An artists journey

Tag: art

  • Being a Tourist

    Being a Tourist

    Yeah, we’re highly trained and experienced photographers who always take “serious” photographs (whatever those are). But do you ever find yourself being a tourist? I recommend it as a balance to our vision.

    Tourist

    Tourism is huge business. Especially after Covid restrictions people seem to be in a frenzy of wanting to travel. So much so that it has become a problem for popular areas. And many people are just rotten and inconsiderate tourists. Don’t be a bad tourist. I am not discussing any of these issues. Just the subjective point of view of a tourist.

    Tourists queue in front of the Louvre in Paris in 2017. The museum shut down for one day earlier this year after employees walked out due to overcrowding (Credit: Getty Images)

    I have written before about how I like to travel. This is a different take on it.

    The desire for travel and tourism seems to be inherent in most of us. It is a longing to explore and experience new and different things.I liked this definition of what a tourist is:

    In simple terms, a tourist is an individual who embarks on a journey to explore new places, experience different cultures, and seek relaxation or adventure. They are the adventurers, the beachcombers, the culture enthusiasts, and the thrill-seekers. They are the ones who venture beyond their everyday lives to discover the wonders that the world has to offer.

    As a photographer

    All of those things can be true of a tourist, but a photographer may have additional objectives. I realize that many people on vacation only want to take selfies and classic tourist shots of iconic places. Nothing wrong with that if it is what gives you pleasure. But I am discounting it here, because I have additional goals and, if you are reading this, I figure you do too.

    Pinocchio?©Ed Schlotzhauer

    Whether traveling or being in my home area, I want to shoot images that reflect my vision. That bring a unique and different perspective on what I am seeing. This can be a challenge as a tourist. We are in unfamiliar territory seeing new sights with perhaps a tight schedule or even the dreaded “group tours” to deal with.

    If we are traveling to a distant location for vacation, we probably cannot justify taking all the gear we would like to have. We may have language and transportation challenges to overcome. And we may not be in full control of our schedule.

    Ultimately, unless you are one of the fortunate ones who can plan a multiple week stay in one location, we are under real or perceived time pressure. I hope you do not plan one of those “6 countries in 5 days” trips. But even with a more leisurely schedule, we know we have places to go and things to see in the time we have.

    This means we do not usually have the luxury of settling in and getting to know an area. To find the rhythms and pace of the place. To learn to see beyond the superficial. We are a tourist.

    Out of control

    In effect, this renders us out of control. We have to live with the schedule and the travel arrangements and the lighting and the weather and whatever other conditions you encounter. Usually we cannot say “I will come back tomorrow to get a better shot”. Tomorrow we are likely to be someplace else.

    Color spill©Ed Schlotzhauer

    And in this situation it is very hard to have a feel for what is good. Everything is different from our normal experience. Wow, what a great street scene we think. But in reality it is mediocre at best. If we looked around or spent much more time we could do much better. But we don’t know because we do not know what to expect and what is good and bad and we are pressed for time.

    We know that if we could control the circumstances better we could make better images. But we usually can’t do that.

    If you are a control-oriented person, this will be extremely frustrating. I am not a controlling person, I tend to take things as they come, but it can still be quite annoying even to me.

    Out of your comfort zone

    Being a tourist in an unfamiliar area puts us out of our comfort zone. Everything is new and calling to us to be photographed. It is hard to take more than standard tourist shots, because we do not have time to think much about each subject. We may not have the chance to walk around it to view it from different viewpoints or contemplate it at leisure before having to rush off to the next sight. And we seldom have the chance to compare it to other similar scenes to find the best one.

    Dealing with this and making shots we will be happy with when we get home takes a lot of discipline. We have to learn to be flexible and able to respond to circumstances instead of carefully planning and controlling our shoots.

    Strategies

    I have informally developed some strategies I use to try to survive in these situations. Let me cover it with disclaimers: these kind of work for me; no guarantee they will be right for you. As always, these are descriptive, not prescriptive. I do not believe in dictating a methodology to anyone.

    Refreshing glass of cider©Ed Schlotzhauer

    When you are a tourist, everything is interesting. Go ahead and shoot that tourist shot. You will want it for the memory. Now that that is out of the way, pause and look for the more interesting thing. That may be a detail of the main subject. It may be something totally different if you turn around and look. If you are on a dreaded group tour, spend time scanning for interesting shots while the guide is describing the current historical monument.

    I try to go with some project ideas in mind. This helps to channel my thoughts away from just the tourist views to some themes I will be paying attention to. On a recent trip to France my themes I tried to keep in mind were: antiquity, Joie de vivre, trees, devoted to God, and think B&W. It is not that I was actively working on these project ideas. Just that they gave me a framework for considering the sights I encountered. I find doing this gives me more focus and helps me avoid running off randomly in all directions.

