Reconnecting with Photography

There’s a difference between taking a photo and making a photo.

Lately, I’ve not been making photos at all. My camera has become a utility tool, a mechanism for documenting utilitarian things, rather than a medium for expressing ideas.

Making a photo is a problem-solving activity. It’s about converting an idea into a physical manifestation. Framing, exposure, depth of field, colour — these are the parameters of the problem space. And when I’m busy working that problem, my other problems go away. My head clears, and I’m happier.

This one took about four dozen attempts to get the framing, focus point, and the placement of the lens flare in the upper right corner just right. I wanted the table to be the subject, but not the point of focus. Google Maps

That happiness of being lost in the work has been elusive lately. Work, health, the AI invasion, and the declining state of the world at large all conspire to leave me persuaded that there’s no point in personal artistic expression anymore.

I know that perception is a lie that has to be fought.

Two years ago, while on stress leave from work, I spent several days going walkabout to photograph my neighborhood. And I sat on those photos until just recently.

I had a few goals: to find interesting geometry in the architecture of the neighborhood; to shoot entirely for black and white, and to work with a single focal length. It was mid-March, and the last of the winter snow was still on the ground.

Are we looking at a wall or the ground? Is this plant growing out or up? Either way, since this photo was taken, the property owner uprooted the plant. The photo is duo-toned, rather than pure B&W. Google Maps

Side note: All these pics were shot with my venerable Fujifilm X100. This is the most fun and personal camera I’ve ever owned; ideal for street photography. Since I shot this series, I have updated to the X100 VI, which is a work of art in itself. I’m only slightly miffed that, after over 14 years of shooting with an X100, it has now become something of a hipster fashion accessory.

A charming and green alley in the summer; dark and mysterious during a cold night. This scene is illuminated solely by street lights – no additional lighting was added to create this mysterious look. The figure at center is my wife Uzema, positioned precisely in a pool of street light. Google Maps

This is an interesting companion and contrast to the above picture. While the above photo was planned, I had about three seconds to take this one, as the other person was walking toward me and would be in position within the frame for only a brief moment. Google Maps

While I set out to shoot only black-and-white for this series, the contrast between the vivid turquoise wall and the white snow was too good to pass up. I chose a moment in the mid-afternoon when the sunlight would be exactly parallel to the wall, creating long shadows across it for visual interest. Google Maps

Two years after I shot this series, I finally decided to print three of them in a large format and hang them in my home. These were the ones I chose to print:

Google maps locations for the Left, Center, and Right photos

It has been many years since I printed any of my own work. People’s relationship with an image is much different on paper than on a screen. A printed and framed photo has a physical presence in the room and has an implicit meaning because its existence is a deliberate choice. Photos online are ephemeral and, if you’re lucky, are consumed like M&Ms rather than simply swiped past by people conditioned to look for a dopamine rush.

I chose this trio to frame together because I think they sum up what I was trying to accomplish during a very difficult time. I’ll leave it to the viewer to name what that unifying theme is.

The images were printed on Fujicolor Pearl, a silver-halide photo paper that produces high-gloss, metallic-looking prints. Fantastic results for black-and-white photography. No glass on the frames.