Ed Schlotzhauer

An artists journey

Category: Mindfulness

Have an Opinion
I spent most of my photographic career just recording scenes. But now I think you probably won’t make a compelling image unless you have an opinion and express it in your art.
Just the facts
I started mostly focusing on just the facts. My goal was literal representation of scenes. I wanted to capture what was actually there, with no interpretation. I regret that.
Being an engineer didn’t help. It is very easy to get caught up in technical details of resolution and depth of field. My excuse is that I grew up in Texas and moved to Colorado in my early 20’s. The mountains were new to me and I wanted to record everything I could. I was basically running around saying “Wow, look at this! I never knew this existed!”.
If I had an opinion about it, it was something like awe and excitement about the new landscape. I took a lot of accurate, factual representational pictures back then, but very few are in any of my current collections. Beautiful images some of them, but little depth. Not compelling.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
What makes it special?
What makes an image special or worth lingering over? That is a hard question. Great photographers have been wrestling with that for 150 years. Painters have been agonizing over it for hundreds of years. There are no rules or definitive answers (despite all the rubbish you may find on the internet).
I am not in a position to give you a definitive answer either. If I could it would make my art a lot easier to do.
I think we can agree that some images jump out at us or hold us to linger over them. If we can agree on that then we can agree that there must be some quality or qualities that distinguish one from others.
It could simply be the composition or lighting or the precision of the execution or the decisive moment or something in the scene that grabs our interest. Maybe some combination of all of that.
I am drawn to believe it is all that but more. We see far too many well executed images of beautiful scenes that seem soulless, flat, uninspired. So there must be an unidentified quality that some get but others do not.
It is probably oversimplified, but I speculate that part of it could simply be whether the photographer was excited about it. We tend to be drawn to excitement in others. When someone is telling us a story that happened to them, their excitement has a lot to do with our engagement. If it is just a “I went to the grocery store and got some oranges”, well, we quickly drift away. But if it is “I went to the grocery store and the most amazing thing happened…” then, if they can keep the story going, we will follow.
Could it be that simple with our pictures?
Express yourself
I said when I started my photography I believed mainly in literal representation. It seemed wrong to try to project my feelings or opinion on them. Now I think I was totally wrong. That is why most of those early images were completely forgetable. I wasn’t truly being authentic because I was keeping my feelings to myself.
One thing the great and very quotable Jay Maisel said was “What you’re shooting at doesn’t matter, the real question is: ‘Does it give you joy?’”.
Now I believe that unless I am feeling something strong, it is useless to press the shutter. I want to believe that my excitement will carry through in some of my images. The good ones.
Another quote that guides me is “if it doesn’t excite you, why should it excite anyone else?” I think that is a Jay Maisel too, but I can’t find it. If not, maybe I’ll claim it. 🙂 Either way, I believe it. Why should you care about any of my images unless they came from something inside of me? Not just pressing the shutter button and capturing what is there.
So it is not enough for me to just capture an image of something. I want you to know what I was feeling, how I perceived it. I may have loved it or hated it, but you be able to sense it and participate in it.
It is not only OK for me to express my feelings, I think it is completely necessary to make something good.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Nobody has to agree
But there is a dark side to human nature: when we express our feelings, some people will not agree. I know now that that is fine. When I took the attitude that everybody does not have to like what I did, it was tremendously liberating.
So now when someone says “I like that” or “I don’t like that” I basically ignore the comment. It is no use to me without more discussion. Actually, if someone does not like a picture I love to get into a conversation with them to find our why they felt that way. I will not change my image and I do not try to change their mind, but I am always curious about the reasons for negative reactions.
One of my goals is to create a reaction in you. I’m generally a positive and upbeat person and that is more often the type of reaction I aim for. But I would rather cause you to hate my work than to be indifferent to it. If you are indifferent I failed to move you at all.
I encourage you to fall in love with your subjects. Or find the subjects that revolt you and you want to have changed. Either way, feel something. Strongly. Your audience needs it and deserves it.
