Portrait photography assignment

click photo to enlarge
In this blog I've always stressed my enjoyment of the fact that I can photograph what I want, when I want and how I want. In other words, that I am an enthusiast and not a professional photographer. However, I am not blind to the fact that the imperative of getting a good shot because you must, can be a strong driver in achieving high standards.

The other day, as I picked up my DSLR and lenses and set off on a portraiture assignment, I had an inkling (though only a tiny one) of what it might be like to work as a pro. I was on my way to secure some images to accompany a magazine article. What made this assignation somewhat different from that of the average professional was that it was for a small, not-for-profit, community magazine. Moreover, the subjects, despite their rather glamorous sounding names of Miss Hunny, Miss Nimbus and Miss Lemon, weren't models, starlets, celebrities or even, thank heavens, civic worthies; they were three hens. Rather fetching hens with striking plumage, but hens nonetheless. My task was to photograph each of the "ladies" so that their portraits could accompany a magazine article by their owner. It was entitled, "Tales from Cluckingham Palace", this being the very grand and delightfully silly name of their hen house.

There are predictable problems when it comes to photographing hens. The first is that they don't respond well to instruction; in fact, they don't respond at all. Then there's the heads that rarely stop jerking backwards and forwards. In fact, even when the body is still the head moves! And finally there is their size - small - and the type of abode in which they live - muddy - with "deposits" liberally scattered about in the environment in which you have to crouch with your camera. However, like a true pro I went about my task determinedly, fired off a dozen or so shots, and was pleased that I was using a relatively high megapixel count camera so that I could crop out the intruding tail feathers, wire netting, wooden ramp etc. I went away confident that I'd got what I needed for the article. Miss Nimbus is for me, the best of this avian bunch photographically speaking, so I'll only inflict her on you as evidence of my travails and my success.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon 5DMk2
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 282mm
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/320
ISO: 800
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

The beauty and utility of feathers

click photo to enlarge
In the not too distant past the feathers of domestic birds such as hens, ducks and geese were highly prized. In fact, those of certain wild birds were too. I remember, as a teenager, watching one of my uncles use the blue wing feathers of a jay to make a fishing fly. He also used pheasant wings as a brush-like utensil to keep the hearth in front of an open fire clear of the ash and soot that fell from the logs, and the blue-green feathers of the mallard's speculum in the band of his hat.

Birds are no longer driven to the edge of extinction by the desire for feathers for fashionable clothing, but there is still a small market for items that use their insulating qualities. However, the downy feathers of geese and ducks used to be much more widely used for stuffing cushions, pillows and the eiderdowns that topped beds in cold weather. On the Furness peninsula and the Northumbrian coast the feathers of wild eider ducks were carefully "harvested" from nests for the purpose of filling this much-valued article of bedding. Elsewhere it was domestic breeds or wild mallard, teal, wigeon etc that were pressed into service. In the Fens of Lincolnshire and in other suitably watery areas such as the Norfolk Broads, the Cheshire meres or the Somerset Levels, purpose-made duck decoys were used to trap wild ducks. The birds were eaten and the feathers used as described above.

At the bottom of the list of desirable species from which to gather feathers was the domestic hen. Their feathers were used, but not so prized as those of the eider or geese. The other day I photographed one of my neighbour's hens, a bird that has what look to be very soft, grey feathers that are quite subtly but attractively marked. I've always been fascinated by the beauty of birds' feathers and collected them as a child. My "collecting" these days is done with a camera. Today's photograph is, I think, the fourth photograph of beautifully marked hens feathers that I've posted on the blog. One shows two images of contrasting cockerel feathers. A second has bright orange feathers contrasting with iridescent green, and the final example illustrates the rich, but more subdued colours that some cockerels display. I've also posted one featuring teal feathers.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Auto
Focal Length: 37.1mm (100mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f4.9
Shutter Speed: 1/125
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Our fine feathered friends

click photos to enlarge
Ever since the time when, as a young boy, I put a telescope and a pair of binoculars to my eyes and had revealed before me the beauty of the feathers of birds, I have taken an interest in their plumage. Most people notice the showy feathers of large birds, those kept in cages and farmyard species - peacocks, parrots, guinea fowl and the like. But fewer see the sometimes subtler (though occasionally dazzling) colours of our native species.

An early favourite for me was the much maligned starling (Sturnus vulgaris), often dismissed as a "black" bird, but close-up its summer plumage an iridescent metallic green and violet sheen with bright yellowish "stars". I also had a soft spot for the lapwing (Vanellus vanellus). At a distance this bird appears black and white, though the chestnt brown under its rear body is sometimes visible. However, through binoculars the dark back is revealed to be a fine green and purple iridescence that contrasts beautifully with the bold, black facial markings. The plumage of the male pheasant (Phasianus colchicus) also pleased me. I liked the way the green head (sometimes with a white neck ring) contrasted with the red wattles, and the brown/orange/gold hues of the body were flecked with dark, scale-like markings. Smaller birds such as the grey wagtail (Motacilla flava), the chaffinch (Fringilla coelebs) and the blue tit (Parus caeruleus) were also favourites. As I grew older, however, I began to appreciate the more subtle hues of birds such as the wheatear (Oenanthe oenanthe), the fieldfare (Turdus pilaris) and the woodcock (Scolopax rusticola).

Today, it seems, my taste has returned to the brighter colours of the larger birds. Or so it would appear looking at today's photographs and other images that I have posted of cockerel feathers - see here and here. Except that I haven't and these feathers are as much about what I am able to photograph well given the lenses I own as the plumage that I like. These particular cockerel and hen feathers appealed for the shapes they made as well as the lovely colour combinations that they offered.

photographs and text (c) T. Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 300mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/250
ISO: 800
Exposure Compensation:  -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On