Exercise 3.3 – Landscape, foreground to background

Find a good viewpoint, perhaps fairly high up (an upstairs window might do) where you can see a wide view or panorama. Start by looking at the things closest to you in the foreground. Then pay attention to the details in the middle distance and, finally, the things towards the horizon. Now try and see the whole landscape together, from the foreground to horizon (you can move your eyes). Include the sky in your observation and try to see the whole visual field together, all in movement (there is always some movement). When you’ve got it, raise your camera and take a picture. Add the picture and a description of the process to your learning log.

The exercise brief describes the process that a landscape photographer would go through instinctively. However, it can occasionally be useful to break down a process and think about it step-by-step.

The scene I have chosen is one of the iconic views of Kent, Aylesford village with its medieval bridge, as seen from the nearby road bridge. Normally, I would take this from mid-span, which shows more of the old bridge, and crop tighter into the bridge which excludes much of the foreground. For the purpose of this exercise, I have moved to the left and included the river bank as foreground. Unfortunately, this includes a lot of ’empty’ water but at least, today, a fresh breeze has thrown up an interesting ripple texture.

The visual interest is in the middle-ground (bridge and houses) and background (church and distant trees), and I build up the scene forward and backward from there. As noted above, I have used the undergrowth of the left-hand bank as foreground interest and a lead-in line to the bridge. The threatening sky (threat fulfilled five minutes later) gives us our backcloth. I have used the two trees at the left and right edges as ‘eye-stoppers’ to prevent the viewer’s eye wandering out of the sides of the image.

Finally, the image was made with a Canon G1X in aperture-priority mode, ISO100, 1/100s at f/8 and subjected to a bit of tweaking in Lightroom

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(In)decisive Moments

Before you go any further, give some careful thought to the ‘decisive moment’ debate and note down where you stand (at the moment, anyway) in your learning log.

I start this posting agnostic on the question of “the decisive moment”: whether it is fundamental principle of photography, a cliche or just irrelevant. Partly it is because the concept is slippery to get hold of and partly because I am not convinced that HCB intended the phrase to have the importance later authors have ascribed to it. For instance, the phrase appears nowhere in O’Byrne’s film ‘L’amour tout court‘ (O’Byrne 2001).

The phrase first appears in a photographic context as the title of a 10-page essay forming the preface to HCB’s 1952 book ‘Images à la Sauvette‘. The original book title does not translate easily into English (it references the French phrase ‘vendre à la sauvette’ meaning unauthorised street trading or street peddling (Reverso) which looks like a good parallel with street photography) so the American translator and publisher adopted the essay title ‘The Decisive Moment‘ for the entire book. (Assouline 2005, 140)

From then onwards, Cartier-Bresson was established as the photographer of the decisive moment. Thus are legends born. The effect was to blur his image in the United States, for by radicalising his ideas in so restrictive a manner, the description had fixed him once and for all (Assouline ibid.)

As with my posting on originality, it is necessary to heed Humpty Dumpty (as reported by Dodgson and collected in Gardner 1970, 269) on the meaning of words. It is possible to create or to escape from a problem by the way we define our key words.

HCB describes, rather than defines the concept:

If a photograph is to communicate its subject in all its intensity, the relationship of forms must be rigorously established. Photography implies the recognition of a rhythm in the world of real things. What the eye does is to find and focus on the particular subject within the mass of reality; what the camera does is simply to register upon film the decision made by the eye. (Cartier-Bresson, reported by Fotografia 2015)

To me, photography is the simultaneous recognition, in a fraction of a second, of the significance of an event as well as of a precise organization of forms which give that event its proper expression. (Cartier-Bresson, ibid.)

In L’amour tout court (part 2, 2:11 and 4:30), HCB tells us that form and geometry are everything. His ‘decisive moment’ then is the moment at which the elements of the image come into a formal composition and he decides to press the button.

For me, the best illustration from popular culture is the old Channel 4 station idents, collected here on YouTube.

My favourite example is at 1:59 because it could be a real-world situation, not invoking levitation. Of course, these clips are not a perfect analogy because the scene and the motion are pre-defined to create an artificial ‘decisive moment’. However, they illustrate the point that there is an instant when everything comes together correctly.

