. A. Lange & Sohne Datograph, two images. Nikon D700, 60/2.8 AFS macro

Filed Under: Articles, On Photography Tagged With: looking at images, ming, ming thein, mingthein.com, photography, thein

Contact sheets, and how to use them

April 16, 2012 by Ming Thein

This article is a lead on from my earlier review of the Magnum Contact Sheets book.

Contact sheets are a tool that date from the days of film: basically, the developed negatives are laid out directly on top of photographic printing paper, exposed for the appropriate duration, and fixed. They aren’t ‘proper’ prints per se, but a provide the photographer and editor a quick way of looking at all of the images in a sequence at once.

A printed (or from negatives) contact sheet would probably look something like this.

The photographer would then mark out his first and second cut images, followed by the verification from the editor; the chosen images would then be printed properly from the original negatives, with any tweaks required (such as dodging and burning, increasing exposure, changing print density etc.) With the analog photography process, that marked the end of the line for the photographer unless they also did their own printing – which was rare.

Interestingly, contact sheets were considered something of a luxury item for photographers because of the cost of producing them – especially when there were a lot of rolls of film to go through – most photographers just used a loupe and light table, or if desperate, held the negatives up to a window.

Contact sheets still remain a useful tool, not just because they allow you to see all images at once and judge their relative merits, but also because they force you to look at the distilled essence of an image: if a shot makes a compelling thumbnail, it’s generally also quite powerful at larger sizes. However, the reverse isn’t true: some shots need to be printed large to work well, landscapes, for instance. With images like this, contact sheets aren’t necessarily the best tool (unless you’re shooting medium format, or have larger thumbnails to work with).

Not shooting film? Don’t worry. We can still do the same thing today in the digital world. Photoshop itself has an automated tool (File>Automate>Contact Sheet) to create contact sheets of images; these are useful to print or send to clients. Alternatively, programs such as Bridge and Lightroom effectively let you create digital contact sheets which you can interact with on the fly:

Today’s contact sheet: screenshot of Adobe Bridge, thumbnail view.

What these programs let you do is a) see everything at once; b) see only the ones you wanted; c) use a magnifying loupe to check sharpness on a particular image or several images to compare; d) here’s the important bit: rate images. With Bridge and LR, Command-[number] lets you tag a star rating from 1-5; later on, you can filter by images rated at a certain level or above. And it works for raw files too, so long as the camera is supported by Adobe Camera Raw.

My current process is to keep all images from a shoot (except the obvious duds or unsuccessful experiments, which I bin in camera) and then conduct a first pass edit using the contact sheet view as soon as they’re in the computer – I’ll rate my images 3, 4 and 5*; 3* are kept because they’re useful for stock or remembering a particular event; 4* are good images and deliverable to clients; 5* are portfolio grade, best-of. The rest aren’t worth keeping and get binned. I’ll work on the 5* images first, and go down the quality ladder from there. That way, my best images are immediately ready to go, and if I don’t get a chance to make a final file (analogous to printing) of the 3*s, I can always come back later.

As photographers, we often fall into the trap of either being overcritical (bin all) or sentimental (bin none) – neither approach is good. For personal work, using contact sheets helps you to edit and see what worked and what didn’t (and by combination, what ideas might work in future if combined). On assignment, it lets you see the relative merits of each image and ensure that you’re only turning in the very best. Contact sheets are a powerful tool to help you achieve this – and the cost of printing is no longer really an excuse. MT

Look out for a future article on Editing: how to select images.

Filed Under: Articles, On Photography Tagged With: contact sheets, how to, ming, ming thein, mingthein.com, photography, thein

Professional photography with compact cameras

April 12, 2012 by Ming Thein

Regent Square architecture, London. Ricoh GR-Digital III

The title of this article isn’t a contradiction: I did really just suggest shooting for clients, for money, with a compact camera. I’m not talking about compact system cameras or ILCs like Micro Four Thirds; those have recently come of age and are very, very competent indeed – in fact, for most purposes, they produce indistinguishable final results (think print, or web, rather than pixel-peeping at 400% on a perfectly calibrated monitor) from larger cameras if used within their limits.

