Shutterfinger

What I've Been Doing Since My Last Post

I know: I said I was calling it quits to blogging, but I just can’t help making one or two more posts. After all, the street photography book that was one of the main reasons I stopped blogging was just published in late May. Since I mentioned Shutterfinger in the book and related promotional efforts, I’d be remiss if I didn’t at least mention the book here.

 The book’s title is “Street Photography: The Art of Capturing the Candid Moment,” published by Rocky Nook. The list price for the print version is $29.95, with an e-book version available for $19.95. You should be able to find either one on Amazon for less or, if you prefer, you can visit Rocky Nook’s website or a physical bookstore. If you'd to support my past and present efforts, I encourage you to buy a copy, if you haven’t already.

You may also be interested in a podcast I did with Derrick Story of The Digital Story. The topic was “Street Photography Ethics”—something I wrote about in the book but explored more fully in the podcast. I participated in a similar discussion of style in street photography, which should appear soon on Valeria Jardin’s Street Focus podcast, hosted on the This Week in Photo website.

Your feedback on any and all of these will be welcome here in the comments section. In the meantime, my next big adventure will a two-week trip to Ghana; specifically Lolito, a small town in the Upper Volta region. My family and I will be helping with renovations and upgrades to the local school. I plan to document our efforts via video and stills. Who knows? I may even post the results here on Shutterfinger.

Is This The Last of Shutterfinger?

Nothing in this world lasts forever my friends, including Shutterfinger. This is to confirm that I've decided to lay it down, give it a rest, cease and desist, or in other words stop posting. I'd like to express my sincere appreciation to all of you who have supported me throughout the years, either through donations, comments, suggestions, encouragement, or just quiet readership. It's not something I take for granted.

If you're wondering why, here are my main reasons, in no particular order:

1. I've accomplished everything I set out to do. I've had the chance to share my photographs along with what I know and what I've learned. One or two of my posts have gone viral. Readers have contributed positive and supportive comments. Some have even tossed a few bucks in my tip jar from time to time. It's been fun.
   
   
2. There's not much incentive to continue. I've never been in it for the money, so there's no financial loss to stopping. If I ever feel the urge to express myself I can contribute as a guest blogger on one of the more popular photo blogs and without the pressure of regular upkeep.
   
   
3. The Internet is awash with photo blogs. This is a good thing if you like reading photo blogs. There are plenty to choose from and practically all are free. It's not such a great thing if you're a photo blogger though, because it's hard to gain a readership and then once you gain one it's hard to maintain. Suffice it say that even if some of you are sad to see me go, you'll have plenty of other excellent blogs to choose from.
   
   
4. I have other things I'd rather do. I'll keep shooting, needless to say. I'll also spend more time practicing and improving my guitar skills. Guitars are more fun and provide more satisfaction than cameras at this stage in my life.

This site will remain up for at least several more months for the benefit of anyone who happens to stumble on it or anyone who wants to browse the archives one last time. Anyone who wants to contact me can send a comment or e-mail me. You can find my e-mail address by visiting my Shutterfinger photo portfolio on Zenfolio.

If you have a particular interest in street photography, want me to notify you when my upcoming book is published, or are interested in buying a print or two, send me your e-mail address. I promise I won't spam you, add you to a mailing list, or give or sell your address to anyone else. In the meantime, here are a few farewell photos. I hope you like them. This may be the last post you read on Shutterfinger but it won't be the last you hear of Gordon Lewis (I hope). In the meantime, here's wishing you a restful holiday season and a joyous New Year.

 

 

How to Take Portaits to the Next Level

This is pretty close to how the original, unprocessed Raw image looked. I just reduced the clarity (microcontrast) and color saturation a bit. Most of his expressions looked like this one. He's actually a very amiable and thoughtful young man who was trying to look "hard" for the camera. Canon EOS 60D with 85mm f/1.8 EF at f/11.

Portraits are the sort of thing that, once you've mastered the basic technique--which isn't particularly difficult as techniques go--the challenge becomes less about getting a portrait that's in focus and well lit and more about producing a portrait that has staying power. By "staying power" I mean an image's ability to maintain a viewer's interest over repeated viewings.

It's harder to do than you might think. The average portrait looks like the ones we see in countless school and college yearbooks: competent but generic and unimaginative. A great portait, on the other hand, offers insight into the subject's personality and state of mind even if you've never met them and don't know who they are.