Today’s image
This was a quick “grab” shot, but that was because I did not want to disturb or upset the guy looking at me. I was more shy then. This has a lot of feeling for me. I was suffering and I’m sure they were, too. It was in a village in central Italy and it was about 100_^°F that afternoon. We were dying and the only people stupid enough to be out sightseeing. This old couple seemed to have found a relatively shady spot in the narrow street. Hopefully with some breeze. I’m sure that other neighbors would soon gather for their daily ritual.
I fell in love with the area and the way of life. They seemed to have contentment in their circumstances and the pace and traditions of their life. I came away with great respect for them. I wish I would have visited with this gentleman, but the heat was about to take me down and I don’t speak Italian. I’m pretty sure he did not speak English. So I let it go be. I’m sorry for that.
November 27, 2024
Don’t Show It All
Not like that. This is a follow up to my last post on portfolio selection. A simple, overarching principle to keep in mind is: don’t show it all, or even most of it. Actually, not very much of it.
We’re proud of our work
A blessing and curse of digital photography is that we now shoot thousands of images. Of course, we’re pretty good, too. Everybody should like to see 500 pictures of my cat. After all, they are all different poses. And that big trip we enjoyed so much, here are the very best 900 pictures from that great trip to France. They’re all worth seeing.
We fall in love with our own pictures. This is a fact of life. Each one is special because it was exciting, memorable, unique for us. We remember what we experienced at the time. It makes it significant to us. To us, each one of those 900 pictures from France is worth showing to other people.
And when we are too attached to our pictures we tend to overlook problems that are obvious and distracting to others. The telephone pole growing out or your kid’s head is not seen. After all, it is a really cute expression. And we overlook all those people in the foreground of the beautiful picture of Chambord. Just look at how spectacular that Chateau is. It is too easy to convince our self that that tilted horizon is not a problem, or the poor composition, or the bad color balance.
But we have to be adult. Part of that means being very aware of the actual quality of our work and of what is appropriate for the situation. And in most situations, less is more.
Other people generally don’t care
I don’t want to pour cold water on your enthusiasm, but other people are not excited about what you have. That is a hard reality you have to learn.
They weren’t there. They did not experience what you did. None of these images have the same meaning or impact for them. It wasn’t their vacation, or their family, or their cat. Call up your pictures of France and hand the phone to someone to page through. If they are good friends, they will fake interest and flip through a lot of them. But even they will probably not look at any image for more than 1-2 seconds.
When they look at your pictures, they don’t see it the same way you did. They can’t and never will. Understanding this is a key to getting our images viewed by other people.
It gets much more challenging when we are wanting strangers to view our work. They do not know us, they were not there when the image was taken, it may not be anything they are interested in. But here, look at my pictures. Thanks, but I’ll pass.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Context is key
The context where we are and where and when we are presenting our images makes a huge difference. Is it to friends or strangers? Is it one-on-one or a public venue? What is drawing people to pay attention to your photos?
Pushing pictures on social media is a main venue for many of us. The audience is friendly if it is our network. They will politely scan through a few of the pictures. A few of the viewers may even give us a thumbs up to make us feel good. But did they actually see them or care? We can’t tell. And we won’t know.
And how often have we been cornered by friends who have “a few” pictures to show us? They hand us their phone, sure we will love the 50 pictures they took of the great sunset last night. It is one of those “just shoot me” moments. But if they are a friend, we have to be polite. Back in the film days it was a common joke theme to go over to a friends house only to have them get out the slide projector to show “a few” pictures of their trip. After the first few hundred we want to fake a heart attack to get away.
Up to here we are only bothering captive audiences. We can get away with little editing and selection. It will make us look foolish, but our friends will forgive us – eventually.
But perhaps we decide we’re pretty good and book a booth in an art fair. Now the audience has no connection to us and no inherent reason to look at what we have. We will get a glance as they walk by. People will only pause to give a second look if we present something that captures their attention. They will only come in to look more closely if we show them something exceptional.
