Embracing Photography's "Offseason"

I overheard myself grousing to myself about the oppression of winter forcing an offseason upon my photography -- as it's dark, it's cold, and there is nothing good to shoot -- and longing for the world to turn so I could start in again with The Beast.

I took myself aback. Is winter really a forced offseason for my art? Where was the Quixotic spirit of optimism and determination in that bit of victimization? Perhaps my oppressor is not Mother Nature's icy demeanor but rather my own creative laziness and antisocial hobbitness?

Dang. Could this yearly rut be simply self imposed? But what of those barriers to winter photography?

It's dark! Dawn comes late and night falls fast these days, so my early morning prowls are done in the dark and it's still dark when I'm off to work or pitching clinic and already dark by the time I escape.

It's cold! At 15 below, or even 15 above, the romance of wandering "out and about" to find something fun to shoot fades fast in fear of frostbite as artistic patience becomes arctic pain amidst the wind and sleet.

There's nothing good to shoot! The lush landscape and blue sky have gone grey, the flowers are dead and buried, the zoos are closed, the bugs and bees are hybernating, there is very little roadkill, and indoor sports don't lend themselves to 1/640th at 5.6 ...

Wow, those are whiney! While there may be a glimmer of truth in each of the three, there is certainly nothing insurmountable -- especially if one were to maintain that nothing is insurmountable ... So what is it that truly drives the hesitation that keeps my eye from the lens?

Indoor photography has always felt a bit more intrusive and awkward to me. Nothing shatters the subtley of a moment like a flash. Plus, the proximity is sooooo much closer: it's far less conspicuous to wander onto a sideline than it is to wander into a room of people. All in all, I dread being a distraction at events and causing angst among my subjects or observers.

The solution? More creativity and less antisocial hobbitness, perhaps.

Seek out new activities to photograph: Last year, I "discovered" gymnastics and hockey and earlier this year I shot swimming/diving for the first time. I had to forgive the grain and allow some blur to get the images, but they've been fun. I should do more -- and what of skiing? Or wrestling? Or curling? Likewise, I took my first band gig photos earlier this year (here's Kendra from 'The Stray Dogs'). I should do more -- and what of theatre? Or ballet?

Seek out people who like to be photographed: Emily's photoshoot was fun because she wanted to be photographed and participated in creating each shot with poses and outfits and laughter -- perhaps there are others out there who enjoy being photographed and would be willing partners in creative settings as I experiment with an undeveloped aspect of my photography.

Think outside the house: Perhaps it is time I bundled up a bit and sought out some "Vermont in the winter" images ... both the classic blue sky beauty and the grey desolation ... maybe even some black & white work ... as, at very least, it would be an excuse for hot tang upon return ...

Hmmmm. Some interesting potentials there -- if I can get out of my own way!

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The Tinkers to Evers to Chance of Camera Shopping

As I stalk the planet http://thedonutrunsoapbox.blogspot.com/2008/08/lens-envy.html with my Nikon D300 (and it's trusty sidekick, the Manfrotto 682B), a number of folks have asked about cameras. It occurs to me there are three websites I recommend most everytime somebody asks -- so I thought I'd give them some public love out here ...

Ken Rockwell is a photographer who has seemingly shot with every camera out there and is not shy about sharing his opinion. I appreciated his research so much I sent him a paypal donation as I figured he saved me the cost of a couple photo magazines ... His overall recommendations are out at: http://www.kenrockwell.com/tech/recommended-cameras.htm

Digital Photography Review has an incredibly extensive collection of pretty objective reviews and comparisons of a huge array of cameras. Plus, they have forums for users of specific cameras so you can read real world thoughts on the ones you're interested in: http://www.dpreview.com/

I've had great luck buying cameras and gear from B&H Photo in New York City. Prices consistently on the low end of the really credible sources and I've never had a problem with an order. I have even had a successful exchange with them as I upgraded a 681B monopod I bought from them to the 682B. http://www.bhphotovideo.com/

You can always go the Consumer reports path, there are unending websites out there (Steves Digicams jumps to mind), and eBay is a fascinating wild fronteir of purchasing -- but the three I shared are rock solid in my opinion. I hope they prove as helpful to you as they have for me. Enjoy!