I can't claim to have any exclusive secrets to achieving great portraits every time. I can, however, offer a few tips you may find helpful:

1. Pay attention to your subject.

Many photographers focus far too much on their lighting and not enough on their subject. A subject who senses this will naturally tend to withdraw or become bored or annoyed. Keep your lighting simple and flexible enough that your subject is the center of attention.

2. Connect

There's more to paying attention than simply staring at someone. You should try to observe and intuit how they feel. Are they nervous, insecure, distracted, fearful? Are they trying to project a certain image? Think about what you actually see in front you rather than what you or your subject might like to see. It could make for a far better portrait than what you originally had in mind.

3. Lure rather than chase.

Rather than try to manipulate and coax your subject into making a particular type of expression or pose, try to opposite approach: Calmly wait for them to let their guard down and make an expression or gesture that is characteristically their own. It may be the subtle shift of an eyebrow or a tilt of the head. If you're paying attention you'll know it when you see it and you'll release the shutter the instant you do.

4. Post-process to enhance, not exaggerate.

Chances are that even if you have your lighting and camera set up perfectly, you'll have to post-process your final picks to adjust their clarity, sharpness, color, and tonality. With portraits of females you'll generally want to "take the edge off" by muting the contrast and color saturation and smoothing out skin blemishes. You'll want to do the opposite with men. Take it easy though: If you go too far in either direction your subjects will either look plastic or as if they were hewn out of granite.

Here's a whole 'nother look, this time with Lightroom's "Old Polaroid" preset. I think it over-emphasizes contrast and imperfections in his skin.

Whole books have been written on the subject of portraiture, so the list above is by no means all you need to know. It will make your portraits better though; that, and needless to say, plenty of practice.

  Here's my personal favorite. Black and white adds a richness without over-emphasizing blemishes and blotchiness.

 

Autumn Sunlight

Curb outside airport, Grand Rapids, MI

I don't know what the sunlight in early autumn looks in other parts of the U.S. or in other countries, but here in Philadelphia it's gorgeous, at least for the time-being. The humidity of summer has dropped, which clears the air and allows the normal crispness of direct sunlight to enhance textures and enhance contrast. Because the sun is lower in the sky, shadows are bolder and there are more opportunities for dramatic backlighting. Earlier sunsets allow you to take twilight and evening shots without having to wait until after 8:00 p.m. 

I imagine that one could see a difference in the light even in chronically overcast climes. Those of you who who have first-hand experience should feel free enlighten me (pun intended). In the meantime, here are some examples of what I'm talking about. Perhaps they will inspire you to venture out into the autumn sunlight and get some memorable shots of your own.

Stairsteps, Jenkintown, PA

SEPTA Exit, Philadelphia, PA

Steaming Sidewalk, 17th & Chestnut, Philadelphia, PA

What I Shoot With and Why

Canon ESO 60D, 35mm f/2 EF, ISO 200

I've used a lot of different cameras since I began this humble blog. Some I still use; others I've sold, or still own but don't use. The list of those I've used the most so far includes:

Nikon FM3A (own but seldom use)
Olympus OM-1 (own but seldom use)
Canon EOS F-1n (own but seldom use)
Canon EOS 30D (sold)
Olympus E-520 (sold)
Pentax K5 (returned to Pentax)
Canon EOS 7D (returned to Canon)
Canon 5D Mark III (returned to Canon)
Nikon D7000 (sold)

This doesn't include cameras I've used for a week or less because of an assignment, a user review, or general curiosity. As you can see, I favor mid-range cameras; those that are somewhere between the smallest and largest and between the most and least expensive. I suspect most readers of this blog have similar tastes, which is why you may be interested to know what I'm using now and why.

Nikon V1, Nikkor 10-30mm f/3.5-5.6, ISO 400

At present, 90% of my work is done with a Canon EOS 60D and a Nikon V1. I bought the 60D to replace the Nikon D7000, which I was never able to get to focus consistently and reliably. (This was my personal experience. I've only used one D7000 and have no idea if this problem is widespread.) Aside from the focusing issue, my main reason for buying the 60D was so I could use the four Canon EF lenses I still own and rent practically any other lens I might need. Even though I seldom take on pro assignments these days, I still want to be able to should the need arise. The EOS 60D also allows me to shoot with portable and studio flash units. This is something the Nikon V1 can't do.

