Following on from the previous article on the process of turning an idea into an image – I thought it’d make sense to present another completed ‘idea’ for reference. Gravitation is relative was a day-project conceived with two students from the Prague Masterclass last year; our talent happened to be the 2016 Czech National Pole Dancing champion – so it made sense to develop a concept taking her talents into consideration. Given Prague has a reputation for being a bit crazy, it actually made sense to see how we might integrate both location and model into something a bit different. Street pole has been done many times, but I think perhaps not quite presented in the same way we intended: with a little visually plausible break from reality. The title reflects this, and is in turn a little play on the nature of gravity itself. Note: I added a coda of outtakes after the main sequence of images; this is to demonstrate how a few differences in execution (timing, presentation) can make a big difference to the impression of the final outcome. They may of course work with a different title; feel free to suggest one in the comments. MT
I’ve been continuing to work on the Paradise Lost project for some time now; at some point I will have to curate a consistent body of work to a theme and declare the thing ‘finished’, but in the meantime I’m still experimenting with the presentation. As mentioned previously, I’m treating this project as an ‘open book’ so you can see what goes into the creation of something like this. My current dilemma is a question of mood: is it a happy retirement, or a sad one, or a melancholic one? Or perhaps somewhere in between the three?
Today’s photoessay is something a little different – a work in progress, if you will. An idea occurred to me several months ago: we see the same objects every day, in slightly different light and from slightly different angles. This is what contributes to our overall impressions and memories of the object: it isn’t a single encounter but a series of experiences. I wanted to figure out the best way of translating this visually. There was no question it would have to be a composite of some sort; however, it would also have to be done in a way that would leave the identity of the object clear, but simultaneously indistinct. I played around a bit further with that idea and the concepts of definition and then anatomy arose; taking that one step further, I thought it might be interesting to present these as virtual x rays. It’s a very different approach to my normal photography since I almost never work with composites, and even less with this degree of postprocessing (which I’m happy to cover in a future episode of Weekly PS Workflow if anybody’s interested). I’d be curious to hear your thoughts…MT
Today’s post is going to be the first time I’ve presented a partially completed project – for the simple reasons that I feel it’s probably useful to discuss the creative process, because it’ll make a good follow on to this post on projects in general and because I have honestly no idea if or when I’ll ever be able to complete this set. The idea behind Crust is fairly self-explanatory: the dried, hard, textured earth from the air in monochrome – all the better to enhance the suggestion we may well be looking at a highly magnified burnt breakfast offering*.
*And I think I might well shoot that as the title image, too.
From Paradise Lost – the former forefront of military hardware in old age and thinking about better days
It is quite common to hear a photographer or artist talking about work on ‘x project’ or ‘y project’ – in practical terms, it means that images are being made to fulfil a certain objective or idea. For the longest time I’d stayed away from doing this because I felt frustrated at the limitations it would impose at the least expected of times. I also didn’t feel that I had the time to commit to pursuit of a single idea. But at some point in 2013, that all changed for me for various reasons. Outside commercial work, I now find myself working in a few major themes.
Today’s photoesssay is a continuation of the Verticality Project photoessay. I see this as an ongoing study of architecture. The aim is to replicate the feeling you get when you stand at the base of one of these things and look up: a sense of overbearing monolithic massiveness. The choice of a black and white square with no building base is deliberate: the sense of size remains because off the perspective, and the mood is maintained regardless of the color of the sky.
The majority of these were shot in San Francisco and Chicago, with a Pentax 645Z. Enjoy! MT
Sometimes – quite frequently, actually – I fin myself on an aircraft with not very much to do. I fly often enough and spend enough time in the air that I’m one of those people who will bother to try and find out the flight route in advance and pick the seat most conducive to photography on arrival or departure – assuming of course there isn’t an engine or wing in the way*. I’ve gotten some very satisfying images this way.
*Frequent travelers will know there’s always a tradeoff: the front of economy is usually blocked; the rear usually is noisy and has a lot of traffic en-route to galleys and toilets, and the view isn’t always clear because of the convection visible due to the engine exhaust heat. Or, you fly up front and land up bankrupt.
‘Project’-type photography – images shot to a theme as an exercise or assignment or with a view to an eventual exhibition – is generally a good way to motivate you to shoot if you’re stuck for inspiration. It narrows down the entire universe of possible subjects to just a few, or one. Or a single style. That restriction prevents the mental anguish of overload: either too many things to shoot, or nothing that really stands out in a visual barrage. If you’ve extensively shot the place you live in, it’s probably the former; the result is that you don’t land up photographing unless you take a trip or there’s an event – i.e. something out of the ordinary. The latter is what happens during that trip: perhaps there’s no inspiration, or there are just too many possible subjects, which result in a photographer losing focus and making a weak portfolio. Focus of effort is therefore generally a good idea. Believe it or not, this is actually the first intensely focused project of its sort I’ve attempted.