Expressive photography Archives - Page 2 of 2 - Thoughts on the Art of Fine Art Photography

Art, behavior, Expressive photography, Nature photography

Are we just a bunch of sun-worshippers?

I’ve been thinking this week about how something so common in our lives–sunset– always compels our attention, and why that is.

I just returned from a short visit to Shenandoah National Park. I’m lucky to live within an hour’s drive of the Park, or as I like to say the Park is “within 15 degrees cooler” from where I live. And during August, that 15 degrees can make a world of difference.

One evening I happened to be at the Skyland Lodge just before sunset, and something happened that made me ask myself: “Why do we (humans) do that?”

Skyland Lodge has a large picture window facing west, and just outside the window is a narrow deck running the entire length of the window. As the sun began to set, minute by minute, people calmly migrated from inside to outside, each person quietly finding a spot to stand along the deck to watch the sun set.

I wonder, is it just the mere beauty of a sunrise or sunset that attracts our attention, or is there something more to it? Why is it we might experience hundreds of such moments in our lives, and, still, the excitement for one more is just too great to ignore? I’m convinced there must be a “sunset” gene in our DNA that programs us to seek and witness as many as we possibly can during our lifetime. And in the iPhone era, being a witness to a sunset requires we also take a picture of it.

I have to admit something. When I’m out taking pictures, sunrises and sunsets are way, way down on my list of priorities. In fact, I tell myself to purposefully ignore chasing such moments. I tell myself that there are far more interesting subjects to capture than just another pretty sunrise or sunset. I tell myself that the interweb is chocked full of sunrises and sunsets, and I don’t need to contribute further to the clutter.

I tell myself these things, but when it comes right down to it, and when I find myself standing before an exciting sunrise or sunset, I have no other choice than to set up my camera and get ready to capture the most beautiful moment I have ever seen. Again, I think it must be something in my genes making me do this.

Sometimes, I’ll even consume several sheets of film on a single sunrise or sunset. Sometimes, I’ll return to the same spot on different days, or capture the same “moment” in both color and B&W. I just can’t help feeling that I must remember what I’m about to witness, and therefore take its picture.

Are you this way as well? Do you chase those moments as the sun rises or sets? I wouldn’t be a bit surprised– because I know you’re human !

I’m sharing one of my recent sunset photos with you today. Clicking the image of “The Rapture” will take you to its place in the gallery, where you can explore the details and see how it might give you just the right place to go when you need to satisfy a compelling need to witness a sunset.

In the meantime, if you want to connect with me on Instagram just click the Instagram button in the footer of this email and follow along. I’ll do the same for you. I’m doing my best to post a photo-of-the-day, and having a lot of fun seeing what my instagrammers are up to.

Art, art appreciation, Expressive photography, techniques

About chiaroscuro- clarity with mystery

example of expressing chiaroscuro in photography — Foot of the Fall

When done well, artfully expressing chiaroscuro gives the eyes lots to see in both the brightest parts of the image as well as in the darkest. The sense of depth can be profoundly interesting in such images. I like to say “Light without shadows is nothing, because shadows are where the secrets hide.” I enjoy getting lost in the shadows. Do you?

Now, let’s talk about chiaroscuro.

You might want to know first that Wiki says about chiaroscuro “..in art, is the use of strong contrasts between light and dark, usually bold contrasts affecting a whole composition.” The images below are classical chiaroscuro.
Chiaroscuro is an old fashion style of art, dating from the 1700s masters of portrait, still life, and genre painters like Caravaggio and Rembrandt. But it’s popularity has never gone away. Thomas Cole, Thomas Moran, and Albert Bierstadt, painters from the Hudson Valley School (1800s) extended the chiaroscuro style to landscapes. There are many contemporary painters and photographers who continue to make images in the chiaroscuro style, including me.

