A Darwinian Philosophy of Photography

For a number of years, I have maintained a passive interest in philosophy.  By passive, I mean regularly exposure to various aspects of philosophy without investing the requisite energy and time to truly study it.  One of my passive approaches is subscription to several philosophy podcasts.  “The Philosopher’s Zone” hosted by Alan Saunders is among my favorites.  A recent episode of The Philosopher’s Zone titled “The Art Instinct – Evolution and Aesthetics” was particularly interesting because it combined two of my interests – art (in the form of photography) and philosophy.

Allan’s guestwas Dennis Dutton, Professor of Philosophy at the University of Canterbury in New Zealand who argued a form of Social Darwinism or “Art Instinct” as an explanation for our attraction to art and even as rationale for why we prefer certain forms over others.  I’m afraid I would not give due justice to his nuanced explanation so I will take the easy route and simply cherry pick some of the highlights.

Dutton proposes that one could have an art instinct because “the various aspects of our enjoyment or appreciation of art, our interest in creating it, could have some kind of survival or reproductive value, or it could be in some way by-product of something else that has survival or reproductive value.”  He goes on to say “there might be an instinct to produce creative objects which are admired by your fellows, in which your particular personality, your ideas, your take on the world, are expressed and understood and enjoyed by other human beings.” 

So why do we want to be admired?  And here comes the bottom line:  “It also…can simply be very attractive to members of the opposite sex. I mean, it's not for nothing that we have this sort of folk tradition of groupies going after rock groups and so forth. But I think the rock group groupiedom, is as old as the Renaissance and probably a lot older than that. It goes back to the Greeks and the Romans.”
So, translating this to the photographer-artist, we arrive at the fist conclusion.  Conclusion #1: Photographers have fragile egos that demand the unrelenting adoration of their audience, and by the way, groupies are welcome.  Now we know why photographers make their art.  Pheeew – I’m glad I now understand.

Next we move on to what people like in art, and why.  Alan Saunders begins this conversation with a summary of the opening to Dutton’s book The Art Instinct.  “And it turns out that when it comes to painting, people the world over tend to prefer realistic art, landscapes are the preferred subject for paintings worldwide, and landscapes of a particular kind: a bluish scene with trees and open areas, water, human figures and animals. And this seems to be true, whether you live in the desert, the city, the North Pole or a rural area.”

Dutton responds by saying “…you find that if you look at calendar preferences, preferences for illustrations on the fronts of chocolate boxes across the world, you find this same Pleistocene savannah landscape, the most productive landscape that we enjoyed and where we reproduced well and lived well in the Pleistocene, and that our liking of this kind of landscape is not itself a product of our culture, that is to say, some conspiracy of calendar manufacturers to make us want to like this, it's rather that the calendar manufacturers are responding to our Pleistocene tastes…”
This leads us to the second conclusion.  Conclusion #2:  If you want to be a successful and psychologically healthy photographer while attracting adoring crowds throughout the world and increasing the opportunity of success with your throng of groupies, shoot savannah landscapes with some cattle or sheep - and a shepherd for good measure.

The final segment of the conversation is prompted by Saunder’s question of nature versus nurture (or culture).  Saunder’s asks “Did art emerge as a by-product of other evolutionary developments, is it to be explained on grounds of sexual selection, or is it to be explained because it's selected us to be adapted well to living and thriving?”  As part of his response, Dutton points out the value of art, beginning with the Pleistocene and extending through modern times, as a vehicle or tool for communication, documentation, and description that for which language fails.  The punch line comes from the statement that “At the same time, beyond the kinds of advantages that we have from fiction-making, from storytelling, in terms of natural selection, there's also the fact that storytellers are rather attractive, interesting people who grab our attention, who keep our attention, and who have a special place in our lives. And that seems to me to be an outgrowth of sexual selection.”
And of course, this leads us to the third and final conclusion.  Conclusion #3:  Photographers are handsome, captivating and attract many people to their remarkably interesting lives.

If you care to read the transcript without my highly insightful interpretation, follow this link to the Philosopher’s Zone. or subscribe via iTunes for weekly conversations in philosophy.
Have fun, and go shoot some landscapes of bucolic fertility…with some cows…or sheep…oh yea, and a shepherd, farmer or some other randomly placed person.  Then wait for your adoring fans to bloat your poor, suffering, anemic ego.  And finally, send your friends to this blog…I can still fit my head through standard size doorways.
Craig

What is Hanging on My Walls

As a photographer, I am often asked “what photographs do you have hanging on your walls?”  Likewise when I visit the homes of other photographers, I am always curious to see their choices.

I have a lot of my photography hanging on the walls and frequently themed in various parts.  Because of my first career in the US Coast Guard and my unrelenting need to be near or on the water, it will come as no surprise that I have a great deal of nautical, shoreline, and seascape photography.  The first photograph is New London Lighthouse in New London, CT.  The second is a view of a Marina on the Thames River on a foggy morning in New London, CT. 
On occasion, I will share more of what is hanging on my walls.  What is hanging on yours?
Have fun and go make some great photography?
Craig

Minimalism – Simplifying Your Life and Your Photography

I am perpetually in search of ways to simplify my life.  I am spectacularly unsuccessful in doing so.  It is quite true that I regularly stumble upon or devise ways of simplifying my life.  But like the mold growing on week-old pizza, chaos and complexity have a way of consuming any aspect that may have been simplified to even a minor degree.

