A mentor's joy ...

I teach and mentor others in photography, both professionals and devoted amateurs. I love doing it. But there are those moments when it becomes more, when it really becomes a special honor and a privilege. I had the occasion to write a note to a young student today, and thought I'd post it here also.

It starts out written to both the mother and her daughter. The mother has a tremendous voice, an instrument of rare power, beauty, emotion, and altitude. It is a very finely trained voice, quite capable of performing in the non-miked world of the opera stage. She's also quite a pianist, and plays for ballet and dance rehearsals ... which boggles my mind as you often do that while reading orchestral scores ... and the twenty lines of music are in different cleffs and keys ... and she sight-reads them at times! I sing and play several instruments, but this is so beyond me!

The daughter is a dancer and a photographer besides her high-school studies, and she currently lists those activities as her two passions. I've had the joy of reviewing her work this week, and will be doing more over time on the MyPhotoMentor.com website. And so, here is my email to the young lady and her mother:

To the both of you:

Part of my job 'round here is to be encouraging to about anyone. Thankfully, so far everyone here has enough internal eye to be well worth working with anyway. And when, eventually, we get some that don't have such a fine natural eye, I'll still be delighted to help them find their way in choosing and using their best subject matter.

Your daughter is NOT like anybody else, however! Talking directly to the young lady now, you can see better than many pros. You don't have the experience yet to discern the best angles all the time, and your subject placement is occasionally static. You don't even know yet how to trust your inner senses. A good share of the time you won't even hear your best inner senses through all the other gobbledegook going on in your brain. You are just starting, and these impediments are unavoidable for your skill and experience level.

Experience DOES matter, and diligence to your craft. Your ma knows this ever so well in her music, and I know has worked with you on this too. It doesn't make any difference how wonderful you are with a brush, if you don't know how to mix to get the precise shade and sheen of paints you need, you aren't going to make your painting a masterpiece. If you don't have your individual ballet elements drilled to perfection, your dance will not be what it could and therefore SHOULD be.

But some people see and hear things and feel things that others just can't ... not in the same way. It's the native sense of a blues guitarist who just holds his notes that tiniest titch out of rhythm as he slides around the pitch ... that is more interesting than any other "merely" talented guitarist. It is the interesting ideosyncracies of one finely-trained voice that make it more interesting than another, more "perfect" voice.

You can't train for those things ... you train for skills and capability, but the difference between the merely tremendously skilled and the artist is both subtle and vast. And intrinsic to the particular human.

Miriam had that ... difference ... about her, when I started her out in the studio all those years ago. I could see it lurking in the background of her images. She wanted shortcuts and I gave back general instructions here, detailed demands there. Ticked her off royal as I wouldn't give her the shortcuts that she wanted. But it was what she needed to develop the confidence and awareness of her own eye, not just to learn "the proper way to shoot X".

When Cherie's daughter was graduating from college, Miriam went to South Carolina with her for the graduation. Strolling through the streets of Charleston, Cherie couldn't believe Miriam wasn't snapping away at the beautiful and unique homes and flora they passed. Miriam gave her the camera, and Cherie came back with a couple images from the first moments she'd ever held a professional camera that many of my technically wonderful professional peers will never match.

I really ticked her off too, after she returned, when we went out shooting together. She wanted me to tell her where to point the camera for a good shot ... and I blankly refused. Cherie knew I'd done it often for students and friends, and thought me quite mean for withholding my advice. But I will NEVER do that to someone who has such a strong native eye of their own. I would NEVER interfere with such a personal element of their own talent.

And I would NEVER tell you where to point that camera! I'm not saying you should be a professional anymore than I could tell someone they "should" be an opera singer ... but you can't help but be an artist when you work with a camera. It's just there, inside you, waiting to spill out. You need practice, you need guidance, you need failures, you need skills. At times, you just need to be ignored so you will go off and do your own thing. And through it all, you need the encouragement from without and determination from within to become what you can be.

And I am thrilled beyond belief to get a chance to play a role in your development!

Wow, what a week!

I didn't do any photography this week, not even any post-processing on the computer. But it was fast and furious and I am exhausted with working at learning! I know I mention this quite often. But it seems that learning is at least two-thirds of my workload each week.

The new programs like Adobe's Lightroom (a type of program that didn't even exist just a couple years ago) can do amazing things but also can take amazing time to learn. Especially to get past all wonderful words about the glorious things they can do to find the words that explain how to do all these glorious things quickly and effectively.

That is the hardest part ... finding where someone has created actual instructions on the details of how to accomplish the marvelous end result, and without those frustrating skipped steps. What do I mean by "skipped steps"? The steps that "everybody" knows that you should do at this point ... and so do not write down or mention.

