Post trip blues

[Bruce Schultz]

After a week of shooting in the West Texas desert, I returned with excitement of seeing the results. Once again I was disappointed, and I should know better tha n to get excited before making even the first print. An excursion to sand dunes turned out rather disappointing. My best shot was fog ged when I accidentally pulled up the dark slide ever so slightly while in a hur ry to shoot before the sun went down. My second best shot has bad vignetting in the upper corners and my 3rd best shot suffered from some type of blotching, pro bably from using old fixer. I still had some good pictures, and have yet to develop all of my film so maybe I'll get better results in the next batch. I think I have finally gotten to the point of realizing on the ground glass when an image has potential and is more than a large format snapshot. And using PMK has helped save negatives that I would have trouble developing with other chemic als. Does anyone else suffer from the malady of being disappointed upon seeing what t hey actually got? I went through the same thing last year, but after a few month s of not looking at them my fotos started to grow on me. Maybe it had something to do with the familiar becoming contemptuous? It seems like some of the fotos don't actually come to life until after matting and framing. Any thoughts on this?

[Erik Ryberg]

Pre-visualization. I think Ansel Adams talks about this. It means what you think your pictures look like before you have the unfortunate experience of actually seeing them.

[George Nedleman]

I took my Rollie/spot meter/no tripod on a bike trip in Switzerland. I used TMax 400 so I could hand hold at higher shutter speeds. 7 rolls of "why did I take that?" maybe 5 decent pics. 1 whole roll of the covered bridge in Luzerne/slightly fuzzy self timed picture of my sons and me on top of Brunig pass(focus) /many Alpine mediocre pics/nice shots but not sharp when enlarged (camera movement). I guess I'll have to go again

[Sergio Ortega]

Bruce,

The first time I go anywhere on a photographic excursion I am invariably let down by the results. All the initial wonder and excitement I experience being somewhere for the first time does not seem to translate easily to film.

The lighting always seems just a little more flat and lifeless. The composition is not as tight. Things like improper focus, poor metering, or sloppy use of lens attachments resulting in vignetting are more readily apparent in the developed negative when sitting in my darkroom, after the fact, than they were while on the spot.

For the last ten years or so I've been working on a project photographing the many, little village churches in the northern New Mexico area. I've returned again and again with my 8x10 to the same churches, photographing the same things again and again, armed with the knowledge that my previous efforts were just not as successful as I'd hoped. Sometimes my initial efforts, with the passage of time, reveal themselves to be better than I had first thought; often they don't.

I think that to really be able to successfully capture what you're experiencing and seeing, you have to be very familiar with the subject. This means either staying in one spot for a long period of time, waiting for just the right light or conditions, or waiting till you discover precisely what it is about the place that makes you want to photograph it.

Good luck, Sergio.

[Darron Spohn]

This might make you feel a bit better. In October 1998 I got an extra week off work for all the overtime I put in that summer. I spent the week by myself at the Bristlecone Pine National Forest, and shot about 40 sheets of T-Max 100 and E100SW. Upon returning I discovered my Readyload holder had malfunctioned and not one sheet had been exposed.

To make matters worse, but backup Yashica Mat died the first day (wind mecahnism failure) so I didn't even have any 120 film exposed either. And, of course, it was one week of the most incredible light I've ever seen. I went back last summer and got some wonderful shots with my 2x3 Crown Graphic.

While I was shooting the Bristlecones last August I was disappointed in the light. However, after drum scanning some of the slides I've come to appreciate what I got. I'm heading back next summer with the CG and a Calumet Cadet and a Fuji Quickload holder.

You are not alone. West Texas has some excellent scenery. Write it off as a scouting trip and a learning experience. This just gives you a good excuse to go back.

