Some of you are familiar with my admittedly odd practice of not studying other photographer’s work.  It’s something I’ve been doing for about 2 years now and it’s always been met with curiosity, dismay and sometimes even a little hostility.   I mentioned it again in the last blog and it was suggested by my friend and fantastic b&w photographer, Lance Keimig, that this might be a good discussion topic.  I agreed and so here we are.

Let me explain why I began this unconventional practice and then I’d love to hear your thoughts on it.  However, this might be a very one-sided discussion as I’ve not met many people who agree or appreciate what I’m doing.   So if I’m the lone man on this issue, some of you might need to side with me just so we can have a two-way discussion!

To start with I’d like to point out that I’ve never suggested that others should adopt this practice, I’ve just described what I was doing.  However I recognize that when one writes publicly, your words can come across as advice.

Several years ago I came to the hard realization that I was not creating with my own vision, but rather I was copying the style and even the images of my revered childhood hero’s.  The full impact of this hit home when I was attending a Portfolio Review at the Center in Santa Fe.  One of the reviewers said that it appeared I was trying to copy Ansel Adams and Edward Weston’s style.  When I responded that I was, because I loved their work, he very bluntly pointed out that Ansel already did Ansel and that no one was going to it better than Ansel.  At the time those were very hard words to hear, but over the next year I came to agree with him and it started me on the quest to create with my own vision.

As I analyzed how I was working, I came to the conclusion that when I studied another photographer’s work, I was imprinting their style onto my conscious and subconscious mind.  And then when I photographed a scene, I found myself imitating their style rather than seeing it through my own vision.  To overcome this tendency I decided to stop looking at the work of other photographer’s, as much as was practically possible.

So for the last two years I’ve tried it; I’ve not read my B&W Magazines, poured over my LensWork or sought out great photography on the web.  It’s been hard, and at times I’ve felt like a celibate monk working at a nude beach!

Has it worked?  Yes, it has had a positive affect on my art and I feel that my images are increasingly “me” and not just copies of someone else’s work.  I’m making progress and when I think of my projects such as The Ghosts of Auschwitz, The Lone Man and the Harbinger series (new image above) I’m pleased with my “direction.”

I don’t expect to continue this practice forever.  Once I’ve  better developed my vision and have become more disciplined, I’ll return to enjoying black and white photography which has been my first love since the age of 14.

But for me, at this time, and for where I’m at creatively; photographic celibacy is helping!

Cole

P.S.  I’ve just had an experience that reinforces my position on this issue.  One of my images will be in a new book entitled “Why Photographs Work” by George Barr.  Last night we were given a link to review the images chosen and as I looked for mine I came across an image by Brian Kosoff that just stopped me dead in my tracks.  It’s entitled “Three Crosses” and it’s the first image on his home page.  Do you want to guess where my mind has been all day today as I drove around town?  I’ve been looking for telephone poles in patterns so that I can imitate his work!

Bad, bad Cole.

I will think of myself as an artist, not as a photographer.

I will develop my own vision, not copy the vision of others.

I will work on seeing with my vision and not with my eyes.

I will avoid studying the work of other photographers.

I will not let the opinions of others affect how I feel about my work, for good or for bad.

I will focus on the creative process, not equipment or the technical processes.

I will shoot more often, every day if possible.

I will always stop when I see something that interests me, even if that means I’ll be late.

I will try something new and different.

I will not try to define what art is, or what it is not.

I will always encourage others in their creative process and I will appreciate those who encourage me.

I will associate with positive people.

I will get on the road and finish my Harbinger series.

I will start several new projects that excite me.

If I’m working on a project that does not excite me, I will abandon it.

When I find myself in a slump, I will not worry about it but patiently keep working and have faith that it will pass.

I will not compromise my values.

I will believe in myself, and that I can do anything I set my mind to.

I will love what I’m doing.

~

Happy New Year.

Cole

I just returned from a trip to Florida where I was hoping to get into a creative groove.  However, once there I found that I was so out of “practice” that it took me several days just to get back up to speed.  It reminded me of a recent experience.