Eric Kim takes a similar view and tells us ‘This moment is fleeting, meaning that once you miss that half of a second to capture that moment, it is gone forever. You can never recreate the same circumstances in terms of location and people… Capturing an image half a second too late or early can greatly influence the outcome of an image.‘ (Kim s.d.)

Derrick Price describes HCB’s technique thus:, ‘Henri Cartier-Bresson lay in wait for all the messy contingency of the world to compose itself into an image which he judged to be both productive of visual information and aesthetically pleasing. This he called ‘the decisive moment’ a formal flash of time when all the right elements were in place before the scene fell back into its quotidian disorder‘ (in Wells 2000, 98)

All of these descriptions converge on the idea that ‘the decisive moment’ is the moment that the photographer decides is right to take the photograph. While this is a useful idea to have in the back of one’s mind, it is also a circular definition analogous to, in other fields, Darwin’s  concept of ‘survival of the fittest’ (where ‘the fittest’ are defined as those most likely to survive) or Lord Atkin’s ‘neighbour principle in Donogue v Stevenson (1932) which is the foundation for the law of negligence (paraphrased: I owe a duty of care to my neighbour; my neighbour is a person to whom I owe a duty of care)

Therefore, in my opinion, ‘the decisive moment’ is not so much a cliché as a tautology. In the example given on p.69 of the course notes, the unknown photographer’s 1953 image is poor not because it is derivative but because it is badly-executed.

Michael Freeman (2011, 146) notes that some photographers have challenged ‘the decisive moment as not being relevant to their way of shooting, citing Garry Winogrand’s ‘indecisive moment’ and Arnold Newman’s comment that ‘there are many moments’

He also (2007, 98) notes that the concept is not unique to street photography and the decisive ‘moment’ might play out over minutes or hours.

One modern debate arises from digital technology and the ease of taking multiple images in ‘machine-gun mode’ at effectively zero cost, rather than pre-planning and exposing valuable film at precisely the right instant. Darlene Hildebrandt (2014) dubs this technique ‘Spray and Pray’.  She prefers to get it right in camera but quotes situations where ‘spray and pray’ has an advantage: very fast movement, too quick for normal reactions, or where the intention is to create a sequence.

My view on ‘spray and pray’ is that it is a way of delaying a decision. In principle, it allows us to select a ‘decisive moment’ post-hoc and in post-production. In practice, it encourages laziness at the point of shooting and involves lot of work in editing.

Incidentally, Freeman (2011, 146) accuses Winogrand of doing the same kind of thing in film, shooting ‘haphazardly and in great quantity’ and leaving behind 8000 unprocessed rolls of film awaiting a selection process.

The course notes also refer to ‘The Present‘ a work of Paul Graham, as reviewed by Colin Pantall (2012) as being an example of ‘the decisive moment’ missing the point of our contemporary situation.

Pantall tells us ‘And what he wants us to see is the antithesis of the decisive moment and the spectacle of the urban experience. Instead we get a very contemporary contingency, a street with moments so decisively indecisive that we don’t really know what we are looking at or looking for.’ but he appears to consider this a good thing.

I agree that Graham’s images are the antithesis of the decisive moment and, frankly, I find them rather pointless. In the examples given in the review we see street scenes with no particular composition (or even attempt to hold the camera straight), two or three examples of each taken at random times with random passers-by. The big concept appears to be conning the viewer into believing there is some significance in doing a ‘spot-the-differences’ exercise.

In summary, and returning to the original question,  I believe ‘the decisive moment’ is a central concept to photography, but one that each photographer subtly redefines in his own image (if you will excuse the pun).