The only reason I’m even talking about chiaroscuro is because I absolutely love this style of imagery, and I think you probably do too since you’re reading this newsletter. After all, the strong use of shadows and light is a consistent feature in my own photographs, as in “Foot of the Fall” above.

In my implementation of chiaroscuro, I like to follow what I see in the old masters’ paintings. There’s always lots of delicate highlights, which are made more compelling by lots of delicate, revealing shadows. Note I didn’t say featureless whites and sooty, blank blacks. To me, featuring huge paper white spaces or pure black spaces is the farthest thing from true chiaroscuro.

When done well in photography, chiaroscuro should almost seem like the highlights are dancing with the shadows. One moves into the space of the other without stepping on toes or losing the natural rhythm. Neither is dominant; they are in perfect balance. And very difficult to achieve, even when I find natural compositions that might lend themselves to this treatment.

But I’ll keep looking for those that do.

Do you like this style of imagery? Do your eyes lock to one end of the light range over the other (highlights or shadows)? Or do they flick back and forth in search of secrets?

Until next time,

Jim

Picture of J. Riley Stewart Did you enjoy this edition of Friday Foto? Feel free to share this article with someone you think might also enjoy it, and invite them to subscribe to “Under the Darkcloth.” And please leave me a comment or ask a question by replying to this email.

Art, Expressive photography, Nature photography, philosophy

Why are we so drawn to trees?

Today’s featured image comes from my new compilation called “Simplicity of Woodlands.”

I love walking in the woods. Do you? Over the years, I bet I’ve hiked through woods more miles than any other type of terrain. Walking up and down mountains doesn’t thrill me. Walking down a city street….too many distractions. And pastures even grow old after several hundred steps.

But woodlands? They never get boring. Each tree has its own character, the smaller bushes, ferns, and grasses growing on the forest floor seem to change with every step I take. And there’s always the rocks and streams and animals and…. well, you get the picture (no pun intended).

As a photographer, though, finding simple woodlands compositions that I like to feature in my work can be very difficult. There’s just far too much CHAOS in the woods. Oftentimes, it really is hard to see the trees through the forest.

But every now and then something within the chaos catches my eye, and I just stop and relax for awhile until I am able to see its best face, at a particular moment.

It may be a quaint scene of an old log cabin harbored amidst the trees. Or a woodlands path taking me from a small bright clearing into the shadows of a dense canopy of the forest. Or perhaps an interesting tree sitting along the banks of a stream or lake or at the edge of a clearing. And sometimes it’s a glorious old oak tree stealing the show with its full autumn colors!

Even if you’re not the woodsy type, the human attraction to trees and woodlands is strong. Over thousands of years humans have developed a type of kinsmanship with trees. They shelter us. They hide us from danger. They feed us. They shade us when it’s hot. They even reward us with their beauty when we’re lucky enough to see it.

I’ve compiled my favorite woodlands scenes in my online gallery. Go Here, or just google “J Riley Stewart woodlands.” I hope you enjoy it.

Until next time, and I hope you’re loving the autumn season as much as I am.

PS. Clicking the image of “Oak Among Pines” will take you to its place in the gallery, where you can explore the details and see how it might give you just the right place to go when you need to rekindle your human desire for trees.

Art, Expressive photography, philosophy

Artful Images and the Question of context

abstract photograph of a stone fence as example of context matters — “Stones of Any Shape”

The first question we ask of an image is about context.

Have you ever wondered why you are drawn to certain images? I mean images you can’t take your eyes off of. Images that literally drag you in and stimulate you to recall precious stories from your own memory. The short answer is context, because in imagery, context matters.

The use of context in artful imagery is a huge factor in whether you may actually appreciate a given image (or not). Understanding this one aspect of imagery could lead you to collect art that you will love forever. It may also keep you from buying something that winds up in the attic after a few short years (…&*#@% !…).

