Photography News & Notes

"...too complicated. And obsolete."

2012-01-29T06:37:00.000-08:00

Paul Melcher hits the image licensing nail on the head.

Read Paul's latest comments on the industry here at Thoughts of a Bohemian. I think he's right on every count.

I'd like to hear what you think. Read his entry iTune it, and let me hear from you.

Photo: ©1989 David W. Sumner

Pioneering

2012-01-09T11:33:00.000-08:00

Prison in Bukhara, 1907, Sergey Mikhaylovich Prokudin-Gorsky

"...in the 1970s, at a time when William Eggleston and other artists were pioneering the use of color photography." - PDN

Please don"t misunderstand statements like this. William Eggleston didn't pioneer color photography. By the 1970's color photography dominated the worlds of fashion, travel, industrial, medical and sports photography, to name a few. Color photography was pioneered in the late 19th century. Kodak was producing Kodachrome as early as the 1920's. The Office of War Information and the FSA documented much of America's struggle through the depression and the war effort on color film beginning the early 1940s.

1940, Russell Lee for the FSA

When people mention William Eggleston as a pioneer of color photography they are referring to the fact that Eggleston was one of the first photographers using color film to be recognized by collectors of fine art photography. Collectors of art must be marketed to, as very few of them have a true and deep understanding of art, creative vision, process, craft and what it means to live the creative life of an artist.

William Eggleston, untitled, ca. 1960

Eggleston's color photography is accessible. Despite whatever complexities may be behind his calculated imagery, his work is marketable. Eggleston's photography helped galleries and dealers move collectors toward the idea that color photography was worthy of the label "fine art photography." Indeed a pioneering move in the industry, but no real significant contribution to advancement of the medium.

Courage

2012-01-06T10:59:00.001-08:00

Dale Erickson's studio, San Francisco, CA.

"Creativity takes courage." - Henri Matisse

Photo: ©2010 David W. Sumner

Color Seduction

2011-12-28T15:27:00.000-08:00

Bernice Abbot once said about photography that color gets in the way. The longer I work in photography the truer that statement becomes for me.

I'm periodically seduced by color, but more often than not color gets in the way of my seeing. I'm distracted by color and I miss the essence of a scene. The only color photography I make that I feel are successful are those in which color itself is the subject.

My natural tendency is to see through the color to find the substance of a thing. To me values of gray are more apparent than hues of color.

Photo: ©2011 David W Sumner

Define the Space

2011-12-10T19:46:00.000-08:00

There's a single light source, the sun, no artificial ambient light in the image. The drama of the image is formed by the lines of the structure against a dark sky as it is illuminated by the sun. Sunrise or sunset is irrelevant. It's the simplicity of elements and a single light source working together to isolate the dominate forms that define the space.

Photo: ©2011 David W. Sumner

The Beauty of a Simple Thing

2011-12-08T10:13:00.000-08:00

Practice looking to increase your ability to see.

Be aware that details can tell a story often overlooked.

Photos: ©2011 David W. Sumner

Master Simplicity

2011-11-29T09:11:00.001-08:00

Find the simplicity in what you do, in the way you work. Don't complicate things with what you don't know.

Experiment and learn new techniques, but look for the simplicity in each new thing.

Master the simplicity of a thing and its complexities can more easily be understood.

Photo: ©2011 David W. Sumner

Trying to Achieve a Zen Like State

2011-11-10T08:46:00.000-08:00

"…mastery of a skill is followed by a sort of amnesia, resulting in a practice that is intuitive, even involuntary." - Corey Keller

Photo: ©2011 David W. Sumner

Sometimes it Takes a Dog Story

2011-10-30T11:17:00.000-07:00

Sometimes it's really difficult to tell a story in pictures. The story is there, but if the scene, the visual side of things, just doesn't convey the message, what do you do?

Sometimes you look for the "dog story." Everybody can relate to the image of a dog. No matter what the situation, include a dog in the scene and you transcend all language and a message, what ever it may be, gets through.

In the 1992 film, "The Public Eye," Joe Pesci's character, Leon Bernstein (loosely based on photographer Arthur Fellig , better known as Weegee) is about to photograph the corpse of gangster and tells one of the attending cops, "Put the hat in there. His hat, stick it in there! People like to see the dead guy's hat."

It makes sense.

Photo: ©2011 David W. Sumner

Contrasts

2011-10-26T12:15:00.001-07:00

The other day while shooting downtown during lunch hour I noticed a considerable variety of behavior among all the office workers taking advantage of the warm, sunny weather during their noon break.

Many congregated in popular places to talk and socialize over a brown bag lunch.

Others sought quiet solitude to make phone calls.

Still others chose to stroll along the sidewalks with their partner or close friends.

These varied situations, all in the context of the lunch hour, brings a certain element of contrast to the photographing of this common phenomena. It's a contrast of subject and intent as opposed to a contrast of highlight and shadow. It becomes an important aspect in the telling of the story and helps shape the photographic narrative.

Photos: ©2011 David W. Sumner

It's About Style

2011-10-12T17:28:00.000-07:00

I've always been fascinated with fashion photography. At one point early in my pursuit of a career in photography I seriously thought I'd like to be a fashion photographer. I just liked the style and beauty of fashion images.

I was drawn to the work of Norman Parkinson, Louise Dahl-Wolfe and Gordon Parks. There was a simple elegance to their images that so appealed to me. Totally different from the fashion work being done in the 1980s and 90s.

A few photographers like Helmut Newton, maintained a similar elegance, but made provocative images higher in contrast with a certain in your face quality.

I think there is a bit of that "style" of the first half of the twentieth century creeping back into fashion, in part thanks to photographers like Scott Schuman and Bill Cunningham.

It will be interesting to see if fashion in the twenty-first century moves beyond retro-trends and toward a more original style of simple elegance.

©Norman Parkinson

©Louise Dahl-Wolfe

©Gordon Parks

The Best Light is the Light You Have...

2011-10-04T12:33:00.001-07:00

Union Station, Los Angeles, California.

In the headlights, San Francisco, California.

Through the window of a wedding shop, San Francisco, California.

Reflection in a puddle on the sidewalk, San Francisco, California.

Portrait on Water Street, San Francisco, California.

Lily and fireplace, San Francisco, California.

All photos: © David W. Sumner

3 Essential Elements

2011-09-30T13:41:00.000-07:00

"Consulting the rules of composition before taking a photograph, is like consulting the laws of gravity before going for a walk."
- Edward Weston

There are three basic elements I consider essential to a good photograph. Having said that I must point out there are thousands of good, even great photographs that lack one or more of these elements.

I don't like to think in terms of the "rules" of photography or composition. I think more in terms of guidelines. It's good to know and understand the "rules," but adhering to them can be stifling. Rules and guidelines should not restrict you. They should free you to experiment. Use them creatively. Explore their limits and push and break through this boundaries.

So here are the three basic elements to a good photograph that I keep in mind and use to guide me in making my photographs.

1. Good Light

Light doesn't have to be dramatic, bright, diffused or anything else but present. I must, however, define your subject. Light will convey your interpretation of the subject to the viewer.

Usually you have to make the most of the light available, so it's important to keep in mind how best to use the light you have to define your subject.

2. Tension

Tension attracts the viewer and draws attention to the subject and its context. You can create tension many ways: use of negative space, off center placement of the subject in the frame, motion, selective focus, uneven ratio of context to subject are all ways to achieve tension in a still image.

Tension is also a major factor in achieving the third basic element.

3. Visual Harmony

From the Greek Harmonia and Harmozo meaning agreement, to fit together, to join.

Visual harmony is a complementary balance of visual elements. The balance of elements does not necessarily have to be even or symmetrical. An uneven balance of elements can achieve visual harmony and the necessary tension to hold the viewer's attention.

Define your subject with good light, compose your image with a visual harmony that achieves the necessary visual tension and you'll have a better than good chance of consistently making good photographs.

All photos: © David W. Sumner

The Bad Old Days of Shooting Stock Revisited...Again.

2011-09-24T18:56:00.000-07:00

Based on what I witnessed here's my take on the business of shooting stock

There is certainly nothing truly "bad" about shooting images for stock.

Back in the days when we (we being me and the small group of photographers I hung out with) were trying to build up editorial clients shooting for our stock files was often a distraction or at the least additional work, of a different mind set than the focus of the job.

We were scrambling in a dramatically changing industry. In the late 1980s - 90s editors and art directors were having their budgets slashed, many photo editors were having to work on multiple publications at a time. Publishers were consolidating their staffs so individual magazines no longer had dedicated editors and directors, as a result the demand for stock images greatly increased.

Some editorial photographers saw this as a bad thing because assignments paid more and stock was cutting into assignment work. Some photographers jumped right in and started building their stock files by actually shooting stock images while on assignment. Others invested in a strategy of self-assignments to generate large numbers of stock images that anticipated the trends and needs of editorial and advertising clients. Shooting stock became a business in itself. Other photographers maintained the mindset that stock was nothing more that the seconds left over from their assignments and that if anyone wanted a look they could call.

As soon as stock became an accepted business practice, ie: as ADs and PEs began relying on it, the few stock agencies that existed at the time started aggressive campaigns to expand their representation of photographers. Agencies started getting the majority of the calls making it tougher for the independent photographer to market his/her own work.

At this point we saw the rise of the broker. Brokers served as the "middle man" between ADs and the stock agencies and independent photographers. As a result photographers would have little or no contact with the "client," the company or publication actually using the images. The broker was the new client.

Then agencies started buying up each other, anticipating a tremendous growth in the demand for stock imagery. They supported the shooters who were making a business out of shooting stock images and created teams to analyze markets, anticipate trends and tell the photographers what to shoot.

And then...a couple of billionaires took notice. Getty and Corbis gobbled up the stock business like a couple of great white sharks at an all-you-can-eat sea lion buffet. They totally gutted the business. They climbed into their own coffin when they introduced the royalty free model. When photographers aren't paid they don't shoot. Many went out of business. Amateurs love seeing their images in print and will give away images and be totally thrilled when they are offered $30 for a magazine cover. Kodak figured there were so many Kodak Moments floating around out there they would suck them all in and sell them for $0.10 each. But they lacked infrastructure so they bought The Image Bank, and in typical fashion totally ran it into the ground.

Enter the Web and the .com boom. The big boys watch as their six figure MBAs try to figure out what an FTP is and how to charge for it, the whole while publishers and Web designers were grabbing images off the internet. Lawyers were hired, they were stumped, they were fired. Sonny Bono started hacking away at the Copyright laws and poof...the stock business goes up in smoke.

It was an exciting time, full of potential and a great many creative people were working hard to create a viable industry. But ultimately those efforts were totally undermined by the short sighted greedmisters of " big business."

So when I say "The Bad Old Days of Shooting Stock," I don't mean that creating stock images, or making a business out of shooting stock is at all bad. I simply mean there was a time when it was like the "Wild West" all over again. We even had a real life Billy the Kid.

Photo: ©1990 David W. Sumner

Putting Lyrics to Pictures

2011-09-21T13:06:00.001-07:00

Seeing only dark shapes
Waving in the rain
The streetcar pulls away
I'm alone
The street lamp has burned out

Back to Basics

2011-09-20T09:24:00.000-07:00

Expose for the highlights, compose for the shadows.

I'm still in my back-to-the-basics mode. I've been shooting with my all manual cameras and avoiding my auto focus/auto exposure gear. It's been nice: slow and meditative.

I've been thinking of the basic elements of composition, or at least the elements I favor and consider vital to a good photograph. I'll talk more about that later. But what I'm finding, and of course this is going to sound utterly obvious, is that photography is a lot like cooking: With a few choice ingredients you can create one of the most delicious and satisfying dishes you have ever tasted.

It doesn't take much to make a really good photograph: A few choice elements and a certain amount of visual balance and you have makings of a most satisfying image.

Photo: ©1987 David W. Sumner

With Liberty and Justice for All...

2011-09-15T09:55:00.000-07:00

Natalie Morace:

"The American flag makes me think of the past, and the changing meaning it has for people through the decades."

"I wanted to have it in my room, for I found it to hold a nostalgic feeling of a previous US."

"In a way the flag is everywhere around us, but on a wall it is less of a representation of our country and more of a work of art and a representation of the people in the country!"