References

Assouline, P. (2005) Henri Cartier-Bresson: A biography [English translation] London: Thames and Hudson

Freeman, M. (2007) The Photographer’s Eye Lewes:Ilex

Freeman, M. (2011) The Photographer’s Vision Lewes:Ilex

Fotografia (2015) The Decisive Moment as Henri Cartier-Bresson meant it [online] at: http://fotografiamagazine.com/decisive-moment-henri-cartier-bresson/

Gardner, M (1970) Lewis Carroll. The Annotated Alice. Revised edition. London: Penguin

Hildebrandt, D. (2014) Do You Wait for the Decisive Moment or do You Spray and Pray? [online] at: http://www.digitalphotomentor.com/do-you-wait-for-the-decisive-moment-or-do-you-spray-and-pray/ (accessed 13 June 2016)

Kim, E. (s.d.) How to Master “The Decisive Moment” [online] at: http://erickimphotography.com/blog/2010/07/01/“how-to-masterthe-decisive-moment” (accessed 13 June 2016)

O’Byrne, R.(2001) Henri Cartier-Bresson L’amour tout court (with English subtitles) [online] at https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL707C8F898605E0BF (accessed 6 June 2016)

Pantall, C. (2012) The Present [online] at: http://www.photoeye.com/magazine/reviews/2012/05_17_The_Present.cfm

Reverso.(s.d.) ‘sauvette’ translation. [online] at: http://dictionary.reverso.net/french-english/sauvette (accessed 13 June 2016)

Wells, L (ed.) (2000) Photography: A Critical Introduction (2nd edition) London: Routledge

YouTube (2006) Channel 4 idents [online] at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-CVdllN67OQ (accessed 10 June 2016)

L’amour tout court

Raphaël O’Byrne’s film/interview L’amour tout court can be found on YouTube with English subtitles and split into five parts. Because of a copyright issue with part of the soundtrack, parts 4 and 5 are muted, but we are still able to hear Henri Cartier-Bresson’s (“HCB”) voice in parts 1-3. The film can be found as a single entity but the whole soundtrack is muted.

In the film we meet HCB as an old man, age 92 or 93, reminiscing and perhaps rambling a bit (this could be the result of editing) over a full life. His speech is slow and he is occasionally vacant or on the verge of tears as if a memory is particularly hard to reach, or painful. An example is the assassination of Gandhi, minutes after HCB had been discussing death imagery in a photograph with him.

Although one of the greats of photography, Assouline (2005) sees HCB as an artist, first and last, who expressed himself with a camera for a time. In the film (O’Byrne 2001, part 3 3:00) HCB tells us that he has not taken a photograph for a long time and prefers to draw. However, much of the same principles apply, “You look, you transcribe” and you have to know where to stop, where any more would detract from the image (HCB in O’Byrne 2001, part 3)

It is in parts 1 and 2 that we learn most about HCB’s philosophy of photography, through a series of quotes:

Most of them don’t look. They press the button… (part 1, 1:27)

This is about seeing and composing the image before taking it. HCB composed in the viewfinder and instructed that his images should be presented without cropping.

It’s always luck. It’s luck that matters… You have to be receptive, that’s all… Like the relationship between things, it’s a matter of chance. If you want it you get nothing. Just be receptive and it happens (part 2, 0:55)

HCB is being modest. I am reminded of the quotation (attributed by Gary Player to Jerry Barber) “The more I practice, the luckier I get”. HCB had trained his powers of observation; elsewhere in part 2 we have a third-party description (Yves Bonnefoy?) of the taking of a photograph of children in a covered square. The narrator had not even noticed children there; HCB snapped the image as he walked, without slowing down. While others are distracted or unobservant, HCB was on the lookout and ready to react.

I go for form more than light. Form comes first.(part 2, 2:11)

Sensitivity, intuition, sense of geometry. You have it or you don’t. Even now, that’s all that interests me (part 2, 4:30)

HCB’s images are composed (possibly ‘designed’ is a better word) in the viewfinder, which is why he would not crop them post-capture.

In parts 4 and 5, we learn of the influence of the Far East and Buddhism. In parallel, Assouline (2005, 127) records that a great influence on HCB’s approach was a copy of ‘Zen and the art of archery‘ presented to him by Georges Braque on D-Day 1944. This approach is seen in the way that HCB could apparently fade into the background so that his subjects didn’t see him, even at emotional times such as the Japanese actor’s funeral.

Overall a fascinating insight into the man and his philosophy. I watched it twice and was inspired to read Assouline’s biography as a result.