    And I try to get into a kind of flow state. I am unlikely to truly achieve flow, but I can approximate is by being tuned in to what is happening around me. The goal is a heightened sense of awareness. In this mode I recognize a possible shot more quickly and can be ready to react to it. I want to be shooting instinctively for fast moving situations and more meditatively when possible.

    Being mindful

    I know it doesn’t sound like it from what I said above, but I think the thing that helps is to be very mindful. Experience openly and freely, but keep the analysis running in the background. Take it all in but be very conscious of how you are reacting to it. Quickly reinterpret what you are seeing through your own vision filter.

    Remember, as a tourist you are breaking out of the ordinary. Use that you your advantage. Shake up your habits.

    We all tend to form habits. Talking about photography, John Szarkowski referred to this as “habitual seeing” . Being a tourist everything is fresh and new. It is a great chance to break some habits and see things in a new way, flex your mental muscles. Try to bring this new found ability to see back as one of the important souvenirs of the trip.

    In the definition I gave of a tourist above, one of the key words to me is “experience”. If we are mindful and actively trying to capture that experience we are more likely to get some images that represent how we felt and experienced the trip.

    If it fails

    Keep in mind I am suggesting that you be experimenting on what may be a big expensive trip. When you are trying something new, you may get worse results, not better. No guarantees.

    My argument is: that’s OK. You’re not going on a National Geographic assignment where you are contractually obligated to bring back certain results. This is our art. We should always be experimenting. If you are disappointed with some of your results but you come back a better artist, isn’t that a win? It is for me. The experience is more important that the product we bring back. However, in my case, my wife is there beside me taking all the conventional selfies and tourist shots on her phone. So they will be there if I want to see them. 🙂

    These shots of mine are all “tourist” images from a trip to France. Hopefully they are not just standard boring travel shots.

  • En Plein Air

    En Plein Air

    This is a big buzz with my colleagues who manually put pigment on a substrate (e.g. they paint). There is an aura that makes it something exotic about creating “en plein air”. Actually, plein air is what I do, too.

    Plein air

    In itself, plein air art is not a new concept, or even an artistic concept. It has been done commonly by painters since the 1800’s.

    It is sometimes spoken like an advanced technical term. Something your have to be an insider to truly appreciate. But it is just an everyday French phrase. I have been studying French recently (another story) and was surprised to find this in normal use. It literally means “plain air”, or outdoors. Nothing fancy or hidden there. If you go to a “plein air” concert it just means you are going to an outdoor concert.

    Silhouetted tree at sunset©Ed Schlotzhauer

    In painting

    So if you are a painter and you gather up all your stuff and take it outside to paint scenes from nature or whatever is in front of you, you are painting “en plein air”. Does that make it different or special? Maybe. Monet thought so. I”ll talk about that in a minute.

    But to give the painters credit, it required some technical and workflow innovations for this to happen. We forget history sometimes.

    It used to be (pre-1800) that artists had to find or buy their own pigments. Then they had to purify them and laboriously grind them into an extremely fine powder and mix them in a binder, usually a type of oil. By the way, you know those beautiful warm, rust toned palettes favored by Renaissance artists in Italy? Ochre pigment was a common, naturally occurring mineral there. Coincidence?

    But then, sometime in the early 1800’s, the technology for producing and selling pigments already ground and mixed and in tubes was developed. This allowed the artists two things: first, they could get any colors they wanted. But second, and more important for this discussion, it became much easier to take your oils with you. As the desire to move about grew, enterprising vendors also developed smaller, portable easels and pre-stretched prepared canvases. Artists were not tethered to a studio nearly so much.

    Now artists could pack their gear into a relatively small bundle and go where they wanted. One of the places they moved was outside.

    Monet

    I find I use Monet as an example a lot. I like his work, but another thing is that he was an innovator and revolutionary. He fought the entrenched art establishment and helped establish a whole new style. Something photography is still struggling to some extent to do.

    Monet was one of the early practitioners of the plein air movement. One of the motivations of the whole Impressionist movement was his and others desire to paint outdoor scenes in the light of the moment. As Guy Tal put it in his marvelous book The Interior Landscape, (I get no incentives for promoting it) “Monet famously credited the success of his work to the emotions he felt when working out in nature … As Monet himself put it, ‘My only merit lies in having painted directly in front of nature, seeking to render my impressions of the most fleeting effects.’ “

    Working outside and observing fleeting effects. That’s what I like to do, too!

    Moving clouds, moving lights©Ed Schlotzhauer

    I work outdoors

    The same impulse motivates me, even though the technology I use is very different. I find and capture my images almost exclusively outdoors. Shooting in a studio does not motivate me.

