The time of character filled alleys, bizarre people and veiled danger is gone from many popular street destinations, but I am ok with that.
Regular people, just being themselves can scratch the itch for me.
Technical stuff was the usual. EM5 Mk1 with the 17mm f1.8 wide open and a combination of MF and AF used.
Lots of phones.
A couple of favourites from the weekend that I want to share.
Technically going out of bounds, but not yet called.
Looking back at old files, some taken with cameras as many as four generations old (normal generations not Sony generations), basic lenses, a format some are suspicious of and sometimes “loose” technique to say the least, I am drawn once again to the question, “what is it we really need, and how do we get there?”
The first characteristsics we are often presented with when looking at cameras are pixel count and sensor size.
What does pixel count effect and how and where does sensor size come in?
Quantity of information.
The number of pixels mathematically defines the maximum resolution a sensor can produce which effects the maximum theoretical enlargement size (depending on viewing distance, image contrast, reproductuon limits etc) or the maximum realistic cropping of a file (or usually a combination of both) before pixels become visible.
I used “mathematical” and “theoretical” because to put it simply, this is only one form of measuring quality which can be affected by so many other factors. Printing has the ability to hide some degradation and has its own limits as do screens, ideal viewing distance and firmware/software is the future reality, so pixels are effectively de-throwned as the critical element. The big one is, very few viewers look as closely or a critically as photographers do.
The sensor size then determines how large each pixel is in relation to the sensor real estate. Larger sensors make pixels relatively bigger so allow the greater pixel density to be less destructive. The pixels on a 12mp full frame sensor (which some still consider to be ideal) are many times larger than those on a 20mp compact camera sized sensor, thus gathering more and cleaner light and better base image quality.
Ironically, the bigger the sensor and the greater the pixel count, the higher the bar for lenses, meaning that unless you get the best available (big, expensive, rare), you may loose some of what you gain.
The images below were taken with an older 16mp M43 sensor (EM10 mk2). They are plenty big enough to make decent sized gallery prints.
Noise.
The other feature (or benefit?) of pixel size is control of digital noise production. Larger pixels naturally create less noise as the light gatherings ability of the individual pixel is increased. Noise (grain) is created by light starved pixels failing to render information then bleeding into their neighbours, creating a “blotch” of colour or black pixels instead of harmonious colours and tones.
Think of each pixel like a little bucket. Big pixels are more hole than edge and the bottom of the bucket (the sensor) is less angled, letting in more information, smaller pixels are realtively more edge than hole (but same height) and tiny pixels are like a straw that only gathers light when the sun is directly over head. This is where the sensor size really pays in.
Again there are other factors like sensor design, processing electronics and the actual light available, but at the end of the day, all things being equal, bigger pixels gather more light.
There is a catch though. More pixels may indeed produce more digital “noise” reducing image quality, but they also produce smaller noise. This can be beneficial in certain circumstances, but is generally considerred to be less ideal than no noise at all.
What pixels do not effect are;
A file taken with a 12 year old, 16mp M43 sensor, hand held with a basic prime lens.
Visual Sharpness.
Sharpness is a product of contrast in colour, texture or light, the subject matter, focus, depth of field, clarity of glass/air/sensor, sound technique, viewing distance/light/expectations and more. Resolution, often caught up in that pool is actually not the same thing. Pixels are how much information is gathered, but not necessarily how well it is translated.
This has always been the case. With film, bigger negatives produced clean, grainless enlargements even at higher ISO ratings, but on close study, the lenses used were often less sharp inch for inch than smaller SLR lenses. What we were seeing was clarity, often shallower depth of field and the benefits of a relatively smaller enlargement size, not extreme sharpness, but it did the same thing.
Quantity can matter, but quality does also. From memory the Hassleblad 80mm for example was measured at around 65-70 line pairs per millimeter resolution (the measure we used before pixels), the Nikkor 55mm Micro managed 80-90.
Image power.
Perfect technique is irrelevant without image impact. Great photographic images have been created for well over a century. Some, especially early ones had obvious technical short comings, but regardless had the ability to hold our attention, to tell their story. Better technique was always the ideal, but a powerful image in its time was still iconic. Ironically, older, less technically perfect processes have one huge advantage, increased longevity.
The digital era heralded a period of technical improvement (much needed early on), that became infectious, addictive even. It became the habit to compare “X” to “Y”, empowering many web sites and a sub-hobby in its own right. That time has passed folks. All cameras are good enough, too good even, lenses are getting to point where their perfection is robbing them of character and the reality of end use seems to be forgotten.
Realistic needs.