My daughter was upset because she didn’t make the varsity basketball team.  We discussed it and came to the conclusion that if she wanted to be on the varsity team she would have to improve her skills.  She asked me how she was going to do that and I asked her a question:  What if you were to shoot 1000 hoops a day, what would happen?  She said “I’d be really good!”

Practice doesn’t just improve physical skills such as shooting hoops, it also develops and hones our creative skills.  The more I practice seeing, the more I see.  The more I practice breaking the “rules,” the more I create unique images.  The more I practice shooting differently, the more different my work will become.

It’s not rocket science; practice can improve everything we do.

It then hit me how far I had strayed from my own personal goal of shooting every day.  I had become so caught up in the “business” of photography that I had no time for the “art” of photography.  Ironically, if I kept this up there would be no “business” to take care of and I’d have plenty of time to photograph!

When I look at my work since 2004, the times I was most productive were the times I was shooting every day.  And when I say “shooting every day” I mean it literally.  I carry my gear in my truck and anytime I saw something interesting, I’d stop and shoot.  Even if I didn’t see something inspiring, I’d still stop somewhere and look.  What I usually found was that most locations had something interesting if I looked hard enough and got close enough.

I’m recommitting to shoot every day;  I’ll carry my gear with me, I’ll look constantly and I’ll shoot for at least 15 minutes a day.  I’m 100% certain that this will result in some wonderful images that otherwise would not have happened.

Cole

P.S.  I did eventually get into the spirit of things while in Florida and created the above image: Harbinger No. 12

Did I lose something?

It was there before, but now it’s gone.

Where did it go?

Will it be back?

Two years ago I stood in the lobby of a hotel in Akron, Ohio and looked up.  I saw saw a ceiling lamp, but it was more than that, it appeared to me as abstract shape that inspired me to create my Ceiling Lamps portfolio. The image above was that first lamp.

Now fast forward; three weeks ago I was back in Akron and staying at that very same hotel.  Upon checking out I thought about that lamp and looked up.  The lamp was still there, but to my surprise I could no longer “see” it, it just looked like an ordinary lamp to me.  I thought to myself; I wonder why that lamp inspired me before?

That really kind of scared me, why didn’t it look special any more?  What had I lost and could I get it back?

And what if I were walking down the street today and passed “The Angel Gabriel,” would he inspire me to stop?  If I were to stumble across that “Old Car Interior” again, would it interest me enough to photograph it?

This experience reinforces two personal beliefs that I have: first to always stop because you may not “see” that inspiration later and second, you can keep going back to the same location over and over and over and still “see” something new.  Seeing a great image has more to do with our creative mood, than with the location.

I’ll be back in Akron next year and I’ll be very curious see how I’ll “see” this lamp!

Cole

This week I was speaking to a High School photography student about how the images I create, look nothing like the images I shot.  When I photograph something, I have a vision of what the final image will look like and I work to bring the captured image in line with that vision. My art does not try to faithfully reproduce what my eyes saw, but rather to recreate what I saw in my mind’s eye or my “vision.”

I characterize my creations as being composed of 50% the shot and 50% this vision.  Bringing the shot into line with my vision starts with the image capture, sometimes I’ll underexpose like with “Alphie” above, to set the mood I’m trying to create.  Transforming the image continues as I convert it to black & white, frequently using a lot of blue channel to give a contrasty and grainy look.

But most of my vision is introduced when I dodge and burn the image, working in Photoshop like I did in the darkroom, but with infinitely more control.  Using a pen and tablet I paint the image to darken it, selectively enhance contrast and to tease out the highlights exactly where I want them.  This step is where the “created” image can take a radical departure from the original shot.

Sometimes during processing I might see a new possibility or find a surprise in the image, but generally I know from the moment of capture what the finished image will look like.  I think this ability comes from having a personal vision, knowing your capabilities and the limitations of your tools.

Alphie was created about a week ago off the Santa Cruz pier.  It was early morning and the sea lions were just becoming active and lazily floating in the water; they seemed to be stretching and waking up.  I photographed them as they took on various poses and once I saw this image, I knew that I had what I was looking for.

But as you look at Alphie, remember that you’re really seeing him through the lens of my vision, and not the lens of my camera.

Cole

What inspires you?  What gets your creative juices flowing or just gets you out the door?