Because of its size and weight, the 60D is my preferred rig for shooting at home, when portability isn't an issue. That said, the 60D with a 28mm f/2.8 EF is still small and light enough to carry all day on a wrist strap or in a small shoulder bag. Because I don't own any Canon lenses slower than f/2.8 and the 60D has a much larger sensor than the V1, the 60D is also better for available light shooting without flash. Fast lenses reduce the need to shoot at absurdly high ISOs and then complain about the results.

Nikon V1, Nikkor 18.5mm f/1.8, ISO 400

The Nikon V1 is my "everyday-carry camera." I was initially attracted to it because of its small size,  low weight, and sturdiness, which make it perfect for travel, outdoor family activities, or an afternoon of street photograpy. Interchangeable lenses and a built-in eyelevel viewfinder made it even more attractive. What sealed the deal was its lightning fast, amazingly accurate focus and above-average metering accuracy. I know some photographers are put off by the V1's smaller sensor, but to my mind these folks aren't much different from film photographers who lugged around Hasselblads because 35mm cameras produced "inferior results." Either you appreciate the small camera esthetic or you don't. I do.

Canon EOS 60D, 28mm f/2.8 EF, ISO 100

All in all, these two cameras cover enough bases for me that I have little need or interest in buying anything else--mainly because the extra money spent wouldn't result in enough more image quality or convenience to make it worth the cost. If your situation is anything like mine (more than enough good cameras, not enough time), this could explain why camera sales have slowed considerably over the past six months. What about you? Do you have enough cameras? If not, will you ever?

 

What Is the Right Way to Render RAW?

Here's how Adobe Lightroom 4 renders this Canon EOS 60D image when the Camera Calibration is set to Process: 2012 (Current) and Profile: Adobe Standard. These are the default settings, but they are not your only options.

Anyone who shoots RAW images rather than JPEGs should know that RAW is exactly that: It’s the raw image data recorded as it comes off of the image sensor. Because it’s data, you can never actually see a RAW image. It first has to be interpreted, converted, and rendered as a screen image based on what the designer of the RAW converter thinks is the most useful starting point based on the characteristics of your image sensor.

If you set your camera to JPEG, the RAW converter in your camera will interpret the data, render it a certain way, and save the results as a JPEG. There are countless ways raw data can be rendered, which is why today’s digital cameras offer choices that begin with “faithful,” “standard,” and “vivid,” and extend into so-called art filters that produce effects such as sepia tone, cross-processing, toy camera, etc.

Here's how the same image would look if I changed the Lightroom default to Profile: Camera Portrait. Notice the improvement in the warm tones of the violin and the violinist?

And here's how it would look if I used the same Portrait profile but with Canon's RAW converter, Digital Photo Professional, instead. It's close, but not the same. Which do you prefer?

 You can do all this and more with a RAW converter, presets, and plugins that produce specialized renderings of their own. Regardless, the basic question you should ask yourself is whether your RAW converter’s default rendering is right for you and, if not, what you should change it to. (Jeep in mind that I’m referring to default renderings here, not presets that give your images a film look, a weathered look, heightened vignetting, or whatever.)

This is important enough to some photographers that they choose their RAW conversion software as carefully, if not more, as they do their cameras, lenses, and computers. Just as electric guitarists sample various amplifiers and tweak the knobs until they find a tone that’s most pleasing to their ear, the best digital photographers play around with their software’s basic rendering options until they find the one that’s initially most pleasing to their eye.

This is the final image after I adjusted the tone curve, clarity, and sharpening to my liking. It's a lot closer to the Portrait default renderings and therefore would have been more time consuming to achieve if I had started with the Adobe Standard default at the top of the page.

You should do the same. It can be the difference between a default rendering that’s flat and dull and one that gets you off to a good start. A visually appealing default rendering can also save you the time of performing the same tweaks to individual images after every import.

In case you're wondering what menu I'm referring to, here's a screen capture. You'll find it under Develop > Camera Calibration in the right-hand toolbar.

As you can see from my examples, the defaults I use are relatively subtle. That doesn’t mean yours have to be. You’re free to use more punchy defaults or even flatter ones if you prefer. Just remember that your default rendering is your starting point, not your ultimate destination. The more image detail you begin with, the better you can decide what to change and where.

