The Decisive Moment

Photography is about moments, captured in a specific location, showing a specific scenery in a unique light. Bringing all of these things together – when we press the shutter – the camera captures a moment time.

Sometimes that one moment is referred to as the decisive moment.

And the interpretation is that the decisive moment is something happening in the world and we are the witnesses of that moment.

That the world moves towards this moment and it is our task to catch it like a butterfly in a net. And there is some truth to that. Some moments, some light, some cloud formation, some body language, that fleeing smile on our kid’s faces – they are there and gone. They exist in moments, just visible for a second, and then they change again into something different. If we fail to catch that moment you might say: „The decisive moment is gone.‟, like a loss, something we have not achieved, something we failed to do. But there are millions of other moments ahead of us, and there is always the chance that they are even more decisive than the moment we just missed.

I prefer another interpretation of that phrase: „the decisive moment‟, because it is us to decide on how to paint this moment. We decide what to photograph. We decide where to stand. We decide what to include and what to exclude. We judge the light. We set the depth of field. We set the shutter speed. These are the tools we have and to work with. And they are far more important than what the world around presents to us.

The decisive moment ist the moment when we decide to press the shutter. It tells more about what is happening inside us than about what is happening in the world.

Everything we do in photography – if we do it consciously – tells a lot about what is going on inside us, from the choice of the subject to technical settings, post production and presentation. Everything there is more about us than about the world outside.

The decisive moment indeed is when you press the shutter. But not because you catch the fleeing moment, but because the moment resonates within you. That is decisive.

 

Blue Moon
Blue Moon
Monochrome Sky
Monochrome Sky
Thunderstorm
Thunderstorm
Thunderstorm
Thunderstorm
Evening Sky
Evening Sky

 

Monochrome Sky
Monochrome Sky

 

Play of Clouds
Play of Clouds
Feather Clouds
Feather Clouds

To the Sea

Looking back at older photographs of mine, I sometimes wonder what I was thinking when I made those shots. Not only that the technique I used was far from perfect, but sometimes I am astonished why the heck I made this shot at all. Today, I wold either not make it, or I would choose a completely different approach. This is good news for me, an indicator that my preferences have changed and my style (whatever that is) is not static, but continuously changing.

In that process, I also became aware that I am more interested in seascape photography than I am actually in landscape photography. I didn’t conciosuly recognize this until I went through my archives and tried to identify the most interesting pictures that I have made so far. It was actually quite surprised to find out that it were the seascapes that made the greatest impressions to me. Until then I assumed that I fell into the same photography category of Ansel Adams (great landscapes, preferably in monochrome) which I always counted amongst my favorite photographers.

Now I realize that my photography is so much not the style of Ansel Adams – and that I am absolutely ok with that. Quite a surprise to me. But somehow something I should have expected, as my father was always drawn to the sea and sailing boats – it seems at last I have inherited some of his desires to be with the ocean.

Obviously, photography can tell you more about yourself – when you look closer.

For me that means, I will visit the sea more often. I will try to visit coastline wherever I can – at last I have found my personal preferences and know where to look.

To the sea.

The Moon and the Sea
The Moon and the Sea
Dancing Ledge
Dancing Ledge

The Rock
The Rock
The Rock
The Rock

Location Review: Chapman’s Pool (Dorset)

Chapman’s Pool is a scenic cove near Worth Matravers in Dorset, not far from Swanage. It can only be explored on foot by walking down a steep path from a parking lot, approximately 1.5 miles distance through fields and down to the coast.

Good time to photograph is in the evening with overcast sky and not too high tide. Breezy days may help with interesting water movements. There are some old huts and fishing boats located at the pool, furthermore interesting rocks at the entry of the cove in the water and on location.

The major landmark is a high hill at the left side of the cove, it is dominating the scenery. Low clouds may cover the hilltop.

Equipment related, wide angle lenses, a tripod, neutral density filters and maybe graduated neutral density filters should be appropriate for scenic landscape pictures.

The place develops some interesting “moodiness”, especially at sunset with the sun behind heavy clouds – it is just a joy to make pictures here.

To the Sea
To the Sea
Chapmans Pool
Chapmans Pool

Fujinon XF16 F1.4

I have been using this lens now for approximately three weeks during our last holiday in Dorset. My primary use is landscape and seascape photography on a Fuji X-T1. It is mostly used with small apertures (f16) to achieve highest depth of field.