The best way to explain why context is so important is to know that context is tightly linked to our own personal memories. Without a memory (or recognition) of a certain subject, your brain decides that it’s abstract and immediately switches to a more complex analytical pathway to make any sense of it.

The more difficult the recognition, the more the brain has to analyze and conceptualize. It can be quite intimidating while the brain interprets the puzzle. And an image with no context is a puzzle, for sure.

For example, if you’ve never seen a fishing fly, you have no way to describe this “thing.” That tuft of feathers on a curvy thingy may be quite confusing to you. But show you that same fly in the mouth of a fish, and it becomes more clear what it is and what it’s supposed to do.

You now have the context necessary to discern the purpose of the fly, and your brain doesn’t have to analyze it as much. (You now know what my favorite hobby is!)

Even though confused by abstractions, our brains are extremely capable of conceptualizing and letting us imagine what that abstraction could be. In fact, some of us love puzzles. We prefer abstract art forms and shapes precisely because it stimulates our brains to conceptualize. It can be exciting to imagine something in a highly abstract painting or photograph that isn’t really there.

I recently had an amusing discussion with a gallery visitor about what she saw in a highly abstract painting hanging on the wall. She swore she saw a horse; pointing out its nose, and mane, and back. Of course, I didn’t see her horse, no matter how hard I tried. Her brain was working hard to make something appear out of an abstraction that she could recognize, and that was great fun for her!

Personally, I like some context in the images I make, such as a log cabin in the woods, or a beautiful sunrise over a quiet river, or even a landscape vista during the peak of Autumn. These are subjects that push the brain to recall peaceful, nostalgic feelings and conjure stories from my own memory (and yours). I think realistic, context-rich art pulls on the heart while abstract art pulls on the brain. And I’d rather have my images pull on the heart.

The featured image “Stones of Any Shape” is a slight departure from my normal style because of its abstraction. I’m using it here as an example of how context matters. There’s not much context here, is there? Just stones arranged in an interesting pattern. The image says nothing about how, where, or why the stones are arranged this way. Is it a road or walkway? A fence? A wall? How large are the stones? What color are they?

Don’t worry, though. Your brain will conceptualize whatever you want to see. And that’s completely okay.

Is it necessary to know those things to enjoy the image? Usually not. You can love a picture without context, it just means your brain has to pre-process it somehow before getting to the “love” part. The other side of this pre-processing situation can also lead to rejection if the context can’t be imagined readily. I have another article you may be interested in that explains the role of mystery in images to either compel a sense of “boring,” “interesting,” or “bizarre”… check it out here.

And when context doesn’t provide the answers we want, we can always let our brains conceptualize the answers that makes the most sense to us, and just have fun with it.

As you look at images online or in a gallery, ask yourself about their context. Is the context obvious or elusive? Starting with that one simple question can often lead to many more questions, and in the process you may learn something about yourself and strengthen your appreciation of art.

If you’d like to read more about how our brains interpret visual abstractions, I’d recommend this article from Salon.

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I first published this article in my newsletter “Under the Darkcloth” on May 26, 2017. To get these articles sent to you personally, just subscribe HERE.

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Until next week, please share this email with others who you think might enjoy it.
J.

Art, art appreciation, Expressive photography

Where do you go to get a bit of fantasy?

“Morning Stretch” — Old Oak plays a role on the salt marsh stage of the tidal Carolinas.

At times, we just need “something” else

21st Century life is terribly busy at work and around the house. It can be overwhelming at times, so we could use a bit of fantasy about now.

For some, that means starting that new book, or putting on the headphones and listening to music, or vegging out in front of the TV, or dreaming ourselves into that scene that hangs in the living room.

Where do you go to steal a bit of fantasy time?

Isn’t it awesome that we humans can turn to art when we need an attitude adjustment? Whether that’s literature, film, music, or still images, art has the ability to bring us back to a state of mind where we’d rather be; no….where we need to be. Art is a fantasy, and we all need a bit of fantasy from time to time.