References

Assouline, P. (2005) Henri Cartier-Bresson: A biography [English translation] London: Thames and Hudson

O’Byrne, R.(2001) Henri Cartier-Bresson L’amour tout court (with English subtitles) [online] at https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL707C8F898605E0BF

Exercise 3.3 – Timeframes

What do the timeframes of the camera actually look like? If you have a manual film camera, open the camera back (make sure there’s no film in the camera first!) and look through the shutter as you press the shutter release. What is the shortest duration in which your eyes can perceive a recognisable image in bright daylight? Describe the experiment in your learning log.

Because the lens elements can distort the view, I have done this exercise using ‘bare’ shutters. I was intrigued as to whether the result is the same with leaf shutters and focal-plane shutters.

Incidentally (a minor niggling point) I regard ‘shutter’ as a misleading name for a device that is really an ‘opener’.

For the leaf shutter, I took a large-format lensboard and removed the lens elements leaving a bare Synchro-Compur with speeds between 1 sec and 1/400s. I was able to perceive a sunlit scene at all available shutter speeds.

For the focal-plane shutter, I removed the lens of a Pentax Spotmatic SLR. This has a horizontally-travelling focal plane shutter with speeds between 1sec and 1/1000 sec and a flash-synchronisation speed of 1/60s. I was interested in whether I got different results below the synch speed (where the shutter is fully-open for a time) and above (where the second-curtain is released before the first is fully open). Again, I was able to perceive a sunlit scene at all shutter speeds.

I wonder if this counts as a ‘failure’ in the experiment, as I found no cut-off speed at which the image was lost. Perhaps removing the lens made it too easy. (Alternatively, perhaps attempting the exercise with a lens in place, as anticipated by the course notes, distorts the results)

However, there were two interesting observations to be made:

First, the focal-plane experiment is a demonstration of persistence of vision. I saw the whole scene and the whole of the circular lens-throat outline even at the higher speeds where the shutter is never fully open. Effectively, a continuous set of moving slit-images appeared as a whole.

Second, the eye takes time to focus. If I concentrated on the shutter, I could feel my eye muscles adjusting focus to the scene. At higher speeds, it is necessary to ‘pre-focus’ on the distant scene in order to see it properly through the shutter.

Exercise 3.2 – some stuff from my archives

Before leaving Exercise 3.2 and the representation of motion, I will post a few examples of some of my earlier (pre-OCA) experiments.

The first image is not, strictly, a multiple exposure but a sequence of images (1/1000s with the camera in ‘machine gun’ mode) montaged in Photoshop. The focus blur on the rearmost image is accidental but seems to ‘work’. My montaging technique is not perfect, so there is some uneven colour in the sky around the kite-lines.

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The next set is of an Irish Coastguard helicopter that was doing training exercises with a car ferry that I was travelling on, which gave me the chance to experiment with the effect of shutter speed on the rotors are depicted. In the first image, at 1/1000s, the main rotor is ‘frozen’ which gives the uncomfortable feeling that the engine has failed and the helicopter is about to fall out of the sky

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At 1/400 we see some blur but the rotor is still effectively static. At 1/15s we lose it almost completely. The intermediate images with shutter speeds of 1/100s to 1/50s work best for me.

Slow shutter speeds and moving people can produce results ranging from delightful to bizarre, with quite a lot of ‘interesting’ in between. The two dancer images have exposure times of 0.8 secs, resulting from the very low light in the hall, but which capture the movement of the veils (which is the object of this dance)

In crowd scenes with an exposure of about 1/2s as with the examples below, people walking will blur but not disappear. This sort of image emphasises the stationary people and is a way of emphasising stillness in the middle of bustle.

Shutter speed is critical as there is a very odd effect which occurs at exposure times of 1-2 seconds. No matter how fast a walking or running person is moving, the foot on the ground is stationary. At these shutter speeds, a moving crowd becomes a sort of fog full of disembodied feet, which is very disturbing.

The final image is made with a pinhole camera and an exposure of 5 minutes. This is Maidstone’s main shopping street on the weekend before Christmas. The grey ‘fog is a crowd of moving shoppers. Only the group taking a breather are recognisable.