Photos: ©2011 David W. Sumner

My Last Roll of Kodachrome

2011-08-29T20:44:00.000-07:00

Never a Truer Statement

2011-08-17T13:20:00.001-07:00

"It is essential for the photographer to know the effect of his lenses. The lens is his eye, and it makes or ruins his pictures. A feeling for composition is a great asset. I think it is very much a matter of instinct. It can perhaps be developed, but I doubt it can be learned. However, to achieve his best work, the young photographer must discover what really excites him visually. He must discover his own world."

- Bill Brandt

Photo: ©2009 David W. Sumner

Seeking Stillness

2011-08-13T20:05:00.001-07:00

When I go out shooting it is most often by myself. I like the solitude I find in working a scene into an image. Even if I'm on a crowded street I can find myself so completely focused on my subject that I'm unaware of the chaos around me. In those situations I make my image and quickly move on. I don't want to get wrapped up in the social frenzy. I want to get to that next scene that seems to communicate only to me.

One day while shooting in the Financial District on a weekday, I was about to release the shutter when I heard a voice that seemed far away calling "What are you taking a picture of?" It repeated over and over. But I was fixed on my subject and never made the connection between the voice and what I was doing.

After I made the image I lowered the camera, looked over my shoulder and there was a woman in business dress with a brief case looking off in the direction I had been focused on still loudly asking "What are you taking a picture of?" She was right in my face. While I was working I had no sense of her being there except for that little far off voice.

I had no response. I was dazed. I was not at all in her world. I was working my craft as a solitary pursuit much the same way a writer does. I simply turned and walked away. I was shaken and rattled into someone else's reality and I didn't want to be there.

When I'm out on the street working I'm seeking a stillness, an opportunity to find a connection with some interesting aspect of my environment. I'm patient and wait for people or cars to move out of the scene. I'm focused. Sometimes patience and focus aren't enough and I don't make the image. It's something for another day. But persistence in this approach to working usually pays off.

People have said about some of my images that they possess a "timeless quality." I suppose those that do, appear that way because of my efforts to eliminate certain elements that may place the scene in a very specific time. What ever the case may be you can be sure that my images are definitely of the here and now. Maybe it's the stillness that seems to freeze time even more solidly than the fraction of a second it takes to commit the image to film.

Photo: ©2011 David W. Sumner

Go After it...

2011-08-01T17:40:00.000-07:00

"You can't wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club."
- Jack London

Slowly Moving at a Frantic Pace

2011-07-24T09:38:00.000-07:00

As I move through this most recent transition from a full time job to cobbling together a living I often find myself exhausted from the juggling of schedules and resources and the navigating of various bureaucracies. But I still manage to get in a little shooting here and there. In fact I'm actually behind in my scanning of negs, and the number of rolls of film to be processed increases each week.

To all appearances it seems that my creative out-put has dropped dramatically and the hours devoted each week to my photography are indeed fewer, yet I am creating new images.

While the day to day business of making a living has become a most time consuming struggle the mill of my creative work keeps grinding away, slowly, persistently moving me forward.

Photo: ©2011 David W. Sumner

Consider the Percentages

2011-07-13T19:21:00.000-07:00

A while ago I told a friend of mine that I was averaging 7 good frames per every role of film I was shooting. He was surprised and said that was high. It didn't seem high to me.

Back when I was shooting with the intention of having editorial pieces published, I figured that if I didn't get 20 good "keepers" out of a roll of 36 frames I wasn't getting the job done.

I don't know what other photographers consider a good "take," but if I'm not walking away with at least 5 good frames per roll I'm doing something wrong.

I don't shoot the same way I did when I was trying to consistently get published. I rarely shoot transparencies and I seldom bracket and I have the time to let the story develop, if there is one.

I went on a shoot today. I had a very specific objective, to document a single scene for my Flag project. I knew I wouldn't need a lot of film to get what I wanted. I started shooting with an FM2 that had about 25 frames left on the roll. When I finished I knew I had what I wanted. I knew I had 5 good shots.

The whole time I was shooting I was thinking of another possible angle or point of view from which to approach the subject. Then I turned my back to the subject and saw a mirror across the room. I went to work on the reflection in the mirror. Then back at my original shooting position, I put my busted up 20mm lens on the FM2 and started over.

I got what I wanted because I was thinking the whole time, moving, considering every corner of the room. When I saw the shot I settled in, concentrating on making the image.

I used a couple other cameras to get a few close ups and some color images of the entire room. In all, I shot about 35 frames and I know I walked away with at least 8 good images. That's all I need. So, considering the percentages it was a good day's work.

Photo: ©2011 David W. Sumner

Sad But Not Necessarily Bad News

2011-07-03T21:08:00.001-07:00

One month ago I was laid off from a job I had held for ten years. Sad, but not necessarily bad news.

I've been here before. I know the routine. It's a bit tougher being 52. It all seemed easier when I was younger. Rather than bouncing back these days it's more like a steep climb. But I do it. I made some decisions a long time ago that made this sort of thing a regular part of the equation.

To be able to make a living working at those types of jobs that allow me the time and energy to pursue my personal and creative work I have to realize that those are not the most stable of positions and be able to roll with the punches.

I've created a life style that I consider very rich and satisfying. The concessions I made twenty years ago have long since been forgotten and never seemed like sacrifices. Some people still wonder why I don't own a car, have credit cards, have cable TV, or want to own a house. Imagine the fix I'd be in today if I had all those obligations at 52 having just lost my job?

I live in a city in which a car isn't necessary, I rent a house I can move out of with a 30 day notice, I have no debt, I spend my free time pursuing my photography and enjoying my huge network of friends most of whom are painters, writers, photographers, actors, musicians.

Low stress jobs that allow flexible hours and make no demands beyond the normal 8 hour day are often not the best paying jobs and often not the most secure. But they do allow one to maintain a certain degree of control over one's own life.

Since moving to the Bay Area 23 years ago to practice the art and craft of photography I've held 7 different jobs. I worked for a couple of well known photographers, I worked at a photo lab, at a stock photo agency, at an art store, at a little museum and now I'm starting a new "little" job at a big museum. It was time for a change of venue. I know from past experience that the white water ahead will soon yield to a gently flowing current that will take me farther along my journey.

The photo above shows my desk at Mountain Light Photography. I worked there for almost two years. It was the first job I had after moving here from Southern California. I was a photo researcher and I loved the work. That was over 20 years ago. I've come a long way since then. There's been some white water but for the most part it's been smooth sailing.

Photo: ©1989 David W. Sumner

With Liberty and Justice for All

2011-07-01T14:27:00.001-07:00

I've been shooting images of the flag for a few years now. This has become a project which is beginning to take on some sort of shape. Where it will end or what I will learn from it is still a big unknown.

Public display of the US flag is not uncommon. We expect to see it in a variety of public settings. But what is it that compels some individuals, ordinary citizens, to display the flag in a window, on a pole in front of their houses or on their cars?

There are of course the obvious motivations: patriotism, nationalism, solidarity. But over the past decade the flag has come to represent many different things to different people. For some it is a buffer of protection, for others it represents an over abundance of false promises and still for others it serves as a warning.

It has become more acceptable to include the flag in the design of products, packaging and apparel. The meaning, the symbolism present in the image of the US flag has become more complicated and much harder to define than at any time in the past.

Is the flag something people, as a nation, can stand behind or is it becoming a symbol they prefer to hide behind?

Photo: ©2011 David W. Sumner

A Little Travel

2011-06-24T10:32:00.001-07:00

We're back from Seattle. It was a good trip and a nice break from the regular routine. As I planned I took the opportunity to approach photographing a bit differently.

I used only manual cameras and a hand held light meter. But I did document a bit of each day with a digital point and shoot to be able to post to the internet while on the road and to have a few images to discuss while waiting for my film to be processed.

It was refreshing and fun. I noticed that I spent more time considering a scene before making a photograph. I composed more carefully and I spent more time watching the light. Of course using electronic auto-exposure equipment doesn't mean one necessarily stops doing these things, but the tendency to rely on the camera's computer does give one the opportunity to pay less attention.

I enjoyed spending more time with a subject as the process was slowed down. For me that has allowed better personal memories of special places and moments. One spot in particular was the gate to August Wilson Way at Seattle Center. It's a wonderful spot of quiet contemplation and taking the time to think through making pictures of this unique spot added to the experience and my memory of it.

The trip was a nice exercise and I plan to repeat it often here at home. It's really nice to have all these options and to be able to pick and choose the appropriate one for the occasion.

Photo: Hotel room kitchen, ©2011 David W. Sumner

All You Need to Know...

2011-06-08T14:28:00.001-07:00

"All you need to know about photography is

what's written on the box of film."
- Elliott Erwitt

Packing Light

2011-05-31T19:15:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago I wrote about taking it easy, slowing down, making pictures the old fashioned way, the all manual, mechanical way. Well I've been practicing quite a bit, no auto focus or auto exposure, no auto advance, and I have to say I've really been enjoying myself.

There's a rhythm I'm back into that I hadn't realized I really missed. This is the way I was shooting in the 80s: small, light, manual and completely mechanical SLRs. There's a distinct rhythm to advancing the film, turning the focusing ring, checking the exposure, framing the image and squeezing the shutter release that isn't quite the same when working with the electronic, auto everything camera bodies.

Make no mistake, I love my F100 and will never give it up. But I work differently with it and I think I make a different kind of photograph with it than I do with my F2 and FM2 bodies. There's not a huge difference between the images I make with the different cameras, it's a subtle difference I can see and feel.

I'll be heading up to Seattle in a couple of weeks and I'm packing light. As you can see I'm taking an F2 and an FM2. I may add a 24mm lens to the bag but basically this is it: the two manual/mechanical bodies, 28mm, 35mm, 50mm and 135mm lenses, the hand-held light meter and about ten rolls of film. That will be my working kit for about ten days.

I'm going to try to pay close attention to how I work, to see if I'm more careful and a little more discriminating. I think I have been so far, I see it in my most recent images. But this will be a good test, being in a totally different environment, seeing new things with a fresh perspective. It will be exciting. It will be what photography should be, fun. I'm looking forward to that.

Photo: ©2011 David W. Sumner

It's "the Way" You See.

2011-05-22T15:56:00.000-07:00

I was thinking about this drawing today when I was out walking and stopped to photograph the front of a little cottage on 46th avenue.

Last January I was in LA at LACMA and saw, for the first time, a painting by Alexander Rodchenko. Familiar with his photography and design work I had never seen any of his paintings. I was very impressed and I immediately saw the connection to the rest of his work. It was after my visit to LACMA that I made this little drawing.

I think what has always impressed me most about Rodchenko's work is the persistent presence of his unique vision, his eye, his way of seeing. It has, at various times, inspired me to change my perspective, or alter my angle of view toward the subject in my view finder.

Seeing must be practiced and taking opportunities to see in different ways is always good practice.

"To me, photography is an art of observation. It's about finding something interesting in an ordinary place.... I've found it has little to do with the things you see and everything to do with the way you see them." - Elliot Erwitt

And When I'm Gone?

2011-05-15T20:11:00.001-07:00

We all, and I mean me and most photographers I know, wonder what will happen to our life's work when we are gone.

What will happen to all our negatives, transparencies, digital files and prints when we are no longer here to care for and preserve and print or publish our images? What, if any value will those images be to anyone but ourselves?

Well, I believe that what we are doing as photographers is important in that we are documenting the times and conditions of the society in which we live. We are creating an important visual document in a very specific place, of a specific point in time in the history of the human condition. That document may not look impressive or important or insightful right now. But twenty-five, thirty, maybe fifty years from now another generation will look at those images and be informed by a unique vision of the past that has become part of the history of their lives. They may find some answers to some haunting questions that would otherwise remain unresolved.

We are seeing examples of this happening today as the work of many dedicated photographers who made their livings as dentists, insurance brokers, nannies and the like, is being discovered by relatives and flea market hunters. Thousands of negatives and prints hidden away in shoe boxes, suitcases, trunks and drawers are being found everyday. And much of this rediscovered work is providing insights and detailed information into some of the forgotten or ignored facets of our cultural and social evolution.

Most recently you may have heard of the rediscovery of the work of Vivian Maier and Frank Larson. Just two names among hundreds if not thousands of photographers who spent a lifetime documenting the places they lived in and traveled to. This is important work. Take a look, what do you see? What do you recognize? What don't you recognize? What's changed? What's the same? That's our society and culture in another time. What we are looking at is the vehicle that carried us to the present day.

As photographers we are aware of this and grateful that such bodies of work have not been lost. We also realize that much has been lost and we need to plan for the safekeeping and preservation of our own work. We understand that today, for us, there is a value to the images we make, but it's often hard to imagine who in the future will see them in the same way. And that's where we make our biggest mistake. Our images won't be seen in the same way we see them today. They will be seen by different eyes in another time, by people with vastly different knowledge than we possess and who will value those images in ways we will never imagine.