Do you have art where you can get to it when you need it? Or do you have to run out and get a new book, or plan a visit to the theater, or visit an art show or gallery? Where in your home do you have that favorite landscape scene that always seems to bring you back to that better state of mind when you need it?

As a person who makes wall art, it is extremely gratifying when a collector of my work tells me about the difference it has made in their lives. Several of them have bought a large number of my scenes and placed them into their favorite spaces in their homes: the living room, family room, large center hallways, wherever they can go to sit and reminisce, or imagine, or just escape the busy world. Places close by where they love to go to enjoy some quiet time, to dream, or just enjoy some fantasy. These stories motivate me to keep doing what I do.

But it’s all worth the effort when someone decides to add our art to his/her personal collection; to help them create that special space where they can go to lose themselves when they need to.

Art, Expressive photography, Nature photography

The Romance of the Carolina Lowcountry

I didn’t know what to expect. But a wedding hosted by good friends in Charleston, SC was a welcomed opportunity to see a bit of South Carolina’s Lowcountry for the first time.

My wife and I did the things all the guidebooks tell you to do when visiting Charleston: we walked the streets (stop it, now!), visited the local plantations, ate great food, and took a carriage ride. But there was so much more I wanted to do, photographically speaking.

If you want to photograph Charleston, the best time is before 9 am. At 9, the parking meters become active and fill up pretty fast. Parking in Charleston is a challenge after that time. As it happens, early morning is also the best time to photograph Charleston, so you’re in luck. The summer sun came up around 6am, so I had plenty of time to photograph the city uncrowded.

Most of what I really wanted to see, though, happened out in the rural Lowcountry: salt marsh, spanish moss hanging from the old oaks, historic plantation gardens, and the ocean, of course.

Folly Beach

The Folly Beach pier is probably photographed as much as the Statue of Liberty. There aren’t many ways to depict this structure that haven’t been tried already. I happened to catch this scene just at sunrise, so I had good light. Using a slow shutter speed to soften the waves and really bring out a sense of motion was important to me, and I purposely timed the wave movements to reveal the wet sand reflecting the lights from the end of the pier (which was tricky using a 1 sec shutter speed). The reflection was important compositionally.

A visit to Magnolia Plantation. Here’s another big tourist attraction, but if you look closely there are really great treasures to be found. One of the most interesting sights I found at Magnolia Plantation were the cypress groves. “Lowcountry Cypress” is full of light and shadows. Near the center of the frame is what appears to be a circle caused by a large arching limb and its reflection in the river that perfectly frames the brighter visual destination downriver. Along our visual journey, large cypress trees full of rich details entertain us.

Magnolia Plantation along the Ashley River, SC — Lowcountry Cypress

Characteristic of the Live Oaks found in the Lowcountry are the huge limbs that like to arch close to the ground. Spanish moss seem to love these limbs, and you often find it just hanging out there. The path is clear, under the arching limbs, and it’s a walk we must take. Spanish moss is very delicate, and I rarely found it just hanging still. The slightest breeze would send it dancing about. I chose to capture that motion in “Lowcountry Walk” because that’s part of the story, isn’t it?

South Carolina Landing State Park

Long before there was a Charleston on the peninsula, there was a vibrant settlement across the Ashley River. It’s now a beautiful natural area with lots of large oaks and spanish moss. I got there late morning and the sun was already making it difficult to photograph, but I think I made the trip worthwhile. There was far too much green in this scene, so I did what I typically do when I find that situation: I shoot it in B&W and emphasize the shadows and penetrating sunlight.

Edisto Island and Botany Bay Plantation

By far the most interesting site I visited on this trip, and one I’ll definitely return to again. A nature photographer’s paradise, this old plantation site has been turned into a protected wildlife management area.