Maidstone pinhole mk1-003

Exercise 3.2 – working with moving clouds

The images in this posting continue my Exercise 3.2 work, but viewing clouds in motion rather than water. I was fortunate enough to visit the Angel of the North on a breezy day with broken cloud. My viewpoint is downwind of the Angel, with the intention that the clouds would be advancing toward me.

The first set of images, effectively, repeat the water exercise with single exposures at shutter speeds between 1/800s and 40 secs.

Clouds are slower-moving than water and I saw no significant blur at shutter speeds faster than 1 second. The 20- and 40 second images give an impression of motion but introduce a second problem, clouds have rather softer definition than water and the motion blur tends to smudge into a featureless highlight.

In the final two images below, I have used the E-30’s multiple exposure facility to capture four images on a single frame in-camera. A function named ‘automatic gain control’ has handled the issue of total exposure, presumably by reducing the effective ISO sensitivity.

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4 exp, 5 secs at 30 sec intervals

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4 exp, 1/100s at 30 sec intervals

The second version, with multiple short exposures gives the best definition but a sense of staccato movement. My preference is for the first image, combining reasonable definition with some motion blur.

Exercise 3.2 – shutter speed and moving water

I have long held the belief that there is no ‘correct’ shutter speed for moving water or, to put it better, there is no such thing as an incorrect speed for moving water. Different shutter speeds simply tell different stories. In this post, I examine a wide range of shutter speeds and also two different types of motion.

The first two sequences are at the Lodore Falls in Borrowdale, running a little empty after a period of dry weather. I therefore worked in close to show a reasonable flow of water and to avoid glare as much as possible.

The first sequence was shot at shutter speeds between 1/640 second and 60 seconds.

At 1/640, my intention was to freeze the motion, for comparison with the slower speeds. Individual water droplets are frozen; there is confusion but I get no sense of motion. At 1/200 and 1/100 it is possible to make out individual droplets together with enough blur to show there is motion and some (admittedly small-scale) violence.

At the intermediate speeds, the movement is  shown by streaks rather than blurred droplets. The one that works best for me is 1/25 s.

The three slowest images were made using an ND10 ‘big stopper’ filter. As the exposure time increases, the details in the moving water smooth out. There is a sense of ‘flow’ in the falling water, the splashes have disappeared or form a light mist, and the froth below the stone takes on a milky appearance, with most of the detail disappearing between 5 and 20 seconds. This area is confused rather than flowing.

The second set of images takes a wider view, with an obvious direction of flow. Shutter speeds were between 1/250s and 60 seconds. A polariser was used to minimise glare by ‘killing’ some reflection from the rocks behind the water. The lower fall and the rock are those seen in the first sequence.

Again, the fastest shutter speed freezes the motion. In this case, there is enough detail to be interesting. However, my preference is for the images between 1/100s and 1/10s, where we see both detail and motion blur and get a feeling of flow and tumult. With the longer times, particularly at 60 secs, there is a feeling of ‘flow’ but the individual droplets are lost and the impression is much more peaceful. The appropriate speed depends on the message one wants to convey. My favourite from this set is the image made at 1/8s.

In the third set, I look at a water surface moving in the form of ripples but with no overall flow. Shutter speeds were between 1/1250s and 60 secs

Tonal differences between the top and bottom row may arise from the use of an ND10 filter for the bottom row. We see individual ripples in all the top row images, with blur starting to intrude at 1/13s. With the two faster images on the bottom row, we know that the surface is rippled but is being smoothed out; I get the best impression of motion a 1.6 secs. In the two longer exposures, the motion has been smoothed out to a ‘frosted glass’ texture. There has also been time for clouds to pass over and their shadows to average-out, so the overall tone is smoother.

I am aware that bigger waves have a longer period and would require correspondingly longer exposures to get a similar effect. The ‘surface’ would also appear more as a layer of mist.

Overall, there appear to be three ‘zones’ of effect arising from shutter speed. Very fast shutters ‘freeze’ the movement and show detail, but can look a bit artificial. Medium shutter speeds (say 1/100s to 1 sec) give the best impression of movement and tumult. The very slow shutter speeds, seconds or minutes, average-out the random fluctuations (thereby appearing more serene) and show the underlying flow or stillness of the body of water.