In a nutshell: This lens is amazing.

The lens was used in some difficult weather conditions (rain, spray from the sea) and did not suffer any damage so far. I am very confident this lens will last for a long time.

The picture quality in terms of corner to corner sharpness is very convincing. It is the best wide angle lens that I have ever used. Vignetting is not an issue, even with the Lee filter system holder attached to the lens. The minimal focal distance is very short, allowing for very creative shots and compositions. For my daily work here, this lens has become the major workhorse. And I would buy it again, definitely.

This post contains some sample pictures, see for yourself.

Seacombe
Seacombe
Burton Bradstock
Burton Bradstock
The Pond
The Pond
Dancing Ledge Portrait
Dancing Ledge Portrait
Moon over Rock
Moon over Rock

Soul

If there is one thing that we – as human beings – discussed for centuries and still elude to get the answer, it is the question:

What is the soul?

Everybody has some idea about it. Sometimes we know it is there. Sometimes we feel ist is missing. Interesting enough, we associate it primarily with living beings. However, once in a while, we come across things that are not alive, yet we feel these things have soul. We find soul in the way people make music (is it the sound or the person who has it?), we find soul in art made by craftsmen, we find it looking at paintings and sometimes also at photographs.

It seems like soul lacks scientific definition, it is something we can not point the finger to – yet it is visible in some things we do, some things we create. Things we do whole heartedly, with our complete skill set, seem to become imprinted with more than just the physics. They become art, because we gave something into them. They convey more than just the material. They become somehow more alive beyond the physical sphere.

But this is also true for some things we do not lay our hands on. Some things, left unattended, left alone for years, may become more interesting than they were when we left them. Old paint on a door, rotting, deteriorating, gets more character and speaks to some in it’s own language. They develop some kind of soul – or maybe it is different: we respond to them, our soul reacts and is drawn to those things. Our character, what makes us unique becomes more clear in those situations. We feel connected to those unanimated objects as if they were alive.

Sometimes what we see and what we react to, what we connect with, becomes the mirror of our soul.

We may not see the light of our soul itself, but in creating art, this light casts a shadow of what it really is.

Our photographs are more than just photographs – they are shadows, frozen in time, showing the scheme, the outline of who we really are. Learning the craft and making more photographs makes those shadows clearer, better, more engaging. Though it is not the light itself, those fleeing shadows we should value and learn from them. They tell us a lot about ourselves.

And this is why, if we want to create art, the process must be very personal. As photographers, we see something that deep within connects to us. We visualize something that is not there yet, something within us guides us to the point where we know how the picture is supposed to look like. The result of this process tells us not only something about what was there, but also about what we did see. And this seeing is fed by our inner self, our soul, by who we are. This is what makes us unique and we have to do, to call it art.

Art is the shadow, cast by the light of our soul.

 

The Magic of the Print

Theoretically, with today’s technology in screen based presentation of picturse, you could say that quality has evolved to the point that you may no longer need to print out anything anymore. Resolution, color reproduction and ease of use have come to a point that what you see on screen has a physical quality, that may outperform print work of the same size.

Years ago I asked this question a photography dealer when I was buying stuff for my analogue equipment and next vacation. I think it was ten roles of slide films. I asked:

With today’s digital resolution capability, why should I still go for slides if I could just beam the pictures to a wall?

His answer was immediate:

Today, you have no adequate means that could match the resolution and vibrancy of a slide. There is no adequate tool available to represent the resolution of slide film.

That was years ago. I was doing Kodak Ektachrome and AGFA black and whit slide films, cooling them in a fridge. I had my own darkroom and made prints, black and white.

Today, it seems like using a 4K and 5K monitor could put a nail in the coffin of the print or the slide. Retina display tablets have also reached a resolution that could absolutely keep up with a print of that size. The resolution has reached a point that we may ask

Why print at all?

Yesterday I got the answer – again. I was making some prints, testing different types of paper. Looking at those prints, seeing the structure of the paper, holding it in the hand is like nothing that my monitor could convey. Committing oneself to the print, and giving birth to it is a process that echoes in oneself. We are producing, physically, finally our baby that has gone through our creative process.