For an example that was (in it's day) legendary, I'll go to Photoshop ... about version 3 or 4. The program was still fairly new, and as most professional photographers still shot film, not many people other than graphic designers had used the program. I think they were the Photoshop Cognoscenti of the time, they just ... knew ... how it worked. Then we professional photographers started shooting in digital capture, and really needed to work our files in Photoshop.

We were not the Cognoscenti, the Initiated Ones. And at the time, there were relatively few books on doing anything in Photoshop. So we all went to the manual, to find how to do anything, and (near universally) shared this first experience. Taking manual in hand: "First I do this ... uh-huh ... now this ... right ... now ... oh wow, that is cool ... now the next step is ... WAIT! They say "do this" but all my options are grayed-out, and ... hey! ... they don't show the "crawly ants" around the image window anymore. My Photoshop won't allow me to do ANYTHING and ... how do you get rid of the crawly ants?"

As it turned out, after making a "selection" (which was shown by the "crawly ants" around the image) you needed to click outside the image but inside the image window, on the "canvas", as it was called, before Photoshop would recognize you wanted to move on, say, to do something with that selection. And nowhere in the Adobe manual nor in most other books on Photoshop in print at the time was that step ever mentioned.

That one little skipped step stopped hundreds of photographers for days each until they could find someone who knew enough to tell them what the problem was. I even managed to "click" in the appropriate area once (entirely accidentally), and didn't realize what it was I'd done ... so I couldn't replicate the feat. But finally I found someone who, in a very irritated voice at being asked about such a trivial and obvious matter ... said "You click on the canvas, dummy! How else is the program supposed to know you are done making your selection?"

Um, -- I didn't know Photoshop needed to know anything about what I was thinking ... silly me! Over the years, I've found that at times I've been not so sweet myself at helping others with the trivial or obvious, but as I catch myself at it, I have been working hard at being gentle and helpful. There are still so many things I don't find trivial or obvious!

I am so appreciative of the complete instructions, the patient tutor, the well-written details. I am working hard at learning to be as complete, patient, and well-written as I want of those around me.

What's "Real" and what's merely "posed"?

Common questions, for a portraitist ... what is "Real" as opposed to only "posed"? Or put another way, True against Fake, perhaps. If an artist poses someone, is "Truth" lost? Compared to if the artist just ... well, sort of found that someone there, I suppose? I have heard and read any number of intellectual arguments on this subject over the years. You might guess my predilections, but bear with me anyway!

Take a good-sized family, for instance. How do you get say, ten people from 2 to 50+ in age in a space so that a camera can capture all of them, sharply, and with their faces visible without at least a modicum of posing? Take this family specifically, photographed on the Oregon beaches we love to visit.

Does this look "fake"? Is there something basically "untruthful" about it? Is it "wrong"? Are these people only a poor representatin of the photographer's limited imagination? I haven't had a single reaction to this image expressing the above comments or feelings. And yet, within the context of the arguments mentioned in the first paragraph, they certainly ... from one point of view ... must be the case. For most certainly, I posed them ... at least, to begin with. And gave them a few rules ... especially, limits as to what the adults could tell or request of the little ones. They were also told they were allowed to have fun.

They ... to themselves ... are thoroughly "True" to their normal selves in this image. The aunt and niece teasing and wrestling, the couple close to each other and laughing with the rest of the family, the dad enjoying the little ones discovering this brave new world, and the grandma in-between her kids and grandkids. To this family, this is their reality, as they see themselves.

Okay, how about trying a little more "formal" posing situation, a very formal situation in fact, the artists studio? Here are Kevin Skiles and Jackie Dickey, married these many years, companion artists in song and opera, parents, best friends, peers.

Well, it certainly is a situation set-up in a studio, totally created by the photographer, me. I put her on the stool, and him behind with his arms around, and let them be a couple minutes. We talked. They enjoyed each other's presence. And then, I captured this.

They both feel this image embodies the soul and the essence of their relationship. She is his rock, all strength and beauty, and he is her surrounding, all faith and hope.

Are these images both "Posed"? Yes, within limits ... and because of that posing, they are truth. That is what the artist is for, why the artist is necessary. We see the way to truth through the tools of our various media. That's what an artist does. We make choices in order to present the truth we feel in a way that can be seen. And "push-posh" to the question of real or fake!

Do you LOVE what you do?

I had one of those thrilling moments yesterday, where I looked at an image I'd made last year and saw something new in it ... and so, I went back into Lightroom and played with it, using the "Virtual Copy" feature of LR, where I didn't alter the original. When I was done, and looked at the image I'd re-created, I realized I had also solved the puzzle of what to do with another image from the same shoot that I'd always known I wasn't finished with yet ... somehow.


It made for a joyful evening for me, and the reception of the few who've seen them, including the young woman who was the subject in both, are a delight for me also.