 

It Ain't What You Play, It's What You Play

I knew how I wanted this portrait to look before I shot it, so I used the right camera and lens to produce the result I wanted. Without a clear sense of what I wanted, I would get an image like this only by accident, if I got it at all.

Years ago, when I got serious about learning to play the guitar, I decided to take fingerpicking lessons at McCabe's Guitar Shop in Santa Monica, California. McCabe's was and still is something of a mecca for acoustic guitarists. Classes were held in the main guitar showroom, lined with wood paneling and guitars of every brand and type. The showroom also had a small stage that allowed it to function during weekend evenings as a venue for small acoustic acts.

The first class began with us all seated in a circle, guitars in hand, introducing ourselves and explaining what we hoped to get out of the class. In my case, I had my eyes on a Martin 000-16, small-waisted, with a well-balanced tone perfect for fingerstyle playing. The Martin had a solid mahogany back and sides and a solid spruce top. I certainly wanted to play better, but I was sure I would also sound better if I owned a better guitar. I said all this while holding the guitar I actually owned, a cheap but sturdy Yamaha dreadnaught constructed of plywood.

The instructor was David Zeitlin, a stocky, gray-haired, jovial fellow in his mid-60s. David asked if he could play my guitar to evaluate it for himself. I handed it over, he tweaked the tuning a bit, then started playing a ragtime blues. I could hardly believe my ears. The tone and dynamic range were astonishing. It was as if he was playing a completely different guitar. David must have seen the incredulous look on my face, because when he handed it back, he said, "Listen man, it ain't what you play (he pointed to my guitar), it's what you play (he mimicked playing a guitar)." In other words, it was more important to be an excellent guitarist than to own an excellent guitar.

And now, for something completely different. I could have gotten this with practically any decent camera, including the one in an iPhone. The important thing was to see the picture and have a camera on hand, which in this case was a Nikon V1.

You can probably tell by now where I'm going with this: It's more important to be an excellent photographer who knows how to express himself or herself with a camera than to own an excellent camera and have nothing of significance to express with it. It's especially true these days, when impressively good cameras and lenses (and guitars, for that matter) can be had for almost nothing.

This doesn't mean that the camera and lenses you use is of no significance. You're likely to use a small, lightweight, 12 megapixel camera much differently than you'd a big, sturdy camera that produces 36MP files. What I'm saying is that if you have no real goal, purpose, or vision to your photography, the results will be the same no matter what you use: boring images.

So use whatever you like. Use whatever you want. Just use it. Use it until it becomes like an extension of your mind, eye, and arm. Use it until it has no choice but to bend to your will; to do  what you want it to, and to the absolute limit of its abilities.

The process goes both ways. You will adapt as much to your camera's limitations as its capabilities--and that's okay, because there's no such thing as a perfect camera; there are just cameras whose limitations are irrelevant to what you're using it for. To paraphrase the title of this post, "It ain't what you shoot with, it's what you shoot."

Get a Grip

This is how I carry my Nikon V1. The Flipbac grip makes this already lightweight camera even easier to carry with a wrist strap. I covered the printing on the front of the camera with matte black tape to make the V1 look even more nondescript than it already is.

It was accepted wisdom at one time that if you carried a camera at all, you would use a neck strap to do it. A neck strap was and still is something that comes with every camera large enough to prevent being carried in a pocket or purse. There is good reason for this. A neck strap is undeniably convenient. You can sling the camera around your neck, over your shoulder, or across your body, leaving both hands free to do something other than carry your camera.

Neck straps have drawbacks, however. They cause the entire weight of your camera and lens to press down on your neck or shoulder, which can not only be uncomfortable, but often painful and harmful over time, especially when you're also carrying a camera bag with a shoulder strap. If you bend your body too quickly with a camera around your neck, said camera may swing like a pendulum and stop only when it strikes an inanimate object. If the strap doesn't have enough grip to it, it can slide off your shoulder, taking your camera along with it. Straps also have a disconcerting tendency to catch on objects such as doorknobs, tripods, and drawer pulls. If you're not careful or aware, this can cause the object, the camera, or both to crash to the floor.

