Passion and frustration

I’ll begin by saying that this is a difficult post for me to write for many reasons. Over the course of the last month or so, you – my valued readers – have hopefully seen some of my work and passion, and even more hopefully learned something from the articles and how-to’s.

I started this site for several reasons. Firstly, I wanted to share my knowledge; secondly, I want my work to reach a greater audience – although every true artist would (and often does) work without pay or acknowledgement, sometimes the egotistical part of us does value recognition. Thirdly, there are sites aimed at amateurs, at professionals, at particular user groups…but I find the level of content not really that advanced, or too equipment-focused, or not balanced between pure image sharing, learning and techniques/ equipment. Photography is all of these things. Finally, I want to figure out a way to spend more time doing photography-related things, and less time in the corporate world.

The reality of commercial photography these days is that there are plenty of talented people out there; more so now that people have discovered skills thanks to the ever-lowering barriers to accessibility. This is further compounded by the effects of social media (yes, I know I’m benefitting too). Curiously though, although the overall standard for images has raised thanks to the proliferation of photographers, the business community attaches less and less value to it – meaning to say bluntly that there really isn’t any money in the business (with a few very rare exceptions) because corporate buyers are both spoiled for choice and frankly can’t tell the difference most of the time. Those that can are served by long-standing relationships with existing photographers.

What does this mean? ‘Professionals’ are usually scratching a living and unable to have the freedom to develop and improve because that requires time and money; they’re short of the former because they need to do more jobs to get enough of the latter. ‘Amateurs’ have all of the equipment, for the most part act outwardly like professionals, but when the crunch hits, usually can’t quite deliver. The people who are truly pushing are either those aforementioned professionals with long-standing commercial relationships – think Annie Leibowitz and the like – or serious amateurs whose living costs are supported by a day job. I know for a fact that almost all of my professional photography friends do not make a living from selling pictures or photo work. Think about this for a minute: if professional photographers aren’t valued, who’s going to drive the image creation of the future? How are companies going to find the ever-better visual content demanded but not support the people they rely on to create it? I don’t think they’ve given any thought to that; bottom lines are all that matters.

I’m not complaining; far from it. The shift in photography market dynamics has opened up other opportunities that would have been previously unsustainable or commercially unworkable. But the reality for me is that I have to choose between my passion and my day job – which is both mutually exclusive, and nowhere near a fair contest.

Maintaining this blog – creating articles, photographing and keeping myself up to date and pushing the envelope to deliver content that you’d want to read – takes time. A lot of it. Somewhere in the region of 20-30 hours per week, actually – that’s almost a full time job in itself. Actually, it is a full time job if you think about how much more productive you are when you both don’t have to take breaks and can produce everything by yourself – and the topic is something you’re an expert on.

At some point, I’m going to have to decide which path I take going forward – I no longer have the time or ability to maintain both. It’s a tough choice, though – because one path is nothing but uncertainty (except perhaps certain poverty) and the other is the diametric opposite of anything creative. I suppose everybody who is intensely passionate about something, and that something is not their day job, faces this dilemma eventually. What I wonder is how many people regret not trying – and how many people try, but never manage to make it work and just give up eventually. Society likes to talk about determination leading to success – but we also call people fools who try repeatedly but never succeed.

So I’m going to do three things now:

1. Ask for your opinions and thoughts – please leave a comment on this post

2. Ask you to share – use the social media buttons; email links to articles you like; link my blog. (It’s still ad free, and in order to keep it that way I need to traffic to try out some of the other exciting ideas I have planned – which can only work if I have a big enough readership).

3. Shamelessly, if you’ve enjoyed reading or viewing or have learned something, please consider a donation via PayPal ([email protected]) – however large or small, it does help me to continue providing content and art for you all to enjoy. It’s not just the time cost; there are hosting costs, equipment costs, travel costs…the list goes on. The more resources I have, the better content I can create.

Finally – thank you all for your continued support! MT

POTD: Weekend worshippers at the temple of retail

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Weekend worshippers at the temple of retail.
Olympus E-PM1 Pen Mini, 45/1.8

Who says the economy is bad? Our (already high as a per capita basis) shopping malls are always packed to the gills on weekends, and still they open more. Note red shirted queue at top right – the malls are such crowd-pullers that Canon stages an annual one-day photography competition set solely in the mall itself. There were at least a thousand people running around with probably $1-2k of gear each – says quite a lot about the state of the photography industry, really. Never has it been so consumer-centric – which is a great thing for variety of equipment, but a disaster for working pros unless you’re well entrenched at the highest end of the spectrum. MT

Quick tip for the Leica M9: toggling images while zoomed in

I just discovered that if you hold down the play button and press the left or right arrow simultaneously, you can quickly toggle to compare successive images while zoomed in. I previously thought this was something only Nikons had – glad to see this handy review feature on the M9 and M9-P, too. Should make assessing images on the fly a lot faster. MT

Photoessay: Cigars

One of my other passions is to have a good cigar now and again. Although I mostly prefer Cubans, there are also some very good things coming out of the Dominican Republic such as the Fuente Opus X and Padron brands. Needless to say, a camera usually accompanies me to these outings; partially because it’s attached to me like an extra limb, and partially because I write the occasional review and video for My Cigar Blog. MT

This series shot with a whole load of different equipment.