    Seeing things most other people do not see excites me. Finding those things, even if they are little, seemingly insignificant things, that I can show you in a new way gives me joy. Especially if I can show you something and you share my joy and excitement.

    I admit I do not have the patience for painting. It’s too slow for me. Spending a few hours or days capturing a scene would be so frustrating to me that I would quickly give up. Seeing something, visualizing what this could be and what to do with it is hard and takes lots of experience. That is one of the fun and creative parts of photography to me. And it is fast enough to not bog me down or interrupt my creative flow. The process of capturing and producing the artifact doesn’t need to be so difficult.

    Other than post processing work on my computer, my images come from outdoors, en plain air.

    A new genre?

    Have I created a new genre of art? Should I trademark the term “plein air photography”? Sign up for my workshop!

    Well, I probably can’t do that. Photography has always been strongly associated with the outdoors. I think the first surviving photograph was an outdoor scene. Admittedly early photographs were outdoors because that’s where a good light source was available. Flash had not yet been invented. Even when it first was, it was difficult and dangerous to use (and smoky).

    But those are technical considerations. The fact remains that photography has always had a strong connection to the outdoors. Especially for crazy people like me who photograph outside year around in a place like Colorado.

    Snow, wind, cold - all the ingredients for a great photo shoot.©Ed Schlotzhauer

    It’s the outdoors that motivates me. I’m a hunter. That’s where I find most of my prey. And my inspiration. It is not an uncommon obsession. Look at publications like Luminous Landscape, Nature Photographer’s Network, Outdoor Photographer magazine and many others.

    To the painters, if working outside motivates you, excellent. We share a common bond. I hope the outdoors inspires us both to do our best work. But working outdoors is not a new concept or unique to painting. Plein air just means “outside”.

    I’ll be looking for you outside. But we will just pass each other. I’ll be moving about a lot discovering and shooting a lot of things while you are painting. Not to say one is better or worse, just very different art forms. Both en plein air. Let’s wave to each other.

  • The Magic of the Lens

    The Magic of the Lens

    Do you ever stop to think about your lenses, besides wanting a shinny new one? There is a magic of the lens that we seldom consider and perhaps do not even understand.

    Many constraints

    My perception is colored by my background as an engineer. I see a modern lens as serving so many constraints that it is a wonder they do the job as well as they do. We expect high resolving power and “good” bokah. It needs to have a good zoom range but be small. It must be weather sealed and rugged, but inexpensive. And, of course, issues like low chromatic aberration and great edge to edge sharpness and low distortion and minimal light falloff (vignetting) and minimum flare are all givens. Oh and blazing fast auto focus, too.

    The poor lens designers are in a tight place. Luckily for them computer design tools have advanced greatly. Also, new materials are available to help overcome some of the design problems of the past.

    Still though, we ask a lot of a professional grade lens. Probably more than we realize.

    Simple lens

    We have an idea in mind of how a lens works. You probably did an experiment in High School Physics with a simple lens. Then you took it out and fried some ants.

    What we normally picture is a biconvex lens. Don’t let a fancy word scare you. That just means both sides are thicker in the middle than on the edge. Like this:

    By DrBob at the English-language Wikipedia, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=2065907

    The rays (red lines) illustrate how the lens focuses on a point. That focusing is what images the outside world sharply onto our sensor.

    This is true. It works. But nothing in life is simple anymore.

    Reality

    The reality is that, because of our high expectations and the piles of constraints to satisfy, real lens design has to be much more complex.

    I am going to use the Nikon Z 24-120 f/4 zoom as an example. For two reasons: it is a representative high quality modern design, and I like it – a lot. It is my go-to lens for everyday use.

    Lens design has gone far beyond the “simple” lens pictured above. Here is a cutaway of the Nikon lens:

    Photography Life: https://photographylife.com/reviews/nikon-z-24-120mm-f-4-s

    We can see that it has many lens elements (a word for a piece of glass in a lens) – 16 of them to be exact. Few of them are simple biconvex elements. Some of them are exotic glass. Things like high refractive index (they bend light more sharply than regular glass) or other properties. Some are aspherical. This means they are quite complex designs to achieve specific results. These are hard to design and manufacture. Usually they are necessary to correct for effects of other things and make the resulting image better.

    Zoom

    Let’s look at a few specific features. This lens has a 5x zoom range, from 24mm to 120mm. Now you would think that, for the lens to zoom 5x, it would have to get 5 times longer. This would be true for a straightforward design.

    However, us users of the lens would not like that. It would have to be very big and bulky to do that. And it would be awkward when zoomed all the way out. It would be long and off balance the camera.