What we photograph today is the very foundation of tomorrow. It's what will someday be called history.

Photo: ©2011 David W. Sumner

A Life in Cafes

2011-05-08T08:38:00.001-07:00

I love cafes. I consider myself a seasoned cafe sitter. There is a long and colorful history of cafe sitting. It has been celebrated in literature and film. Paris is probably the most famous city for cafe sitting.

There is a serious cafe culture here in San Francisco. Coffee houses and roasteries and crepe houses form the foundation of this social necessity.

In the 1990's the laptop computer gave the SF cafe culture an infusion of fresh blood introducing a new generation to this simple luxury so thoroughly romanticized by Hemingway in the 1920s.

I've been photographing cafes from both inside and outside for some time and I'm seeing some shape to the culture of the cafe in San Francisco. I'll be working to distill all of this into a coherent project in the near future. In the meantime here's a link to my May 2011 Flickr gallery featuring a taste of the cafe in San Francisco.

Photo: ©2010 David W. Sumner

Do Not Try This At Home!

2011-05-01T18:57:00.001-07:00

After 22 years of taking exceptionally good care of my Nikkor 20mm f/2.8 ultra wide lens, babying it like it was a solid gold egg, I got very careless and swung a Nikon F2 over my shoulder, forgetting I had another camera hanging there, and the F2 smacked my 20mm lens pretty hard.

Nothing broke, but it was soon apparent something was very wrong. The focusing ring was very tight and hard to turn as it approached the infinity mark. Taking a look through the view finder the only area in focus was absolute dead center, every edge moving inward was glaringly out of focus. In the back of my mind all I could hear was that famous line delivered so well by Charlie Brown, "I'm doomed."

It was a little sad after all the years to do something so dumb and damage one of my prize pieces of equipment, one of the few pieces of camera gear I ever bought brand new. But hey, 22 years is a good run.

It turns out that the over all effect achieved when shooting with the now totally messed up lens isn't all that unpleasing. When I scanned some recent negs I realized the images look something like one would expect from shooting with a Lens Baby. One of my Flickr contacts in Paris suggested that process of bashing the lens with the F2 created an instant Holga. One of my friends here in San Francisco briefly contemplated giving his M6 and Summicron 35mm a good whack with his F4.

I have to say I find the images I'm making with the 20mm in its present condition interesting, and until I can afford to have the lens repaired I think I may explore the creative potential of this not so unfortunate mishap.

Photo: ©2011 David W. Sumner

This Old Thing?

2011-04-24T18:14:00.000-07:00

I was out shooting a bit this afternoon, finishing off a roll in my Nikon F. The weather was f/16 at 1/500 so I headed down to Java Beach for some coffee and people watching.

I was sitting outside, camera in hand, when a fellow in his mid 20's came out of the cafe talking with his girl friend. When the couple passed in front of me the fellow interrupted his conversation and quietly said, almost to himself, "Cool camera." He immediately resumed his discussion with his girlfriend and they walked on down the street.

It took a second for me to register what he had said and that he was referring to my beat up, 40 year old F with it's equally beat up, mold infested, 24mm lens. I looked down at my camera and I thought, "This old thing?" I mean, I know why a Nikon F is cool. I know it's history, I know what it's capable of, I appreciate the fact that after 40 years and who knows how many owners, that my F may be beat all to hell but it still works almost perfectly. But what did this kid know? I'm guessing he just saw an "old" camera, and old stuff, stuff one might consider "vintage," is in style, is cool, is even hip, as it were.

It's odd, there was a time when I would have been almost embarrassed to show up certain places with my old F hanging on my shoulder. Photographers I knew were ragging each other for still using the F3 and not popping for an F4s. But today, here I am lugging around an ancient film camera and I'm the hippest old dude on my block. Now that's cool.

Photo: ©2011 David W. Sumner

This is Where I Work

2011-04-18T19:24:00.001-07:00

When I'm not at my day job or out shooting, this is where I live. I have to admit that I'm here at this desk more often than I'm out shooting.

This is my "dark room," where I take my film, edit my images and make them ready for printing. This is where I scan my negs and prepare digital files for flickr and this Blog. This is where I write and do most of my communicating with the rest of the world.

Through this Blog, my flickr page, my facebook page and my Twitter stream and my MagCloud publishing, more people, and I mean people around the world, are seeing my images on a daily basis than ever saw my work in the years I worked at digging up editorial assignments and selling stock images.

There are people in London, Paris, Tokyo, Moscow, Rio, Tel Aviv, Manila and Sydney who are familiar with my work and know me only as a photographer in the US. I find that amazing. And it all happens right here at this desk.

We won't know what will be possible tomorrow until we make it happen, and the truly amazing thing about that is…we can.

Photo: ©2011 David W. Sumner

Early Hints of an Evolving Style

2011-04-12T19:01:00.000-07:00

It takes years to develop a style. Often one's style only becomes apparent after taking the time to step back, look at an entire body of work and identify the commonality and persistent themes present in individual images as they float to the top.

On those occasions people have commented on my "style" of photography, I usually walk away wondering what "style" do they mean, what are they seeing and is it something I'm not seeing?

Lately I've been digging through a lot of old negs, some almost 30 years old. There's a tremendous amount of crap in those files, some really bad pictures. But they have value in that they are providing a context for the evolution of my photography. Amongst all that swirling debris something occasionally pops to the surface giving me a hint of what was deep down there, struggling to find a place in the forefront of my consciousness. Hints of a style that would come to dominate my creative work.

Recently a friend of mine commented on the image above made 23 years ago, saying, "You've been doing this for quite a while." He's right. But when I made this image I didn't realize I was making something that would eventually be recognized as my "style." It was there all along, I just had to spend a lot of years coaxing it out of it's hiding place. I'm not sure I've been entirely successful, but at least I now know for sure where it lives.

Photo: ©1988 David W.Sumner

36exp

2011-04-02T18:54:00.001-07:00

The idea of telling a story or conveying a concept of any sort in the confines of 36 frames of 35mm film has always intrigued me. I've read dozens of stories by photojournalists who made it their practice to work every assignment as if the had only 36 exposures with which to nail down the essence, the heart and soul of a story. Some newspaper photographers used to try to get six assignments a day on one roll of film.

It's not easy. It's a skill to be developed. I've never actually tried it, but recently I've approached the idea from a slightly different perspective. Imagine you're a photographer and an editor tells you, "OK, you've been to Pakistan three times, you've made images all over the country. Now show me Pakistan, show me your vision of Pakistan and do it with 36 images or fewer. Better yet do it with no more than 10." Could you do it?

That's the challenge I and a few friends have set before us. We've formed a little group and put together a "print on demand" quarterly, the first issue of which is available today. It's called "36exp." The concept is simple: with as few images as possible get to the heart of the subject. Make us understand it and see through your vision of it's very essence.

Future issues will feature individual photographers and their personal projects, and others will feature a single subject explored by group of photographers presenting a variety of unique perspectives on a single topic.

There is no profit in the publishing of this journal. The price of an issue covers only printing and shipping and stays with the printer. There is no mark up. There is a free download version available for mobile devices such as the iPad.

I hope you have a chance to take a look. there is a lot of good work being done by talented and dedicated photographers you have never heard of. I hope we can bring some of that work to a broader public, share some important stories and see our world through different eyes from time to time.

Photo: Cover of issue 1 of 36exp. Cover image, ©Marianna Whang

Nice and Easy

2011-03-27T20:39:00.001-07:00

Its' good to slow down. As a rule I don't rush things, but sometimes I find I get so comfortable with a particular habit of working that I find I'm not taking the time to pay close attention to what I'm doing. There are times I think that habit is a detriment to my work. So occasionally I try to shake things up a bit, challenge the usual routines.

The other day I bought some silver based B&W film. The stuff I shot for twenty years before switching to a chromogenic B&W film. Just loading it into my forty year old Nikon F had a completely different feel. I dug out a #10 orange filter and my hand held light meter and went out for a walk. For a few minutes it was as if I was rediscovering photography all over again. It was fresh.

I messed up some frames when I didn't read the meter properly. It took some remembering and getting used to, but it didn't take long to get into the groove.

No auto modes, no auto advance, no perfectly, computer calculated exposures. It was just me thinking through the steps, making decisions, deciding just how I was going to put that light to that silver.

It was a good feeling…taking my time.

Photo: ©David W. Sumner

Atget, Roses

2011-03-20T18:05:00.000-07:00

Eugène Atget:  French, Paris, 1922 - 1923  Albumen print

"In order to make the "documents for artists" that the sign outside his door advertised, Atget had to consider what types of photographs would be useful to artists as source material. His clientele included textile designers, wallpaper designers, and painters, all of whom could have found this image of roses in bloom quite valuable."

Image and text courtesy The J. Paul Getty Museum

From the Archives

2011-03-13T15:22:00.000-07:00

I've been digging through the old stock image files and I thought it would be fun to post a series of images focused on a coastal theme.

Keep in mind these images were intended for magazine publication and one had to always be conscious of the fact that type would likely be placed somewhere in the image. So placing some good, clean, negative space in the frame was important.

Mt. Tam at sunset from Emeryville, California. ©1990 David W. Sumner

Rich, saturated colors and strong contrast were necessary elements for photo editors of the outdoor and nature publications.

Rodeo Beach, Marin, California. ©1988 David W. Sumner

Strong, warm side light from the setting sun is always a good bet for adding a little drama
to an ordinary scene.

Rodeo Beach, Marin, California. ©1988 David W. Sumner

Exposing for the scene's highlights and composing for the shadows increases the contrast and limits your color palette creating even more drama in the image.

Rodeo Beach, Marin, California. ©1988 David W. Sumner

Finding Emmet Gowin

2011-03-06T20:05:00.000-08:00

"We know more than we say…We tell those things that we feel have a chance poetically of fitting back into life." - Emmet Gowin

I'm embarrassed to say I only learned of Emmet Gowin today. An inspiration to anyone pursing a creative life and a photographer of considerable intellect and wisdom, Gowin recently retired after 30 plus years teaching at Princeton.

Articulate both visually and verbally, I found this interview clip from the 1980s rather moving and in fact profound.

I'd encourage any photographer who has yet to discover the world of Emmet Gowin to begin the exploration today.

Here are some links to other interviews and articles

http://www.princetonartmuseum.org/news/Gowin/

http://www.americansuburbx.com/2009/01/theory-interview-with-emmet-gowin.html

Photo: © Ricardo Barros / courtesy pf Princeton Alumni Weekly

What's the Story?

2011-03-02T20:59:00.001-08:00

You know the old saying, "A picture is worth a thousand words." Well I've often wondered about that. I've seen photos that have left me speechless. No words come to mind that can communicate the power or drama expressed in some photographs. I figure those images are worth more than any number of words.

And there are images that seemingly tell a story, but what exactly that story is isn't always clear. The image above is a good example. What's the story here? I was there, I know what time it was, I know where it was, I know what happened just before and just after I snapped the shutter. I could tell you the story. But what story is this image telling by itself?

That's the real power of photography. It's not just about telling the truth or exposing the lies. It's about speaking a visual language that transcends all verbal communication. That's the power we wield when we pick up a camera. It's also the responsibility we bear as photographers.

Photo: ©2010 David W. Sumner

In Good Company

2011-02-19T18:47:00.001-08:00

I've been shooting pictures for over 30 years. In that time I've bought and tried and sold many lenses. I sold my 135mm back in 1988, then bought another in 1989, then sold that one a few months later when I bought a 180mm. Two years ago I once again bought a 135mm and I'm keeping it. It's a great focal length for shooting in the city and makes a fine portrait lens.

The one lens I regretted getting rid of was my 28mm. I had moved to a fast 35mm lens and decided it was ideal for most of my work. But after several years I still couldn't shake the feeling that I was missing something. So about ten years ago I bought a second hand 28mm f/2.8 and bingo! That few degrees of angle of view made a huge difference. I was back in my true visual comfort zone.

In the 1980s when I was shooting primarily color landscape and nature subjects the two lenses I used almost exclusively were a 20mm and a 180mm. I always had the 35mm with me, but 95% of my images were being made with the 20mm and 180mm.