Lens Envy

There's nothing quite like the intoxicatingly drooly seduction of "lens envy" in action. Whether I'm standing on a sideline, sitting in a wedding pew, or attending a press conference, I tend to get distracted by lustful thoughts regarding someone's camera ... humminah!! ... Now, I know full well that God said "thou shall not covet thy neighbor's wife" -- but you'll notice there was no mention of "thy neighbor's lenses" ...

Granted, schwanky gear won't make you Ansel Adams, but it will make you smile ... and I'm grinning ear to ear. Why? Let's start at the beginning.

It started back in 1979 as a freshman in high school, with a Kowa SeTr 35 mm camera with a 5omm 1.9 lens and a 135 4.0 telephoto lens. The Kowa was a great way to learn the basics of lighting and composition ... I bought it used out of the Free Press classifieds from someone who lived in an apartment on Pine Street in Burlington.

That gave way in 1981 to the incomperable Canon AE1-Program with a 50mm 1.8 lens, a 28mm 2.8 wide angle, and my signature 70-200mm 3.5 telephoto. The Canon got me through high school yearbook photography and photojournalism in college. Using a Bristol community grant (investing in the future of youth) I bought it from Abe's of Maine -- hey, who knew they didn't take out-of-state personal checks back in the days before credit cards? Dang. Nice drive, at least.

I loved shooting with the AE-1 Program ... Gradually, I started to get artistically lazy and transitioned into a decade of dabbling with a variety of point-n-shoot cameras, first film and then digital, as the kids grew. My workhorse during that time became of the Olympus D-490Z 2.1 megapixel digital camera with the equivalent of a 35-105mm zoom lens due to its compact convenience and immediate gratification (no more 1-hour photos ready in 7 hours).

In 2004, the artist in me stirred as I came upon a digital SLR-like Minolta A-1, with a 28-200mm 1:2.8-3.5 lens ... 5 megapixels, tilting viewfinder, articulating lcd screen, fast focus and little shutter lag, and a remarkable (back in the day) anti-shake mechanism. It had full manual controls as well as (my beloved for sports) aperature priority. I bought it over the internet from B&H Photo in New York City. Having manual control again reawakened my love for photography and www.pbase.com/donutrun was born.

Unfortunately, as I was shooting that beautiful quirky camera into the ground, Minolta was selling out to Konica and Sony. By the time I had literally worn it out, they only had A200's to give me in its place. The A200 had the same 1:2.8-3.5 lens and was a step up to 8mp, but it was slower and regretfully consumerized -- lacking many of the charming quirks of the A1. The A200 served its purpose and my travelogue approach to life continued -- but lens envy eventually set in and I set my sights on a digital SLR as I was in the process of wearing out the A200 like the A1 before it.

After five months of research and five weeks of serious stalking, and just as the antishake mechanism on the A200 began to go, I decided on the Nikon D300 and again turned to B&H Photo (at http://www.bandhphoto.com/) . It wasn't an easy choice. I looked hard at the Canon 40D (AE1-P legacy, lots of local use), the Nikon D80 (had shot with one courtesy of the ad agency I use), and the Olympus E3 (had the articulating lcd) ... Spent a lot of time at http://www.dpreview.com/ , at http://www.kenrockwell.com/ , talking to fellow photographers, and even read Consumers Report. Rockwell's assertion that the D300 is "the world's best amateur camera" certainly caught my eye ... 12.3 mp ... 3 inch lcd ... 6 frames per second ... What was that word? Oh yeah -- humminah!!

Ultimately, the rugged weather resistant build of the D300 won me over (remember, I'd just worn out two nice cameras within 5 years) ... Fortunately, a bit of life's corporate lemons turned into found-money lemonade for me, making the jump to the D300 financially feasible and particularly satisfying.

