I wanted to introduce you to Dave Delnea this morning. On Friday we’re releasing his eBook, Below The Horizon, and it seemed only right that you meet him first. Dave is a friend of mine, and a photographer whose craft and creativity I deeply admire. I know few photographers who have as much passion for actually going out and creating images just for the sake of their creation and engagement in the process.  You can find his work at DaveDelnea.com, and read about his career in VisionMongers. Below the Horizon launches early Friday morning, depending on your time zone, and will have a very limited time discount.

I was 22 when I made the decision to commit myself to pursuing the craft of landscape photography. Having no real clue how to go about this I did what any young, somewhat irresponsible, adventure-starved kid would do; I quit my job, jumped into my car and headed for the mountains.  I spent months living in my tent and car, eating instant noodles and hiding from the park rangers (I had a bit of an aversion to paying for campsites).  I found that the shots that I would get the most excited about were the ones that came from the very edges of the day.  I loved shooting long dusk exposures and seeing how the water and clouds would move through the frame, I would run around with my headlamp and use it to lightpaint rocks and trees in the scene, I would hike hours in the dark to get to a location to set up a star-trails shot where I would sleep beside my camera while it rendered a single image.

I have such fantastic memories of those times – and the skills I learned then are what helped to start my career in photography and continue to be an integral part of it.  I now shoot primarily for commercial clients and have applied the concepts I discuss in this ebook on photoshoots for resorts, hotels, architecture and tourism clients, ad agencies and design firms.  I still have simple shoots that are just me, my camera and a tripod – while others incorporate a whole crew of people along with elaborate lighting set-ups.  Still the concepts I use are based on the same skills learned from my park-ranger-hiding, instant-noodle-eating, time in the mountains.

I hope this coming ebook inspires you to head out with your camera at some ridiculous hour of the day so you can experience the same excitement I do at seeing these sorts of images appear on your camera’s LCD.  As I say in the book – it’s not always easy to get yourself out at those hours of the day, but I’ve never once regretted the effort.

happy shooting
dave.

Image 1:
A 6 hour exposure of the stars over the “Giant Cleft” a unique
geological feature in Cathedral Provincial Park, BC, Canada.

Image 2:
An evening twilight shot of where the the Coquihalla River meets the
Fraser River (Hope, BC, Canada)

Ever had the awkward feeling that you’re standing on stage, wearing nothing but black socks? Well over these past few days I’ve lived on a stage of sorts. Last week saw the launch of the first collaborative eBook on Craft & Vision and, sure enough, it was mine. Not only am I the first non-duChemin to put it out there, but I’m also the first non-photographer to do so (that’s where the naked part comes in—the socks are just a bonus). I wrote Growing the VisionMonger in hopes of providing a helping hand to weekend warriors and pros alike, but there was a lesson in that eBook for me too: move quickly on a good idea, regardless of the risk.

That’s what I’ve learned from being around David; when a good idea comes along, he jumps all over it. As his manager, I’m privy to David’s schedule (his tasks, his clients, his whims and stressors) and I see all that he has on his plate. What always stands out to me is how he’s always looking for a big idea and how prepared he is to make it a reality. When he gets inspired, he moves fast. Take, for example, this whole Craft & Vision thing. When hiking with him this past August, David says to me, “Hey, I’m thinking of writing an eBook, what do you think?” We chatted about it for a few minutes, as we scrambled through a gully, and that was that. Well, within a few days, wham-o! eBook out the door (and 4 more followed shortly thereafter).

So what’s his secret? Well, seeing how he’s out of the country and less able to defend himself, let me tell you. David makes small, attainable goals and then works very hard to complete them. Those initial steps happen within a day, if not within an hour. And, when inspired, he tells people about it. He doesn’t sit on a good idea; he shares it. This gives him enough feedback to make the tweaks and changes he needs to feel confident about moving forward. He also gains the support of those his trusts and enjoys working with.

So what about your ideas? Which ones have been percolating for far too long? Which ones do you want to make a move on and see become a reality? Why not take a risk, jump up on stage, and put some action to your inspiration? I would, however, recommend keeping your clothes on.