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POTD: Sunset clouds over the sea

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Sunset clouds over the sea. Over Hat Yai, Gulf of Thailand. Leica M9-P, 35/1.4 ASPH FLE

Nikon D800 update

I’m impressed, Nikon is delivering on time for once: worldwide launch day is supposedly Thursday, 22 March; I got a call from my local NPS rep informing me that my D800 will be ready for collection that morning. However, I’ve got a whole day shoot booked – no chance that’s going to happen – so I’ll pick it up first thing Friday. Can’t wait! Expect first impressions Friday evening. Now I’m off to pick up new hard drives and cards – these files are going to be monstrous. MT

Observing vs. participating: behind the camera

Today’s post is a follow-on spurred by the discussion following yesterday’s article on hiding behind the subject. Apologies to anybody if I lose you in the second paragraph, but I promise it will be worth it.

A camera can be many things.

A tool, to produce an image.

A bridge, to start a conversation.

An observer, to record an event, or bear witness to something.

A shield, to distance and separate the photographer from the scene he or she is attempting to capture.

There’s a big difference between being part of the action, and just being a witness to the action. Which do you think makes for stronger images? Unquestionably, the former. However, it’s not that simple: photojournalism is like quantum mechanics.

Let’s take a little detour. Quantum mechanics 101: under the quantum mechanical realm – i.e. the very small – an observable event has no distinct state, but rather a continuum of probability. This means that there’s the potential for any possible outcome to our observable event; however, until we observe it, we don’t know what the outcome will be. However, the very act of observing the event changes the outcome – because once the outcome has been observed, it can no longer be any of the other possible outcomes. This changes the probability continuum for the event, thus changing the event itself.

The best example of this is Erwin Schrodinger’s (the famous physicist) cat experiment. A box contains a live cat, whose lid triggers a mechanism that <em>might</em> kill the cat. So until you open the lid of the box, you don’t know if the cat is dead or alive; by observing the cat, you interfere with its state of being: namely, you might kill it by checking if it’s really alive or not.

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A demonstration of the link between quantum mechanics and photography. Behaviour of the person in the middle didn’t change until he saw me bring the camera up.
New year’s eve 2011-12, Kuala Lumpur. Olympus Pen Mini E-PM1, 12/2

Back to photography. As a photojournalist, if you are an observer, you do not generally interfere with the course of events – other than any secondary impact arising from people viewing your images, and possibly taking action or interfering with the course of history. However, if you are a participant rather than an observer – then by taking photographs, you are directly interfering with the event. From a photographic point of view, it means that the images you get may be more powerful, but not necessarily as genuine because the subjects are aware of the camera and will almost certainly change their behavior accordingly, which again changes the image and changes the course of events because the subjects change the way they act around the camera. As a stealth operative, you will capture the natural reactions of your subjects – but at the expense of involvement for the viewing audience.

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Active participation at a family event. Olympus Pen Mini E-PM1, 12/2

They’re very different types of images, and both have their advantages and disadvantages – to say nothing of the ethical dilemmas posed for a photojournalist when covering certain events, for instance wars and natural disasters. I can’t say whether one is better than the other, but I do know that it’s much more difficult to get powerful images if you are not a participant – simply because the focus of the subject is not the camera.

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Passive observer. Epicure 2011. Nikon D700, 85/1.4G

I’ve always felt the best compromise is to be an observer, but an active one: anticipate and seek out your targets; study behavior and be ready for what comes next, so when that one fleeting moment of critical action – what HC-B memorably termed ‘the decisive moment’ – you are ready, and manage to capture it.

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The kiss, hommage a HC-B. London. Leica M8, Zeiss ZM2.8/21.

Required a lot of anticipation because a) the M8 is manual focus; b) you have to shoot wide open in the low light conditions of the Underground; c) here’s the kicker: they were on an escalator moving in the opposite direction to me, so there was really only one chance to get the shot.

There are times when you should not be a passive observer. In intimate social situations, for example – hiding behind your camera would just come across as awkward, antisocial and downright rude. Portraiture is another example. People naturally connect and express emotion more easily when there’s another human on the receiving end, rather than an enormous and intimidating piece of glass attached to a big black camera.

Perhaps this is why smaller cameras such as the compact system cameras and rangefinders are seeing a modern resurgence (aside from the obvious size and weight benefits) – they remove a layer between you and your subject in a couple of ways. Firstly, if you’re interacting with your subject, they can see your face; body language is the vast majority of communication, and your subject will take visual cues from you. If you’re not interacting with your subject, smaller cameras attract a lot less attention, and let you shoot without the subject being conscious of your presence. I have no problem shooting in very close quarters with a good point and shoot or mirrorless camera – the Ricoh GR-Digital III and Olympus Pen Mini are my favorites because of size and responsiveness – and to a lesser extent, the Leica M9-P. The full-sized Nikons are a no-no (especially anything with a battery grip or large aperture lens) unless you’re in a public situation where the expectation is a lot of people will have cameras and be taking photos.

