ransitions between dark and light, the end of the day and daylight is what I look for. Sometimes I’ll wait for that time rather than burn myself out shooting daylight pictures which I’ll never even look at after the fact.
It’s the light. It always the light. For me transitional light is the best light. Dawn or dusk. It doesn’t matter, but I have trouble getting up for dawn light.
As Bart Simpson said, “There’s a five o’clock in the morning? When did they start that?”
This is a dusk picture. It what was made during the blue hour while what was left of the day’s sunlight was reflecting off of the cloud.
In nature’s way, the orange and blue contrast very nicely. It’s no wonder that designers have been using that combination for years. Being a sometimes New Yorker, I think of The New York Mets.
Let’s not go too far down that track because I was born to be a Yankee fan, but blue and white is boring to me.
It’s really about light and color. That is photography, no matter what or who the subject happens to be. Find a subject can be fairly easy. Finding the patience waiting for the light to be right is hard. Very hard.
I used to know a photographer who worked for National Geographic Magazine. He find the place where he wanted to work. He’d set up camp and he would sit. And sit. And sit.
When the light was right he’d wake himself and expose maybe twenty rolls of film and then, finally, he was done with that scene.
Do you have that kind of patience? Well, do you?
aking this picture was harder than you’d think. I exposed for the clouds which plugged up the tree.
It’s still pluggy because in order to bring up the clouds I had to darken the entire image.
When I lightened the image a little and now you can see the overly light area in the center. I could have done a couple of other approaches.
But, as you know, I’m lazy. So, what remains is what remains.
I darkened the edges of the picture a little to make it look old school burning and dodging. The kind that you did in a wet darkroom.
And, that’s it.
I’d tell you about working in a darkroom. I’d tell you about the peace it brought sometimes. I’d tell you about the smells. I’d tell you what it was like to watch a photograph come up in the developer. And, how we fine tuned little bits of the unfinished print.
I’d tell you that whenever I get a chance to just walk into one that it feels like I’m visiting a dear old friend.