GuB Marine Chronometer. Ricoh GR-Digital III

The reality is that while the big guns have been steadily improving, and have almost all surpassed the image quality level any professional photographer may require, there have been steady improvements in compact cameras (fixed lens, small sensor) too. It’s often not clear which arm of sensor development leads which: the desire for lower noise and improved photosite efficiency has undoubtedly helped improve dynamic range and noise properties of larger sensors. And vice versa, development of CMOS technology for larger sensors is slowly finding its way into point and shoots.

Gas Malaysia. Ricoh GR-Digital III

What does this mean? In the real world, my clients almost never have final uses for the images that require more than 12MP when properly shot and composed (i.e. not heavily cropped). We can delude ourselves into thinking more is better – all else equal, it usually is – but most of the time, it makes no difference. Even if you’re doing a billboard, you don’t need medium format – I’ve done a couple with the mere 4MP Nikon D2H – simply because the individual pixels are about the size of golf balls, but nobody notices because you never get any closer than 20 meters.

Selfridges, London. Ricoh GR-Digital III

I recently shot some wildlife images for the local Malaysian launch for the Leica V-LUX 3 (a full review is here on the official Leica Blog). The spec is ambitious: a fixed 24-600mm lens,12MP, and full resolution images to ISO 3200. Did I mention the sensor was just 1/2.33” in size? It doesn’t get much smaller in the compact realm; there’s 1/2.5”, 1/3”, and then you’re into cellphone sensors.

Scarlet Ibis. Leica V-Lux 3

In any case, the images were printed to at least 20×30”, and in some cases, larger. I even used ISO 400 (base of 100) and very dodgy shutter speeds for some of them. Was the color odd? Did they look grainy and horrible? Not one single bit, even with your nose pressed up to the print. I shot raw and did zero noise reduction – zero. Would they pass for fine art, let alone commercial use? Absolutely. In fact, the results were on par with the Nikon D200 and it’s APSC sensor that I used for the same kind of thing about five or so years ago.

Leica Visoflex III on M9-P. Leica V-Lux 3

I did some other testing with that camera, too: studio product work with flash. Here, the result was even more difficult to distinguish from a larger sensor camera – at base ISO, controlled lighting and optimal apertures, everything looks superb even to the pixel level. In fact, possibly better, because to achieve the same depth of field in the final image, I’d have to stop down so far on a full frame camera that I’d be incurring a softness penalty due to diffraction.

Tulip staircase, Queen’s House, Greenwich. Ricoh GR-Digital III

So what about putting my money where my mouth is? I have already. There are photos I submitted to Getty Images – which were shot with an iPhone 4 (5MP) – and accepted. I swear the file quality is fine for A3+ prints, so long as you’re shooting at base ISO and watch exposure carefully – I’ve tried. I recently shot another job (to be the subject of a future On Assignment article) with another compact – the Leica D-LUX 5. Yes, it has a slightly larger sensor, and I was using LED light panels, but the result was successful: the client (and I) would not have been any happier had I used a larger camera.

KL Drift. Ricoh GR-Digital III

We all know Alex Majoli made his name shooting with compacts – famously half a dozen Olympuses C5060s – because of their silence, unobtrusiveness and low replacement cost, especially important in combat or hostile environments. (I’m told he uses an M9-P now, though.)

Welders; Hommage a Majoli. Ricoh GR-Digital I

I should probably talk a bit about the situations in which a compact would be more useful than a larger DSLR or even ILC:

1. When size or weight is a priority. I haven’t done it (and probably never will) – but I wouldn’t want to climb Everest with a Nikon D4 and suitable lenses. There’s plenty of light, so I’d probably go with one of the more robust compacts.