[Robert A. Zeichner]

I think there is an important lesson in all of this. It took me quite a while to get to a stage where I could dependably bring back worthwhile negatives from my trips, but then again, there is always the weather, over which none of us have any control. But the lesson , I feel relates to the game of golf, of all things! In golf, about 90% of all of the factors that contribute to that perfect shot need to happen BEFORE you take your backswing. Club selection, stance, grip, aim, strategy ( in the case of having to shoot from behind a tree, for example) all can be dealt with BEFORE taking that backswing. In LF photography, it's pretty much the same. Just as golf pros suggest going through a "ritual" when getting set for a shot, the same can work for you when making that photographic shot! The important thing is not to vary from that ritual. In this way, only the variables that fall into the remaining 10% of the process need to be thought about seriously. As in golf, practice is very important. Also like golf, we all have bad shots from time to time. Maybe even a whole string of them! In golf, the game begins with your next stroke! If you dwell too much on past mistakes, you'll rattle your concentration and continue to make more mistakes. If you put mistakes behind you and get back to that ritual, you'll eventually achieve success. Photography is a wonderful combination of Science and Art. Artists have periods of creative "Dry Heaves" and need to step back for a bit to regroup from time to time. Don't give up. Find the routine that you feel comfortable with and stick with that. When you run into problems, you can always come back here. We're all here to listen, share and learn.

[Glenn Kroeger]

Boy this makes me feel better!

I have found that making larger LightJet prints helps. Since they are larger, they cost more, and take more wall space so I can't do many. So if I get one really good image from a trip, there goes a wall and a wad of money.

[Chris Hawkins]

This is why it is good to enjoy photography on more than one level. The process can be as satisfying as the final result.

[Mark_437]

I like Robert's reply about 90% of it happening before the event. My rule is "look before you shoot". If I go to a new area and have little time, I generally fire away with a 35mm and hopefully get a few good shots, but I don't bother with a view camera because if I can't give things the study and respect that large format deserves, it's usually not worth it.

I've gradually come into a working mode you could call "photography as religion". It works as follows: I'm now using a very large camera. (12x20, and I must say all the naysayers are wrong - it's almost as easy as 4x5 and the enjoyment seems to increase in direct proportion to the film area, but that's a subject for another post...) Because I have a lot of demands on my time and I don't wish to spend all my free time away from my family, I mostly photograph early on Sunday mornings when my kids are still asleep. And due to the camera size (and film cost!) I only shoot one subject per outing (although sometimes I expose two sheets). And because I don't want to waste precious early morning light driving around desperately looking for subject matter, I don't go unless I already have a subject selected. So what this means is that I'm ALWAYS on the lookout for interesting subjects during the week as I go about my business, and when I find one I make a mental note of where it is and what sort of weather would show it best, etc. Sometimes I go on short "scouting" expeditions on my way home from the store or wherever. I don't mean to imply that I find one every week or that I shoot one on the Sunday immediately following it. Some have been in my mental file for years, and I look at them whenever I drive by, making notes like "if it rains this week that pond would be magic, assuming the clouds also cooperate".

My point in all of this is that by the time I've made the commitment to photograph something, it is with a lot of contemplation and the knowledge that I have one holder to use on one subject, and although things don't always come out perfect, I must say that since I've started this contemplative/unhurried method I've been happier with my photography than I've been in a long time. And if I go out and things aren't quite right then I just scout the nearby area for a bit (knowing I won't set up the camera) then go home and have breakfast with my family... and those outings are also wonderful in their own way. I guess I'm just saying that you can't force magic. Look and stay open and you will find it.

Best,

[Jacque Staskon]

A couple of decades ago I took a workshop with Minor White. At first I was off put by the fact that for the first few days he would not allow us to use a camera. We were there to learn from the master and I was quite upset that he had us doing all these other things, like thinking and talking and looking and seeing but no shooting. In hindsight, I was probably too young to really experience the quality of this mans teaching. Anyway, by the time the workshop was over I had only exposed 4 sheets of film. 30 years later they are still my favorite 2 images. What I learned was that Only by throughly knowing your subject and yourself will you give pleasure to your viewers, and you. I am still not sure if we can ever please ourselves. Seems we are our own toughest critics. When you are new to an area everything looks special and you become caught up in the idea that if you don't photograph it now you won't be able to later. So you make questionable choices, its only natural. This is why you are disappointed, you did not take the time to enjoy, learn, and find the areas magic. Go back with out your camera and just smell, listen and enjoy the wind on your face. Then get your camera and go back again.