How it makes me feel

It has been a long time since I cared about how a photograph looks.  I care much more about a photograph makes me feel.  Now I am aware that the two things are related but bear with me on this.

A few years ago I took what I described at the time as a technically perfect photograph.  It was a photograph of some rocks in the sea.  It was exposed correctly with no blacked out shadows or blown highlights.  It had some nice points on interest along the rule of thirds line and it needed very few corrections in processing.

The composition worked for me but then composition is a personal choice so I only have my own view to go on.

Despite all of this the photograph left me a little cold.  I felt that as a digital photographer I had nothing really left to learn.  I knew my camera inside-out and could use it in the dark if necessary.  The photograph in question was arguably one of the best that I had taken.  The only way forward was to continue to hone the skills I had learned especially being able to see an image in a photographic way and to compose in a manner that made the viewer interested.  But I realised that I needed to continue to learn new things.  I wanted to continue to be inspired and to push the boundaries of what I could create.

So I bought a film camera and the learning experience started all over again.

My initial results were disappointing.  A lot of my images were very grainy and I realised that I had taken a huge step away from what I knew.  I also didn't have immediate results so the learning experience became quite skewed.  Shoot a whole roll of film.  Have it developed.  Realise two months later when I got the negatives that the photographs were rubbish...

 This became a real challenge.  I now understood that it was not simply a matter of transferring the technical knowledge I had from one medium to the other.  A lot of that knowledge was important but I needed something more than knowledge.

Of course, I was unbowed and persevered.

Failure is a strong master.  Failing at something that I was used to doing well was tough.  The easy thing to do is to give up - and I did - for a while.

The first thing that I did when I took a photograph with a digital camera was to look at the screen on the rear of my camera to see what I had taken.  You can not do this with a film camera and it became clear that this was causing me to fail.  It seems crazy but what I learned to do with my film cameras was to really take care of what I was seeing through the viewfinder when I was taking the photograph.

Simple really!

I began to pay a lot more attention to what I was seeing through the viewfinder and in particular to how it made me feel.  Occasionally, I would have a rush of excitement when I was particularly drawn to a scene in the viewfinder and that is when I realised the importance of the emotional reaction to my photographs.  If I don't have an emotional reaction now I do not take the photograph.  I'm sure there are lots of photographs that I miss, but I don't care.

Another important turning point for me was in learning to embrace the imperfection of film.  I used to strive for perfection and now I was embracing imperfection.  Some of my digital photographs felt cold and clinical whereas my film photographs were organic and warm.  This was enhanced once I started printing in the darkroom.  I could work with a negative to produce a print in a way that appealed to me.  There is an immense sense of contentment in producing a darkroom print that you are proud of.  I worked on contrast and the tones of my prints to hide or reveal details in the photograph.  I recalled the advice of great photographers who comment that it is not what is seen but what is unseen that is most important.  Sometimes what is unseen is outside the frame of the photograph.  Sometimes it lurks in the shadows.  Sometimes it lies in the individual grains that collectively make the photograph but does not manifest itself into a physical representation in the image.  In some way it lies just beneath the surface.  A good photograph tells you a story.  A great photograph only tells you part of the story.  The rest is up to you.

Because of all of this my photographs have become very personal reflections.  I do not photograph things that I hope that other people like (although I am delighted when they do).  I pour myself into a photograph and there is part of me in every single one of them.  Now, technical excellence is irrelevant.  What I strive for is emotion, some beautiful imperfection and a narrative that is personal both to me and, hopefully, to the viewer.

Peace and Light  - Darren

 

This feeling