Ok, lets be honest. Who among us ever prints fine art prints bigger than 16”x20” and if we do, do we leave our technical prowess at the door and throw ourselves to the mercy of just pixel counts and auto correct? Independent tests have proven that even this size cannot reproduce the full information of a 36mp sensor without unrealistic efforts being taken and if they do, we are down to viewing with a loupe. Who does that?
Maybe a book or two is your ambition, a decent web site, maybe displaying on a decent sized screen? The good news is, these all have their limits and in most cases, you have surpassed them.
Future Proofing?
I can guarantee you, your images will have to stand on their own two feet artistically or for their relevance before anyone cares a hoot about the technical issues. Issues likely only you see anyway. Things age and change, something you cannot stop. More future-proofing quality is a very small part of that picture.
I love the work of the early colourist photographers like Haas, Herzog or Leiter. I do not like the more modern takes some publishers have forced on their work, much preferring the originals for their gentle authenticity.
The truth is, the future will bring ever more powerful software to increase quality short falls, but you may actually choose to avoid that. Let them be what they are, representatives of their time and place.
This shot actually reminds me of colour images taken in the 1980’s except that the quality is too good! To capture that feel, something I like as it stirs memories of early discovery in a favourite time in my life, I would have to degrade the colour, the sharpness and brilliance of the image to increase its ‘70’s character.
We all do look too close at our images, which is our right and our bane, but we alone do that. Clients, friends, admirers look at our work on its aesthetic merits, not its technical ones. Take a bad photo perfectly and see how far you get.
There is a younger generation who seem to be split between the two opposed camps of more is better and those chasing that elusive something extra, the something that even those who lived through the many past transitions have forgotten.
So, what do we need?
Speed, accuracy, reliability, enough of everything else, which is less than the maximum possible and ourselves. Nothing more.
I read somewhere that an image should marinate for a while.
Not sure what time frame this meant, I let things run along as they do, but recently, I think I have discoverred the true meaning, but also, I realise I may have monumetally stuffed up.
Re-visiting the many Japan files, some almost a decade after they were taken, I have found some of them are better than I remembered, some even blipping on the radar seemingly for the first time.
It looks like two things were at play.
The first is, Capture 1 is definitely treating the mostly EM5 Mk1 files more respectfully, taking them from simple, sometimes gritty and often marginal files to more mature and forgiving ones, on the whole more giving.
The second thing is, sometimes it seems when you are embedded in the process, like taking seven trips to the same place in five years, many images were subconsciously filed into “same as others, ignore for now”, or even worse “won’t ever use it, delete now” categories.
Part of a series taken walking into late afternoon light in Kyoto, this one slipped through after a couple of others were chosen and thanks to poor filing and laziness, may never again have seen the light (!) of day. It is to me one of the best of examples of a people able to be “in the moment”.
The fact is, my perspective has changed, I am more respectful of my own efforts, better in touch with my “shooting head”, allowing me to recall why I took them, the hopes I had, the ideas I was chasing and the instincts I was following.
I almost needed to see them as a distanced stranger, to be able to re-see them as my own.
Closer me was clearly blinkered.
In the months following the trip, only some images, often the ones I remembered taking then reviewing with excitement were cemented in, the rest were simply part of the wave of information I consciously blocked out. I do not process while I travel, treating the whole thing like shooting film, which has its benefits and it seems, its down side.
There is also the reality that many responded better to Lightroom than others, something that is no longer an issue as C1 treats them all equally. I honestly believe that if C1 was a more main stream and friendlier to use system when the EM5.1 was launched, it may have become a legend in its own time, but LR held it back.
Many street grabs seemed too simlar to others to be of interest. Methodically working through them has allowed some to talk to me, to re-state their case, some have even lost thier voice.
So many garden shots for example, were taken almost out of habit, instinctively, but not with the type of mental commitment I would have applied to landscape images at home. No tripod, a single prime lens and often no time (or timing), combined with a head space that said “lots of gardens, all been done before and not what I am here for”, meant I took them, but gave them little thought.
A phenomenon we have noticed before is something we call “Czech Chrystal” syndrome. Chrystal in the Czech republic is everywhere, is cheap, but is also overwhelming, so it tends to be ignored. You get home and see the prices of even basic Czech chrystal in shops, groan to your self “why didn’t I fill a suit case?”, then return and repeat.
The same is true of Japan. Soo many temples, gardens and beautiful spaces, that they do tend to blur together unless you give each a decent bit of time. If not, the images taken tend to have the odd stand out, but otherwise they do blur, diminishing them. In reality, I would have to travel a long way to see better, even living where I do, so looking at each set discreetly, has revealed a decent if guiltily loose and lazy body of work.