Back in the city the 35mm lens was getting the most use, until the 28mm arrived. A few days ago I bought my third used 28mm lens. It's an old Nikkor from the 1950s when lenses were still measured in centimeters. This one is a 2.8CM f/2.8 that has been AI'd so it will couple with the index metering cuff on newer Nikons. So now I have two manual focus 28s and one auto focus, and I use them all constantly. They keep me close and pull in the surroundings giving me that important little extra bit of context.

Last year I read an interview with Bill Eppridge in the April issue of Rangefinder Magazine. It's a good interview and right off he says, "I'm a 28mm shooter." I read that and I thought, "How cool! So am I.

Photo: ©2010 David W. Sumner (Nikon N90s, Nikkor 28mm f/2.8D AF)

People Can Die From "Exposure." Think About It.

2011-02-13T10:37:00.000-08:00

My friend, photographer, John Agoncillo and I recently participated in brief online discussion about publishers who want free use rights to images. John and I both find this ridiculous. But later on I was still shaking my head over one notion that was mentioned that seems to me to fly in the face of all common sense.

There is a concept that some think is key to getting a foot hold in the business of selling their images. That concept is that "exposure" will lead to sales and assignments. They seem to believe that having an image published in a magazine, book or on the internet is free and effective publicity.

Think about it. If you want to sell use rights to your images you want art buyers and photo editors to see your images. You want art buyers and photo editors with budgets to see your images. Publications that expect photographers to grant use rights for the "exposure" they will receive for having an image printed in their magazine typically don't have budgets. Publications without budgets typically don't have wide circulations and generally are not the types of publication art directors, art buyers and editors comb through for ideas and new talent. Art buyers and editors aren't looking for "cheap," and they don't look at "cheap." They may look for inexpensive or reduced fees based on quantity or the promise of future business, but they are not looking for "cheap" or free. They understand the need to pay.

If you give away use rights for "exposure" then you are establishing "exposure" as a currency. You are telling the publishing world that is your rate. You work for "exposure." That is what clients will expect and you will be attractive to only those types of clients and their publications are where your work will be seen. And the people looking at those publications are not the people who will help further your career.

Establishing yourself as a source of "free" images does not demonstrate that you are interested in managing a serious business. It does not demonstrate that you consider your work to be of any real value. It does not demonstrate that you have any regard for own experience or dedication to your craft. It also does not demonstrate that you have any respect for the publishing business and those who have devoted their careers to shaping it.

You can't establish yourself as a professional without acting like a professional. Being professional means you don't work for free. "Exposure" doesn't lead to paying jobs. It only leads to more requests to work for "exposure," and that means free. Working for free isn't competitive, it doesn't even get you in the ballpark.

"Exposure" is worthless unless you, the photographer, control it from start to finish. If you choose to donate images or work to a non-profit, or for an educational program, or to an international relief organization you are doing a wonderful thing. But only a well thought out marketing plan developed and controlled by you will turn that "exposure" into income. This is your opportunity to play the "exposure" game by putting together a quality mailer or portfolio with tear sheets and a few testimonials, and put it in front of those choice and potential clients you really want to work for.

If you insist on working for "exposure" make it part of a precise plan. Know who you will offer your work to. Work with professionals and present yourself professionally. Let them know you too have expectations and that while you may not be charging a fee you do expect something in return: references, recommendations, referrals, reprints for your portfolios, consideration to negotiate fees for future jobs.

Be smart, be professional. Demonstrate some integrity and self respect and you will be treated like a professional, with dignity and respect.

Photo: ©2011 David W. Sumner

"I'm not sure yet."

2011-02-06T21:05:00.001-08:00

I'm working on a project. I've been photographing the American flag whenever I see it being flown or displayed. I've been making these photographs for quite a while and now there are times I see a flag and pass by knowing I have an image so similar that this one wouldn't add anything unique to the series.

Today, a friend of mine asked, "So what's this flag series all about?" I thought for a second then I said, "I'm not sure yet." And I'm not.

This isn't a unique project. Many other photographers have made long term projects of the same subject. I'm probably not presenting any original concept or questioning a pattern of behavior that hasn't already been thoroughly studied. But the fact that so many people feel compelled to display the flag intrigues me.

There are several terms I associate with the flag: unity, solidarity, patriotism, nationalism, imperialism. But there is another word that always comes to mind, and I attribute its position in the forefront of my thought to the fact that I grew up in the 1960s. That word is assassination. My memory holds vivid images of the flag draped coffins of those years. At that time the symbolism represented in the use and display of the flag was emphatically clear.

I don't know where this project will take me or what its outcome will be. What the flag represents and how people choose to use it seems to be a much more complicated issue today.

Photo: ©2010 David W. Sumner

Burn Out: Not an Option

2011-01-31T18:38:00.001-08:00

Recently some friends and I have been talking about those times, and they are usually rare, when one seems burned out, or taking photos just gets stale. It can happen, as it can with anything. I think the key to avoiding it is to put the activity of shooting pictures into the broader perspective of what it is to be a photographer. It's important to take time to practice the many other skills essential to photography.

I have a little sign on my desk, it says: "Pictures Every Day." Often that means working on my negs: editing, scanning, printing, or simply sitting down with a photo book. Sometimes it's reading a page out of Weston's Day Books. Sometimes it's taking a walk and forcing myself not to take pictures so I can simply practice seeing. Or it's just thinking of some new place I'd like to photograph, and never touching a camera that day. It all works, it's all part of the process, part of being a photographer.

Photo: ©2011 David W. Sumner

A Practice of Habit

2011-01-23T13:25:00.000-08:00

I'm sure I've mentioned this before, but I feel it's worth repeating now and then. I carry a camera with me every time I walk out the door. Even if I'm only walking the three blocks to the corner market and back.

I'm not expecting anything spectacular to happen in that short period of time, but I'm always looking. I'm looking at the light, the shadows, the reflections, approaching things at a different angle to see how they look despite the fact I've walked by them a million times. Sometimes I notice a house freshly painted a totally different color than the week before. Sometimes a crowd has gathered to board the arriving streetcar and their arrangement creates a most interest tableaux. Most often I see little things: a momentary stillness in a patch of warm sunlight or a shadow intersecting the corner of a building forming an interesting angle.

This habit is part of my practice as a photographer. It is "a practice" not simply practice, though it is that too. It is my life as a photographer.

Photo: ©2011 David W. Sumner

Color Required

2011-01-17T08:18:00.001-08:00

On my recent trip to LA, I quickly realized that the Southern California winter light would make shooting color a necessity.

The clear skies and low angle of the sun made for several absolutely Mediterranean days. With temps in the 70s, no smog, and the sun low to the horizon the colors of LA were rich and vibrant. It was a sharp contrast to the overcast and softly diffused light I experienced on my previous visit.

It was a welcome and refreshing exercise to be shooting color in a situation that demanded it. I shot plenty of black and white, but as I process my digital files and edit my film I know I will find that color ruled the day on this trip.

Photo: ©2011 David W. Sumner

The Photograph as Fossil

2011-01-08T07:58:00.001-08:00

Recently I've mentioned how I believe my education in anthropology and training in archaeology has greatly influenced my work in photography. I'm still analyzing and working out this relationship, if in fact one exists.

A discussion at yesterday's Artists' Roundtable set me to thinking about geologic time and how so often I refer to it in terms of putting the human situation into perspective. It occurred to me that as much as I rely on geologic time to help keep sight of the overall "picture," I practice a craft that is measured in fractions of seconds. The phrase "frozen in time" is often used to describe both the physical evidence defining geologic time and the image made at the instant a camera's shutter is released. Naturally the notion of the photograph as fossil began running through my mind.

Considering that a fossil is the impression of an object and exists separate from the object itself, makes it very much akin to a photograph. We talk of the "geologic record," and of a "photographic record." It seems there is little or no difference between the two. And there is no doubt that over millennia they will become parts of one even more extraordinary record of time on Earth.

Photo: ©1990 David W. Sumner

Now You See Them...

2011-01-02T17:12:00.000-08:00

For most of my photographic career I've avoided photographing people or grudgingly included them in an image now and then. But recently more and more people have been creeping into my photographs.

I believe this is happening due to the influence of a number of street photographers and photojournalists with whom I've been hanging out over the past few years. By some form of creative osmosis that seems to take place while we walk along the streets of the City, I'm finding people becoming more and more interesting as critical elements in, if not the primary subjects of many of my photographs.

I find myself less often waiting for a person to move out of the frame and instead including them in at least one variation of the image. Sometimes they are no more than a barely distinguishable blur or a silhouette off to the side or a face in the shadows and sometimes that makes the image stronger.

My basic approach of photography as a form of archaeology hasn't changed. I'm still primarily interested in interpreting our social environment by examining and documenting those things people have created and placed in the natural environment. But as happens in field archaeology we do chance upon fragments of the individuals themselves: those who built and shaped the artifacts we now find so important to the telling and understanding of our social and cultural history.

Photo: ©2010 David W. Sumner

The Neighborhood

2010-12-28T18:29:00.000-08:00

Today, friend and fellow photographer, Jason Schlachet, reminded me how rich in imagery our own neighborhoods can be. I've always known this and often preached the notion to other photographers. But I do find myself occasionally lamenting the fact I no longer travel and thus believe my inspiration is impaired and my creativity stifled.

Then a day comes along when I pick up my camera on my way out the door to run errands and as I walk through the neighborhood I see some rather interesting and sometimes down right amazing things.

Again it's all about seeing, being aware of your environment and being open to considering new perspectives.

Photo: ©2010 David W. Sumner

Patterns of Behavior

2010-09-27T20:03:00.001-07:00

I avoid using the word capture with regard to photographing. That's a term that has become so overused with the rise of digital imaging. It's a reference to a computer 'capturing' data.

I don't like the terms 'making a photograph' or 'taking a picture.' Although I do often talk about going out to take pictures. That's just habit.

I look at my process as documenting an image that I see or one I create: something I see on the street or a still life. I look for patterns. Yes, I search out visual patterns, but also patterns of behavior and thought that are often expressed visually. I use the camera and my physical position to create a composition that I feel will best document that discovered pattern on a two dimensional, visual surface.

Patterns of behavior are reflected so vividly in our physical environment. You may have noticed that my photos often do not include human figures. I believe that often times more can be learned about our social environment by studying these physically manifested patterns of behavior when they are devoid of an actual human presence. I liken this to a sort of visual archaeology.

When I photograph I'm making a visual document of a pattern, or an element of a pattern, of human behavior.

So I'd say rather than capturing or taking anything, when I work, I'm 'photographing' or 'documenting' the patterns of human and social behavior as I observe them around me.

Text and photo: ©2010 David W. Sumner

I Know, I'm Beating a Dead Horse, But...

2010-09-12T14:21:00.000-07:00

I continue to encounter very young people who are discovering photography as they buy their first DSLR. This is a continuation of same type of experience I had the first time I used a 35mm SLR. There is a compounding factor to this, however, and that is a lack of willingness to work to learn a skill or craft. This certainly does not apply to every young person with a camera who I happen to meet. But I have seen this often.

I've been asked by many young aspiring photographers what it takes to get pictures published or get gallery representation. They want to know a few names or recommendations or some sort of secret. They have fun shooting pictures and their friends have told them their pictures are good. Maybe a friend even asked them to photograph their wedding. They begin to consider the idea they could make money at photography. They want to be a pro.

Professional and fine art photography are businesses that are not controlled by photographers. Yes, photography is fun, a rewarding creative process, an extraordinary means of communication and expression. Making money at photography is business. Business requires a unique skill set that has nothing to do with photography, art or having fun.

When I mention the fact that becoming a good photographer takes a high level of commitment, dedication, and a lot of time and hard work, many of the young people I talk to get a glazed over look in their eyes and start rephrasing their questions in what seems a sincere hope they will get a different answer.

I realized early on, much to my disappointment that, I don't have the temperament or burning ambition to run a business. But I put myself through quite a bit to come to that realization. I spent several years reading books about photography and photographers. I read all the trade and popular magazines on photography every month for years. Every bit of money that didn't go to food and rent went to photography. I shot as much film as I could afford to buy, usually one roll a week. I taught myself how to develop film and make prints. I quit my job and sold my house so I could move to a city where I would have access to labs and publishers and jobs in the photo industry. I couch surfed for eight months while I looked for a job and a place to live in the Bay Area. For three years I worked for photographers, running errands, matting and framing prints, retouching, making contact prints, assisting, managing stock image files as a photo researcher, negotiating fees for use rights. When I thought I had learned enough to set out on my own and become a freelancer, I again quit my job.