Now take it to the big leagues. We get an opportunity to show our portfolio to an art director or gallery manager. That is a tough audience. These are professional art viewers. They look at huge numbers of pictures and it is their job to reject almost everything. What are you showing that will capture their attention? It better not be 100 of your best cat pictures.
How many?
How many images are in a portfolio? There is no hard rule for this. It depends on what the portfolio is for.
Peter Eastway, the publisher of Better Photography Magazine, has a nice little ebook titled “Creating a Portfolio“. It is worth reading if you can get a copy. He tries to address this and many other considerations of putting together a portfolio.
In his Australian humor, he says “The number of photographs in a perfect album is 12. Or sometimes 8. Or maybe 24.” In other words, it depends. No rules. But the number is probably much lower than you thought, and whatever you put in needs to be the best. No filler. Nothing that’s there because you want to show some variety to widen the interest.
Peter gives an interesting test. He says do not put an image in your portfolio unless you think you will still be proud of it in 12 months time. That is significant to me. I often am enthusiastic about an image, only to find I cool off toward it with time. My filtering process has built in delays. It take months for me to elevate an image to “one of the best” status. I do that intentionally to let the initial enthusiasm be replaced with a more objective evaluation.
In general, between 12 and 20 for any collection of images in a project or portfolio works for me. I would feel free to violate my own rule if I were doing a documentary or a book. Or for a multi-year project that had significant importance to me. But I would have to make a very conscious exception.
©Ed Schlotzhauer
Less is more
I advocate that we take a mindful “less is more” attitude. Always take out images until it hurts. Then take our a lot more.
Remember, your audience has a short attention span compared to your view of your portfolio. Any weak image will loose their interest. They may even abandon looking at that point. I have heard it said that you will be judged by the weakest image in your portfolio. I believe it. It is human nature to find the worst as a way to critique the whole.
I consider building a portfolio kind of like an athletic contest. Teams have to compete in and survive multiple rounds of playoffs to be chosen the champion. Hopefully the best emerge. Same with our images. It is a brutal, hand to hand contest.
If you are evaluating coolly and objectively, every one removed makes the remaining set stronger. Remember, when you remove one, you are not saying you don’t like it or it is a bad image. You are just acknowledging that it does not hold up against the competition of the rest of the group. That is good. But hard.
It is very hard for me. If I want to select a project with max 20 images, I may pull at least 60-80 very good candidates. Doing the first cut is only a little painful. Maybe that gets me down to 50. I try to toughen up and go slashing again. Now maybe I have 35 left. OK, I swallow hard and cut some more and get it down to 30. Still a long way from 20.
The trouble now is that I really love every one of the 30 candidates that remain. The pain of eliminating any of then is extreme. Remind myself over and over that taking one out is not saying I don’t like it. It would be a lot easier to relent and let myself use all 30.
You would think it would get easier now. After all, I think all of them are great. But the reality is that there is a rank order to be discovered. Some are better than the others. That is what I still have to resolve. Eventually I get there. It is painful and lengthy. But a funny thing happens. I love the set that survives, and forget about the pain of the ones that didn’t make it.
The optimum number to show people is fewer than you think. When we learn that we don’t have to show it all, we can build stronger portfolios.
If you’re not your own severest critic, you are your own worst enemy.
Jay Maisel
November 20, 2024
Wait For It
In my last article I suggested reacting to subjects and shooting with minimal planning. This time I talk about the need to study a subject and find the optimum conditions. To wait for it. Am I inconsistent?
Shoot what you find
Last time I recommended that you take what you find, shoot where and when you can, make the best of what is there. Obviously, I think this is good advice, or I wouldn’t have said it.
This is the path I take most of the time. I enjoy the challenge of working with what I find, even if the conditions are not optimum. Whatever “optimum” means.
A quote attributed to Freeman Patterson captures the spirit of this for me. He said “It’s just light. What are you going to do with it?” I take this to mean “it is what it is”. The light is there. The conditions are there. You can’t change them. Work with it. Are you a good enough craftsman to make a great image in any light? Or are you so locked in to a certain expectation of what you want that you cannot make an image unless everything meets your criteria?
