Essays on Photography -- Arkansas Wildlife Photography

About the Essays Section

If one has writer's disease as I do, there is not enough space on the planet for all the things you

would like to write about. This section is devoted to my essays on being a photographer. It differs

from my news section in that it is less journalistic and more about the nature lover's life and other

relevant topics that move me. These essays are occasional musings, and arise only as the spirit

moves me. This section will get a little heady now and then. Keep a bottle of asprin nearby, and be

prepared to navigate to another area of the site before the madness gets a grip on you.

Leave Generalities Behind to Find Your Creative Voice

Recently I overheard some remarks regarding the rare snowfall we received over the Christmas

break. It was along the lines of "not enough snow for good snow pictures".

Taking this remark to heart, I realized that general statements about anything in photographic

composition are probably not very useful.

Taking this statement apart, what does it really mean? Snow will impact an image about as many

ways as one might imagine. Simplistically, it is a reliable marker for winter. Seeing snow in any

image says winter, seeing light snow is truly an Arkansas winter. Looking deeper though, the

question must be examined in a broader context. How might snow impact an image? What images

are offered up by snowy conditions that are unique, and communicate unique messages in a

photo? What settings are impacted by snow, and how? (and on and on)

As a wildlife photographer, I can attest to the usefulness of snow. One great use of light snow is

tracking animals. Admittedly this is a pretty ordinary payoff, but one that makes tracking animals

much easier. Faint animal trails and tracks become evident with the lightest snow, perhaps even

are seen best with the lightest snow. If one wished to photograph animal trails in the wood, light

snow is an excellent resource. Light snow allows one to "tell the story".

Snow always adds more light, and changes the directions of light. Snow is a white reflector, also

providing fill light. Animals with dark undersides are actually better illuminated in snow or frost. A

light snow would be enough really, perhaps better.

In landscapes it takes very little snow to change the lighting dramatically. Snow will fill light

shadows in the dark areas of compositions. A small amount can provide a specular highlight.

Snow can change the dynamic range of a photo, making it either harder or easier to take. Any color

against white will be perceived darker, and on and on. Snow can change a lot of things. It is much

more than a pile of white stuff.

But the point of this little essay is not snow, it is generalities. As I write this I am listening to

Thelonious Monk. Imagine having a conversation with this master musician and asking how much

"b flat" is required to make a great tune. He would probably wonder what you had been smoking.

Why? Because the strength of a composition is not organized around a certain amount of this note

or that, it is about the entire gestalt, all the notes, all the rests, the melody, the rhythms, the

dynamic range, the voice of the instruments, their counter pointing, harmony (and on and on).

Compositions work as a whole (or not).

Getting back to generalities, we need to evaluate "the rules" in the totality of the photographic

composition. To the point, there are no rules about snow, there is only snow. Sometimes there is a

lot of snow, sometimes very little. Snow's usefulness depends on the context, on the composition,

and the subject (etc.). A creative photographer understands that when snow is present, kind of rare

around here, it is one more tool of expression, a rare note that nature has given. Just like "b flat" or

any other note, snow is a only a note.

We photographers are composers. Outdoor photographers craft images with the "notes" we are

given. This is the essence of our art, and we will be judged only by the effectiveness of our final

compositions, not the individual "notes", and not adherence to the "rules". Generalities kill creative

expression by blocking careful thought about photo opportunities that always exist. When we move

past generalities only then can we hone our creative voice. This is the never ending path to

mastery.