Growing The VisionMonger is available, with all the Craft & Vision titles, for only $5 from CraftAndVision.com

As a staff-shooter for a humanitarian aid organization I hear from a lot of photographers who want to know more about pursuing a career in humanitarian photography.  Most are a bit puzzled about how to get their start, and I can understand this.  It is definitely an elusive “market”, if we can even call it that, and I certainly don’t have all the answers, but here are a few thoughts of encouragement for those who may be interested…

In the beginning, we all became photographers because we desperately wanted to shoot “something”.  And that “something” was our passion.   Maybe this “something” has evolved over time. Or maybe it’s the same as day one.  But whatever “it” is currently, I think it’s safe to assume that most of us dream of shooting “it” professionally.  At least we should.  After all, that’s what brings the greatest career and life satisfaction, and that’s when we do our greatest work.  Our passion might be to Save Darfur,  it could be to stop global warming, or perhaps we just love to document everyday life as we find it.   My point is that we all dream of exploring SOMETHING with our camera for the purpose of telling the world how we feel about it.   This is what we were created for as artists.  But how do we achieve this goal professionally?  How does one get paid to shoot their passion?

Usually my advice is to show THAT work in your portfolio.  Show the work you really WANT to get, not the work that you just happen to have.  (And yes, this goes for style as well as substance.)  But naturally, this advice presents a dilemma for those whose true passion lies in traveling to and shooting in distant locations- much less when that place is dangerous or inaccessible.   If we include the need to support a family while doing this, well then the odds are surely stacked against us.

And a classic Catch 22 follows:
“How do I get assignments to these locations without a portfolio to show in the first place?  And how do I get images for that portfolio without an assignment to take me there originally”?

My next response is to start where you are…

If giving a voice to those in poverty is at the heart of what you really want to do, then go to your local food-bank or homeless shelter and volunteer to do just that.  If documenting the plight of refugees in foreign countries is what fires you up, then focus on asylum seekers in your nearest city and look at their plight through your lens. If you dream of telling stories about our environment in peril, then find a local conservation organization & volunteer to do stories for their campaigns.   In fact, I recently did just that.  And it worked out better than I could have imagined.  Here’s my experience…

Through my local newspaper I learned of an initiative to designate a 25,000-acre National Scenic Area near my home.  This was an effort to halt a large logging project in a very sensitive area.  As a concerned citizen, I looked up the campaign website and noticed a serious lack of visuals.  I decided that a nicely produced video could really help get their message out,  so I volunteered to produce one for them.   I did this for two reasons:  1) Because I had been wanting to gain professional experience in video production.  And 2) because I am PASSIONATE about conservation & outdoor recreation-  it has always been a dream of mine to shoot that professionally.

It being my first attempt at producing a documentary meant that the final product was no award winner, but the organization was more than thrilled to have it.  Plus, I gained the production skills I wanted.  But perhaps most importantly, and the moral to my story, is that because of the exposure from that project I’ve landed a contract producing a series of videos on outdoor recreation for my local Tourism Development Authority.  Kind of my dream job- and this one isn’t just volunteer work.   Who knows where this one might lead?

So why did you become a photographer in the beginning?  What do you dream of accomplishing through your work now?  It’s good to dream global, but you’ve got to start local. Name your dream assignment, then figure out what you can shoot locally to put that same passion to work immediately.

_______________________________________________

For the past 7 years Matt Powell has been a documentary photographer for the Christian aid organization Samaritan’s Purse.  Based in North Carolina with his growing family, he is currently learning the ropes of video production and pursuing his reason for living.  View his portfolio at www.mattpowellphoto.com where he also keeps a blog aimed at inspiring other photographers to put their talents to work for good.

I’m over at Scott Kelby’s blog calling for a revolution, so go check it out THERE and bring your revolutionary spirit. See you back here tomorrow.

Disclaimer: This is a peaceful, non-political revolution and we neither endorse, nor are endorsed by, Che. He’s got his own thing going on elsewhere.

Inspiration – A Beginner’s Guide

“Photographic technique is no secret and, provided the interest is there, easily assimilated. But inspiration comes from the soul and when the muse isn’t around even the best exposure meter is very little help. In the biographies, artists like Michaelangelo, Da Vinci and Bach said that their most valuable technique was their ability to inspire themselves, This is true of all artists, the moment there is something to say there becomes a way to say it.” Ralph Gibson

You know when you’re feeling inspired. Whether or not we’re photographers, we’ve probably all enjoyed that feeling of having a definite purpose combined with the energy to pursue it. It’s a great feeling, the mind is cleared of distractions, obstacles shrink to nothing, the path ahead becomes obvious and, very quickly, there’s nothing easier than taking steps towards achieving your goal, your vision. We are inspired! (More after the jump.)

