Thursday, September 29, 2011

Is Digital Photography Really the Way to Go?

Twenty-five years ago, we never would have thought that anything but a Polaroid camera could give you the instant gratification of seeing your photograph seconds (well, a minute) after clicking the shutter button. But today, viewing your image on the LCD screen of a camera a few seconds after shooting is now de rigueur in our photographic society.

I often reminisce with friends and colleagues about “the good old days.” What now seems to be a dying trend, when we would load a roll of Kodachrome 64 in the back of a Pentax K1000 or Canon EOS 1, and utilize only a light meter and instincts to craft a great image. There was an art to understand the relationship between color, contrast, and light. Mixing it with composition and adding a dash of luck when you experimented. Today it’s a new game, written in ones and zeros.

In our analog days, we’d come home from a shoot with a fanny pack full of exposed rolls of film. The next day, we’d process the images in the lab, or in later years, drive to the local lab, as processing 40 + rolls of film can be daunting in a small studio. From the time we depressed the shutter button, to when the slides were spread across the light table was measured in days, not seconds.

Sorting was done manually, with “bad” images being unceremoniously tossed into the trash can. Those images we deemed “worthy,” were carefully placed in slide sleeves, cataloged and indexed before being hung in a file next to its hundreds of brethren.

Then there was my Mom. She used a Keds shoe box.

Today, my file cabinets have a layer of dust, replaced by hard drives in a server, redundantly backed up to a Drobo data robot, and a third copy in “the cloud.” Images that aren’t up to snuff are deleted, and memory cards reformatted, which means I save thousands of dollars per year with 35mm film and developing out of the equation. I have an efficient workflow and key wording system in place, where I can find any image in a matter of minutes. It’s not quite as easy as locating an image from my slide collection, I know which drawer to pull and which section it’s located in – I can pull it in seconds.

While I miss working in the darkroom (although my lungs and fingers do not miss the fumes and occasional contact with D76 developer and fixer), the digital equivalent is much faster, more precise and you don’t have to work with chemicals!

However, the digital darkroom does have its downfalls. Gone are the days of burning and dodging the light cast from the enlarger in an effort to make the perfect print; the anticipation from an exposed piece of paper as it floats in a tray of developer, the image ghosting to life; and the worry of someone opening the door to the darkroom while you’re exposing the paper! The biggest issue I’ve faced (as well as a myriad of other shooters) today is the death of a drive full of images, especially if it had not been recently backed up. I learned a long time ago that it’s not a matter of if a drive will fail, but when.

Recently, we experienced another form of digital frustration: The self-rebooting computer, AKA the Blue Screen of Death. With help from error logs, we traced the problem not to a hardware issue, or a software problem, but an image size issue. With today’s big megapixel cameras and raw processing, I routinely work with images in the 900 MB to 1.2 GB file size range. This particular machine was older, running Windows XP Professional. It has 8GB of RAM, but XP can only “see” or use 4GB, so it was literally choking on the large files, and shutting itself off as a form of protection. When this machine was built, my file sizes were about 360MB, so it ran like a champ. Not so much today. Hence its probable future role as an Umbuntu-running-kick-ass photo server.

As I’ve found in my journey through the digital realm, shooting with film was less complicated, but carried a fair level of stress, especially when the lab called to tell me there had been a “issue” while developing my slides (read: the processing machine broke down while the film was in the developer).

Do I miss the old days of photography? Sure I do. Would I ever go back to film full time? No way in h-e-double-hockey-sticks. With digital, you deal with then anxiety of drive failure or the computer wigging out. However, with backups and drive images, digital is really the way to go.

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Enjoying the Moment

It was a typical evening on Maui: I’m out on a lava outcropping, timing the waves and watching the sun as it descends towards the horizon. Simultaneously, I'm shooting, checking the histogram, tuning in subtle exposure changes and making slight composure variations.

Suddenly, there’s an unfamiliar “clunk” within the camera, and my one-second exposure is suddenly in the 30-second range. With the light getting better and better with each passing second, I quickly pull the camera off the tripod and pull the lens.

Ugh.

There, lying askew within the camera, is the mirror. I try to put it back in place, but it’s separated from the mechanism and my Canon 5D is now a paperweight.

After reciting the George Carlin Nasty Seven, I tried to think of a way to salvage the situation. I’m too far from the studio to grab another body, I have the Canon G10, but the card if full from shooting underwater earlier in the day. There’s the camera on my phone, but without any aperture adjustment in the lens, I can’t control the light the way I want. What the heck am I gonna do?

It’s simple: enjoy the moment.

I pulled a bottle of water out of my pack and found a nice scoop in the lava to serve as a seat. And for the first time in I-don’t-know-when, I watch the sunset. There’s no shutter release in my hand, I’m not counting waves, and I’m not checking exposure values. All the gear is tucked away in the pack, and there’s no salt spray to continually wipe from the lens.

The sun dips low towards the blue Pacific, and the sky fills with incredible gradients of yellow and orange, while the bottoms of the clouds start turning an incredible peach color with reddish edges. I’m awestruck by the beauty, an incredible ever-changing palette of colors, waves crashing and water swirling against lava formations. Black crabs scramble from rock to rock and mynah birds squawk as they fly by.

Normally, I watch sunsets as snippets in time, frame by frame. This was one of the rare moments to really watch a sunset, to be immersed in the beauty and tranquility. While I may not have captured the scene on a memory card, it’s burned into my memory. Not a sunset lost, but a moment enjoyed. I should probably do this more often.