The first image, the one you see as a closeup of her face, was originally a vertical of her leaning against a pillar, and you still see part of her hand in this image. But I most loved the soft curving line of her jaw, and the mouth and lips. By the time I'd cropped in to the parts that seemed most beautiful for me, I knew I wanted to emphasis the lips even more, and so took the image to b/w except for carefully altering the color and increasing the saturation of the lips. I look at it now like a new image, and ... I love it.


The other, in the alleyway, I've loved for the angles and the thrust of her torso and head to the camera. With a bit of the same ideas (though applied very differently here) I desaturated the left side, bottom right, and top right, while also darkening them and lowering the contrast within those areas, and then modified the color of the lips and increased the saturation of that red. Now that image is what somehow it always needed to be in my mind.

The joys of creation anew!

What we choose matters ...

What we choose matters. You may have heard the phrase, "I don't choose to participate in the recession", or something like it. Does that mean that one can arrogantly manage to think their way out of the real world around them?

No, of course not ... but yes, it does. No ... because it is not arrogant thinking, it is positive thinking. And yes ... because the heart of any era is the emotional angst or joy of it. To maintain a positive, forwardly-active life and mental outlook we always have to choose to be outside our era. We must choose not to be bound by the physical boundaries and barriers, nor the phrenetic calls and cries of those who allow their psyche to be pushed by the emotions of the great "out there".

What we choose is really what defines what we are. Far more than our skin, height, weight, country of origin, or even our family. Our outsides are not that important, in any grand or little scheme of things. Our insides, our mental outlook and our heart, well, they really are all that matters.

Choose wisely, and you will find nuggets of wonder in any time or place. If you've read the personal acounts by survivors of the Holocaust, you should recall that through all the pain and horror, they still saw moments of wonder in the lives of those around them. Our time and place are a picnic on the beach compared to theirs!

Choose poorly, and you will never find a wonder no matter how many stars shine around you. And as I look out at the sun streaming down, the beautiful clouds passing overhead, the birds building their spring nests, and think of all the amazing humans I keep meeting day by day, I continually see more wonders to enjoy, and be uplifted by.

Eureka!

Sometimes a great notion ... doesn't come, and yet as a professional artist we need to create whether "Eureka!" strikes or not. I've also found that waiting for "Eureka!" to come pretty much guarantees that it will never come. At least, not often enough to be worth waiting for. Certainly not often enough to pay the bills!

The suspense writer Tom Clancy has said he starts every day writing for work on his newest project. His tactic to avoid writers block is simply to start by editing the writing he's already done on the project, and by the time he's done some of that, his characters are tapping at his shoulder and wanting to get back to work with him.

Alan Held, a good friend and major operatic bass/baritone, says he doesn't warm up before a performance so much to "warm up" as we would get ready for say, sports, as to find where the various parts and registers of the voice are at that moment, and massage them into a seamless "whole". Parts or registers of the voice may feel like they are in a place different from the day before, but where they are now is the place he will need to be "in" to start the performance. They also may move as the performance progresses, and so, he must constantly and fluidly adjust what he does with the voice as it feels at that moment. If parts of the voice get out of place during a performance, the beauty and majesty of the voice goes away.

Both examples are, in their own ways, simply variants imposed by our respective media on what we as artists do to keep creating on demand. And that really is the difference between the professional and the amateur in anything ... the professional must create on demand, while the amateur can wait for "Eureka!" to come from somewhere out there.

As a photographic artist, I must somehow start when the session is ready to go, and then, as it progresses, adjust what I'm doing according to how I and my subjects respond to each other and the circumstances we've chosen to work within. No matter how hard we plan, I have to be open to winging it on a moment's whim, and also be ready to guide things back into the pre-arranged plan. And there aren't any guides or rules for making these kinds of decisions. It is always a choice of the moment.

A test all professional artists must constantly pass is how wisely we choose our course during the moment of creation, whether guided by "Eureka!" or not. It becomes a test of confidence, of the willingness to simply ... trust. Whether with voice or words or camera or oil, we have to trust in something that cannot be seen at the time, and can only be measured in value after we have let it fly. Life being what it is, the value of our work is ultimately set by others, quite often not even by the people who have contracted with us to perform our services.

The life of the professional artist is ultimately and always a work of faith. A willingness to live by intangibles, and to embrace uncertainty as a daily companion. I can't say as I'd recommend it to anyone, and yet, it is all I know how to ... be. The great operatic tenor Pavarotti once said that to be a professional artist, he needed to say to the world "I am a Tenor, you must listen to me!".

Well said, Luciano, well said.

We artists must find "Eureka!" somewhere in here, even if we don't know where we'll find here when we start. It's just what we do. It's how we live.

Coming soon ...