I had met a lot of people: editors, art directors, designers, writers, publishers, all people I thought I could call up make appointments with for "lunch." What I didn't realize was that I was no longer "Dave from so-and-so's studio" I was now yet another guy with little "professional" shooting experience trying to get his foot in the door to show some prints. It was time to pay the dues.

I spent a year on the phone. I got on some want lists for stock, I got a few appointments and some polite rejections. I was hung up on often and in one case a designer who I had worked with on a couple of book projects for another photographer yelled into the phone, "What do you want from me?" and then hung up. I was nobody and they let me know it.

Sue Smith at Outside Magazine was nice to me and often called to see if I had images for a piece or knew someone else who might. She knew I could probably refer her to a good photographer, but she always asked me for images first. Mike Shaw at Rodale Press really gave me a chance. Mike was, at the time, the photo editor of Bicycling Magazine. Mike told me to shoot an event and send him some transparencies. I went to a local bike shop and picked up a copy of City Sport magazine and looked through it. I read there was a biathlon coming up in Marin. I called the organizer and talked him into letting me photograph the bicycling stage of the event. I hung out the back window of my car shooting Velvia 50 with an F3 and a 180mm lens as my wife drove the route. I shipped 40 images to Mike. He sent them back with a note. The work was nice he'd keep me in mind.

Three months later Mike called with an assignment. An article had been written about an organization in Marin that took city kids on weekend mountain bike rides up Mt. Tam. The magazine needed pictures. I shot the story and had a great time doing it. The magazine used four of my images. It looked pretty damn good. A couple months later Mike called with another assignment. Again it took me north of the city out to Mt Burdell. This time the story was killed but I got paid for a half day shoot.

All that took about a year. My net income from that work: $600. I'm not the kind of person who is comfortable not knowing where next month's rent is coming from. I had to get a job.

That experience taught me a great deal. First, I realized that shooting for someone else is not that much fun. Second, running a photography business is hard and costly work that has nothing what so ever to do with making pictures.

So, after all that, here's what I tell people today when they ask me about becoming a photographer:

1. It doesn't matter what field you want to get into, you have to start at the bottom. You have to pay your dues, there is no way around it.

2. If you want to be a good photographer, read, read a lot, study the photographs of the photographers who have gone before you. Study them intently.

3. Understand that photography is not glamorous. Photographers make things look glamorous. That's often their job.

4. Realize that what ever you do there is very little if anything original you will ever bring to photography. Understanding this you should then strive to bring some originality to everything you do.

5. You will learn by doing. Do the work, put in the time. If you're not willing to do that, get out now. Find something else, find where your passion is. Because if you're not passionate about photography you will never become a "good" photographer.

6. Go out and shoot 100 rolls of film, then let's talk.

Finding a New Pictorialism

2010-08-21T13:02:00.000-07:00

I suppose I've always been attracted to the impressionistic qualities of Pictorialist photography. Although Pictorialism as a photographic movement was an effort to define photography as an art by emulating painting, I've never wanted to make a photograph that looked like a painting. However, I have always wanted to make photographs in that style of the early Pictorialists.

I tried a variety of methods over the years and was never satisfied. Many of the problems I encountered I chalked up to the superiority of today's film emulsions and the complete unavailability of many of the materials being used by photographers at he turn of the twentieth century. Much of my dissatisfaction had to to with my own impatience and my unwillingness to experiment with chemicals and wet processes which I had given up many years before.

At one point I thought Photoshop would provide the solutions I was looking for. But again I found nothing satisfactory. Recently, while experimenting with scanning medium format negatives using a flatbed scanner not equipped to properly scan film, I came upon a technique that allows me to produce exactly the look of Pictorialism I've been after.

Initially working with a color negative that is scanned using an Epson 1650, a sheet of Xerox paper and a small light box, I am able to take the resulting scan, manipulate it using a few basic Photoshop adjustments (Levels, Brightness & Contrast), convert it to black and white and invert it to a positive image. After a few slight adjustments of the positive image and a bit of toning I end up with an image I feel absolutely meets my vision of Pictorialism.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pictorialism

http://www.vrestrepo.com/two/page7.html

http://www.amazon.com/pictorialism-Ruzicka-Moderni-piktorialismus-Ruzicky/dp/0912964413

Photo: Stone Fruit and Tea Cup, ©2010 David W. Sumner

A Most Accurate Abstraction

2010-07-05T20:05:00.000-07:00

I spent most of today hanging out and talking with my good friend, photographer Tony Remington.

Tony and I talked a lot about the fundamentals of photography and the benefits of keeping things simple.

We talked for several hours about personal vision and the need to do the work. We tried to get to the essence of what photography really is. What is that one fundamental element that defines every image we make?

Tony summed it up this way: photography is the "most accurate abstraction of reality."

This is exactly what we do every time we release the shutter. We endeavor to create the "most accurate abstraction of reality" we possibly can. This is what defines our personal vision. This is how we became photographers.

Photo: ©2010 David W. Sumner

Color as Color

2010-05-02T15:51:00.000-07:00

I've been doing some color work lately, still trying to figure out my relationship to color. Focusing on color as subject seems to be what I'm most interested in and produces the type of color images that please me most.

I spent years shooting transparency film mainly because it was always the sharpest color film available and at the time it was the standard for color reproduction in the publishing world. Today I'm more concerned with making images that satisfy only me, and that has led me to experiment with various color films, both transparency and negative.

After shooting both Fuji and Kodak films from ISO 100 to 800, I settled on Fujichrome Astia 100F. But wanting to keep expenses down I recently started looking at color neg film again and I may have found the right film for my current approach to color imagery.

Kodak Portra 160VC is looking really good right now. It produces vivid color without losing its neutral base and it's incredibly sharp. I prefer it over Kodak's Ektar 100 and even Fuji's Astia100F. The 160VC has a good exposure latitude and a great tonal range giving it the ability to handle subtle hues and vibrant colors, and it scans really well.

I'm looking forward to working with it more and I'd be interested in hearing from other photographers who have experience using this film.

More to come.

Photos: ©2010 David W. Sumner
(Both images made with 35mm Kodak Portra 160VC)

On the Street and at Risk

2010-03-30T10:24:00.000-07:00

On March 13, 2010 I was on my way home from work, and as I reached the Van Ness/Market Street metro station I heard men screaming. I looked up to see two patrol cars blocking traffic on Market Street, and two policemen trying arrest two men in the street. One man was resisting being arrested as one of the policemen yelled at him to get on the ground. The man started screaming. The policeman began to force the man down and continued screaming at him to get on the ground. Once the man was on his knees the policeman drew his sidearm pointing it at the man’s back and shoved the man face down on the street.

This all happened in a matter of seconds. When I saw the gun in the policeman’s hand I decided to start taking pictures.

The policeman had holstered his sidearm before I shot my first frame. At this point a woman on the sidewalk ahead of me started screaming at the police to leave the man alone. The man being arrested started screaming at the woman to “go away before they arrest you too!” I watched as she walked down the street, passed me, and went around the corner. It was odd, but I noticed as she walked by me she was smiling. I went back to taking pictures.

It was obvious the excitement was over. As I shot the last frame of the arrest I felt a heavy, dull bang on my right leg. I looked around and saw the woman running around me to my left and up the sidewalk toward the police. She had just kicked me in the knee. When I yelled at her she turned and charged me. I pulled the camera up in front of me, not putting it to my eye, and managed to get off a frame before she started swinging on me. Her left hand came down on the end of my lens and she started to windmill with her right. I prevented her from hitting me and pushed her away.

She started screaming that I had no right to take pictures of something I knew nothing about and dashed for the metro station. I yelled back that I was on a public sidewalk and well within my rights and followed her down the stairs trying to get another picture. The more I yelled at her the faster she ran. She went through the station, crossing under Van Ness and out the other side.

By that time I was feeling quite tired. My leg hurt, I had a headache and I realized, someone that crazy could have been actually dangerous.

I’ve always felt that a photographer has the obligation to document his or her social environment, especially in times of turmoil or even during moments of tense interaction. But at this point in my life I’m too old to risk serious injury, and while I’ve never felt the threat before, I do now.

He Does It His Way

2010-03-06T09:19:00.000-08:00

Don Felton with his 30 year old Nikkor 105 mm Non-AI lens mounted on a Canon DSLR.
Photo: ©2010 Anna L. Conti

Don Felton, owner and primary photographer, of Almac Camera here in San Francisco, has been shooting art work for many of the major artists, galleries and museums in the Bay Area for about thirty years.

Don is a very intuitive photographer and has never gotten bogged down in technical matters or equipment issues in terms of getting his work done. For years he shot everything from 8x10 to 35mm; always transparencies that were perfectly exposed.

His set-up has always been extremely simple: tungsten lights bounced into huge foamcore reflectors that he moves around until the artwork is lit just right. The results have always been superb.

When Don made the switch to digital he knew what he wanted. Rather than adapt his style to the digital revolution he took just what he needed from the booming technological advances that overwhelm most of us, and he never missed a beat.

Don shoots with two high end Canon DSLRs on which he has mounted his 30 year old manual focus Nikkor lenses. He never uses the light meters, the cameras are always in manual exposure mode. He opens up the lens, focuses on the art work ( I asked him if he used the camera's electronic rangefinder to verify focal and he asked, "What's that?), then he stops down to f/11, activates the self timer and starts bracketing shots in 1/3 increments of shutter speed. He operates his DSLRs the same way he operates his 8x10 view camera. It's a treat to watch him work.

Observing

2010-01-31T10:45:00.000-08:00

Anna and I often pick window seats in cafes when we stop for coffee on our walks. We watch the people go by and observe the dynamics of the neighborhood. This particular window is plastered with menus and specials promoting what the cafe has to offer. Several people stopped to read the ads while we sat there watching the sidewalk. The menus and ads on the window prevented the people from seeing that we were photographing, which meant we could observe without effecting their behavior. As we watched, extraordinary compositions would form and reform within the frame of that window.

Photo: ©2010 David W. Sumner

To The Point

2010-01-23T12:31:00.001-08:00

"By removing the color, we become more involved with the object's form and much more aware of the light that's falling on the object."
- Craig Varjabedian

"I don't find that color adds anything to what I'm trying to say about our society. If anything, it's always a disturbing factor."
- Milton Rogovin

"In most color photographs the color is gratuitous, it doesn't have meaning."
 - Bruce Davidson

"Your photograph is telling a story. At a certain point you've told that story. More of the same thing becomes boring. If you go further you have to tell something additional that relates to your main story."
- Ray McSavaney recalls Ansel Adams' advice on cropping

"Viewers are usually unaware of whether they are looking at a silver print or a carbon pigment print and most do not care. It's the image they're interested in."
- Paul Roark

Photo: ©2009 David W. Sumner

My Favorite Photo Book of the Year

2009-12-31T09:11:00.000-08:00

In my opinion the best photo book of the year is the little Blurb published book, "Look" by San Francisco painter Virginia Arana Greene.

Virginia's color compositions and treatment of form are so luscious that turning the pages of this book is like bathing in a tropical waterfall of visual perfection.

The most stunning thing about this body of work is that Virginia's preferred camera is the RIM BlackBerry Curve 8300: a cell phone. It's a simple case of the right tool in masterful hands.

The essence of the neighborhood she lives in has never been more exactly rendered. It is my neighborhood as well and "Look" is home.

Preview "Look" here: http://www.blurb.com/books/987725

A Space of Their Own

2009-11-22T16:48:00.001-08:00

Artists build their living spaces around their work spaces. Creating a space conducive to making their art is first and foremost. If there is enough room to include a bed and access to a kitchen and shower all the better.

Photo: ©2009 David W. Sumner
(Teresa Newson's drawing table in her studio/bedroom, San Francisco.)

The Still Life Found

2009-09-20T19:50:00.001-07:00

I've always been fascinated by the still life. I've also found it extremely difficult to create a still life that doesn't look overly "set up." I do like the concept of the found still life. I suppose coming upon a collection of items that happen to appear as a nicely composed still life doesn't meet the strict definition of a still life, but I'm often drawn to such scenes because I see in them a stillness, a suspended moment that certainly relates to or reflects an aspect of someone's life. I understand that I'm applying an entirely different definition to the term "still life," but it better suits the way I see and make photographs.

Photo: ©2009 David W. Sumner

Dave's Rule

2009-07-19T14:14:00.000-07:00

The other day I was in a conversation with a few other photographers and there seemed to be a consensus that it's preferable to over expose negatives than underexpose. I certainly can see the logic in this if we're talking two or more stops of exposure. But as a general rule I can't say I like the idea.