Once I decided on the D300, I agonized over what lenses to start with. Maybe just a traditional 50mm 1.8 to start? No -- we need to have more fun than that! I considered pairing the 16-85 1:3.5-5.6 VR and the 70-300 1:4.5-5.6 VR to cover a larger range. I got distracted with dreams of doubling/tripling my lens investment by going with the 24-70 2.8 and 70-200 2.8 VR to get better low light performance ... I had momentary delusions of achieving the reach of the incredible 200-400 4.0 VR ... I ultimately opted to pair the flexibility of the 18-200 1:3.5-5.6 VRII and the low-light/depth-of-field permformance of the 85 1.8 -- seemed to be the best match for my interests and my budget and sets me up well for the future.

After yet another purchasing adventure, this one linked to a zealous anti-fraud system at the bank and another creative role for GrammaB, the purchase was made. On August 6, 2008, the D300 arrived along with the Nikkor AF 18-200mm 1:3.5-5.6 VRII telephoto zoom, the Nikkor 85mm 1.8 portrait lens, and the Nikon SB600 flash ... The Lowepro Nova 4 all-weather bag soon joined the collection ... Woooohoooolio!! Days later, the Manfrotto 682B Monopod joined the collection -- and it was woooohooooolio all over again. Three months later, I've added the 50mm 1.8D prime lens ... the collection is growing!

I'm pleased with what I've seen so far as I've unpacked it and begun to test the pieces. The size and weight is amazing (twice that of the Minolta), but I love it. The speed is impressive. The noise is coool. What did the neighbor kid yell at the end of Incredibles? "That was TOTALLY WICKED!!!" Photos will begin to be posted over at www.pbase.com/donutrun once the planet slows down enough for me to catch up with life.

And as for the lens envy? Am I cured? Me? Hardly. Granted, I'm no longer likely to be embarassingly outgunned at sporting events, weddings, or in the press corps for a while at least -- but I am still zesty for the 70-200 2.8 VR's low-light performance (for indoor events) and the 200-400 4.0 VR's extreme reach (for safari work) ... Sooooo you see, even with magnificent equipment, lens envy never really goes away ... :-)

Re-Meeting Nakki

Twenty-seven or so years ago, Nakki Goranin was an artist-in-residence with the Vermont Arts Council ... A woman of great passion, admitted obsession, and inspiring energy ... She took on a group of teenage photograpy students from Mt. Abe's "gifted & talented" program -- a group that included myself, Bill, Craig, and Miles ... It was there at her side that my fascination with photography really took root.

Then decades passed ... Literally ...

Recently, I reconnected with her on LinkedIn, then exchanged emails, meant to attend her showing on Pine Street, and then saw a County Courier article about a book signing in Johnson ... Indeed, author and artist Nakki Goranin would be speaking and signing copies of "American Photobooth" ...

So I went.

Ryan's Books in Johnson, VT is a charming nook nestled in an old brick bank (I believe, as it had a vault amongst the shelves) ... Nakki looked not a day older as I entered the shop. She was seated at a table amidst stacks of her book -- a position befitting a woman whose work is praised by none less than the curators of the Smithsonian, who has been written about by John Updike, and who has studied photography, anthropology, and education ...

It was great fun to reconnect -- as she hasn't changed much over the years, but I now have grey in the goatee and daughters older than I was when I was her student (pictured in their on photobooth image at right). We had a chance to chat, we smiled at a memorable photoshoot incident that best remains undocumented given uncertainty regarding the statutes of limitations on inadertently tresspassing, she kindly signed my copy of her book, and then I settled in with others (a retired editor of Vermont Life, a local professional photographer, a friend of Nakki's, a curious afficiando, a German woman who used to accompany her father as he refilled photobooth processing chemicals, etc) as the event unfolded.

Nakki spoke informally and ardently -- about photobooths, about those who made them, about those who had their picture taken in them, about the process of writing the book, about the evolution of photography ... Her knowledge and passion and eloquence and simple sincerity were immediately familiar -- clearly, this was "my" Nakki from so long ago. I stayed as long as my anti-social hobbit tendencies would allow and then bolted, book in hand, back to my world -- all the better for having mustered the nerve to re-meet Nakki Goranin.