A 1/4 mile walk through the salt marsh takes you to one of the most interesting beaches I’ve ever seen, Botany Bay beach. As a WMA, there are heavy fines for taking shells from here, and the pebbly beach is therefore covered with them. Many of the shells are intact and large. You almost never see these on public beaches. So what do people do when they can’t take their beach trophies home? They hang them on the numerous dead trees that also cover the beach. On another day, I might have found that sufficiently interesting to photograph. But not that day. My eye caught this lone, dead tree just waiting for the inevitable: it was a story that had to be told.

One lone dead tree awaits its inevitable demise at the hands of the ocean. — “Inevitable” – One lone casualty awaits its inevitable demise at the hands of the ocean.

Also on Botany Bay are many dirt roads and trails. If you’ve been following me very long, you know I love tiny dirt roads. Perhaps it’s the relative solitude I find when traveling them, or maybe it’s that I really like driving at 15 mph. Doesn’t matter. What matters is that along one of these roads I found “Spanish Moss and a Palmetto.”

Botany Bay scene — “Spanish Moss and a Palmetto” – Botany Bay, Edisto Island

At first glance, this scene appears busy and chaotic, but the more you look, the simpler it gets. The main characters in this story are the soft, swaying moss bending slightly toward the right side of the frame, seemingly leading us to find this little Palmetto tree hiding in the shadows. You rarely see Palmettos in a shaded place like this, but there he/she is, seemingly content to be dominated by the oaks and a cloak of moss.

There remain a few buildings from the time when Botany Bay operated as a farming plantation. I love historic architecture. It’s easy for me to imagine the stories of those who occupied and/or worked in these old spaces, and I often find myself wondering about such things when I stumble upon them.

I didn’t know what this structure was when I found it on Botany Bay Plantation. Its highly decorated facade led me to believe that it must have been something special and probably close to the main manor, but I didn’t know. As it turns out, it was the icehouse: definitely special and definitely near a family dwelling, when it still stood. Now it sits alone in a clearing, surrounded by encroaching trees and the ubiquitous spanish moss.

Angel Oak

No visit to the Carolina Lowcountry would be complete without a visit to the Angel Oak on John’s Island, SC. Words that describe this particular lifeform include “magnificent,” “ancient,” and “Godly.” This old fellow has been sitting on this spot for 1500 years, and since healthy oaks never stop growing, that’s a long time to get really huge.

Most photographs you see of Angel Oak include the whole tree, often with a person standing next to it. That perspective makes one get very far away from the tree because it’s so big.

But the story I wanted to tell about Angel Oak was more intimate: The story of how Resurrection Ferns take rook on the ancient branches-life from life. How the past loss of a limb still reveals the scars from that loss. How its branches bend and turn as events during its long life forced new directions, much as events during our own lives do. And how, like old people, its skin is heavily furrowed and worn. I offer “Enduring Arms” and “Neverending” as examples of these intimate portrayals of Angel Oak.

"Enduring Arms" - Angel Oak, John's Island, SC — “Enduring Arms” -Angel Oak perspective

I hope this little travelogue has stimulated an interest in visiting the Carolina Lowcountry. The Lowcountry is much more than the city of Charleston.

Technical and Ordering Information: I captured these images using a 4×5 large format camera with either color (Kodak Ektar or Portra) or B&W (Ilford FP4) film, scanned the negatives to high resolution using my drum scanner, then artistically interpreted them.

Pigment prints on heavy cotton rag paper are available from 16×20 up to 32×40 inches, framed or unframed, with the surface varnished to provide protection and enhanced vibrancy and texture.

To order, go do Lowcountry photographs

Art, art appreciation, Expressive photography, science

Revelations about art and artists: Art can reduce stress…..or it can create it.

We know that art moves us emotionally. That’s its only purpose, really. But why do some of us respond to a piece of art in a positive way (“I love it!!), while others respond to the same artwork in a negative way (“….yuk…”)? Is it the artwork that makes us respond so differently, or is it something in us? The short answer is “yes.”