Technically, they are good enough, compositionally many are worthy, so maybe I will be looking at two books, one of temples, gardens and quiet spaces, one of street and people?
Two books may make for some tough choices as many images fall into the catergory of “quiet place in the storm”.
The big stuff-up, eluded to above is that it seems that some time in my disorganised early period, when working with a camera became a reality and my amateur habits were found wanting, I may have mercilessly culled my early trip files to make more room.
One trip, which was a lightning week in Tokyo, only had 700 files. I am sure this is not what was taken as I average 200+ a day.
Hope I chose well.
It is not possible to “marinate” your files for years before processing them, but it is possible to revisit them, so I hope you have kept yours on file and are brave enough to take a deep dive into the once known.
The landscapes in Japan are stunning, which is no surprise as most, be they large or small, are the work of decades, centuries even.
In many of these gardens we have witnessed volunteers on their haunches, plucking weeds with tweezers!
Nara’s parkland, dear and all.
One of the most famous gardens in Japan, featured on Monte Don’s show.
Every stone chosen and placed by experts.
The little 17mm, a lens not considered perfect by any means is a champion in this style.
Even inperfection is embraced.
The whole hillside is planned and executed with the patience of a life time.
This deep forest scene is only meters away from walls and less than 100m from a city road.
With a fine balance of controlled randomness, the gardens of Japan are a symphony of gentle perfection.
A coffee stop under Kyoto train station.
Golden light in Kyoto is a meaningful, but brief moment in time as it shafts down the main street.
Taking my turn.
Suffering from a little creative fog at the moment.
My volunteer work has shifted to more mundane projects to finalise the end of the financial year, something I accept. The paper is hammering me with the reality I do not find the work (it’s shape, not the subject matter) at all satisfying and there is nothing else happening on any other front.
The reality is, the paper does nothing for my soul. The images are generally staged, limited and no matter how many you shoot, nothing much is used. Beware striking gold, it will mostly be stowed in the vault and forgotten (or used in a blog post). To be fair, sport is an exception, but has its own issues with captioning*, so I hope my reduced hours, leaning heavily towards the action laden weekends, will suit better.
The odd happy snap resonates, like a lone tree on an open plane. Need a forest, a big one.
The only shining light is revisiting the work of the past, Japan in particular. I believe you are only as good as your next image, but my huge catalogue of the past needs to be given its due.
Having to face the reality that I will likely be happier doing something else for a living and taking photos for myself only, these mean much as they are closer to the norm. The creative freedom of shooting for yourself is actually not a luxury when dealing with artistic endeavours, it is a must.
If I was assigned the task of taking this image two things would happen. I would shift thinking, possibly blocking the natural flow of getting it taken naturally, but secondly, I would probably be confused on assigning, because from an editorial perspective, how would you describe it?
The reality is, artistic photographers work hard and often for little reward, because they do not work to a defined, limited formula. That is the point and the problem.
To be financially successful, without selling out what they believe, artistic photographers need to be ahead of the game. They need to establish themselves, often oblivious to other influences, continue to change and evolve and offer only their perspective on their terms, not adopt those of others.
They need to make an audience on their terms, not pander to one purely for commercial considerations or the desire to be accepted. You need to accept the artist, not the other way around.
When an image makes sense to you, you often have no time to decide if it will resonate with others.
I do not delude myself into thinking that I am an artist, preferring to think of myself as a craftsman in the true sense. I am taking something un-original and trying to do it as well as I can, as often as I can, in preference to doing it well enough to be just suitably functional.
I refuse to be limited to thinking like a tradesman, doing what is instructed without any of the freedom of thinking I need to do better.
Is that art or just an illusion of the process?
I guess it does not matter really, because it is what I do.
*If asked to come back with 200 useful files of a sports match, I would not be daunted. If that becomes 10 with accurate captions, my shooting changes. I shoot less because for every action shot, I need to take several for identification and if that is unlikely, I simply do not bother. An un-captioned image is a useless image to the paper and I accept that. I just do not like it. Never thought I would say that. This actually happenned on the weekend. I covered a football match with only 50 images (no bursts), plenty for a page of images, but ended up taking 350+ to get numbers as well. Football is the best of them because at this level, the players have numbers front and back, but add in a lack of numbers, team lists and even educated watchers and it becomes a guessing game.
Sometimes, the best thing a street photographer can do is just sit, watch and wait.
This set was from Harajuku up near the station corner. I did not think much about these images at the time and they failed to jump out early on in processing. Their depth is the element that works. Your eye jumps forward and back. I get that now.
They are growing on me.
Below is a set that made more of an impression, but only one file at the time, taken at Shinjuku later the same day.