I'm not saying these problems are epidemic, but they're common enough that a subset of photographers (me among them), prefers to carry their cameras with a wrist strap instead. A wrist strap takes the weight off of your neck and shoulder and transfers it to your right hand. Most reasonably fit people can comfortably carry two to five pounds of camera+lens in their right hand for extended periods of time. Yes, it means your hand is now occupied, but if you're actively shooting anyway, what's the problem? I carry a small shoulder bag or fanny pack  I can put the camera into when I need to free up my hands.

A properly designed wrist strap is not so thin that it cuts into your wrist yet not so wide that it becomes stiff or bulky. It can attach to your camera's tripod socket, quick-release tripod plate, or lens strap lug. I prefer the latter because the camera usually hangs and balances better that way. It's also more secure. When the strap is attached via the tripod socket, the camera will hang upside-down whenever you're not actually gripping it, and there's the risk that the mounting screw could come loose.

The best cameras for wrist-strap carry are those that have a built-in hand grip. Any grip is better than no grip at all. Without a grip you have to use finger pressure alone to hold onto the camera. This gets tiring, especially with larger, heavier cameras or those with smooth, low-friction coverings. With a grip, your camera has a comfortable "lip" for your fingertips to hang onto and more gripping surface for added security.

By coincidence, I can use the same Flipbac grip on my Nikon FM3A film camera. Even when I'm using it with a neck strap, the accessory grip allows for a much more secure and comfortable hold.

What do you if your camera has no such grip? One popular option is an accessory grip. Some camera manufacturers offer grips that mount onto the base of the camera. Other third party companies, such as Richard Franiac or Flipbac, offer grips with an adhesive backing that you can attach to a wide variety of cameras. As you can see from the accompanying photos, I was able to use the same Flipbac grip on my Nikon V1 and FM3A. The wrist strap, in case you're curious, was hand-made by Gordy's camera straps. Hey, with a name like Gordy, it has to be good.

Irony Around Us

Every time I explore the side streets and back roads of this country of ours I notice things that strike me as, well... odd; and not necessarily because they were intended that way. A lot of this obviously has to do with my own perception. After all, if you think something is odd it's because it doesn't conform to a certain preconception you have. I, for example, don't generally expect to see an iron gate barring the door to a windowless church--or is the gate there to keep the members in?

This was shot a few blocks away from LAX, hence the plane in the background. I still wonder whether this was a place for people who wanted to shop in the nude or for people who wanted to shop for nudes.

Something tells me this former used car dealer in Oklahama City doesn't finance much of anything anymore.

My suggestion for this week is that if you see something that triggers a similar reaction, such as amusement, puzzlement, or even disdain, photograph it. You're likely to get far better results in the long run than if you photograph something simply because it's "pretty," or a famous landmark, or worse yet, just there. It's only when you take the risk of expressing your true impressions of the word around you that you open yourself to the possibility of attracting people who are genuinely interested in what you want to say.

Bagging It

How's this for coincidence: I had just finished a lengthy article this morning on how to choose the right camera bag for travel and I was about to post it when, lo and behold, I discovered that another photo blog, The Online Photographer, had posted an article on the exact same topic.I could still post my article, of course, but I won't. There's enough overlap between their readership and mine that my article is now redundant, if not pointless.

I'm not upset about it though. There are only so many photography-related topics to write about. With hundreds of photo blogs to choose from these days, it's inevitable that there will be some overlap. It does make me wonder, though, what value Shutterfinger offers in this crowded space. Is there anything I can say that hasn't been said before; anything I can do that hasn't been done before?

Forgive me for answering my own questions, but yes. I recently signed a contract with Rocky Nook to write a how-to book on street photography. Although there are many books that feature collections of street photography, I haven't seen any that are about the whys and hows of it. That means mine will be the first. It's going to take several months of writing, over and above the 40 hours of writing I do every week. Fortunately, I have over 30 years of photos to draw from, not including examples from other street photographers.

That may mean even less frequent posts. It may mean no posts at all; I'm just not sure. What I am sure of is that I appreciate the support I've received over the years and the fabulous photographers I've met, if only through your comments. This is not necessarily goodbye, just me explaining why you may be seeing a lot less of me. In the meantime, here are a few more photos from the growing Shutterfinger archives. I hope you enjoy looking at them as much as I enjoyed shooting them.