Do you remember the blizzard conditions in the picture with that last post? It was not what I expected or wanted. That kind of day, it would be much easier to stay inside. But in retrospect, I like this image much better than “normal” pictures of plain rock walls. I worked with what I found.
Wait for it
On the other hand, sometimes you have to work with a thing until you discover what it wants to say.
It is not my style or interest to plan out the optimum time of year, time of day, location, etc to get a trophy shot. I don’t care much for trophy shots.
But you know when something keeps catching at you gently? When it seems like it is trying to tell you there is something there if you can just see it? That’s the way it works sometimes. Our subconscious is more receptive than our conscious mind.
When you get this tingle and there is a scene you have regular access to, sometimes it helps to keep working it to see what it looks like in different conditions. This is what I call waiting to see what it has to say. Even a common, familiar, boring subject can be brilliant once. Finding that brilliance is the trick.
If you are mindful as you are out shooting, I imagine, like me, you have suddenly seen something you walk by every day in a whole new way. Maybe it is the light that is different, or the weather, or just your mood. But something clicks and this boring thing suddenly is exciting. It is a great feeling. Like discovering a hidden secret.
And when people ask you about it you can say, you know that thing over there you walk. by every day…? They are impressed; and incredulous. That’s very satisfying.
Perhaps best of all, you feel like you now have a unique insight on that subject. Until now, it was incomplete. Now a dialog has been accomplished, an exchange between you the artist and this subject. You have seen what this can be, in a way no one else has.
Resolving the conflict
So, last time I said shoot it as you find it. This time I’m saying wait for the perfect conditions. Am I inconsistent? Am I just playing with you?
Not at all. Both are right. There is a time for each. Do you remember that great bit of dialog in Fiddler on the Roof where someone says “He’s right, and he’s right – they can’t both be right”? And his answer is “You know, you are also right.”
Yes, I firmly believe both approaches are right, each at the right time and in the right conditions. Part of maturity is figuring it out.
I completely believe you should shoot where and when you are there. Don’t pass up a shot you think you want because it could be better someday. Do it now. And if you have the opportunity, work a scene frequently to refine and improve your comprehension of it. It really is true that working a familiar subject over time will lead to deeper understanding. And with frequent access, you might indeed find it at that perfect time no one else has understood.
You’re an artist
And. when all is said and done, you are the artist. Only you create the image through your craft and feelings. Do the best you can.
Are conditions unexpected and maybe not what you hoped for? Too bad. That’s what you have. Use it. Make something good out of it. It may require reframing your perspective. Changing your plans. That’s OK. We have to be flexible. That is part of the craft.
And when we get the chance to frequently return to a familiar subject, take the opportunity to get intimate with it. Learn its moods. Dig below the surface to learn about it in more depth. Then you have the chance to catch it revealing itself to us. If you are there, if you know it well enough, if your craft is good enough, that leads to the opportunity to get an image you feel brings a unique insight into the subject. Something no one else has seen.
A reason Monet painted water lilies in the pond at his house was because he became intimately familiar with them on a daily basis and they were changing all the time in different light and seasons. He found a subject he could live with and grow old with.
Whether this is the first time you have seen the subject or it is an old familiar friend. Whether the weather and light is “good” or “bad”, use your expertise to make a great image if you feel it is worth it. It is up to you.
Today’s image
This old battered factory and silo is 1 mile from my studio. I walk and drive by it frequently. I keep my eye on it and occasionally shoot a few images. The silos are 200 feet tall and 40 feet in diameter each. An imposing sight.
This day, magic happened. The combination of the clearing storm and the rainbow, being in just the right position to highlight the place, the light from the clearing storm being perfect. Well, it made it into something special. I had never seen it like this before and I have not since.
I gave a print of this to a friend whose dad supervised the construction of the silos decades ago. He had recently passed away and this was very special to her. It is special to me, too. It turned a broken down old industrial eye sore into something very different.
October 2, 2024
What You Find
This is heresy, but I recommend most of the time we work with what we find rather than planning extensively and expecting everything to be “perfect”.