It's possible that years of shooting slow speed transparency film instilled in me a deep dislike for blown out highlights. Of course there are times when blown highlights are unavoidable or even contribute to the making of a very expressive or dramatic image, but as a rule I think every effort should be make to avoid them.

I'd rather loose shadow detail than settle for blown highlights. Shadows are shadows. They are supposed to be dark. They are supposed to hide information. Dark to black shadows can be an advantage, but how often does a blown out highlight bring anything to an image?

So here's my rule:

Compose for the shadows
Expose for the highlights

Always determine what is the most important highlight in the scene and expose for that highlight. Compose your image using the shadows to the best advantage: fewer shadows to emphasize the highlights or more to add drama. Keep in mind that balance is always important, but some times balance is best when skewed to one side or the other.

Photos: ©2009 David W. Sumner

Safeway Warehouse Fire, 1988

2009-07-12T20:53:00.001-07:00

One evening in September of 1988, I was driving home when I spotted an eruption of fire in the distance ahead. At first I thought it must be rather close, possibly down town Berkeley. But soon I realized was not close at all and actually a very large fire.

Rather than head home I kept driving, curious to see how close I could get to the site of the fire. When I reached Richmond it was apparent that this was a major blaze and seemed to be consuming a sizable piece of real estate.

As I got closer the entire freeway was suddenly shrouded in thick black smoke and flaming debris rained down on the car and across all lanes. By the time I made it through the smoke I had actually passed the site of the fire. I quickly exited the freeway, crossed an overpass and got back on the freeway heading back toward the fire. I again passed through the dense smoke and managed to find an exit close to the site of the fire.

I pulled up along a narrow paved road that ran behind the huge warehouse that was burning. I grabbed my cameras and crossed a ditch making my way to what appeared to be the back gate of the warehouse complex. Emergency vehicles were just pulling up and I realized that I was the first photographer on the scene.

I started shooting pictures and the firefighters raised an aerial and began pouring water on the primary source of the blaze. The fire started spreading fast and soon things began to explode sending balls of flame high into the air. I ripped through a couple rolls of film before the first video news crew arrived. After they set up their gear each time I raised my camera they would turn off their lights.

I managed to work with the dramatic light from the intense flames and find positions that gave me relatively clear views of the firefighters and the major hot spots. After about an hour or so I packed up and made it home where I worked into the early hours of the next morning developing my film and making prints.

You can see a selection of the images I made that night here on Flickr.

Photo: ©1988 David W. Sumner

Now and Again

2009-06-21T07:09:00.000-07:00

Each time
The leaves hesitate but finally they fall.

- W.S. Merwin

(From the poem Now and Again, by W.S. Merwin.)

Photo: ©2007 David W. Sumner

Lost in Thought

2009-05-31T07:32:00.001-07:00

Without a net, I catch a falcon
and release it to the sky, hunting

You. This wine I drink today was
never held in a clay jar. I love

this world, even as I hear the great
wind of leaving it rising, for there

is a grainy taste I prefer to every
idea of heaven: human friendship.

- Rumi

Photo: ©2009 David W. Sumner

Annie Leibovitz At Work

2009-05-11T21:07:00.000-07:00

I never cared much for Annie Leiboviitz's commercial work. It always seemed to me to be nothing more than big budget, formulaic, churned out product.

Then I saw her retrospective show at the Legion of Honor here in San Francisco and I was truly impressed by her photojournalistic work: mostly B&W work from the early part of her career and the work she did in the 1990's in Sarajevo and Rwanda.

I had heard that her most recent book, Annie Leibovitz At Work, was quite good and finally decided to pick up a copy and read it. I have to say that the first half of the book is quite interesting, but from page 113 on I struggled to find anything compelling in either the text or the images.

Frankly I found her discussion of digital photography absolutely dreadful. Leibovitz is actually pleased to be telling the reader that her pictures of Queen Elizabeth are digital fabrications. For her session with the Queen she had 25 minutes. All the photos of the Queen were shot in a single room in front of a gray seamless. Four costume changes in 25 minutes, that was it. The background scenes of beautiful rooms in the palace and the stormy sky above the gardens, those were all separate digital photographs that were Photoshopped together with the portraits of the Queen.

For me the book was a disappointment. In my opinion, Annie Leibovitz is at her best with a Nikon F, a 35mm lens and a roll or Tri-X.

A One Picture Story

2009-04-05T18:14:00.001-07:00

The one-picture-photo essay is a worthy achievement for any photographer. It is never easy to do and is seldom seen. The image that comes to mind as the best example of this is Gordon Parks' image American Gothic. There are no words capable of matching the powerful expression conveyed in that image.

In the photo above I use the flag an a way similar to Parks' use of the flag in American Gothic. The flag establishes location and a sense of the social and political values that may or may not square with the other elements in the image. But it begins to tell a story. It doesn't tell a complete story, however it does provoke many questions, and on that level it is a successful image.

American Gothic uses the flag to point out truth and not as a symbol of truth. It is the power of Gordon Parks' image that moves me to search for the truth in any image that incorporates the flag.

Photo: American Gothic, 1942, by Gordon Parks, courtesy Masters of Photography.

It's Not A Job, It's An Adventure

2009-03-29T15:17:00.001-07:00

Many years ago I realized the way to make photography completely dull and boring was by making it a job. I don't like taking pictures for other people. The business of photography has little to do with making images. I feel the same about blogging. If I had to do it I wouldn't like it very much. If it was a job, I'd hate it. And I don't want to hate it. I want to do more of it. So as with my photography, so with my blog. I shoot what interests me and what I think is important to document, I will treat this blog in the same manner.

I use Facebook to point out shifts in the photo industry, copyright issues and the like. I also use it to communicate with a few good friends.

Most of my current work can be seen on my Flickr page.I sometimes post five image photo essays there, and my complete Alcatraz project can be seen there.

I also use Twitter, which is linked to my Facebook page, to spread information about photography issues.

So I think I'm going to save this blog to just talk about making pictures and photography that I think is good and or important. That will interest me and hopefully keep me going in the blogosphere.

The photo above is from some recent work I've been doing while sitting in public places.

Photo: Union Square, San Francisco. ©2009 David W. Sumner

When it All Comes Together.

2009-02-05T20:11:00.001-08:00

It pays to always carry a camera. It doesn't always pay, but there are times when everything comes together.

I was walking home with a bag of groceries when I came to this corner and stopped to shoot a few frames of this caution tape wrapped around a power pole and stop sign. The yellow and red against a blue sky was quite nice. I made about three images and picked up my grocery bag and was about to cross the street when I saw this taxi coming into the intersection. Damn! I just pushed the camera in front of me and banged off one shot. This is it.

Photo: ©2008 David W. Sumner

Digging Up the Present

2009-01-24T19:39:00.001-08:00

When I graduated from the University of California Riverside I had completed 76 units in Anthropology and 32 units in Sociology. I needed only 36 units for my BS, but I was a bit of a social science zealot. It's probably obvious the extent to which that education has influenced me.

I'm beginning to look at my work as a sort of visual archaeology. Rather than digging up the past, I'm visually recording the arti-factual evidence of a contemporary society. In some cases I manage to photograph things as they are about to disappear forever or become rarer that they already seem to be.

Photo: ©2009 David W. Sumner (Dry point on copper plate and printing press, Dale Erickson's studio, San Francisco, California. 2009)

Urban Hawk

2009-01-07T20:38:00.000-08:00

As I was on my way to the office this morning, about 7:15, before the sun had actually topped the East Bay hills, I spotted this young red tail hawk eating a pigeon on the sidewalk in front of Davies Symphony Hall.

I had already been shooting a bit as I walked along and quickly grabbed a couple of shots of the hawk, expecting it to take off as soon as it noticed me looking at it. But actually it could have cared less what I was doing. I had a single lens with me, a 24mm f/2.8, not exactly the right lens for shooting wild life, urban or otherwise. The light was dim, the lens too wide and the shutter speed too slow, but I decided to work it anyway.

Trying not to look directly at the bird, I inched closer and closer with little shuffling side steps, shooting a frame each time the bird looked away or went back to tearing at the dead pigeon. I shot two thirds of a long roll of Portra 400NC in this fashion while several people walked past never giving me or the hawk a glance. At least six people walked by never noticing that any of this was going on.

Finally as I got to within about 7 feet of the hawk I started attracting attention. I snapped another frame or two and moved on, encouraging others to do the same, which the did. And the hawk? Well he was just too young to know any better and went right on with his breakfast.

Photo: ©2009 David W. Sumner

Blow-Up!

2009-01-05T19:13:00.001-08:00

There's a group of San Francisco photographers roaming the streets, gathering in Golden Gate Park, meeting in local bars, it's called Blow-Up!. The groups is famous for its Beer & Gear Sessions which involve the sharing of good food and drink and checking out all the interesting camera gear everyone brings along. In the photo above Blow-Up! members receive a clinic on using a 4x5 Crown Graphic in the San Francisco Botanical Gardens. So when you're out and about keep your eyes open; you may just end up the subject of a Blow-Up! photo.

Photo: ©2008 David W. Sumner

Letting The Image Speak

2008-12-27T20:19:00.000-08:00

I'm finding it hard to write about photographs or photography in general right now. I've tried to come up with short bits once a week, but I'm finding that to be no easier. I suppose that's why I photograph in the first place, because I just don't have that much to say, at least that much worth writing down that would be of interest to anyone but myself.

I'll keep trying, but I may lean a little more toward the news than the notes for a while.

Recently a few people have commented that my photographs look old, and not just because of the warm tone. They have said they look old as if they are of another time. Most of my subject matter is still, unmoving and of common things, often timeless things, like a tree. Maybe I choose subjects that might seem "old fashioned" to current sensibilities. I do seek out stillness and the familiar in that stillness. Maybe that in itself is old fashioned.

Photo: ©2008 David W. Sumner

Meeting the Planet Walker

2008-12-01T09:33:00.001-08:00

Anna and I spent last Friday in Point Reyes with our good friends Pam Heyda and John Wall. We all had the great, good fortune to meet John Francis. In the photo above Anna looks on as John Francis inscribes a copy of his book Planetwalker.

Environmentalist and author, John Francis.

In 1971 John Francis witnessed the collision of two oil tankers under the Golden Gate Bridge and the subsequent spill of 500,000 gallons of oil into the San Francisco Bay.

He was so moved by the incident that he vowed to stop riding in motorized vehicles of any kind. He began walking on a journey that would take him across the world and around the world.

As he traveled, John engaged people he met in lively debate on environmental issues until one day he realized he was talking and arguing more than he was listening. He tried not talking for a day to see how much more he could learn by only listening. One day grew into two, then a week, then a year went by and he was still not talking. John didn't end his silence for 17 years. In that time he walked around the world, earned three degrees, including a PhD, and worked for the Coast Guard writing key environmental legislation concerning oil spills.

John has served as a UN ambassador and recently lectured at TED. His book, "Planetwalker," chronicles his seventeen year journey of silence for the sake of environmental consciousness.

John Francis lives in Point Reyes, California with his wife and son.

Photo: ©2008 David W. Sumner

What Makes a Good Photograph? Part 2

2008-11-13T08:43:00.000-08:00

There is certainly something to be said for minimalism. Focusing on a very few or even single element can help create a very dynamic even dramatic image. Visual simplicity can often speak volumes. The single source of light is the subject of this image, yet it is illuminating the secondary elements around it, thus better defining its context.

What Makes a Good Photograph?

2008-11-07T11:38:00.001-08:00

Sometimes a photograph isn’t about its subject. A photograph can be about a message or an idea. Other times a photograph can be simply a visually pleasing arrangement of lines and shapes. This photograph is about color.

The Beginning of a New Season

2008-10-20T09:50:00.000-07:00

Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival, 2008. Photo: David W. Sumner

It was a busy Summer. Now as Fall closes in I’m looking forward to starting some projects I’ve been putting off for various reasons. I hope to start writing more, which means more frequent posts here. I’m constantly updating my Flickr page which is one reason why I seldom venture into the bloggosphire, but I want that to change, so I’m looking forward to posting more frequently with briefer commentary and more images.

For now you can see my most recent work on my Flickr page. I’m working on the images I shot a couple weeks ago at the free Bluegrass Festival in Golden Gate Park.

Losing a Friend

2008-09-28T20:43:00.000-07:00

A wonderful photographer and my dear friend for many years, Jane Grossenbacher, passed away Tuesday, September 16th. She had been fighting ovarian cancer for three years.

