Photo of the Week: July 15, 2008

HOW I GOT THE SHOT: One of the best ways to improve your photography skills is by studying pictures, including your own. Years ago I made a similar image of hay bales in California and hung a print on my wall. I was proud of it, enjoyed it, but most of all, I looked at it often enough to eventually see its faults and how I could have improved it. Today I instruct my students to choose one of their photos to hang in their homes, not simply to help them strengthen their identities as photographers, but also knowing that a lesson will emerge for them at some future time.

This image was taken spontaneously as I drove through Emek HaEla, about 30 minutes from my home. Agricultural scenes are not difficult to find in Israel, so this is not the kind of subject that ordinarily captivates me, because, frankly, these images remind me more of Iowa than Israel. Nevertheless, the pleasant morning light falling on the freshly baled hay compelled me to finally stop and practice my art. Because the bales are identical in color to the surrounding ground from which they were cut, lighting was crucial to make them stand out. Notice how the top and left side of the nearest bale blend in perfectly with the adjacent background. Fortunately, the sun's position to the left and behind the bales creates shadow on the front side, giving strong definition to each bale, much as a portrait photographer sculpts the face of his subject with light to emphasize facial features. The dark rectangles also form an interesting, staggered pattern that meanders through the image and injects a welcome dynamic into an inanimate and static subject. Hey, is this Iowa? No, it's the Holy Land.

Photo of the Week: July 8, 2008

HOW I GOT THE SHOT: The Kotel is the western supporting wall of the Temple Mount in Jerusalem and the holiest site at which Jews may pray. (The holiest site would be the Holy of Holies, situated somewhere on the Temple Mount itself, but whose exact location is not known.) Probably the most visited and photographed site in Israel, the Kotel reverberates – for many of us – with a mystical and spiritual energy that inspires awe and reverence. All along the wall, thousands of tiny notes, containing prayers to God scribbled in every language known to man, are jammed into cracks and crannies, some surviving there for years.

I have made dozens of pictures of these notes, and admire their colors and patterns every time I am at the Wall. This is one of my favorite shots because, unlike most of the other smooth stones making up the wall, this section is rough and jagged. I like the way the dark shadows of the crevices contrast with the brighter areas of the stone and how the colored notes – including the many white ones - provide visual relief from the dominant brown of the stone. I made one minor change while preparing this image for presentation: I cropped the bottom, moving the edge upward to cut off the small, white note. Because the image is vertically oriented to conform to the cracks running from top to bottom, cropping at this point gives the base of the photo an anchor, albeit subtle, which keeps the eye from sliding down and off the image.

Photo of the Week: July 1, 2008

HOW I GOT THE SHOT: Many years ago, I photographed a sunset at the Grand Canyon. There was an observation point along the road where about 25 tourists had gathered, but as soon as the sun dipped below the horizon, all but three of us went on our way. One of the other photographers quipped to me, "This is where you separate the amateurs from the pros!" Why? Because the best light from a sunset often occurs about 15-20 minutes after the sun disappears. He was right, as the best shots of the evening came a short while after the crowd had vanished.
Despite being among the most commonly photographed subjects, sunsets frequently yield disappointing results. After all, how can you take a wide expanse of sky, the unique mood of twilight and a process that often lasts more than an hour and reduce it to the blink of an eye? Well, you can't really. Although I've taken many very satisfying sunset photos, I still find myself chasing after a good one and studying the sky in the late afternoon to see if clouds and weather patterns will combine for a good celestial show.

This shot was taken near the city of Sderot, on the way back from a trip to Gush Katif two years ago. I was traveling with friends when we noticed the colors forming in the sky with only a few minutes to spare before the sun disappeared. We jumped out of the car and looked for some high ground. Often with sunsets, I'll look for some interesting terrain to add to the composition, but in this case the horizon was just a straight line over flat ground, which didn't add any interest to the photo. Choosing to include only sky, I then focused on forming the best possible composition. Placing the fireball at the bottom of the frame was a bit unconventional, but it seemed to fit nicely at the tip of the downward spiral formed by the clouds and colors. Finally, the narrow, vertical format accentuates the patterns in the sky and the downward motion of the setting sun. In retrospect, this was the right cropping decision, but I still hedged my bets by taking a few horizontals as well, and sticking around for another 10 minutes.

Photo of the Week: June 24, 2008

HOW I GOT THE SHOT: All professional photographers have a specialty. Although I work for a broad spectrum of clients, my niche is Jewish photography. Whether I'm at a wedding or out on the trail, I try to find images with a uniquely Jewish flavor to them. Living in Israel gives me an advantage, because where else in the world would you encounter a bridge whose railing is lined with cutouts shaped like Stars of David? Granted, there were diamonds and hearts as well, but I knew if I could get a shot through one of the star-shaped holes, I'd have a powerful Jewish image. The sparkling sunlight on Tel Aviv's Yarkon River had already caught my attention, so I decided to push the power of my equipment to the limit.