Let’s start with a story. Two boys are standing at a busy intersection with cars and busses zooming by. One of them stands at the curb edge, toes literally hanging over the curb, relishing the rush of turbulence as the vehicles pass. The other is ten steps back from the curb, subconsciously placing hands over his eyes, anxious and afraid to move an inch, eagerly waiting for the traffic light to demand that the chaos cease.

Such it is in life: some of us relish stress/adventure; some of us hate it and will avoid it at all costs. Most of us fall somewhere in the middle of the range, but it’s safe to say that most of us treat excessive stress as something we’d rather avoid than embrace. It’s not healthy to be stressed out all the time.

I worked in the healthcare industry for over 40 years, so I have a fair sense for the misery of disease and the ecstasy of healing. For years I’ve been intrigued by the research into the effects of art therapy (the act of making art) and art intervention (the act of viewing art) to speed recovery in patients suffering from a wide range of temporary illnesses and severe stress.

The beginnings of modern art-related healthcare goes back to Florence Nightingale, who is credited with the movement that led to placing artwork in hospitals as a way to improve healing. Nightingale wrote in her 1860 Notes for Nursing that “the beneficial effects of art was not only on the mind, but on the body as well.” Her beliefs have since been proven time and again in a number of scientific studies.

One consequence of those studies is something we see every day in our modern hospitals and medical clinics. What do you remember about your last visit to the doctor’s office? Do you remember the color of the walls and carpet, or do you remember the abundance of art on the walls? Most likely, it’s the art you remember.

We decorate our hospitals and clinics with art for a reason. Research shows that art improves not only mental but also physical well-being. It reduces length of hospital stays, reduces the need for certain medications like painkillers, reduces blood pressure, improves patients’ satisfaction with their treatment, and reduces the cost of healthcare. Being sick is very stressful, and art helps reduce the stress, which restores health.

Not all art is beneficial in reducing stress, however. Research has shown that some art reduces stress while other art actually enhances stress.

Different art styles and subjects generally evoke different feelings. A 2003 medical study by Ulrich and Gilpin showed that art having easily recognizable subjects (i.e., representational art) from nature tended to restore health in patients faster. Restorative art subjects include calm or slowly moving water, verdant foliage, flowers, landscapes having foreground openness, warming park-like scenes having sparse trees and grassy undercover, nonthreatening animals like birds and pastorals, and natural scenes having nostalgic cultural artifacts.

“Carter Shields Cabin” by J. Riley Stewart. A nostalgic homestead at the edge of a verdant forest and bathed in warming light.

Restorative subjects may appeal to those of us who are more like the kid standing well away from the busy curb, or who want to use art to create a space having calming, stress-free influences.

Just as some art calms and restores us, there are other styles of art that does just the opposite. Healthcare research suggests that patients exposed to non-representational images and images having negative icons responded negatively to treatment. Specifically, art that is ambiguous, surreal, or abstract tends to evoke strongly negative emotions in people already experiencing stress. Such art is more open to personal interpretation, and people who are already stressed tend to interpret the art as harmful, not helpful, to their states of health and mood.

Certain iconic shapes, forms, and tones can evoke fear, apprehension, and suspicion even if highly representational and realistic. For instance, images containing visual negative icons like dark, razor-sharp or jagged edges, or subjects that represent dangerous situations such as rapidly moving water, or fire, or cold icy scenes are often interpreted as ominous and even hair raising.

People whose nature it is to be more like the boy with his toes hanging over the edge of the curb, or those wishing to raise the level of excitement and tension in their favorite space might prefer artwork that is more abstract or visually ominous in style.

"Blackwater Falls at Full Force" by J. Riley Stewart. Torrential waters, deep shadows, and a heavy sense of gravity can emoke a sense of adventure and apprehension. — “Blackwater Falls at Full Force” by J. Riley Stewart. Abstract scenes having torrential waters, deep shadows, and a heavy sense of gravity can evoke a sense of adventure and excitement.

