Archived posting to the Leica Users Group, 2000/07/25
[Author Prev] [Author Next] [Thread Prev] [Thread Next] [Author Index] [Topic Index] [Home] [Search]<<<<<<<<<< > For me, 5 keepers per roll is a _good_ average! 2 or 3 is more realistic. > It's depressing when you have to chuck out the whole roll after a cursory > glance! As for _really_ good pictures - 1 every ten rolls if it's going > well. > Robert Appleby >>>>>>>>>> It _is_ rather depressing, isn't it? But I'm discovering some secrets (which I'm sure you folks already know, but here it is from a rank beginner): 1. Shoot a _lot_. 2. Experiment: change subjects, positions, perspectives, distance, exposure, lighting, emulsions--anything and everything. 3. Get as much feedback as possible: review the slides/prints alone and with others so that you can learn from what you've done. I just followed rules 1 and 3 above, and here are four lessons I've learned already (I must be in a list-making mood; bear with me): a. Rule no.2 above. This may be due to my being in "learning" mode, but it could apply forever; there's really no substitute for experimentation. Having grown up (so to speak) on a zoom lens Way Back When, I've discovered that I'm lazy about composing. My feet get stuck. I need to learn to crop in the finder (move forward or backwards) or shift perspectives when taking multiple shots (move laterally or vertically). I have also found that I tend to take multiple shots without changing _anything_. Of course the subject is changing (expressions, positions), but that alone isn't teaching me much. I need to start experimenting more with bracketing, depth of field, composition, selective focus, and so on. b. Similar to lesson a, but specific advice on composition from my friend Liz: "focus on what's interesting and eliminate the rest." This speaks to the generic rule about "getting closer"--literally and figuratively (more on the latter in lesson c). I found that way too many of my shots have extraneous information that's of little or no interest: sky, street, cars, whatever. This could partly be a process of getting accustomed to shooting with the M and using framelines (I don't recall having so much extra space in my photos back in my SLR/zoom days). In any event, several of my photos could be salvaged by enlarging and cropping, which points to more effort required while composing the shot. c. Pay attention. This one's odd, and may just be me, but I've discovered (much to my chagrin) that I'm actually a _nervous_ shooter--perhaps because I'm shooting candids of people I don't know, and so feel shy about it (hopefully this will dissipate over time), or because I'm already anxious about how the image will turn out while I'm shooting it, or both. In any event, the effect is that I'm rushing my shots without waiting for the decisive moment (to be fair, at times I've already missed it due to fiddling with exposure and focus, but that occurs less frequently than hurrying the shot), and I'm being careless about basics like depth of field and framing. It's as though I'm in a just-shoot-and-get-away-quick mode. I suspect that being more attentive to what I'm shooting at the moment and my comfort level while doing so will both increase over time, and are no doubt mutually reinforcing. d. Don't worry about the throw-aways (learned this thanks to the replies on this list!). See them all as experiments to learn from, then let them go, looking forward to the next ones.... This last lesson may be the most important of all. I've had to learn it many times in many different areas of my life, but it boils down to this: if you aren't having fun, why bother? We tend to focus on products: the final image, the completed essay, the released software, and so on. But life is lived in the _process_, and so, not surprisingly, the product tends to take care of itself merely by virtue of attending to the process of creating it. I've discovered that the product nearly always reflects the process: if I'm not paying attention or enjoying what I'm doing, the product--regardless of venue--ends up disappointing. In the end, we've only got right now to work with. All else is merely memory or anticipation--figments of thought and imagination. Even our photos are not captured memories but, paraphrasing Winogrand, entirely new facts that are discovered afresh in the process of seeing them this moment. It's amazing how much you can learn after a few rolls through an M. :) Regards, Dan