In my childhood, I spent many hours looking at the sky, studying clouds. I still love looking at the sky, but these days usually have a camera handy.
The sky is often the most interesting and dramatic before, or after a storm. This one was taken just after an October storm. The sky took on an amazing hue; there was a rainbow over to my left. And the clouds kind of blew my mind. I looked up the variety, and they seem to be stratocumulus–low, lumpy layers of clouds. They look more like sheep’s wool than any other clouds I have seen.
I first met Allie Bennett in the fall of 1977, outside the Student Union Building at Acadia University. He was playing some folk tunes to a small crowd of people. I wondered why there weren’t more people listening; he was really good–a Cape Bretoner with that magic musical touch.
Fast forward to 1982. I was upstairs at Sam the Record Man on Yonge Street looking at blues albums, and there stood Allie Bennett. He was on tour with John Allan Cameron playing bass guitar; really starting to make it in the music business. We talked a bit about music and our days at Acadia.
Fast forward to 2009. I was at Stanfest in Canso, Nova Scotia. There were lots of amazing performers there that year–Don Maclean, Sarah Harmer, Matt Anderson, Lennie Gallant, Amelia Curran. I was backstage and ran into Allie. He was playing bass and fiddle for Bruce Guthro. It was great to catch up after all those years. He has had a long and prolific career as a performer, studio musician with artists such as Rita MacNeil, Stan Rogers, Murray McLauchlan, the Rankin Family, the Barra MacNeils, Mary Jane Lamond, Natalie MacMaster, Ron Hynes, Dave Gunning, and Ashley MacIsaac. Talent, dedication and the right choices will take you far.
I have always thought of black and white photography as an abstract medium and colour photography as a psychological medium. American photographer Elliott Erwitt said, “With colour you describe; with black and white you interpret.” If it’s true that colour appeals to our emotions and leaves less to our imagination, then it makes sense for us to be judicious in using it.
This can have a lot to do with how the photo is framed—how much of a particular colour, or colours to leave in or crop out. When I view a scene, then, I look for ways to combine colours–for me, it’s about balance. Sometimes a tiny splash of red is enough to counteract a sea of green, or a little orange goes well with a lot of blue. There are no hard and fast rules here, but the conscious combining of colour is something to keep in mind when you’re out taking photos.
On Instagram there are dozens of filters to choose from, each giving the image a certain look, but it seems the most-used Instagram filter is “normal”–that is, roughly the colours our eye sees. And that’s good news for an old-school guy (like me!) who believes that colour is something to be observed, not added with a filter.
Editing photographs takes time and patience. You’ll probably follow different strategies, depending on whether you’re working on an assignment, an exhibition, or a scrapbook. I’ve found it helpful to let some time pass before making choices. That could be a few days, months, or years. It’s important to try to lessen the emotional attachment to an image and see it as objectively as possible.
On his blog, American photographer Eric Kim tells a story of photographer O.C. Garza, who said, about a class he took with master street photographer Gary Winogrand, “He never developed film right after shooting it. He deliberately waited a year or two, so he would have virtually no memory of the act of taking an individual photograph. This, he claimed, made it easier for him to approach his contact sheets more critically. Winogrand said, ‘If I was in a good mood when I was shooting one day, then developed the film right away,’ he told us, ‘I might choose a picture because I remember how good I felt when I took it, not necessarily because it was a great shot.’” (To be clear on how meta this is: I’m quoting Kim quoting Garza, who’s quoting Winogrand. Four layers of photographers finding this a useful insight!)
The photo at the top of this blog post is perhaps a solid example of letting time pass in editing: It was taken in Little Italy in Toronto in 1983, and scanned some 33 years later. I didn’t think it was a worthy photo when I took it, but I do now. Time has given me a different perspective on the photo. Part of the reason is that I’m a better photo editor now than I was in my twenties.
In these days of social media, it seems to be a lot about instant gratification–how many likes a photo received that was taken just five minutes ago. Resisting the urge to post things immediately is sometimes difficult but rewarding.
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St. Clair West, Toronto, 1983 is from the series: Toronto Days