As a final point, researchers claim that people very often react to the same art differently depending on their current mood or underlying nature. We can expect stressed or stress-averse people to respond very positively to restorative, calming styles of art and negatively to abstract and visually ominous art. Expect people who are on a perpetual buzz and full of excitement to respond more positively to abstract art and visually ominous images.

So, are our responses to art due to the art itself or is it due to something in us? The answer is yes, it is both. Art is the original “interactive media,” and we should expect our responses to a certain style of art to change as our moods and natures change.

What we now know about art and how it affects our moods provides a compelling reason to consider how art might affect us in our own living and working spaces, doesn’t it? How do you feel about the art you have displayed in your favorite space? Does it calm you when you’re stressed? Does it bore you when you need a bit of excitement? Or is it just right? If not, perhaps you’ve changed.

Have a comment about this article or want to share your own experiences? Please leave a note below!

I’ll leave you with this reference if you’d like to read more about art in healthcare: https://www.healthdesign.org/chd/research/guide-evidence-based-art

Happy collecting!

Art, Expressive photography

A Study in Luminosity: What photographers can learn from other artists.

A visit to the National Gallery of Art in Washington DC yesterday inspired me to write about something that guides my own journey as an art photographer, and it comes from my favorite fine art painters.

Green River Cliffs, Wyoming by Thomas Moran

I’ve always had a powerful wonder-lust for the romantic, luminous landscape paintings from the 19th Century. While the romantics were busy at work in Europe, the luminism movement was underway by the Americans at the Hudson River School. Even as a kid, I remember being thoroughly captivated when looking at picture books of paintings by the luminists like Church, Moran, Bierstadt, and Durand: it was my secret pastime. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Luminism_%28American_art_style%29

Luminism refers to the dramatic portrayal of natural bright light in a scene, particularly in landscapes and seascapes, where it appears as if God created a huge spotlight to illuminate the subjects. Reflective surfaces like rivers, oceans, and pools often played a significant role in luminist’s paintings, as if to help scatter the light across the canvas.

Just as important is the luminist’s use of shadows. It’s the very quality of vast, open shadows that I really love and appreciate in works of the luminist style. Their shadows are full of life and details that draw me in to explore what’s going on–to be curious–and I’m never disappointed.

But It’s the interrelationship between shadows and brilliant lighting that create the overall emotional effects one gets from the art of the luminists. The luminists were masters in creating a sense of luminosity. Luminosity gives us hope in the knowing; it enlightens us. Dark shadows are sublime; making us wary and uncertain. Without the substantial areas of shadow, the intrigue and mystery would be lost, and without the brilliant lighting, the luminosity would fall apart. The interplay between the two are critically important to creating such strong emotions associated with the art of the luminists and romanticists.

In my own photography, I’m always looking for situations that remind me of the luminists. One of the main reasons I still use film to capture my images is because only film retains shadow details and textures at exposures that also retain delicate details in the highlights. As with luminist’s paintings, having in my photographs something to explore in both the shadows and well-lit subjects is important to my creating the feeling of luminosity and intrique, something that I find personally rewarding.

Happy collecting!

Jim

”The sun does magical things in the mountains. This scene along the Oxbow Bend of the Snake River surrendered to the magic and created a very real demonstration of that phrase in our National Anthem that we all know, but very few of us get to witness.” — Purple Mountains Majesty, copyright J Riley Stewart

“One Morning at Liberty Furnace” copyright J. Riley Stewart

Path to the Chapel, copyright J Riley Stewart

Note: The National Gallery of Art is an easy walk from the Archives metro station in Washington D.C. The Gallery is a national treasure not to be missed if you’re in the area. Admission is free. Open most days 10 am – 5 pm. There you will find one of the largest collections of paintings by artists of the Hudson River School. Besides thousands of other exhibits, they have a marvelous art book store.