Planning
It is common these days for photographers to research locations is detail before ever going into the field. And there are lots of tools to help us do it.
For any given location we can find what time of the year is “optimum”, what time of day is best, even where to stand for the best view. We can research the weather we should be able to expect, the temperature, exactly when sunrise or sunset is if that is important to the shot.
Then, of course, we can work back to where to stay, what time to get up, where the beat eating places are, etc.
Basically, then, we can just show up at the right time, set up and take the shot we want, and leave.
Trophies
A well planned shot like that can lead to some excellent pictures. If you are a National Geographic photographer out on a 6 month assignment to get a certain picture, that is a great approach.
I have 2 problems with it
1. It is collecting trophies.
2. What about the experience?
Much of photography these days seems to revolve around collecting trophies. We have to get that signature picture of Half Dome or the Eiffel Tower to post on social media to impress our peers.
That’s not me. I usually avoid places where dozens of other photographers are lined up shoulder to shoulder, fighting for tripod placements. Those sights are well covered. I do not plan to contribute yet another photo of Half Dome to the world, unless I am able to capture something unique. That is less and less likely when millions of shots are taken of it every year by good photographers.
I fully realize this is a personal value. It also is rooted in my personality type. I derive satisfaction from creating fresh, creative images that represent my vision. Whether or not anyone else likes them. Some other people need to bag trophies. Checking off the bucket list items is more important than actually having the image.
It would be foolish for me to criticize them. We are different. I do not agree with them, but I recognize that this behavior is true for many people. You have to do what is right for you.
What you find
Taking a good photograph is an emotional encounter for me. Talking about the experience you get is subtle and harder to describe. It is intensely personal.
If you are the meticulous planner I described earlier and you show up at your target location, what happens if things go wrong? What if the weather is too stormy to get out? Perhaps there are forest fires around and it is closed or obscured by smoke. Maybe a road is slowed down by construction and you get to the location “too late” for the planned shot.
If things like this happen and you can’t get the shot you planned, is it a failure? Are you disappointed with the outing? Was it a wasted trip?
I’m not usually so disappointed. I am there to see, feel, internalize – and, oh by the way, make images I am proud of. A sunny day may not inherently be better than a rainy day. Why is a snow storm worse than a warm summer day? It all depends on my reaction and attitude and what I am able to do with what I find.
How good are you?
I believe the attitude of accepting what we find and using our skill to work with it is healthy and mature. We cannot control what we will encounter. But we can control our attitude.
So whether I am at the Eiffel Tower or in my neighborhood, I try to make excellent images in whatever conditions I find. OK, allow 2 seconds feeling sorry for yourself, then put it out of your mind, enjoy yourself, and attack the photo problem.
For example, recently I went out locally to shoot some pictures of trees. A favorite subject of mine. But it turned into an extremely windy day. Did that make it a waste? No. Have you ever tried to shoot pictures of the wind? It was challenging and interesting after I reframed the problem. I enjoyed it and I like some of the images.
Making good pictures in unexpected conditions is a test of our craft and our character. Loosen your rigid expectations. Roll with the punches. Make lemonade out of lemons. Insert your own cliche.
But cliche or not, try it. Be flexible. It surprises me that unexpected pictures in bad conditions are sometimes the most memorable to me.
Today’s image
This wasn’t taken on the windy day I described. But it was a much worse day. It was in the Garden of the Gods in Colorado Springs, CO. It is not the conditions I came for, but it was what I found. HIgh wind funneling through the rock formations, blowing snow starting to pile up, bitter cold in Colorado in the winter. Sounds like a great day to be out.
Actually, after I kicked myself out into it and started seeing images, it was great. It turned out to be a very enjoyable experience. I went crazy shooting, when I could keep the snow cleared off my lens. Of course, it took a while later for my hands to thaw out and I was soaking wet and shivering. But I did not notice that very much at the time. All in all, I look back on it as a good time. And I like the image.