I would really benefit from hearing what does it for you, because it just might work for me too.  We all go through periods of stagnation, where we doubt our abilities or worry that we’ve got no more in us.

What causes this?  Human nature I suppose.

Something I do is to listen to the Beatles, they were one of only a few groups that didn’t stuck in a “success” rut.  They kept changing and evolving even if it meant abandoning a successful formula.  They were not afraid to risk change.

How about you?  Just thinking about this question will be therapeutic and posting it will help myself and others.

Cole

Last night I watched one of my favorite movies; The Fountainhead.   Gary Cooper stars as architect Howard Roark, a stubborn and uncompromising individualist.  His designs are uniquely his, rejecting tradition and the opinions of the experts.  Because of these attitudes, he is a threat to those who require subservience.

As I seek to create, to find my own vision, Howard Roark has the ideals and standards that I admire; strong, confident, independent, and uniquely creative.

The title of this blog is “Never ask people, not about your work” and is a quote from The Fountainhead.  Roark had attended college with a fellow architect who’s idea of success was to gain the approval and admiration of others.  He came to Howard to ask him what he thought of his work:

“If you want my advice, Peter,” he said at last, “you’ve made a mistake already.  By asking me, by asking anyone.  Never ask people, not about your work. Don’t you know what you want?  How can you stand it, not to know?”

Roark’s designs were not based on what the public wanted, and he didn’t judge his success by how others reacted to it.  He had a vision and it was unimportant what others thought.  In another scene Roark declares:

“I don’t make comparisons. I never think of myself in relation to anyone else. I just refuse to measure myself as part of anything. I’m an utter egotist.

The exact opposite of Howard Roarke is Ellsworth M. Tooey, an architectural critic who depends on the opinions of others for his power.  He fears individualistic thinking because he knows that such men cannot be controlled.  Here is Tooey’s thoughts on art:

“Artistic value is achieved collectively by each man subordinating himself to the standards of the majority.”

Because Tooey fears Roark’s individualism and refusal to subordinate himself to Tooey, he attempts to destroy him by ensuring that no one will commission him to design a building.  After having successfully accomplishing this, Tooey has a chance encounter with Roark and wants to hear Roark acknowledge him:

“We’re alone.  Why don’t you tell me what you think of me?”

“But I don’t think of you”

Tooey is devastated, for his self worth is measured externally by how others view him.  Roark gave him the worse blow he could have received, he didn’t hate or admire Tooey, he didn’t think of him at all.

Roark is ultimately confident and is not constrained by others, he knows that he can do anything that he wants.  In this exchange, Roark’s “I can do anything” attitude is challenged:

“My dear fellow, who will let you?”

“That’s not the point. The point is, who will stop me?”

This is how I wish to live my art; Independently, strongly, passionately and confidently. My only measure of success shall be against my own internal standards.  I simply seek to develop my talent and to express myself through my art.

To be able to do that, and to be true to myself, is success.

Cole

Have you heard about the many tools designed to give you great black and white images?  There are special b&w conversion programs, plugins to make your images look like an Ansel Adams, monochrome ink sets, custom print profiles, hi-tech monitor calibrators and more.

Are all of these necessary to produce a great print?  I don’t know, I don’t use them.  My philosophy is “keep it simple” and for me, these tools are just expensive distractions that might make a 2% difference in the look of my image, but it takes the focus off of the 98%, the things that really matter.

Here are the secret tools and techniques that I use to create a great b&w image:

1.     Start with the right shot.  Certain images tend to lend themselves to b&w more than others and I look for subjects with great blacks and contrast opportunities.

2.     Shoot in RAW and B&W mode.  This will allow you to see the image on the camera display in b&w (making visualization and exposure easier) but the RAW image will still be in color, allowing you to convert it how you like.

3.     Convert to b&w in Photoshop using either the Channel Mixer or B&W Conversion tool.  Play with the color sliders to see how each will change the image and produce better contrasts, they can make a dramatic difference.

4.     Don’t overuse the  Photoshop global controls.   I don’t use auto adjustments, I don’t use levels and curves and I really avoid global controls because they apply the changes to the entire image.

5.     Work slowly.  I initially tweek the brightness and contrast a very small amount and then work with the dodge and burn tool to affect brightness and contrast in each area, as it needs it.  I generally set my dodge and burn to 3% and build the effect slowly.

