Sunday, February 15, 2009

perspective in landscape photography


Ever wonder why your landscape photograph doesn’t have the same visual impact as the scene you remember seeing live & in person? It might be because you didn’t take into account the element of perspective. A photographer needs to understand how perspective works and how to use it to plan a composition that creates the illusion of depth.

In photography, perspective gives the impression of three-dimensional depth and distance in an image. As landscape photographers, we have to work at creating this impression because while we naturally view a scene in 3-D, photographs are a two-dimensional representation of that scene. Think of it this way: The world around us has real depth & distance, while a photograph is a representation on a flat surface (whether it’s a print or an image on a computer screen). In her book Creative Nature & Outdoor Photography, Brenda Tharp gets to the heart of the challenge we face as photographers when she says, “It’s all about translating a three-dimensional world into two dimensions while still expressing depth.”

A photographer has two major means of “creating” perspective. The first trick in our bag is to arrange a visually interesting composition that takes advantage of the spatial relation of objects. Most often, the best way to do this in landscape photography is to include some foreground interest in the shot. In the photograph at the top of this post, I didn’t just take a picture of Longs Peak & upper Glacier Gorge. I hunted along the shore of Mills Lake until I found this interesting boulder perched on the shore, and then I composed a shot that included the boulder, lake, and peaks. (Also notice how I composed the shot so that the lake makes a bit of an s-curve and therefore serves to lead the eye into the shot. I’ll talk more about that in a minute.) In the photo below, I had to do quite a bit of location searching before I found a spot where I could get some visually interesting foreground (houses) in the shot. I'd noted this general view a few times at sunset (silhouettes of skyscrapers & mountain ridgelines) and knew it would make for a dramatic shot in & of itself… but I also knew that if I found some interesting foreground to create an extra measure of depth & distance (near, middle, far), it would make the photo much more successful.


The second major way to create perspective in our photographs is to find some sort of converging lines that will lead the eye into the scene. Trails, roads, or (very visually pleasing) the s-curve of a stream or river all work well to achieve this effect, but any sort of line will do. In the top shot below, I had to search for quite a ways along the banks of the river before I found this pleasing s-curve. Notice how the eye follows the river into the shot, to the mountains in the distance. In the other shot, the eye naturally follows the trail into the shot, to the layered ridgelines.


Both of these compositional techniques require that you really think about how you’re putting together a shot, but if you take a little extra time to arrange compositions that include either foreground interest or converging lines, I think you’ll be very pleased with the results. Knowing (and utilizing) these tricks-of-the-trade will create perspective in your photos, and elevate your landscape shots to the next level.

Thanks for reading about stuff I’ve photographed. ~Rich

Thursday, February 5, 2009

the steeler nation

I’ve finally had to come to grips with the fact that I’m officially an expatriate member of the Steeler Nation. (expatriate: to leave one’s native country to live elsewhere)

My wife and I moved from western Pennsylvania to Colorado a little over a year ago, so this past Tuesday, while 350,ooo faithful descended on the capital of the Steeler Nation for a victory parade to welcome home the most storied and successful franchise in the NFL, I was heading to work in Denver. While those same Steelers faithful were bundled up against the wintry cold and the snow showers that day, it was 65 degrees & not a cloud in the sky here in the Mile High City. No, we’re not in Pittsburgh anymore, Toto.

Having lived in the very heartland of Steelers Country for so long, it came as a rude shock to move to a place where people actually root for another team. I have to give these folks in Colorado credit, they love their Broncos… but it seems as if all they have to hang onto are faded, past glories. The Steelers, on the other hand, have now won division, conference, and league championships in the 70s, 80s, 90s, and 2000s. Since 1969, the Steelers have had just three head coaches (Chuck Noll, Bill Cowher, and Mike Tomlin). Each of those coaches has won the Super Bowl. While other teams measure success in winning seasons, in Pittsburgh the standard is Lombardi Trophies.

Living in western PA, you hear about this thing called the Steeler Nation, but it never really clicks. Living in Steelers Country, where Pittsburgh’s fortunes on the gridiron are much more important than such trivial matters as life and death, it only seems natural that the whole world would be Steelers fans. But then you move away and you realize people do in fact root for other NFL teams, and so for you to be a Steelers fan is now not just a way of life, it’s a matter of pride. You become determined to make the corner of the world where you now reside into a small part of the Steeler Nation. You still wear your Steelers jersey out & about and still cherish the flag of the Steeler Nation: the Terrible Towel.

I should have known the Super Bowl was in the bag as soon as the mayor of Phoenix pretended to blow his nose with a Terrible Towel and then threw it on the ground. You don’t mess with the Towel and get away with it. Just ask the Bengals, the Ravens, or the Titans. The Terrible Towel has been to the summit of Mt Everest and proudly displayed on the international space station. Steelers fans in the armed forces have taken it with them to Iraq and Afghanistan. No matter where the Steelers play across the country, it’s a given that there will always be a few (or more) Terrible Towels waving in the stands.


I took my Terrible Towel to the top of 14,259-foot Longs Peak (the northernmost 14er in Colorado & the highest peak in Rocky Mountain National Park) with me this past summer. I’ll never forget the smiles and delight of the other people on the summit as I dug into my pack and broke out the Towel. To a Steelers fan, the Terrible Towel is much more than just a piece of cloth; it is the outward symbol of hearts that will bleed black & gold until the day we die.


I was really homesick during the exciting run up to Super Bowl XLIII. I would’ve given anything to be in Pittsburgh this past Tuesday for the victory parade. For now, I’ll have to be satisfied with being a proud member of the Steeler Nation. After bagging Longs Peak last year, I'm making it a goal to climb a couple more 14ers each year that we live here in Colorado… and the Terrible Towel is going along with me to the summit of each one!


Sunday, February 1, 2009

alpenglow


It’s the last Saturday morning of January and I’m on my default setting: standing by my tripod, somewhere in Rocky Mountain National Park, waiting for sunrise. In this instance, I’m perched on a hillside below the Gem Lake Trail, marveling at the view of Longs Peak across the way… and please please please let there be some alpenglow along with the dawn’s early light.


I’ll let John Fielder (one of my favorite landscape photographers) explain alpenglow… In his book Mountain Ranges of Colorado, he says: “Of course, sunrise makes for the best photography, especially on clear days when the sun breaks the horizon at a very low angle over the Great Plains. Thanks to a property of physics that causes the Earth’s atmosphere to absorb, or make invisible, the ‘cool’ colors (blue, green, violet) in the spectrum of light, this low-lying sun turns peaks red.”


This phenomenon lasts only moments, but to view it in person here in the Front Range of the Rocky Mountains in Colorado is a wondrous, breathtaking experience. Well worth the rolling out of bed at an ungodly hour, the drive in the pre-dawn darkness, the hike by headlamp to just the right spot, and the waiting for sunrise on a cold hillside once you’ve arrived at just the right spot. As the light begins to paint the peaks, you can't help but think that life is very good indeed.


Thanks for reading about stuff I’ve photographed. ~Rich