Expressive photography, philosophy, techniques

Artistic License and “photoshopping”

Mount Moran reflection in the Ox Bow Snake River, WY — “Purple Mountains Majesty”

“…is that Photoshopped?” : One of the most commonly asked questions to photographers

To some people, it seems to matter how much enhancement (i.e., “photoshopping”) I do to my photographs. I thought I’d share my opinion on the topic of “photoshopping.”

The question itself is unique to photography. No one would ever consider asking a painter if their artwork reflected the true nature of the scene they painted, so why ask a photographer? What’s different about photography (more about that in a future article)?

In truth, I really don’t think it matters to most people who ask this question, I really don’t. I think most ask it out of interest only, or just to keep the conversation going. No matter how I answer this question, I believe the experience of seeing the image would be exactly the same: They either love it or they don’t.

Enhancement of photographs means different things to different people. Documentary publications like National Geographic set strict guidelines with which they expect their photographers to obey regarding photo-manipulation, or ‘photoshopping.’ On the other hand, images created solely for artistic purposes have no such limitations: Art photographers follow the ambiguous rule of ‘artistic license.’

“You don’t take a great photograph, you make it” Ansel Adams

I’m not a documentary photographer, and that’s the first thing I tell people who ask if I enhance my photographs. But I do believe the NatGeo guidelines are pretty sound. Going excessively beyond basic cropping or adjusting lighting and colors soon becomes ‘digital art’ and not photography. But that’s just my opinion; others have no such qualms about compositing several images together, or using filters and overlays to create their ‘photographs.’ That’s okay. It’s artistic license. But it’s not okay when we expect a photograph to be a documentation of something that happened, such as in photojournalism, when nothing could be further from the truth. You get my point, hopefully.

I personally believe my job as an artist is to create imagery that makes you want to engage in the scene, to feel something at an emotional level (e.g., nostalgia, introspection, fascination, awe, etc) and perhaps even step into the scene and do the types of things you like to do, such as explore, learn, or just chill out. To create an emotion, at the very least, visual art must have heart.

My camera, on the other hand, is entirely uncaring of your needs: it has no heart; no capacity to record emotion.

The hardest part of my job as an artist, then, is to translate what the camera records into a scene having the life and emotions that I felt at the time I took the picture. This nearly always means that I must enhance my images; or said another way, I must ‘fix’ them; I must put the heart back into them.

In my personal artwork, I try to limit enhancements to the point where I’ve corrected for my camera’s failings; to re-instill the emotions I felt at the time I took the picture. After all, if I dislike overly-enhanced photographs, I don’t think you will either, and I will have done a very poor job as an artist.

The truth is there are plenty of fantastically interesting subjects in our world that, if we have our eyes and hearts open to the experience, and happen to be there at the right time, would make a great photograph (or painting) even without much enhancement.

My featured photograph this month “Purple Mountains Majesty” is a good example. I had been standing in this spot for about an hour waiting for this exact second, not really knowing what I was waiting for. When the moment arrived, I absolutely loved how the warmth of the setting sun cast a glow over the upper mountains and reflected into the dead-calm river below. The mountain shadows and their reflections were a deep beautiful purple invoking an intense sense of comfort and peace. But it was a color my camera and film seemed to dismiss as unimportant. My camera failed to recognize how beautiful the color transitions in the sky were, going from exciting warmth near the sun to that calming lavender farther away.

When I interpreted this particular scene, I found that I had to bring back (i.e., “enhance”) the color and emotion I felt at the time, and yes, I did that using photoshop. As is usual for me, I removed nothing and I added nothing of a physical nature; I merely put the life back into the scene. After all, that’s my job!

Try to not to get hung up by an art photographer’s use of ‘photoshopping.’ Remember that cameras never come with a heart, so the artist must make up for that failing. If you must ask an artist if they “photoshop.” that’s okay, too. You’re not alone!