Each star was about three inches across. I lined up my 70-200 mm lens at full zoom about five inches from the railing, much too close to focus. Instead, I pre-focused on the water and metered the exposure for the sunlight. I only had to wait a few seconds until a boater – there were at least two dozen out on the water – floated through my viewfinder. The blurred foreground was not a problem, because I knew that by exposing for the bright light in the distance, it would transform from ugly battleship gray to a pure black silhouette. The kayaker also darkened up nicely, which preserves the boater's anonymity and avoids giving the viewer any additional, potentially distracting details. Finally, when preparing the image for this email, I cropped it slightly off center, giving more weight to the left side. All photographs have action, or a direction of movement. By cropping more loosely to the front of the kayak, I have given the subject some space to move toward. These tiny subtleties are found everywhere in good pictures, and are the difference between engaging or losing a viewer's interest, whether or not they ever know the reason why.

Photo of the Week: June 17, 2008

HOW I GOT THE SHOT: I am fond of quoting the master photographer Ansel Adams, who said in a moment of spiritual musing, "Sometimes I do get to places just when God's ready to have somebody click the shutter." This image required little more than setting my camera on a tripod and waiting for the curtain to rise. I did make a conscious decision to compose the shot in two equal halves, but beyond that, it's all God's show. I have been asked several times about this photo, Is the color real? A more appropriate question would be, Is this how it really looked? The answer, then, is that it depends who's looking.

One of the most important lessons a budding photographer can take into the field is an understanding of the difference between how our eyes see and how a camera records what it "sees." Simply put, cameras attempt to replicate images the way our eyes see them. As good as cameras are at doing this, they are still not as good at "seeing" as the highly complex human eye-brain system. One of the innovations in digital camera technology is the white balance setting, which gives the camera a reference point for color. You tell the camera what kind of light you are working in (sunlight, shade, fluorescent, etc.) and it uses a preset formula to establish the color relationships so that the resulting images look natural. Most people are satisfied to use the automatic setting and never give this a second thought. In this shot, however, in the fatigue of dawn, I mistakenly left the camera on a white balance setting that allowed more of the blue light to be recorded and filtered out the warmer, red and yellow light of the rising sun. The camera did what it was told to do, and my eyes, although surprised by the dramatic results, were nevertheless quite pleased.

Photo of the Week: June 10, 2008

HOW I GOT THE SHOT: After selecting this week's image, I began to think about why the still life is such a rich tradition among painters. What is it about fruit, inanimate and ordinary, that compels the greatest artists to devote major works to the simplest of subjects? Part of the answer, I think, has to do with the desire to take a familiar object and apply one's personal artistic vision to recreating it. By choosing an interesting combination of shapes and colors, light and composition, they elevate their subjects to something unique and durable, a work that is pleasing to look at over and over again. I have never felt the lure of the still life, yet I am drawn to fruit trees, especially in Israel, where, like many others who live here, I have a heightened reverence and appreciation for the produce of the land. I prefer to shoot these subjects in nature, where I don't have the painter's luxury of manipulating the composition.

To get this image, I braved a hot, dusty orchard at midday and my eyes had to sort through the bright sunshine and visual chaos to hone in on a point of interest. This shot uses a sophisticated version of the ever-reliable framing technique. The dappled light on the blurred leaves in the foreground combined with the cherries along the outside of the frame form a tunnel which brings the viewer straight into the main subject. I made several attempts to crop the image to make it stronger, but each time reverted back to the original, uncut composition. I prefer the way the disorder of the outer parts of the image balances with the clarity of the center, giving a more realistic impression of the orchard. Finally, the sunlight striking both the cherries and leaves enhances their red and green hues, perfect color complements, which always look good to the human eye.

Photo of the Week: June 3, 2008

HOW I GOT THE SHOT: How do I know when to stop and take a picture? I hate to answer simply that it's a gut feeling – although that is a large part of it - but there are more specific considerations that also come into play. Landscapes, for example, must convey something of what the photographer felt while viewing the scene being photographed. Since every landscape photograph is an abstraction, a very limited representation of a bigger, more detailed place, the challenge becomes how to express something very personal and intimate with only a small canvas on which to paint. In my 10 years in Israel, I've spent less than two weeks in Eilat, but I think the mountains of this region are among the most remarkably beautiful in the world. Their beauty derives mainly from the blending of their unique coloration, which varies from a light, sandy color to a dark, chocolaty brown. I began to hunt for an image which combined these colors with the starkness of their sharp peaks and a landscape almost devoid of anything green and alive. Once I had found the elements that I had identified as responsible for my appreciation of the area, I could easily build a photograph that communicated back to the viewer these same feelings. In order to retain sharpness throughout this image, I chose a point of focus about one-third of the way into the depth of the photo and used an aperture of f-16, which, in addition to providing great depth of field, maximizes the optical quality of the lens. The very warm, red-gold color of the foreground rocks and peaks is a result of the low-angle of the sun as it rises to the rear of the camera.