6.     Use a decent printer.  I love the Epson series with their wonderful K3 inks, and their included b&w print mode gives fantastic results.

7.     Use a good paper.  This is an area that really does deserve some of your time and attention, but be careful not to get caught up in the search for the “perfect paper.”  I have friends who have been searching for years and the truth is that there are many wonderful papers out there that will server you well.  I personally use Hahnemuhle Photo Rag 308 and Epson Exhibition Fiber.

~

Let me oversimplify and summarize it this way; I produce my prints with a copy of Photoshop and an Epson printer, and that’s about it.  You don’t need complicated or expensive extras to create stunning black and white prints.

Now I’m not saying those extras cannot improve your prints, I’m just suggesting that the time to experiment with the extras is after you’ve produced the best print you can with the basic tools and can go no further.  Until then, that 2% extra improvement will just be an expensive distraction.

This is just my opinion of course, and there are many who could disagree with this advice.  But I’ll put my money where my mouth is and offer you a free sample print so you can see how printing with the basics can look.  I have a number of small samples left over from a previous promotion and I’ll send those out until they are all used up.

Just email me your name and address, and when you receive the print please let me know what you think.

Cole@ColeThompsonPhotography.com

Cole

P.S.  While it’s not a requirement for the free print, if you’d like to sign up for my newsletter I’d love to send it to you.  Just go to my website at www.ColeThompsonPhotography.com and click on the newsletter link to view past newsletters or to sign up.

Why do you create?  Who are you trying to please?  If you have an image that you love, but the public does not, how does this affect your opinion?

Several blogs ago I had related this story about Edward Weston as recounted by Ansel Adams:

“After dinner, Albert (Bender) asked Edward to show his prints.  They were the first work of such serious quality I had ever seen, but surprisingly I did not immediately understand or even like them; I thought them hard and mannered.  Edward never gave the impression that he expected anyone to like his work.  His prints were what they were.  He gave no explanations; in creating them his obligation to the viewer was completed.”

We all would like our work to be appreciated, but do we sometimes depend too much on the opinions of others?  Do we sometimes define our work or even ourselves as artists by what “they” think?

When you focus on producing work that others might like, your work will lack power and confidence. You can never please others, because there are just too many “others” out there and their tastes are fickle.  Only when you follow your own creative compass can you be strong, confident and truly creative.

So choose to please yourself, because when it comes to your art, your opinion is the only one that really matters.

Cole

P.S.  I chose the above image, Urban Starfish, specifically for this topic.  It’s an image that I really like, but rarely do others appreciate it.

When I was younger, the ultimate compliment someone could give me would be to say: “Your images remind me of Ansel Adams’ work.”  He was my childhood hero and I would dream of being “the next Ansel Adams.”

But then one day it hit me; there already was an Ansel Adams and nobody would ever do Ansel better than Ansel.  And was that really the extent of my ambitions and the apogee of my dreams, to copy someone else’s work?  I suddenly realized that I needed to create work that was uniquely mine.

But how?  There isn’t a subject that hasn’t been photographed many times before, so how could I create unique work?

While it is true that most everything has been photographed, it has not been photographed through my eyes.  We each have a unique vision buried inside and we must learn how to bring it out and develop it.

I am certainly not there yet, but I recognize what I must do to reach my goal.  It is this desire to see things uniquely that has led me to the controversial practice of not looking at other photographer’s work.  When I see a tree, I do not want visions of another photographer’s work flashing about in my head so that my creation simply becomes an imitation or extension of their work.

If possible, I would like to see that tree as if for the very first time, like a blind person might see it after an operation gives them sight for the very first time.  Of course this is not completely possible, but I do try to keep my mind clear of other images as much as possible.

When I photographed people on the street of Ukraine, that certainly was not a unique idea, but I hope that having people close their eyes was a unique approach.  Photographing ceiling lamps was not an original idea either, but I hope the viewpoint was.

I believe that we each have the capacity to be original, that we each have a unique vision that can be developed.  For some, like myself, it was buried deep and I didn’t even know that it was there.  Others are lucky to have this talent lying near the surface.

Cole