Shipyard inspection. Ricoh GR-Digital I

2. When you don’t want to stand out. Sensitive or covert photojournalism/ documentary photography immediately springs to mind. Nobody is going to pay you a second thought or glance if you’re ‘just shooting with your cellphone’ – everybody else is doing it, so you just blend in. Compacts are pretty much socially acceptable and transparent in most situations; if you’re not 100% sure of that, adopt the shooting pose of a complete photographic ignoramus and you’ll soon see what I mean.

Nepalis protesting in London. Ricoh GR-Digital III

3. When there’s a lot of light. This sounds stupid: it’s not, because you’re going to have a to stop down a DSLR in the tropics if you’re shooting in bright sunlight; I’ve hit the 1/8000s limit even at f4 or f5.6 and base ISO before – especially with anything even slightly reflective, like water or glass. Short of using a grad ND so you can open up the aperture a bit more, you’re going to land up having to stop down anyway. And guess what: compositionally, there’s no longer any difference between the images cameras of a different sensor size produce. (Dynamic range is something else entirely).

Tea time. Ricoh GR-Digital III

4. When you need extended depth of field. There are compositions that only work with compact cameras precisely because everything is in focus – something which may be optically impossible with an SLR, especially if you need a telephoto perspective. You’re probably wondering why I don’t use one for macrophotography: simple, nobody makes something that delivers the right perspective, and since you can’t change lenses, there’s not a lot I can do to rectify that. Secondary optics and adaptors are an option, but then you’re going to be getting compromised image quality because you’re adding components to an optical system that’s optimized for something else.

Trees. Ricoh GR-Digital III

5. When you want a different look. There are times when the harsher, higher contrast look that’s a property of smaller photosite sensors (specifically: lower dynamic range, because the electron wells are physically smaller and can’t collect as many photons before reaching full charge capacity and overflowing – i.e. blowing out or saturating). If you’re shooting in bright daylight, this could look like exposing for the shadows and completely losing the highlights to white; or exposing for the highlights and leaving the shadows dark (or even black). The latter produces some very arresting black and white work, actually. Or if you’re totally masochistic, perhaps you like the look of massive chroma and luminance noise.

Croissants a Poilane. Canon SD780 IS

The one final piece of advice I suggest is that you talk to your clients beforehand to make sure they’re okay with you using a small camera: very often, it’s about perception rather than reality; your client may not be aware that you can deliver the same image quality or unique images through your choice of equipment – it may negatively affect your reputation. Most importantly, make sure you have enough practice and confidence that you can actually deliver what you claim with your compact – don’t experiment on paid work, unless it’s B-roll. And as ever, always carry a backup. MT

____________

Don’t forget to like us on Facebook and join the reader Flickr group!

Filed Under: Articles, Gearhead: Reviews, On Photography Tagged With: article, compact, ming, ming thein, mingthein.com, opinion, photography, professional, thein

Finding inspiration, or the lack of it

April 10, 2012 by Ming Thein

We’re all familiar with the feeling: sometimes you go to a place or an event and there’s just no end to the photographic opportunities you see. At other times, life is an artistic desert: there’s just nothing inspiring you to shoot at all, and all subjects are too familiar, too uninteresting, or just plain flat and boring.

Shadow crossing. Leica M9-P, 35/1.4 ASPH FLE

I thought of the idea for this article on a recent business trip to Bangkok (last month). Ostensibly, I was there for a conference but did have some down time between sessions, some of which was spent socializing with my group, some of which was spent trying to shoot.

Untitled. Leica M9-P, 35/1.4 ASPH FLE

Bangkok is familiar ground for me. I worked there (in something non-photographic) for just over a year in 2006, right up until the first round of protests against the government. The photojournalist in me wishes I’d been stationed there during the action, but the rest of me is happy that I didn’t have to do my day job with everything severely disrupted. During that year, I did find things to shoot, but looking back I realize that most of it was social – there was very little documentary photography or travel photojournalism going on.