That feeling of being inspired can come at unlikely and unpredictable moments. I was walking home through a torrential rainstorm yesterday, trying hard to stay dry and failing dismally. I was definitely feeling more soggy than inspired. As I splashed through yet another ankle-deep puddle I noticed what other people were doing in the rain; running beneath colourful umbrellas, peering out from doorways and looking heavenward to check out the clouds; there were a host of photo opportunities right in front of me. In a second, I’d gone from trying to protect my camera from the rain to pulling it from my camera bag to snap some of the unfolding scenes. Inspiration had come and my view of the rainy afternoon had taken a U-turn in a flash.

It’s a wonderful feeling, we’re energised and buoyant and ideas flow quickly and readily. As photographers, that kind of inspiration results in images that excite and engage our audience. Inspiration prompts us to look at things from fresh perspectives and to try new techniques. Inspiration invites us to step outside of our comfort zone and it enhances and enriches our creativity. Oh, to be inspired.

“Inspiration is wonderful when it happens, but the writer must develop an approach for the rest of the time… the wait is simply too long.” Leonard Bernstein

However, that kind of inspiration isn’t canned or bottled and it’s not for sale online. Most of us probably also know only too well how it feels when inspiration escapes us. There’s a frustration when ideas won’t come and those that we do have seem hackneyed and obvious. How we wish for inspiration on tap. I can’t offer you that, unfortunately, but I can share the strategies I use when inspiration is hiding and offer some suggestions as to how you might tempt the muse back into your creative life.

“You can’t wait for inspiration, you have to go after it with a club.” Jack London

There’s a theory, I don’t know if it’s accurate or not, which suggests that if you’re feeling glum then you should force a smile. Using the muscles in your face required to make the ends of your mouth turn up triggers a link in your brain with feelings of happiness. Do it for long enough and your gloom will begin to lift as the brain is tricked into producing “happy” chemicals. Either that or somebody will notice your fixed grin and you’ll get sectioned under the Mental Health Act. The point is that it’s possible to do certain things in reverse, starting with the outcome, thereby creating a situation in which they might have occurred naturally. It’s a bit like jump-starting a car I suppose, get the thing in motion and you can start the engine. That’s also a trick you can use to kick-start your creativity and to invite inspiration back into your life.

“Inspiration does exist, but it must find you working.” Pablo Picasso

Picking up a camera and just going through the motions of taking photographs can be a short-cut to finding inspiration. I recommend that you try to see the familiar things in your life with fresh eyes. I find it useful to think in terms of themes. Go around your house and photograph everything orange, then go around again and look for spiral shapes and photograph those. You’ll start to notice the way the folds in a towel in the bathroom take on a certain shape. You’ll see how the shoes discarded in the hallway form patterns and you’ll see how the stools beside the breakfast bar cast pleasing shadows. Take a moment and look around the room you’re in now and see all of the things that are green. Now scan your eyes around the room again and see everything that is brown. Notice how thinking of a certain theme brings different things to your attention?

Do this when you’re out with your camera and the process of seeing things differently will, I promise you, prompt you to take photographs that would ordinarily have passed you by. And, like forcing a smile, having a camera in your hand and looking through the viewfinder at things from a new perspective will kick-start the inspiration.

The important thing is to be taking photographs. Nothing else matters. We all enjoy debating the pros and cons of using certain lenses or discussing which camera bag is going to offer the best protection for our valuable kit. I’m as guilty of this as anyone else, heck, I write a blog based on such things. Yet, whilst I realise there may be something rather self-defeating in what I’m about to say, reading blogs and articles written by other people who take photographs isn’t a replacement for you actually taking photographs yourself. You can enjoy other people’s work, find their words entertaining and educational, even motivational, but that’s different from enjoying the inspiration required to make your own photographs special.

When we’re forced into taking photographs, perhaps because we only have limited time available to us or because our opportunities are limited in some way then we need to be inspired at exactly the time we have a camera in our hand and not an hour later. The trick then is to look for the beauty in your surroundings. You might think that your location is uninspiring but there will be beauty there if you look hard enough, I guarantee it. It might be in the way the light falls across an object or the manner in which the clouds are forming overhead. Perhaps it will be the curve of the lines painted in the road or the reflection in the cutlery on your dining table. We are surrounded by beauty in so many forms and, as photographers, we probably appreciate this already but I know myself that a reminder is sometimes welcome .

There’s a line in my notebook, written over dinner last night as I put down some initial thoughts for this blog post. It reads “Stop fannying around, pick up your bloody camera and photograph something”. Clearly there are more polite ways to put it and I should add the disclaimer that dinner was enjoyed with some fine Thai beer so I may have dispensed with subtlety but the sentiment is accurate.