I've got a session planned for the near future that just drives my juices. They are a couple fellow artists, working in different media than I, he a musician and she a ... hmmmm ... renaissance artist. Yes, that's it ... and think of the British pronunciation, "re| 'na| sunce" spoken in a soft, sibilant voice.

They are fun, serious, quirky, supportive, observant, experienced, and near totally child-like in their wonder of the world and the people around them. I'll be spending a day with them, doing a day-in-the-life project of a day at home in their house in the hills overlooking the Willamette Valley. Their home is filled with interesting items that tell such stories in and of themselves, and the instruments ... so many beautiful and one-of-a-kind guitars, harp-guitars, and stringed devices that I (mentally!) drool over the prospects of this shoot.

The vistas from their windows, and the quality of light that comes in through them in the early spring, well ... this is what I live for in the artistic sense of my life.

Practicality has had a hand here ... their house has been undergoing some remodeling, and was supposed to be finished a bit ago. So, when the workmen leave, we're on. Soon.

I treasure the opportunity of making the images that I will make there. We will have a great time, and together will participate in the intriguing process that results in the beautiful art that I have been given the skills and interest to create.

Someday Soon!

The Wonder of it all ...

I'm 30+ years into my professional artist career, and yet, the wonder of creating my own works and viewing the works of my peers is as strong as ever. I love the new tools I and my photographic peers have to create images of wonder and grace. I had such a thrill judging the Professional Photographers of Oregon print competition at their annual convention in Portland, Oregon last month I can't begin to describe it. The other judges of the panel were a joy: widely varied in taste and experience, very informed about professional imagery, tools, techniques, and styles, gently eloquent of their views, and willing and eager to learn from each other. What a joy!

After the judging, and for the next couple days of the convention, I got to talk "shop" with the makers of the images we'd judged, and there were some WONDERFUL images there to see! I was able to spend time in the salon simply absorbing the beauty, grace, and variety of the works displayed. And I was able to mentor some younger members of the association, always a joy and a privilege. A professional life is one of constant flux, constant immersion, constant absorption.

We sometimes don't notice the efforts of fellow artists, with our own heads bowed to grind out our daily efforts. But with the voice lessons I've been taking, for the last year, I've become even more impressed with the abilities to master their medium that classical concert and opera singers display. It looks so easy ... and in some way, it is. AFTER 20 years of training, practice, and self-driven exploration of one's own abilities and false pre-conceptions.

It wouldn't be any different for a concert oboeist or cellist, or a painter in oils. Years and years of effort, love, impatience, frustrations, and mistakes produce the graceful agility displayed by a master of any medium.

I love what I do ... and I love teaching it too. I give thanks for the life I've had, as I believe I appreciate the wonder of it all more than ever!

Just today ...

Is all I'm worried about. There is so much to do, and so little time ... and I'm down with a cold but still up working. And yet all the problems I can see around me paled yesterday. They really aren't that big a deal. You see, we had a wonderful visit yesterday with our good friends from Tanzania, Rachel and Joass, and their little 6-yr-old (and our God-daughter) Glory. In their new home they just bought and moved into, no less!

Joass and Rachel came to the US about 9 years ago, while he worked on advanced degrees in business, especially at Willamette U. here in Salem. While they were here we became good friends and their daughter was born and baptized. One of the wonders of my life was holding that beautiful little girl through part of her baptism. All too soon, their student visa was over and they went home, but it wasn't really home so much anymore. So they applied for approval to immigrate to the US, an expensive process that often takes many years. In the meantime, they started the long process of building a house in near Dar es Salaam. A couple years ago, they literally won the lottery to apply for US citizenship and started preparations to leave their old lives behind. When it was time to start moving to the US, Rachel first while Glory and Joass remained in Tanzania.

Rachel got a job and started establishing a new life here while back "home" Glory went to school and Joass continuued working for the World Bank and finishing the house they had started in Tanzania. A year passed, with Rachel here and hubby and daughter there. The house was finally finished so they could move in (I think) two nights before it was time for Glory and Joass to leave Tanzania and join Rachel here. The house that they had worked so hard on and scraped for the money to build was completed, but Rachel never saw it done nor spent a night there. They left it all behind them. Their first year together here was spent in a tiny two-bedroom apartment.

Now, Rachel works in Salem and Joass for an accounting firm in Portland, and they have a wonderful brand new home built just for them on the north edge of Keizer, in the new land they have chosen for a home. They still miss parts of their lives in Tanzania, and their families, but they feel this is such a wonderful country for little Glory to grow up in and live that it is worth the sacrifice.

Talking with Rachel and Joass yesterday, I was struck by what a huge chance and sacrifice they have chosen, leaving their culture and family behind to strike out anew in a new world. With the hope and the courage that they display every day, what can we, who have lived here all our lives, really have to worry about?

And most importantly to me, my good friend and my little God-daughter are near and part of my daily life!