The mountains that hold up the sky above the Columbia River are beginning the long, sluggish process of donning their winter coats. Mount Hood, true to its image, looks like a gargantuan tepee covered in what could well be permafrost. Other peaks are dusted in white along the tops of their ridges, growing large snowfields for the season, but less stark than Hood’s glaciated peak.
Fuji makes slide film in two renowned flavors: Velvia, for intensely colored landscape, and Provia, a more true to life but less break-taking color rendition. Before people debated whether or not Photoshop is cheating, 
photographers have been choosing their film ( and shutter speed, and aperture ) to suit their tastes. Galen Rowell famously praised Velvia, asking “Who wants to take dull pictures that will last a hundred years?”
Less people these days are using slide film; photography is a digital art now. And while the biggest influence on color saturation is still lighting, we use Photoshop instead of a favorite type of film and darkroom wizardry now. To that end, how does one recreate a digital Velvia?
There are a number of options, actually. Most people use the Hue / Saturation command. Like most approaches in life, this works in moderation, but will only get you so far. Anything beyond a small dose begins to look overly colorized, like a neon sign in Las Vegas or Disney Land. Curves offers the opposite extreme: a little too cumbersome in its power and flexibility, although it makes a good color balancing tool.
Beyond vivacious color, balance is an important part of a stunning visual impression. Read the rest of this entry »
Something doesn’t have to be big to be compelling. A friend of mine who didn’t know much or anything about photography tried an old camera I used to have with a mega-zoom lens, and described the wide angle as a “grand view.” We’re taught to think in terms of sea to shining sea, of a big sky that stretches from one end of the horizon to the other, as far as the eye can see. This doesn’t always have to be the case.
Bored one cold, dark night in the upper left corner of our map, I found another use for the fire. Today, the sun went down around 4:30 pm, although the Olympic Mountain Range across the water to the west means we loose sight early. It would be an exaggeration to call us the land of the midnight sun, but it certainly feels like eternal night in the winter here.
We respond by staying indoors, drinking lots of coffee, dressing like Eskimos for the occasional sprint from the door to the car. We find “indoor activities.” We feel like miniature Alaskans, bound to The North not just by our coastal mountains, totem poles, and frontier heritage, but also by our brutal climate. It was against this context that photographing two pennies seemed like a reasonable way to pass time:
Read the rest of this entry »
Amgen is a California-based bio engineering firm. Steel beams woven together to form what looks something like DNA. This is clearly a metaphor; the pedestrian bridge over the railway hugging Puget Sound leads to a state of the art research complex. Stylish and substantive, the bridge itself looks as nice as the view it provides:
This is one of my favorite photos.
A bit of luck was involved here; during the two minute exposure on a dark night a train came roaring underneath, burning the image of its headlights into the frame. The intense darkness forces the shutter open for what would normally be an unfathomable amount of time. Seattle’s cloud cover reflects the city light back downward, and given enough time, the wind carries them through the sky, leaving faint blurred traces reminiscent of Van Gogh’s Starry Night.
Elliot is the main avenue along the waterfront north of downtown and bordering Queen Anne. Just to the west, separated by rail lines, is a series of parks: Myrtle Edwards, Smith Cove, Elliot Bay, and, ultimately, Discovery Park, one of Seattle’s favorites. The Helix Bridge connects the Puget Sound waterfront to the rest of the city, and is one of only a few crossings in the area.
Because of the convenience - a trail runs from Kinnear Park, near my apartment, down to Elliot - I’ve walked or biked across this structure a hundred times. A labyrinth of trails lead past loading docks where herons, egrets, and even the occasional osprey hunt:
The time the shutter stays open really doesn’t matter indoors when using a flash. A bright pulse lights up the room for 1/10,000 to 1/100,000 of a second; the shutter curtain seems glacial by this standard. Naturally, whether the shutter ’speed’ is 1/250 sec or 1/160 sec won’t amount to a noticeable difference. The flash has already frozen the scene in this case.
Outdoors, shooting with more ambient light, or a very reflective subject will change things. Your flash has a maximum sync speed listed in its specs telling you the fastest shutter speed you can get away with. Light will continue to flood your camera’s sensor even after the flash stops firing, and can ruin an exposure. Read the rest of this entry »
Welcome to my world: the imagery of Forrest Croce of Seattle, Washington.
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