Enjoy inspiration when it comes unannounced, it’s your Christmas bonus come early. And when you’re struggling to find inspiration, get out and do the very things that inspiration would otherwise have prompted you to do, you might just find that inspiration was out there waiting for you all the time.

Standing on the shoulders of giants

Photographers! We’re a lucky bunch. Not only do we have a rewarding occupation or satisfying pastime, we’re able to learn from those who have gone before us for free.

Other photographers’ work is readily available and close examination of it allows us to stand on the shoulders of those photographers we admire and to see much further than we would from ground-level. It’s a tricky balancing act, no doubt, but if you are willing to put in the effort, you’ll be rewarded.

And if you’re prepared to stand on a giant’s shoulders then the view will amaze, engage and inspire you. I want to tell you about one or two giants whose shoulders I have hitched a ride on in the past.

Don McCullin
It’s impossible to overestimate the influence that Don McCullin’s work has had on me. To say it has been life-changing is no exaggeration. When I first got interested in photography I would pick up books on the subject from the local library. I’d read them on the bus and in the bedroom at home, flicking through them, enjoying the images of rolling landscapes, urban views, charming portraits of people and their pets. I’d read about cameras, lenses and lighting technique and it was all good stuff. I didn’t find black and white photographs especially engaging. I couldn’t really get to grips with monochrome pictures in what is such a colourful world and suppose that I thought it was a bit old-fashioned. One day, with few books remaining on the library bookshelves that I hadn’t already borrowed, I picked up a book of black and white images by Don McCullin. I’ve never seen anything more powerful, more engaging or more harrowing. No, ‘engaging’ doesn’t do it justice, I was spellbound.

It’s many years later as I write this. I’m sitting in another library with a newer edition of the same Don McCullin book open in the desk in front of me. The emotions bound up in those pages leap out and seize me at every page-turn and I’m reminded of how I came to see a place for black and white photography and how I first came to understand that some images just can’t be shot in colour. They just can’t.

“Turkish woman discovering the body of her new husband, killed with his brother and father, 1964″.

I don’t know how to begin to describe this image from the McCullin book. There are two bodies, pools of blood, a grief-stricken widow, a family in the doorway. Bright light pours in and one of the corpses eyes are wide-open. But we’re asking questions. “What happens next?”. “Where do the people in this image go from here?”. McCullin’s captured what Cartier-Bresson called “the decisive moment” but, more than that, we can sense McCullin’s presence in the room and because we have the same view, we’re there too. You can’t avoid the tears forming.

“Christian gunmen leading away Palestinian women and children before they murder their menfolk, 1976″.

Desperate, ungodly acts captured in a photograph that you can’t help but stare at. And stare at. The facial expressions of the women and children show fear and uncertainty whilst the balaclava-clad gunmen are impassive.

And stare at.

Opening that book all those years ago revealed the gripping power that a photograph can have. It was made absolutely, shockingly clear to me that a still image can grab hold of your attention like nothing else. Take a few seconds and think about the Vietnam War. What springs to mind? I’ll bet a pound to a penny that you’re thinking of still images and not moving footage. There was plenty of both taken at the time but our brains can retain a still image much more readily than anything else and, consequently, it is the still image that has most impact.

“But hold on Gavin Gough”, I hear you declare, “I’ve seen your portfolio and you take smiley, blue-sky photos of charmingly exotic places, how can you possibly claim Don McCullin as an influence?”.

Well, let me begin by saying that I can’t claim to have been anywhere near Don McCullin’s shoulders, much less to have stood on them. But the power contained in his photographs did made me think about what it might be like to stand on this side of the camera, trying to capture something that defines my own view of the world. McCullin’s view of the world has often been grim and he admits that his work has taken a terrible toll on his mental state. One only needs to glance at his recently shot, dark and sombre interpretations of the Somerset landscape near his home to understand that he still sees things in a gloomy light but that’s HIS view of the world, it’s not mine. His is an uncomfortable perspective and I don’t believe that I have the determination to withstand anything like the emotional onslaught that McCullin has survived so I look elsewhere and photograph those things that uplift me.

“Homeless Man, Aldgate, London, 1969″.

We don’t know if he’s dead or alive. His body seems to have begun to sink into the pavement, almost becoming part of the scruffy, urban landscape. McCullin has obviously crouched down next to him and we see the grime on the homeless man’s hands, the matted hair, the foetal pose. It makes me shiver.