The second set has the theatrical light that grabs me. Big city light.
Below is another set, taken the following day at Harajuku.
Looking for supporting files for my book review of “Reclaim The Street”, I have been stumbling on some images that even though they were processed recently, seem to still avoid my full attention.
Might be a challenge to print well, but we will see.
I travel as light as I can. When travelling, especially when some street or low stress family shooting is the norm, I travel very light.
This does not leave room for adapting to other high needs photography like sport or nature. Or does it?
All the images below were taken with a 16mp, M43 EM10 mk2 and 45mm f1.8 Oly lens all cropped and before crop.
This shot shows that even with a relatively poor close focus distance, it even manages semi macro shooting.
I have a deep an abiding love of street photography.
Of all the genres, I feel the most drawn to it and find practicing street photography to be a timeless pleasure. I can in fact admit to loving and practicing street photography before I knew there was such a thing. I used to call it National Geographic style, for lack of a better term.
The thing is, it is very hard to pin down what street photography actually is and I get frustrated by artificial labels being applied.
I bought two books on the Perth trip (because big, heavy books are such a practical idea when travelling), both loosely about street photography, but very different in approach and content.
“Reclaim The Street” grabbed my attention on the very first day because the front cover image was close to one of my own favourites from Japan. It shows a Salary Man in Shibuya leaning head first into a wall. A Salary man “taking a moment” is a common enough sight and very in context with place and story.
Similar vibe to this, just more focussed on the man and only the man and more desperate, less tranquil in a sea of motion.
The second book is about portraiture by Mary-Ellen Mark, a photographer I have long wanted a decent book about, relying up until now on a battered copy of Camera and Darkroom magazine.
In it, she states that to her, Street photography is the hardest form and very different to what she does, which brings to light the differing opinions on what it actually is.
To me, Street shooting is about people and life, simple as that. The choice of whether it is overt of covert is the photographers philosophical and technical choice.
Mark is an overt documentary portraitist, which to me is a form of street photography, but she sees it as a different dicipline.
Kate Kirkwood photographs rural landscapes with a human touch proving that the literal street is not needed.
Bresson snapped Parisians doing their French thing, but could equally have posited his images as a documentary work on Parisian life.
At the end of the day, it is all about people doing their thing.
Same, same, but different.
Street photo?
The image above is just a snap of a family, or is it?
I could title it, age it even and it may become a work of some importance, but it is still a family snap. Maybe if I went back in time, or forward even it would change in importance?
The elements of a Street photo are there, people, natural interactions, place, layers, but by being familiar or mundane is it shifting into a different space?
Sally Mann photographed her own children candidly, posed and documentary style, but if you stretch the definition, they fall under the huge umbrella of Street.
Maybe this one?
This image has more “gravitas”, is more clearly layered and theatrical. It has more of a feeling of “seizing the moment”, but is it any more or less a Street photo?
I guess if you personally need to define the catergory more formally, then it can be easy to do, but for me, the types of image making I like tend to blend together with no clear lines of embargo, meaning I either have to make up a fusion term, or stretch the definition of what a Street photo is.
Maybe the easy fix is to call it all “Life Photography” and move on.
There you go, fixed :).
Henry and Roly, the sensitive ones.
May, the quiet dreamer.
Finn the schemer
Some pastels
So much world, so little time.
Some favourites, including the kids, the real reason we came over.
A little Stephen Shore, a little French Riviera.
My Martin Parr
Cool cloud.
Drinks anyone?
Finn with the boys favourite, Lego.
May, caught performing.
Finn and Henry. Finn has an amazing ability to “re-conform” computers.
Their other pass time, exploring. Henry in particular is more interested in wild life than most other things.
Spot of old school charm.
The second required a short hike, Troll tunnel included.
Messy lot apparently.
The Giants are a series of giant Trolls built on various locations around Mandurah. Each has a story and specific feel. We managed two, as they are a fair way apart and we got off to a sluggish start.
Day four in perth was spent in the city proper. As with many capitol cities, we find the centre less interesting than other laces. I bought some good books I have been after for a while and the odd one that surprised me, but other than a forced lugging of a decent encumbrance, there was little else to hold us.
The next day though, had Giants!
Mostly just people waiting for something.
Stephen Shore is an American shooter best known for his urban landscape, especially of theme parks, empty streets or holiday scenes.
One of my favourite sights of South Beach Freo.
Martin Parr is a well known British street-documentary photographer, who specialises in seaside holiday images. Not of his calibre, I was still drawing on memories of his work for these.
Red and yellow work so well as anchors.
Even yellow can hold its own.
Warriors facing the day.
