Photography by numbers

click photo to enlarge

One of the tips I remember reading decades ago when I started out in photography was this: if you go to a place you've never been before and want to be sure of getting photographs of the "best" sights, go to a shop that sells postcards of the locality, buy some, and let them be your guide as to what to shoot and where to shoot it from. For someone who simply "collects" photographs and places it was good advice. But, if you were interested in making images that were the product of your own eye and mind, photographs where the subject is only part of the point of the shot, then it was very limiting advice, the result of which was not too different from painting by numbers.

Having said that, the shots that are sold as postcards are often taken from obvious and good vantage points, and frequently exhibit fine compositions. They should too, because they are usually the product of someone who makes his or her living from photography. Moreover, you can find yourself taking a shot that you subsequently see on a postcard simply because it presents itself so conspicuously. Such is the case with this photograph of Lincoln Cathedral seen from Castle Hill. The funnel of Georgian, Victorian and medieval buildings that lead to the fourteenth century Exchequer Gate (the arch of which one passes through to enter the cathedral precinct), together with the tall towers of the Norman and thirteenth century west end of the cathedral, make a satisfying composition. I've seen it reproduced in water colour by Peter de Wint, in oils and acrylic by contemporary artists, and in many photographs of the city.

Had I wanted a shot like the much reproduced images that one sees of this location I'd have waited until later in the day and year, when the sun was better illuminating the scene, when there was some blue sky, and there were more people in the foreground. As it was, I came upon it on a fairly dull, cold day in early March when the only person on view was a man giving out leaflets extolling the virtues of the meals at the local pub: he didn't seem to be getting many takers when we passed by.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 28mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/160
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Tips for better sunset photographs

click photos to enlarge

Like most photographers I'm easily seduced by a good sunset. However, over the years I've come to realise that, whilst achieving a mediocre or satisfactory photograph of a sunset is fairly easy, making a good one is actually quite difficult.

Photographing a sunset, in some ways, presents similar difficulties to photographing a fast-flowing river that tumbles over projecting rocks: the things that captivate our eyes don't necessarily translate well into a static, two dimensional image. In the case of the river we take our shot after being entranced by the sparkle of light on splashes, and the ever-moving swirls and rushes of light and dark on the surface, and then are disappointed by the lack of life in our resulting image. With sunsets the luminous quality of the light, the depth of colour, the subtle gradations of single colours, and the faster movement of nearer clouds across the face of more distant ones all encourage us to raise our cameras. But, as with running water, we can be frustrated by the flatness of the photograph.

I've come to realise that one or more of three things are required for a good sunset photograph. The first is a reflection of the sunset in water - in the sea, a river or a lake. I lived for twenty years near a west facing coast and was repeatedly impressed by the way in which such a reflection can multiply and transform the power of even a quite modest sunset. The second is that the sunset must have good qualities in terms of the depth of colour, the contrast across the sky, and the shape and consistency of the clouds. Every good sunset you look at repeats the magic of the first one that you ever saw, so a weak one with a sliver of colour against the horizon should usually be ignored, photographically speaking. The third thing that can make all the difference is an interesting (often silhouetted) shape on the land below. I've used piers  and breakwaters with the sea, but pools on the sand and mud are equally good. On land anything will do that acts as a hard foil to the soft sky.

Today's photographs show a sunset that I captured when driving home from a shopping expedition. The clouds above had a lovely, colourful, soft quality, those below a brooding darkness, and sandwiched between was some blue/cyan sky with vapour trails. Both images use the tower and short spire of Swineshead church as the ground interest. The portrait format shot was taken first from a greater distance, but I was happier with the nearer landscape format image that made more of the church's silhouette.

Two further points. Some modern cameras have a mode that allows you to enhance the colour of a sunset. Treat this with the contempt that it deserves and ignore it. A photograph of a sunset should be a celebration of the natural beauty of our world, not a technologically boosted image that ends up looking like an imagined Jurassic landscape minus the dinosaurs or an apocalyptic painting from the fevered mind of John Martin. And the second point? I've posted quite a few black and white photographs over the past several days, and I thought it was time for a splash of colour!

photographs and text (c) T. Boughen

First photo
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 119mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/160
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On