“Tibetan refugees at the railway station, Delhi, 1965″. Fearful despair personified.

“Child tied to a bed in a mental hospital which was under Israeli shellfire for five days”.

“The inside of an overflowing hospital, Phnom Penh, 1975″.

There really are no words.

OK, let me back up a little here. You visit David’s blog to be educated, informed and entertained, just as I do. He’s kindly invited me to post a guest article and I’ve hijacked it and with tales of outrageous misery, death and destruction. That’s like accepting an invitation to a party at someone’s house and then gutting a pig in the living room. I apologise. I’m a vegetarian. I should know better.

The truth is that if I start to write about my influences I absolutely must talk about McCullin and I can’t do that without getting emotionally involved. And surely that’s right. If you’re not forced into a ranting, raving, stream-of-consciousness monologue when you talk about your influences then, with respect, you need to find new ones.

“Catholic youths escaping from CS gas, Derry, 1971″.

But enough already. You get the picture. Go and look at some of McCullin’s work when you have time. Avoid the web site pictures if you can because I think they lack something of the impact that turning pages in a book can have. Heck, go to a library.

I saw McCullin once. He opened an exhibition at the Royal Photographic Society. I wanted to shake his hand but I was too scared. Want to talk about regrets?

So, we’re back in the library, I’ve closed the McCullin book and put it out of sight. I’m tempted to leave this article here but know that you’re probably hoping for a bit more from me so I’ll try a neat side-step and hope that moving from the sublime to the ridiculous will allow me to continue.

Martin Parr
Martin Parr is what’s called a “Social Observer”. His work is quirky and colourful and shows everyday events; shopping trips, holidays, barbecues and restaurants, with loving humour. He got into Magnum by the skin of his teeth and I’m sure there were many dissenters when his work first gained visibility in the public domain. I’ll be honest with you, sometimes I think his work is made too easily (I hope he never reads this) and that pictures of litter and people in chip shops is the lazy answer. But then I have a firm word with myself and take a closer look.

It’s then that I realise that Parr’s photographs define the very essence of photography. For me, at least.

“That’s a bit bold Gough. Please explain.”

OK. Parr’s images are frozen moments that reveal more about the scene than the content alone. You’re saying “Eh?”. What I mean is that the placement of the subject matter, the composition, the light, the angle of the framing, the depth-of-field, all combine to reveal more about the scene than the subjects alone. His under-saturated photos of English life show the nature of what it is to be English. Cooked breakfasts, Spotted Dick, garden parties, seaside holidays, it’s all here. For me, the power in his work and the inspiring thing as far as I’m concerned is that he demonstrates how fleeting moments can be captured and retained and later examined to tell us things about our world that we might not pay much attention to otherwise.

And that’s my imperative. I want to capture a few fleeting fractions of time as it was during my life. I want to say “This is where I was and this is what I saw. And I liked it”.

David’s going to start charging me if I take over his blog for much longer so I’m going to conclude with a more gentle subject.

Ansel Adams
Adams used to set off for a week in Yosemite with a handful of heavy glass plates in his rucksack. A handful. We’re talking single numbers here. For a week. You get my point. It’s obviously sacrilegious to say that you’re not always thrilled and excited by Adams’ work so I’ll refrain from doing that (although I’m not always thrilled and excited by his work). But I am definitely thrilled and excited by the manner in which he worked. I love the way he took such great care about his compositions and the way he managed his exposures with scientific precision. I’m grateful that he told us to expect no more then “twelve good pictures a year” because it lets me off the hook a little. If, as a photographer, you need a role model with a work ethic to aspire to then Ansel’s your man. And OK, I accept that some of his work does excite me on occasion. In the right light.

I’d be more foolish than the Mayor of Foolish Town, Foolish County, to suggest that I’ve come close to balancing on any of these giants’ shoulders for very long but I can claim to have peered over those shoulders for many years now and the view, let me tell you, is good.

Looking at other photographers’ work, at all levels, is invariably inspiring and I’d urge you to take every opportunity to do so. But I’ll leave you with a friendly word of caution. When it comes to your own work, seek to emulate, not imitate. You have to find your own voice and don’t be abashed if you feel your work might not be “arty” enough or if you think it should be more “gritty” or less “obvious”. Take a lesson from the great photographers, all of whom shot exactly what they wanted, and shoot what you love too.

And that’s what you get if you look over my shoulders, shoot what you love, love what you shoot. Now where have I heard that before?

Want more? Head over to Gavin’s place for my article.