I observe myself, that I look longer at prints than I do at pictures on a screen. When the print is done well, there is so much more to explore, to feel and to reflect about.

The print talks to me in a language and with so much more intensity, that the presentation on screen can not do.

After all this technological development, it seems that we are still craftsmen – we need to produce something physical to finally reach our inner satisfaction.

The final print has some magic in it, it is the same picture you have seen on the screen, and yet it’s is so much more when you look at it.

It’s like the difference between watching a movie of you kids and actually seeing them alive.

De – Cision

The German language has a different word here: Entscheidung. The German word Scheidung means to separate something. We also have the phrase

Scheiden tut weh

– it hurts to be separated (from someone or something). So if we say Entscheidung, it actually means something good. We end an inner separation, we bring together the things, we make ourselves or a situation whole again.

To de-cide is to end a cision (if that word would exist) – a condition that cost more energy (if we are torn apart within, that condition does cost energy) and make room to move forward. If cision last too long, it drains energy from us, takes us away from the next step, hinders us to be whole.

As photographers, we make decisions all the time. We are used to decide: we exclude, we focus, we choose the aperture, we change position.

We compose the picture by making decisions.

If the pictures do not work out, the decisions might have been wrong – but we made them, nevertheless. We learn, and in future, our decisions might be better. Photographic technique is something we have to learn to know which decisions we can make, to understand what the consequences are. But this is only to help us on the way in our capability to better express ourselves. What we want to say – that is a different story we have to de-cide.

That is, what art(iculation) is about: to de-cide what to tell, and de-cide how to tell it, and finally – tell it.

First Experiences: Fuji X-E1 and the Fujinon 56 1.4 Lens

This one is about gear. Some weeks ago I was looking for a shift in my “day to day” equipment section. I used a Canon G1X – which gave great raw files and was good for my landscape photography. However I was not that happy using it for family business – a little bit to slow, a little bit to bad AF functionality. So I looked – due to some online reviews and posts – into the Fuji X system.

A good deal with my local preferred supplier and the X-E1 with the zoom kit made the change possible, selling my ol G1X saved my budget. Now I have the 56 f 1.4 as additional prime portrait lens – and overall I am pretty amazed how well this camera and lens work.

The AF is not stellar, but much better than my G1X. The low light performance at high ISO is incredible (!) for such a small sensor. It outperforms my 5D Mark II. The overall picture quality in JPEG is very satisfying. The shooting experience is great, the camera is engaging, with lots of manual control options. What I really come to love is the possibility to influence the JPEG rendering options in camera. I set up some presets for b&w pictures, and the results are absolutely satisfying, straight out of camera.

The optical quality of the 56mm lens is exceptional, it is a joy to use and sharp, even at 1.4 – with 5.6 also excellent up to the corners.

All in all – this system gives more than I expected. My 5D MII equipment is in danger, depending on how the Fuji system evolves in the next few month.

Miracle

Life is a miracle. If you think about the sometimes very destructive mechanisms forging the universe, the chance that something as beautiful as a birch tree in the evening light even exists is diminishing low.

Anyway – the physical universe does not know beauty.
Life knows beauty.
Human beings know beauty.

And yet, here we are. Being aware of our selfs, being aware of the surrounding universe – and knowing, feeling, what beauty is. Striving for happiness, for sense, for enlightenment – something that physically we can not proof it exists. It exists in us, we know that it’s exists, because it is part of our day to day experience. We know joy, happiness, grief, frustration, excitement, sadness, luck, anger, beauty – a whole universe of feelings within us, that are there, even we do not have a physical proof for that.

We are so much more, life – and our life in particular – is a miracle, given birth by a so much destructive environment.

Maybe, that is what is our inheritance we have from the universe, that finally brought us to existence. The power for creating and experiencing incredible beauty, and yet also the power and will to create incredible destruction.

What distinguishes us from the universe is, that we are capable to choose. We have choices how to act. And in this way, reflecting the universe around us, we are indeed blessed and cursed at the same time. Being able to choose differently and thus choosing between what we perceive as good and what we perceive as bad, blessed with free will And yet, at the same time, being cursed because we know the choice is ours, our responsibility.

And this is what a real day to day miracle is: a human being, making the right choices and bringing more beauty into into this universe instead of destruction.

We are a miracle, if we choose to be so.