More traffic. Leica M9-P, 35/1.4 ASPH FLE

I put that down to two things: it really isn’t a city made for walking; it’s too big, for one; the climate is too hot to spend much time outdoors, for two; and the public spaces are predominantly malls and shopping complexes, with the exception of the 500 various temples and shrines that dot the city. It’s also a concrete jungle, with overpasses and highways and monorail lines arcing high overhead even downtown. Unlike Tokyo, where there’s plenty of money left over for beautification, there is nothing of the sort in Bangkok – anything new becomes grey and grimy and coated with a layer of urban dust after not much time at all.

Concrete jungle. Leica M9-P, 35/1.4 ASPH FLE

The upshot of all this is that when walking, you feel like you’re in some sort of canyon – everybody who can afford to, drives. And there’s not really a lot of things you can do with people in cars, or trying to shoot from cars – except perhaps traffic.

Interesting light, and yet more traffic. Leica M9-P, 35/1.4 ASPH FLE

There is of course the adult entertainment industry, which does advertise on the streets (even if the transactions take place behind closed doors) – but that’s not something advisable to shoot casually, or without a local guide. I was told by a reliable source that there are a lot of underworld figures involved, and they don’t take too kindly to the seedier aspects of their business being documented. It is not something that interests me, in any case.

The relentless pace of progress. Leica M9-P, 35/1.4 ASPH FLE

So we return to the initial point of this article: there will be times when you’re stuck in a photographic or inspirational desert; it happens. But what can you do to get out of it?

The monk. I was in Chinatown for this one; off my normal circuit but good enough to get something different. 2006. Nikon D2H, 80-200/2.8

1. The obvious thing to do would be to change location.

2. If you can’t do that, look specifically for things within your location that do interest you – I landed up doing a lot of abstract geometry and architecture – Bangkok does really have some nice buildings.

3. Change something in the mechanics of how you shoot: in other words, run an experiment. Reality is that something different will increase your chances of wanting to get out and shoot – it could be forcing yourself to work with maximal or minimal depth of field; getting a new piece of equipment, or using one that’s been neglected for a while; or simply trying to replicate a different style or trying a new idea. It’s because it forces you to change the way you perceive the world (or the world through the viewfinder) – which in turn makes you have to consciously focus on looking for shots or adjusting your composition to make it work; you can’t just run on autopilot anymore.

Zap. Through the office windows, long exposure. 2006. Nikon D80, 17-55/2.8

And this is where a modicum of self-reflection and assessment is useful: I didn’t change anything, but in hindsight I realized I should have, which is the genesis of this article. I did initially go with only one lens in an unfamiliar and un-intuitive – to me, anyway – focal length of 35mm; but I don’t think it was different enough to force the creativity out. I should have tried shooting with only my iPhone or something. Or perhaps painting the camera pink, just to disarm the public to provoke some interesting reactions from street photography subjects.

The embarrassment of gluttony. 2006. Nikon D50, Sigma 30/1.4

By the opposite logic, it’s also worth making conscious observation of what does inspire you – what do your favorite subjects or images have in common? It might be one simple thing – I’m drawn to the mechanical intricacy of watches, for instance – or something much more complex; like the juxtaposition between man and environment; dramatic lighting; harmonious geometry – or a mix of all three.

Seafood seller. 2006. Nikon D2H, Sigma 30/1.4

The underlying moral of the story is action: don’t wait until afterwards to change things, it might be too late. I’ll never know what shots I’ll have missed, but you can bet next time I won’t wait to find out. MT

Bonus points to those who noticed the difference between the first set of images in this series – shot this year with an M9-P – and the second set, from my first long stint in Bangkok, shot with various other equipment? Why is this? Many things have changed: location (different parts of the city), equipment, most of all, experience, and the benefit of a lot more experimentation in the intervening years.