Jane inspired and motivated me to keep working during my own illness. We often passed each other coming from and going to our chemo treatments. She always greeted me with her beautiful, warm smile and an encouraging, hopeful hug.

Jane was a great artist and had a wonderful life.

A beautiful exhibit of her photography, mostly photogravures, opened September 12th at The Gallery on Potrero Avenue. If you have a chance, please stop by The Gallery and witness Jane's amazing work.

More info on the exhibit here:
http://baartquake.blogspot.com/2008/09/jane-grossenbacher-retrospective.html

The Gallery at 323 Potrero Avenue
(between 16th and 17th Streets, in San Francisco)
Open weekends 1pm - 5pm
Sept 12 - Oct 19, 2008

The Wild West at the Beach

2008-09-20T09:45:00.001-07:00

In 1902 Buffalo Bill brought his famous Wild West show to San Francisco. There exists a fairly well known photograph of Buffalo Bill and 100 Indians, mounted on horseback, stretched out along Ocean Beach below the Cliff House. Earlier this month Seattle artist, Thom Ross installed his recreation of that spectacular image. Ross lined up over 100, bigger than life-size, brightly painted plywood cutouts of Indian worriers and Buffalo Bill himself, in the sand right on Ocean Beach. It certainly was a sight to behold and fun to photograph.

You can see more photos here.

Photo: ©2008 David W. Sumner

An Artful Act

2008-07-06T11:09:00.000-07:00

Yesterday's entry was inspired by a passage from Issa's book, Oraga Haru:

"Without lifting the foot, he arrives.
Without moving the tongue, he preaches.
Be you ever in the lead, you still must know
That there is always One who comes before
you."

- Issa, quoting Mumonkan

I appreciate the simplicity in this notion, as I interpret it:

We are shown the way by those who have gone before us. We learn from them, we follow them along the path until we come to a fork in that path which is simply too compelling to ignore, and we begin our own journey down a new path, our path.

We may not be covering new ground, but we are traveling with a knowledge and a passion that will help us experience this 'new' path in a unique way. We observe and interpret our experiences and express them through our work. What ever that work may be, it is driven and shaped by our creative minds.

This is what we do.

Text and photo ©2008 David W. Sumner

A Thoughtful Act

2008-07-05T11:57:00.001-07:00

Art and thought, there is nothing more. All art is the expression of thought. Thought inspires and motivates one. Thought sustains one. Without thought, there is nothing. Achieving nothingness is a goal of Zen meditation. But in itself, the process of achieving nothingness is a thoughtful act, an artful act.

Life is to be spent in thought and expressed through art.

This, is the way.

Text and photo: ©2008 David W. Sumner

My 2 Cents on Fill Flash

2008-05-23T17:15:00.000-07:00

I’ve always tried to avoid using flash, but often I wish I had just a little boost to diminish shadows. I usually use reflectors, but that means carrying additional bulky gear. So, I’ve been experimenting with fill flash lately.

There are all sorts of formulas for adding just the right amount of fill light to an image. What I have found is that the best way to achieve well balanced fill flash is to start with a flash unit that will allow you to reduce the flash output by fractions of an f/stop. Reducing the flash’s power by 1/2, 1/4, and so on is not the same.

Image of Nikon SB-24 courtesy of www.mir.com.my

I started with a Nikon SB-24 and my F4. I set the flash exposure compensation on SB-24 to -1.7 (that’s almost, but not quite, 2 stops under). The F4 is set to aperture priority auto and away I go. It works really well, every time. I like the SB-24 very much and it’s the flash unit I go to if I need to be sure my fill flash exposures are perfect.

The only problem I have is the size and awkward balance of this set up. The SB-24 is big, and when it’s on top of an F4 the combination is top heavy and not too easy to carry around. The F100 is lighter and works perfectly with the SB-24, but hangs upside down if on a strap around my neck or on my shoulder.

I did some reading and heard some good things about the SB-23. I was able to find one at KEH for less than $40, so I ordered it. It’s very simple, small, light, and very, very energy efficient. It has only one switch and two settings: ON and OFF. I have found that it works best on my F100.

With the F100 I set the flash mode in camera (something you can’t do with the F4). I choose matrix balance flash and rear sync, and set the exposure mode to aperture priority. Based on my aperture selection the camera sets the shutter speed, calculating the correct ambient exposure. The camera also measures the flash out put and shuts off the flash when the “correct” balance of ambient and flash are achieved.

This combination works well, but is not as precise as being able to dial down the flash out put by 1/3 stop increments on the unit itself. However the SB-23 is so small and easy to carry, even mounted on the camera, it’s often worth the compromise. Just remember that with the SB-23 you need to par attention to the distance between you and your subject. In other words, don’t get too close. Otherwise the closer you get more you have to stop down your lens and eventually start using a tripod. (Most SB-23s you find will have a sticker pasted on top with a distance guide for various combinations of ISO and f/stop.)

Most people I’ve talked to or read tend to dismiss the “pop-up” flash units on newer cameras as pretty much useless, except for full on flash shots of the family at a picnic. But I don’t agree. I recently photographed the current exhibition of costumes at the Museum of Performance & Design using the Museum’s Nikon D80. I chose the D80 over using film because it allowed me to crank up the ISO setting as I moved around the gallery, in and out of various lighting arrangements, and it has a small on board “pop-up” flash that I can dial down to a -3 stop out put if necessary.

When shooting the costumes I set the camera’s ISO to 1250. The ambient exposure was f/3.5 (wide open) at around 1/20. In general the exposures were good but I could tell I needed a little boost. I popped up the on board flash and dialed in a compensation ratio of -1.7. That’s just what the scene needed. The flash was subtle but made an obvious difference in exposure that maintained the warmth of the ambient lighting while gently opening up the shadows. The gallery I was shooting is a big room. I was using a Nikkor 18-135mm DX at 18mm. The coverage of the flash was perfect. I’ve used the same set up in the same room during an evening event when the ambient exposure had dropped two stops. In that case I found that a flash compensation ratio of -1 worked best for capturing images of guest viewing the exhibition, (as long as they were not moving).

Gallery shot #1: Nikon D80 at ISO 1250 ambient exposure only. Photo: David W. Sumner/MPD

Gallery shot #1: Nikon D80 at ISO 1250 ambient exposure plus -1.7 Fill Flash. Photo: David W. Sumner/MPD

I have a Canon Eos Elan 7NE that has a “pop-up” flash and I use it the same way. It can be dialed up or down in _ stop increments. Not as precise as the Nikons, but I’ve found that dialing down to -2 gives me a good amount of fill without being obvious.

So for me a good rule of thumb for fill flash is to start with a composition ratio of -1.7 and if I’m at all uncertain try a few frames at -1.5 and -1. Of course, if I was shooting a fast paced event outdoors I’d leave it at -1.7 and shoot away.

If you’re experimenting with fill flash or have found a formula that works well for you I’d like to hear from you.

Here’s a link to an article by the late Galen Rowell on his strategy for using fill flash.

I Have A Dream

2008-05-18T19:11:00.000-07:00

I have a dream...

This is what it would take to get me into digital photography:

An FM2 body with an FX sensor. Same center-weighted meter, same shutter speed and ISO dial. An electronic shutter release like the F3 that also recycles the shutter as in the current DSLRs. The F mount that will accept all AI, AIS and Non-AI lenses.

A manual DSLR with no elaborate controls and settings. Aperture, shutter speed, focus, all manual. The sensor is permanently set on auto white balance. There is no viewing screen on the back of the camera. Image composition and exposure settings are viewed through the FM2 type view finder.

This would be exciting and I believe entice many long time Nikon film shooters, like myself, to invest in digital photography. I want to use all my wonderful Nikkor lenses with a simple manual operating digital body that is as rugged and reliable as the Nikons I've been shooting for the past 30 years.

I know this is possible and I know that a product like this could retail for about $600.00, USD.

A camera like this would be a great gift to the millions of loyal Nikon shooters around the world. If Leica can make a digital M, Nikon can make a digital FM2, and do a better job of it.

I may be dreaming, but I know this can be done.

What, are you nuts!

2008-05-10T14:38:00.000-07:00

So the other evening my sister calls me. Susan lives in Bellevue, Washington.

“I need your opinion,” she says. “The guy down the street is selling an old Nikon F2 and a bunch of stuff with it. I know that’s an old one, do you think it would be worth it?”

So I ask the usual questions about brassing, advance lever, shutter release, all shutter speeds working, no cracks on the mount, on and on. Susan says all that seemed fine. The lenses were third party and she wasn’t sure about them. There’s a “big” zoom lens, a really big “500mm f/8 something or other,” a big flash with a “long handle and this thing that sticks out and looks like it screws into the camera somewhere.” There are these little boxes that say “Nikon Type K” on them, an old Nikon neck strap in the original box, a Nikkor 24mm f/2.8 “all metal, but the focusing ring sounds a bit gritty.”

“Oh yeah and there’s another one of those prism things that go on the top of the camera,” she says.

Wow, that’s a lot of stuff…

So I ask, “What are you going to do with all that stuff?”

“I don’t want it, I thought you’d want it,” she says.

“Well, how much does the guy want for it?”

“$150,” she says.

“WHAT! ARE YOU NUTS?!!! Put the phone down, go back there and buy it now! I’ll wait on the line. GO…GO…GO!!!”

“He said he’ll hold it for me. Are you sure you want it?”

“Umm, let me think… YES! FOR THE SAKE OF EVERYTHING GOOD ON THIS PLANET, GO…GET…IT!!!”

I mailed a check the next morning, and now, waiting for me in Bellevue, Washington at my sister’s place is a Nikon F2A, Nikkor 24mm f/2.8, Lexar 500mm f/8 Mirror lens, Sunpak 511 flash with bracket, and various other Nikon parts and some sort of “big” zoom lens.

I’m heading up there in June for my nephew’s graduation. I figure this is my sister’s way of making sure I show up.

Photo: Steve Weil

Introducing The Where We Live Project

2008-04-12T14:55:00.000-07:00

A while back I initiated a project taking a close look at the neighborhoods in which we live. I invited photographers to submit black and white images in the form of a short photo essay that documented the essence of the neighborhoods they live in.

The project lay dormant for about a year. But I've brought it back with renewed energy. You can view the project here and leave comments. If you're interested in contributing an essay to the project send me an e-mail at dave@bigcrow.com.

Photo: ©2008 David W. Sumner

Annie Leibovitz at the Legion of Honor

2008-03-13T07:47:00.000-07:00

Last weekend I went to the Legion of Honor to see the exhibition of Annie Leiboveitz's work. The show was organized by the Brooklyn Museum and came to San Francisco a couple of weeks ago. I wrote a review of the exhibition for baartquake.com. You can read it here. If you get the chance to see this exhibition I think you'll be surprised.

Getting The Most Out of Your Print Sales

2008-02-09T10:24:00.000-08:00

A friend recently asked me for some tips on selling prints and limiting editions. I’m certainly no expert nor am I getting rich selling prints of my work. But I’ve been in and around the business for twenty years and I’ve seen various ‘business models’ in action. My friend found this information helpful, so I figured I’d share it here.

Some photographers limit their limited editions to a certain few sizes. They may limit editions to 100 - 500 prints, sizes 16x20 and 20x24 and leave 11x14 prints of the same image as an open edition. Materials can also come into play. Fiber base paper is usually used for limited editions (for B&W prints) and resin coated papers are often used for open editions. With pigment prints, materials can also play a factor: archival rag paper vs. clay coated paper.

The thing to keep in mind is how long you want an image to make money for you. Once you have printed the total number of prints in a limited edition you can't print it again in that particular size.

Limiting editions early in your sales career means images may have a shorter sales life. On the other hand, if you have an open edition of 11x14 prints of an image that becomes very popular over the course of several years, you can decide to create a 16x20 limited edition that will command a higher price per print than if the limited edition had been started earlier. It can also serve to increase the value of the open edition prints. Thus you have a longer sales life per image.

Usually, photographers limiting editions will set a price for the first 25 out of 100 prints, then raise the price per print on the next 25 prints. For example, prints 1/100 - 25/100 = X$ ea., 26/100 - 50/100 = X+X$ ea. or X+%of X, and so on. The higher the edition number the rarer the print and the higher the price. Photographers often hold back the first five prints of an addition to be sold once the rest of the edition has sold out. The five prints, #1 - #5, represent the earliest prints in the edition and can now command a higher price than the price paid for last prints of the edition.