September 25, 2024
It Doesn’t Have To Be a Portfolio Shot
Of course we want to build a great portfolio, but don’t stress too much. Sometimes it is best to just go shoot and see what happens. In other words, not every shot has to be a portfolio shot.
A portfolio shot?
We all probably have one or more “portfolios” we maintain. Maybe you don’t formally build a physical portfolio box or book. Now days it is probably one or more Lightroom collections (or albums, depending on which flavor you use). That is a separate discussion.
The portfolio represents our best work. Typically there will be multiple ones for categories like landscapes or portraits or street photography, etc.
It should be a very limited set. A maximum of 20 works well. If you have 200, either you are a truly exceptional artist or you haven’t edited enough yet. Editing hurts. It is painful to take out a favorite. But the reality is that every one removed makes the remaining set stronger. It is healthy to constantly challenge our portfolio. Test to see if new images are better than existing ones. If they are, replace the old one.
So my point here is that it is easy to get in our head and not take a picture of a scene unless we are sure it is superior to anything already in our portfolio. This freezes us into fear and indecision.
Be mindful
Photography should be a process of mindfulness. We should be present and open wherever we are. This helps us to actually see the possibilities in what is around us at the moment. Being there and being in the moment lets us make the most of whatever situation we find.
Self-censoring fights against mindfulness. When we pass opportunities because they will probably not make portfolio images, we are building a mental wall to exclude things. It constricts our thinking and leads us to miss great shots that come unexpectedly.
Practice the craft
If you are a musician you practice hours a day. Even simple scales train the musical senses. If you are a gymnast you practice hours a day. Strength and flexibility exercise is as important as working on routines.
Why should it be different in the arts? Our art is part craft. Practice makes us better. We need to be very fluid in handling our equipment. Exposure decisions should be quick. Composition should be almost automatic because we have built such a large base of experience.
So we need to spend a lot of time just taking pictures. For the practice, if nothing else, even if we discard most of them. It makes us a more virtuoso photographer. The great majority of this practice does not produce portfolio shots. But it sets us up to skillfully make the great shot when we find it.
Get in the flow
A lot gets written about flow states. here are reasons for this. One is that it is a simple concept most of us can relate to. Another is that it is a powerful and compelling experience. Everybody seems to understand the basic concept, so I will not define it.
It is hard to force a flow state. You kind of fall into it and don’t realize it until later. To get there you have to be working – hard. Not working on getting into a flow. Working hard on our craft. That means being out doing it. Not just dabbling in it, but spending significant time and attention. As we immerse ourselves in it for an extended time we may find that we have hit a groove. Time seems to stand still. The stars align, so to speak, and everything seems to work better; ideas come freely; we are on a creative high. We feel good about what we are doing and the results are above normal. It seems to flow.
Looking back on it with a warm glow we may realize we were in a flow. It is important to realize that the flow is not the goal. The experience we feel and the work we produce is. Flow helps enable that.
Be surprised
And by being out and shooting freely with less self-censoring, I often am surprised by what I get. Maybe it is from being more mindful. Perhaps it is when I am in a flow. But regardless of why, I am frequently pleased with images that I thought at the time would be boring. And I am glad I shot them.
The famous Wayne Gretsky said “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.” I think there is application to our photography. Just thinking about a shot does not create an image. Thinking about a shot and deciding not to take it means no image. But when something tickles your subconscious and you go ahead and grab the shot, you might find gold. Even when you are relatively sure it will not make it into your portfolio, it might trigger another thought. Which might trigger another thought. And so on. It can bring you to a better way to see the subject. We can surprise ourselves.
So don’t be quite so picky. Be very picky in the excellence we demand in our craft. But be careful in prejudging our shots. Do your best with what is there and see where it leads. It could be that it is not a weak subject that is at fault. It could be that we aren’t letting our self think about it very well.
Today’s image
I’m a sucker for these. I love shooting them. You never know precisely what you will get, but the surprise can be fun. I really like this one. It is also a great exercise for working on timing. Being able to recognize a shot and execute it. It fascinates me that a few tenths of a second or a slight movement of the frame can make all the difference.
September 4, 2024