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Never a problem finding a protest if you’re shooting a Leica. Just look like you’re a world-weary photojournalist and you’d be surprised how many ‘official’ lines you can get past. Leica M8, Voigtlander 50/1.1 Nokton

Speaking of expectations, this should be a good guide to what equipment and technique is best suited to get the best images: if you’re expected to look and play the part of a photographer – a fashion shoot, for instance – using a small camera so the model can see your face probably isn’t going to get you the results you desire. If you’re trying to be stealthy and cover an insurgent protest, then a point and shoot probably is a good idea to help you keep a low profile. Street photography is something else that’s best done with compacts, too. Bottom line: take your cue from your subjects.

One final word: if you are not comfortable, then it will show in your body language. Remember, most communication is nonverbal: this means you’re also going to make your subjects aware of your discomfort (and probably also make them feel uncomfortable with the situation). Most important tip: be confident, regardless of whatever your equipment choice, and however you chose to shoot. Photographers create images: appearing the part is a very important piece of the puzzle. MT

POTD: The hidden market

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Woman at the hidden market, Witthayu Soi Polo, Bangkok. Leica M9-P, 35/1.4 ASPH FLE

Concealed in a back alley near the Polo Club off Embassy Row (Wireless Road) in the heart of downtown Bangkok is a traditional old Thai community – complete with elderly people, wooden houses on stilts and plenty of small businesspeople selling one or two items from little stalls. Nestled in the high rises and million-dollar condominiums, how long can a place like this last before a developer sweeps in to make another quick fortune? Sad, but also touching at the same time that pockets of the old life like this still exist. MT

Hiding behind the subject

Photographers normally hide behind the camera (though we shouldn’t, because it distances us from what we’re shooting and makes us observers rather than participant-observers, but that’s another story for another time) right? So what’s with hiding behind the subject?

A friend once said this to me about a watch: I’m expecting exceptional photos because it’s an extraordinary subject. I didn’t quite understand what he meant at first, but I do now. How many images are famous because of the content – maybe the rarity of the subject, the famousness of the person, the momentousness of the situation – rather than because the photograph itself is exceptional? Look carefully. For instance, imagine the photo wasn’t of say Obama, but instead an ordinary man. Would it still be a special photograph? Probably not. The examples go on. Some of these images are truly special for their composition etc – but a lot are also well known solely because the photographer happened to be in the right place at the right time.

I’m not saying that news photographers can’t shoot, but there is a continuum. I often wonder whether I’d be able to produce images as good or better than other people if I was in one of those once-in-a-lifetime situations. The honest answer is, I don’t know.

But I digress; back to the watch.

Supposing you make what is perceived as an ordinary photo of an ordinary subject; that is probably par for the course. If you can make an exceptional photo of an ordinary subject, then the talent lies with you as the photographer rather than the subject for being special. However, if you fail to make a ‘wow’ photo with a very special subject – I dunno, say a Bugatti Veryron for instance – then you’ve both failed to capture the essence of the subject in the photograph, and failed to apply your nascent talent as a photographer.

I bore this in mind as I photographed the watch – a Lange & Sohne Datograph.

The image on the manufacturer’s site looks like this (slightly different to the actual watch shot because this is an updated model):

It’s technically competent, but a very flat, very boring shot that fails to capture any of the magic of the piece. I can’t say I was happy with my first, second or even third try; I too made an ordinary photo out of an exceptional subject (you’ll see why, shortly) or at best, a good photo. Which still didn’t do the subject justice, in my mind.

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Early attempt. Nikon D700, 60/2.8 G

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Later attempt, which you’ve probably seen in another article; I use this for illustration purposes. Yes, it’s compositionally and technically much stronger, but also fails in many ways to capture the essence of the subject. Nikon D700, 60/2.8 G

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Here’s an interesting attempt to capture the idea of cool precision. I think by throwing out conventional notions of how I’d shoot a watch, I was definitely making progress. I didn’t even use my usual D700 and 60 macro combination with flashes; this was shot with the Olympus Pen Mini, Panasonic 20/1.7 and continuous LED lights.

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Final attempt. I like this idea because it subtly represents the ‘best of Germany’-teutonic-aesthetic, yet it’s still a little bit imperfect (like anything handmade, especially the subjects) and a bit surreal. The watch was actually resting on the same surface as the lens, but the laws of optics reverse the projection (and in turn required mirror-imaging in photoshop to make the orientation look correct). Nikon D700, 60/2.8 G and a Leica Noctilux 0.95 ASPH.

This philosophy is something I now keep in the back of my mind when I shoot: don’t hide behind your subject. At very least, do it justice. If you can, then make an extraordinary photo. If you can’t, then try, or at least know when it doesn’t come up to scratch. It isn’t easy to do, but I think just one more way to raise your game. MT

POTD: The roof-harp

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The roof harp. Siam Paragon, Bangkok. Leica M9-P, 35/1.4 ASPH FLE