Limiting editions is a good sales strategy, but it really only pays off once you've established a good sales record and created a demand for certain images or certain types of images. If you carefully consider print sizes and materials you can ensure a fairly long sales life for an image in a series of limited editions. Smaller sizes are usually open editions or limited to a high number of prints (1000 or more.) Larger sizes are limited to editions of fewer prints (100 to 500.)

Of course the targeted market is a big factor in making these decisions and this is where a gallery comes in. A gallery should have the information to best decide how to price work in the current market. Make sure not to short sell yourself, at the same time realize that as your work is new to the market it may not yet be able command the higher prices.

Photo: ©2008 David W. Sumner

The Process, The Practice

2008-01-26T21:21:00.000-08:00

Sometimes we get so wrapped up in the fast pace of technological advancements that we forget there are many things, older technologies, that have been with us for a long time that are still valued. Of course, you and I value many of the technologies we grew up with that today seem to so many well out dated. But I'm finding that more and more younger people are placing considerable value on many older technologies. And I'm seeing this especially in the arts.

I have a few friends who teach at the various art schools here in the City. The age of the students range from 8 to 22 years old. I hear stories of how many of the students demonstrate a great enthusiasm for the learning and practice of a "process." Sometimes it's painting and drawing or working with clay or glass or metal. And sometimes it's wet photography.

Recently, a group of university students here in San Francisco fought to preserve the introductory course in black and white photography that was about to be scrapped by the administration in favor of a completely digital program. The students wanted more time in the darkroom. They expressed the desire to more deeply explore a specific creative process.

That's what photography is: a unique creative process. Traditional wet photography and digital photography are two completely different animals. The end result or "product" of these two processes may be very similar or almost identical, but the processes themselves are extremely different.

These two processes rely on two vastly different technologies. Both are valid means with which to create images. Both processes require the mastery of certain fundamentals and a dedicated creative effort to be successful. But they are different. They are valued processes and there are many people eager to master the craft and practice the art of both. And that's what it's about, the practice. It doesn't matter if it's old or new technology. It's about the practice of a process. It's through the practice that one learns and grows. That's something people will always crave: the need to learn and grow. There will always be the need to practice. That's art.

Photo: ©2008 Anna L. Conti

Gear is Good

2008-01-04T19:27:00.000-08:00

I recently picked up this SB-23 Speedlight from KEH for $37. It's compact, light and extremely simple. It has one switch with two positions: Manual or TTL. It's either on or off. When left on it automatically goes into Standby mode and conserves power. It uses four AA batteries and is extremely energy efficient. It works great as a source of balanced fill flash with film cameras that control flash modes like the F100, F6, and older models such as the N6006 and even on my odd-ball F601m.

I've been testing it around the house and this evening I took it with me to the beach to check out the surf and sky during a break in this monster storm that's been pounding us since early this morning. After I get my next batch of film processed I'll post some images I shot this evening.

In the meantime feel free to share my mantra:
"Gear is Good."

Just Me and My Cameras

2007-12-28T13:26:00.000-08:00

With all the ups and downs of this year, the distractions and sidetracks, I've managed to rally around my work in photography. So much of the time I find myself just wanting to be a hermit, not seeing or talking to anyone, forgetting everything that's happened this year and get into a space where I can remember what I was like and how I felt before I got sick. A camera and a pocket full of film helps me get there. When I'm out taking pictures I'm in a perfect world. Nothing else matters and I'm happy. Just thinking about it now makes me feel good.

Being able to post my images on the web and to see how much wonderful work is being done by people all over the world is inspiring. I've connected with some new faces and old friends through Flickr, where I do most my photo posting now. I've met and become familiar with the work of photographers in Japan, Israel, Australia, Canada, The Republic of Moldova, England, France and right here in San Francisco. It's a great way to share work and explore our common creative pursuits.

Flickr also provides a means of publishing work that until recently was not available. I've been experimenting with creating short photo essays and posting them to Flickr. I put together a three part essay on our November trip to Los Angeles. Each part consists of five images with captions that create a running narrative chronicling our adventures there. I created another five image essay documenting a fire that broke out in a local cafe and the quick response of the SFFD.

I've had a tremendous amount of support from friends, near and far, and I greatly appreciate every bit of it. The support that we've received from my sister Susan and her family is truly above and beyond. Anna's brothers have helped in ways they can't imagine. But, I couldn't have managed this year at all without Anna. I owe her everything.

Right now I have a month long break from clinics, doctors and needles. Things are looking pretty good; the numbers could be better, but they don't tell the whole story. I'm a very, very lucky man. And I'm looking forward to a fresh year full of pictures.

Cafe Fire

2007-11-23T11:04:00.000-08:00

Wednesday evening a fire broke out a few doors down from where Anna and I were having dinner. We realized what was happening when we saw three engine companies and two truck companies of the San Francisco Fire Department pull up in front. We grabbed our cameras and and ran out onto sidewalk and began shooting the scene.

The Rain Tree Cafe on the corner of Irving and Eighth Avenue seemed be burning. I moved in close to the fire fighters as I had only a 35mm lens with me and Anna was able to stay back a bit with her wide to telephoto zoom. I managed to stay close but out of the way while shooting as the fire fighters broke through the front door of the cafe and put ladders up to the roof. Smoke began billowing out the front door as fire fighters moved into the cafe and attacked the source of the fire. We crossed the street a couple of times seeking different angles and views of the activity.

In no time I had run through the two rolls of film I had with me. While anna continued shooting I went half way up the block to Express Photo. Alan Dejecacion was still running the C41 processor despite the fact it was the day before Thanksgiving. The lab was closing in 30 minutes, but Alan took my film and said he'd have it ready in fifteen minutes. He quickly sold me another roll of film and I was back out shooting the mop up of what turned out to be a small grease fire. The cafe had closed early, but someone had left the grill on and in the course of a couple of hours a pot of grease sitting on the grill had begun to burn.

Thanks to Alan I was able to post a short photo essay on the fire to my Flickr page within a few hours of shooing the pictures. While we've seen the demise of most the photo labs in the City it's a relief to have Express Photo right in the neighborhood.

(Not only does Alan help keep Express Photo running, he's also a great photographer. You can see many of his documentary projects and photojournalism on his Flickr page.)

Photo: ©2007 David W. Sumner

Bay Area Art Quake Launch

2007-11-06T18:44:00.000-08:00

This week Anna started a new art blog and invited me to be one of its regular contributors. Check it out. It's called Bay Area Art Quake, I posted my first entry this morning.
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Image above: Notes for review of David Seymour
exhibition at the de Young Museum.
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Recently I've taken some time away from posting here simply due to the stresses of the day job and the chemo treatments. All of that is settling out now. Anna and I are actually heading to LA for three days to scout out a few galleries.

I have been posting quite a few images to my Flickr page. There you can see some recent work and some older favorites. Next week I will be posting images from the LA trip.

Stay Tuned.

Pick a Lens, Any Lens...

2007-10-20T15:49:00.000-07:00

Lens selection is often an interesting topic. I've heard all kinds of suggestions on what's the best lens to use for a particular situation. The on line forums are choked with questions like "What's the best lens to use for portraits?" I find these questions a bit silly. Any "how-to" book or quick web search will tell you the most popular portrait lenses are in the range of 80mm to135mm.

(Kathy Cruver, Nikon F3, 180mm lens ©2002 David W. Sumner)

Really it's not an issue of the best or right lens. What's important is what will work within the context of your shooting style, what are you comfortable with? James Nachtwey has been quoted as saying he never uses anything longer than 50mm. HCB used a 50mm almost exclusively. Josef Koudelka for many years shot almost all his images with wide angle lenses. Then he quit using wide lenses all together. Then later he started using a panoramic camera for much of his work. So what's right?

When I was shooting color landscapes in the 1980's I rarely shot with anything other than my 20mm and 180mm lenses. Today I hardly ever take my 180mm out of the closet. Currently in my bag is a 20mm, 28mm, 55mm, 135mm, and two camera bodies. Now days 95% of my images are made with the 28mm lens. I'm not fond of zoom lenses, I'd rather step closer or move to one side looking for a good perspective. But that's what works for me and I've experimented for many years to get to this point.

In reality a nice portrait can be made with a 20mm lens or a 300mm lens. You just have to pay attention to what you're doing. When you're looking through the view finder, look critically. Move a little and keep looking. When it looks good, make the picture. Don't worry about right or wrong. The more you practice the more you become familiar with what makes a good portrait and will realize that a good portrait can be made with any focal length.

Remember Burma

2007-10-04T12:40:00.000-07:00

Detained pro-democracy leader, Aung San Suu Kyi, appeared at her front gate yesterday as several hundred courageous monks marched through barricades blocking access to her home in Rangoon.

LINKS:

Chevron and Burma

Photos from a "brave Burmese living in Rangoon," who cannot be identified right now.

What's the Story with Burma?

BBC Profile of Burma

New York Times on Burma

Huffington Post on Burma

Independent Media looks at Burma

US Campaign for Burma

Human Rights Watch on Burma

Democracy Now on Burma

Amnesty International on Burma

Should We Even Care?

2007-09-06T18:51:00.001-07:00

There is a lot of stencil art on the streets here in San Francisco. Much of it is original work, but some has obviously been appropriated.

The stencil image (above) of Billie Holiday is on Van Ness Avenue. The original image is a photo by the late William Gottlieb.

So what do we make of this? Is it an homage to Gottlieb? Is it fair use? Is it a copyright infringement? Given the context does it matter one way or another?

What if Gottlieb, were he alive, came along and signed his name to image on the sidewalk? Would that upset the person who made the stencil and painted the image on the concrete?

Should we even care?

Shoot First, Crop Later?

2007-09-05T19:07:00.000-07:00

Usually I don't spend much time pondering such age old debates as to crop or not to crop. But there has been a lot of chatter lately about the purity of the in-camera crop and corruption of shooting first and cropping later.

I try try to do as much in-camera cropping as possible to make use of the full frame for every composition. But some times I'm faced with little time to get the shot: no time to get closer or switch lenses. My choice is always to get the shot regardless.

Recently I was roaming around the Ferry Building and I saw a girl feed some pigeons. The birds were actually sitting in her lap as she fed them. I stepped up and just as I was about to press the shutter release a little boy ran into the frame chasing the pigeons away. The boy's father reeled him and I backed off to let the pigeons come back. The girl was a little self conscious, but she went with it.

Most of the pigeons came back to be fed, but none hopped up onto the girls lap. I started closing in and heard the little boy running up behind me. I grabbed the shot from where I was, just before the pigeons took off once again. This all took place in less than a minute. I managed one frame. Not the image I had originally wanted, but a general depiction of the scene.

Here's the image I came away with. So where is the picture? Is it in there some where?

And here's my decision. There was no choice but to crop.

Now I'm not sure this image is even worth keeping, but it's a good example of need for and usefulness of cropping. Granted, I believe in the full frame and doing one's best to avoid cropping any image. But I also believe there are times when one must decide to shoot now and crop later or lose the shot.

Recent Work: Poetry Garden

2007-08-24T16:23:00.000-07:00

The Poetry Garden
at 190 Fremont Street,
San Francisco.
Howard Street Entrance.

The fountain.

Sculpture and 190 Fremont.

Photos: ©2007 David W. Sumner

What We See

2007-08-12T08:32:00.001-07:00

More and more I've come to realize that my intense study of anthropology and sociology in college, and the few years I worked as an archaeologist, have significantly influenced not only the way I look at the world, but what in the world I see.

It's interesting to contemplate what in our lives has shaped the way we look at our surroundings and exactly what we see.

Is this the last trace of a cave painting or simply the many layers of paint on the floor of the atrium in my house?
Twenty first century pictographs outside a pre-school in San Francisco. What of the pictographs across the South West? Are they the blackboard lessons of youth?

When we are looking are we really seeing?

Photos: ©2007 David W. Sumner

An Important Point, Often Overlooked

2007-08-07T19:42:00.000-07:00

Mark Loundry's column in this month's issue of The Digital Journalist is worth a close read:

"The value of our work lies not in the fraction of a second that it takes to record an image but in the value that the client is getting from it. For example, a large-circulation magazine might charge more than $100,000 for a full-page ad. A smaller publication might charge only a fraction of that, but it's still going to be in the thousands of dollars. Since the magazine itself puts a high valuation on its pages, it makes sense that you do the same with the images that you're supplying to fill those pages."

No matter how much you charge for use rights, the publication that uses your image is always going to make more money from it than you are. So don't sell yourself short.
Photo: ©1991 David W. Sumner