There’s nothing photogenic far from your vehicle ― why search?

[Heroique]

I read somewhere that there was nothing photogenic more than 5 ft from the parking lot. That seemed pretty reasonable to me.

I won’t argue about anyone’s belief in this proverb – if it works, it works – but I suspect this is a mangled version of the original? (Tim’s entertaining quote is from the “How do you carry your tripod?” thread.)

Anyone know the actual quote and the source?

I think it was a famous photographer – a clever justification for never traveling too far from the road, if all you want is a “good shot” and you know how to compose...

Or maybe it meant there are always good shots around you, if only you could “see.”

[Gem Singer]

Didn't Edward Weston make that statement?

[Heroique]

Hah! That was my first hunch.

Certainly doesn’t sound like the ever-traipsing AA, young or old.

[Vaughn]

EW, I believe, has had something along this line attributed to him -- something like "There is nothing worthwhile 50 feet from one's car..

Then Ruth Bernard has a quote that goes something along the lines of there being a lifetime of photographs in one's backyard.

And from Ted Orland's list of photographic truths:

"1. The Best Scenic Turnouts are clearly designated by highway signs reading: NO STOPPING ANYTIME."

[Brian C. Miller]

"Anything more than 500 yds from the car just isn't photogenic."
- Brett Weston

This really depends on the locale, and how much you can pack. Some good things are miles from the road, but in most places, what is beside the road is the same thing that is miles from the road. It just all depends. If you like hiking, have fun. If you don't like hiking, enjoy the drive. If your car is busted, then make some still lifes or bike around the neighborhood.

[Heroique]

“Anything more than 500 yds from the car just isn’t photogenic.” – Brett Weston

Yes, that’s it. The “500 yards” makes a little more sense. Still wonder what Brett really meant…

— If you saw nothing in the first 500 yards, you won’t see anything in the next.

— Any 500-yard stretch of landscape is, generally, similar to the next 500-yard stretch.

— The limited gear you can carry beyond 500 yards won’t be enough for the shot.

— After hiking 500 yards, the priority is catching one’s breath – not seeing a shot.

— The shots you take near the car are more “photogenic” than those you can’t take if you’re walking, walking, walking…

— Really, there’s nothing over there. Not then, not now, not later. Trust me on this.

[Merg Ross]

[QUOTE=Heroique;695599]Yes, that’s it. The “500 yards” makes a little more sense. Still wonder what Brett really meant…

I photographed with Brett many times, and often more than 500 yards from the vehicle. Also,his FWD vehicles were often a great distance from paved roads. Bear in mind that his comment came at the time he was carrying an 8x10 over his shoulder, always over his shoulder.
There were numerous attempts to get him into the wilderness with a backpack, (I suggested it more than once) but his Army experience left him with no such desire. He had been through boot camp three times before graduation, and any thought of putting a pack on his back was out of the question.

I think the quote and sentiment, although often attributed to Brett, was certainly shared by his father. Edward made a comment about finding adequte subject matter by simply looking at the ground near his feet. The message from both was simply to survey what was at hand, and I believe both did quite well with that approach, and without excessive exercise.

[Brian C. Miller]

Bear in mind that his comment came at the time he was carrying an 8x10 over his shoulder, always over his shoulder.
There were numerous attempts to get him into the wilderness with a backpack, (I suggested it more than once) but his Army experience left him with no such desire. He had been through boot camp three times before graduation, and any thought of putting a pack on his back was out of the question.

.... Edward made a comment about finding adequte subject matter by simply looking at the ground near his feet. The message from both was simply to survey what was at hand, and I believe both did quite well with that approach, and without excessive exercise.

I don't blame Brett one bit for not wanting to shoulder a backpack. I refuse to own an AR-15 because of that isn't-it-swell-Mattie-Mattel jammamatic rifle, no matter what others think. I remember doing pushups and holding in that position with two packs on my back when I was in basic training. Ech. Carrying 40 pounds of gear on one shoulder would certaintly get tiring.

I have found plenty of things right next to the road to photograph, myself. It all involves swiveling my head like a maniac and not driving off the road.

There may be something interesting down a trail, but there's miles and miles of trails with nothing but generally the same landscape, over and over. I can think of some really good individual spots that have something good, and those are worth a hike, but there's usually some indication that it might be a good spot in the first place. Packing 50 pounds of photo gear just for nothing is something that I'll pass on, thanks.

[Steve Gledhill]

One of humankind's best attributes is its unwillingness (or at least of 99% of us) to walk out of sight of our car. This alone dramatically benefits those of us who are prepared to walk further. I'm happy to be in the remaining 1%, even with a heavy camera backpack. I don't like to contemplate what it would be like if every car's occupants were liberally spread all over every beautiful landscape!

[austin granger]

"...I’ve found that hikes precipitate a predictable mental arc. At first, the novelty of new surroundings captures the senses; there are a million fresh things to hold the attention, and I gladly bear them witness. But then, just as surely, the newness fades, and my interior world rises up to reassert itself. It seems my attention always wants to turn inward, back to my own bramble, back to my own thicket of dendrites, those ten million thoughts and desires and well-worn dead ends. I stroll along while the internal discourses are practiced, and the arguments are fought. My memories are indulged, regretted over, rearranged, or fitted with alternate endings. Material goods are acquired; how would I look, how would I feel; with that, in that, on that; Royal Blue or Goodwood Green; I’ll try them out, now the one, now the other, now back to the first. I stroll along and in my mind, people are possessed–ah, the most tempting flight of all. Of course, they are not really people but only projections of myself.

Still in all, it’d be a pleasant enough way to pass the time, if it weren’t for the dangers… For the inevitable price of such idling is that the world begins to retreat. It just fades away, passes one by, and one hardly notices it, miles after mile, year after year. It is then that though one walks through the world, it is but lightly, as if on stilts.

This is how one becomes a ghost.

I can imagine, but only just, that some people don’t live this way at all, that their minds and the world are joined together like gears. I imagine that some people manage to remain in focus.

But that is not me.

And so I must treat myself. I know some remedies. Ironically, a long hike works wonders. For though at first the condition at hand may worsen, eventually it seems, the body begins to consume the thoughts for fuel. It takes time, but eventually, the musings unconnected to the present begin to peter out. Eventually, the junk is purged. The fat is trimmed. But it’s not easy. Toward the end, the most stubborn scenes play over and over, perversely, like a song stuck in your head. At last though, even those fade away, and the world returns..."

Excerpted from 'Elegy from the Edge of a Continent: Photographing Point Reyes,' by yours truly.

I apologize for quoting myself at such length, but this topic's obviously right up my alley. My short answer is that it takes at least 500 yards.

www.austingranger.com