A Blank Canvas

Some people seem to hunt for the same images others have already taken. I go out with a blank canvas to fill with what I experience or visualize.

Research

I have known many people who would never go anywhere without thoroughly researching the location. They study samples of photos there. An itinerary will probably be planned, scheduling locations and the best time of day to be there and places to stand to shoot each scene.

The internet has amazing resources for doing this type of research. You can see exactly when and where the sun will rise and set. Likewise, when the moon will rise and set and the phase. You can virtually “stand” in any location and look around and see the view. And, of course, there are endless galleries of photos from most locations.

I am not criticizing this. We each do what works best for us. This does not work for me. I am not a planner in this way. I would. prefer to be surprised. Finding something interesting is more important to me than coming away with a certain pre-planned shot.

©Ed Schlotzhauer

Iconic locations

And how many people plan whole vacations around traveling to prime iconic locations to photograph? I guess, if you are new to photography, there is an excitement around being able to say, “I can shoot that, too.” Some have their “bucket list” they want to fill out. Maybe it seems to build a sort of credential.

I do not resonate with this. I have little interest with going somewhere just to metaphorically put my tripod feet in the holes others have worn over the years. It is great to visit beautiful locations. I cannot help but snap some pictures. But I would seldom consider putting them in a portfolio. To me, this is filling my canvas with someone else’s picture. But then, I’m weird.

A possible exception is an iconic location I can become intimately familiar with. For instance, I live less than an hour from Rocky Mountain National Park. I have shot a lot there. I am beginning to develop a relationship with it. It’s moods and weather changes, its commonly seen and out of the way sights are familiar. I feel this lets me see it in a very different way from an occasional tourist. Still, though, most of the pictures I would choose to show are somewhat different from the classic iconic shots. By getting familiar with a location, I can discover how I see it on a deeper level.

©Ed Schlotzhauer

Likes

And there is the great lure of social media likes. It is a deep psychological addiction the tech companies have hooked people on.

I can’t say it is impossible to make actual friends on social media. And I agree that there can be some benefit to posting some photos to see the reactions. I’m afraid, though, that for some of us, it becomes a game of collecting the most “likes” to validate ourselves.

Thank you, but I’ll pass. The way to maximize likes is to shoot the bland, ordinary pictures that the masses like. A pretty sunset always gets likes. I would rather create images that excite me. If I am going to go to the trouble of filling my canvas, shouldn’t I make something that pleases me?

©Ed Schlotzhauer

What is a blank canvas?

I have been using this metaphor of a blank canvas, but what does that mean? I think of my digital file as a canvas. It is a surface to paint on.

As photographers, we paint with light. I and many others have noted that one of the unique aspects of photography is that, when we click the shutter release, everything in the field of view of our lens is recorded. So, we must be very careful to decide beforehand what we want to image and what to exclude. This is one aspect of filling my canvas.

Alternatively, we can use a more painterly technique of drawing and brushing or copy/pasting or compositing to build an image “from scratch.”

Either way, a digital image is created. That is my workflow. I do not do film anymore.

Both the paths I described involve deliberate artistic decisions rather than just “Pretty – Click”. The camera and computer are tools to use to make art. We must bend the tools to our will and vision.

Some of us focus a lot on the technology. We use only the best prime lenses with the highest resolution sensors and always use a steady tripod to capture the finest detail that can be obtained. I understand.

Personally, I have fallen out of love with technology. I no longer will decide not to print an image because it was shot with a lens that did not have optimum lines of resolution. Ultimate technical perfection is no longer my goal.

So, basically, my blank canvas is my digital file. It starts as empty. I choose what to image or draw or composite onto this canvas. Hopefully, it is a well-chosen creative decision.

©Ed Schlotzhauer

Who am I shooting for?

In the end, I want to create images that please me. I am the audience that matters most. The ones I really like are seldom standard iconic scenes anymore and they are not designed to maximize likes.

Rule of thirds? Don’t care. Expose to the right? Maybe, maybe not. Sharp focused subject? Not necessarily. Locked down on a tripod for maximum sharpness? Probably not, maybe exactly the opposite. Don’t photograph in the middle of the day. Ridiculous!

Those technical considerations are of little interest to me. I delight in going against normal conventions. A good image is usually one I consider creative, a fresh point of view, something I’ve never seen and that I think my viewers have not seen.

But there is a problem with that. Once I have shot it, it is not as creative anymore. I might explore the idea for a while until it has run its course, but then I must keep going to find something else new and creative. But that is part of what excites me. The goal line is always moving. There is no point where I believe I will be able to say, “I have arrived; I am the perfect artist.”

My photography is an exercise in creativity. It is a creative image that I want on my canvas. Even if it is not technically perfect. It may even be impossible to make the image technically perfect. That does not bother me anymore.

What will you choose to write on your canvas? Copies of the same standard shots or fresh, new work? We make the choice every time we pick up our camera and contemplate that blank canvas.