    But complex design magic and some of those special lens elements allow them to shortcut physics. it zooms over the 5x range while only extending to less than twice it’s collapsed length. Amazing and very welcome.

    Reflections

    The real world is not a well behaved bundle of parallel rays coming into the lens, like in the simple lens picture above. Light is coming from everywhere. Most of it is what we want to end up on the sensor. But a lot isn’t. Light coming in from a sharp angle tends to “bounce around” inside the lens and cause a lowering of contrast. Kind of a fog look.

    Modern lenses have special coatings on the glass and use some of the special types of glass i mentioned to fight this. These go a long way to canceling the reflections.

    It used to be that shooting in the direction of a very bright source, like the sun would always cause unwanted internal reflections that degrade the image. Now it is amazing how little that happens. I really only worry about that if the sun is directly or nearly directly in view.

    Abstract study in texture and shape©Ed Schlotzhauer

    Chromatic aberration

    Chromatic aberration is something we seldom consider, except when we are getting down to the last details of a final print. One of the nasty realities of physics is that each “color” of light is a different frequency. The amount of “bend” the lens gives to light is dependent on the color (frequency) of the light. This means not all the colors focus at the same point. That’s bad.

    Have you every looked very closely at magnified blowup of a sharp edge in one of your photos? Especially if it is in a high contrast lighting situation. You may see a slight fringe of green or purple around the edge. This is called chromatic aberration. Not all the colors focusing together.

    One of the purposes of the exotic glass and all the elements in modern lenses is to minimize this. They do a pretty good job.

    But they are not perfect. Luckily it is a simple check box in Lightroom Classic to have the software automatically remove chromatic aberration.

    Other considerations

    If you ever carry a camera around all day you learn to appreciate light weight. Lens designers would like to design their lenses with a very sturdy metal shell and structure. But we would not like to carry that. Modern plastics and design techniques have allowed the designers to create our lenses at a more user friendly weight while still being sturdy enough to hold up to hard use. Thank you.

    Did you know that some lenses make the light come into the sensor is a certain direction to make the sensor receive the photons better? Did you know that most of our zoom lenses, especially, have quite a bit of distortion and vignetting and resolution falloff at the edges? Those are some of the things that are part of the tradeoffs. But one reason they are traded off is there’s a bit of perceptual and software slight of hand.

    First, we don’t notice it much. Really. We are not as sensitive to it as you would think. Unless you spend your time photographing test charts. Second, many of us set Lightroom Classic to look at the model of the lens and automatically apply a “correction” to the image we see. Adobe has a database of lenses with mathematical models to correct their distortions. This is a good thing.

    As a matter of fact, Nikon has a special deal with Adobe such that the great Z 24-70 f/2.8 lens is automatically corrected in Lightroom Classic, whether or not the user selects that. It is impossible to defeat it. Hardware and software are joining in a symbiotic relationship. Making an image is a blend of both and it will only increase with time.

    Almost everything done to solve one problem creates another. This is why designs are so complex and expensive. Everything is a tradeoff. It is all a question of how good can we make this property while not letting that other one get worse than a certain level.

    Example black & white image©Ed Schlotzhauer

    Magic

    I am in awe of these brilliant designers. They achieve beautiful balance. Like I said, I regularly use this example lens I have talked about and I am generally very happy with it. But let me emphasize that pure, unexcelled technical perfection is not usually my goal. A lens like this is “good enough” for 99.9% of my needs.

    For me, as a user, I take the camera out and start using it. What I see and feel is more important than technology. Sometimes, though, my engineer nature kicks in and makes me marvel at the complexity. But really, I shoot and expect my great gear to capture what I want. And it usually does. Marvelous.

    The magic of the. lens. Like most good magic, how it works is invisible to us. But occasionally stop to consider how lucky we are and what an incredible piece of technology we have attached to our camera body.

    Feature image

    The image at the top was shot with this Nikon Z 24-120mm f/4 zoom lens I have been using as an example. This is the Hotel de Ville in Paris – their Town Hall. You can’t really tell in this small jpg, but I am completely happy with the capabilities of this lens. If the opportunity arose I am sure I could make a very good 60″ print of this. Here is a section of it zoomed to 100%.

    100% section, ©Ed Schlotzhauer

    Let me assure you that I am not affiliated with or sponsored by Nikon. I am just using this nice lens that I use frequently as a representative example of what a modern zoom lens is and is capable of doing.

  • Have an Opinion

    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.

    Is it interesting?©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.

    Curious reflections in a shop window©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.

  • Don’t Show It All

    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.

    Photographing a true icon - The Eiffel Tower©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.

    More than a rock - seeing it different.©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