Honestly, this is a regular thought for me.  My normal strategy is to shed, discard, or withdraw from things that make my life more complex unless for some likely irrational reason, these things or activities are particularly important to me.  The trajectory intended by shedding these complicating activities is toward a reasonable level of minimalism (by my standards).  Unfortunately it feels more like a perpetual process rather than something for which I am actually gaining ground.

As I was recently once again wondering what I might do to simplify my life, I somehow made the transition to wondering what does simplification mean with respect to photography.  The idea that came to mind was that of minimalism in photography.  So this is my interpretation of minimalist photography.

As I reviewed my portfolio for photographs appearing to qualify as minimalist, I came across quite a number of examples.  For this reason, I am making this a four part series on minimalism.

This first installment features photographs on the water.  Nautical, seascape, or photographs otherwise focused on water related subjects can frequently be classified as minimalist photography.  Often, there are four or fewer objects in the composition; shoreline, water, sky, and perhaps a subject such as a boat, lighthouse, or pier.  These simple elements can often fuse together or transition so subtly that the idea minimalism is easily achieved.

I suppose it would be helpful to define “minimalist” photography.  However, I’m not convinced defining minimalist is a constructive exercise…it is a matter of opinion.  I am not an art academic, your perspective is probably different than mine, and I am quite certain that whatever opinion I hold, my wife will challenge it.

So here are MY thoughts on what qualifies a photograph as minimalist – some combination of the following attributes:

1. Simple or solitary subject
2. Lack of a clearly identifiable subject
3. Uncluttered or very soft background
4. Monochromatic, minimal or no color (highly desaturated, muted, or black and white)
5. Low energy – meaning very little motion or potential motion
6. Graduated transitions rather than harsh lines

I hope you enjoyed this initial exploration of minimalism and will be back for the next three parts.
Have fun, and go make some great photography.
Craig

Reflections

Capturing reflection is a fun and creative part of photography.  Photographs that incorporate reflection are appealing on multiple levels.  But as I was conceiving this post I had to ask “why?”  I know I enjoy shots that take advantage of reflection, but simply acknowledging the affinity is not a sufficient explanation.  To answer the question, I decided to gather the shots for this post and analyze them…what specific elements of the shots created interest, drew the eye, and why. 
The first shot (above), is an example of reflecting something that is not actually in the frame.  All told, this is a more complex form of using reflection.  The composition is dominated by the water feature at the center of the Hirshorn Museum in Washington DC.  However, in addition to the water feature, we see the reflection of the Hirshorn museum proper.  I find this shot particularly appealing because unlike most water reflected shots, the water feature has it’s own texture and depth.  The reflection of the interior walls of the Hirshorn is overlaid on the beams or channels that span the water feature, just below the surface, leading to the large hole where the water drains at the far side.
Now contrast the first shot of the Hirshorn with this one:

This is essentially the same shot, but the composition was expanded to include the interior walls of the Hirshorn rather than just reflecting the walls.  This composition introduces what I have concluded is the second way reflections add interest to a shot; repeating patterns.  Our eyes are naturally drawn to repeating patterns.  I can’t explain why we are attracted to repeating patterns, but I know it to be true.
The next photograph, from the Thames River in New London, CT, is another example of the appeal brought by repeating patterns.

We can differentiate some of the elements of this photo to further distinguish what we find appealing.  In this shot, the reflection is primary limited to the two principal subjects in the shot; the swan and sailboat.  Other features such as the far shore and a house emerging from the fog do not have reflections.  This results naturally in your eye falling on the sailboat, then moving to the swan, and eventually to the fog shrouded shoreline in a clockwise manner.
Now contrast the swan and sailboat with this shot of Mystic Harbor in Mystic Connecticut.

In this case, the reflection runs the width of the entire composition; everything has a reflection.  If you notice how your eyes move through this shot, you will likely find that you pick something of interest such as the lighthouse or the tall ship, then your eyes will move horizontally along the waterline to take in the rest of the shot.
Returning, to the reflective form that brings something to the composition from outside the frame, this shot from Millennium Park in Chicago is a great example.

In addition to the skyline brought into the composition by the reflection, I like having a person standing under the “egg” to provide some scale to the shot.
Water is the most common surface for compositions using reflection.  Naturally, this leads to many nautically themed photographs.  The next four shots are exceptions to the nautical them and use reflecting pools (U.S. Capitol and of minaret of the grand mosque in Abu Dhabi) and the tidal basin in the case of the Washington Monument and the Jefferson Memorial.
 



The next group of shots focus on animals and water reflection.  Specifically, a shot of retriever entering the water with perfect form, and a pair of swan shots.  Notice with the shot of the swan and the boat how the swan mimics the boat.



Finally, I will leave you with two nautically themed shots.  The first is of a radio controlled sailboat in the boat basin of the Calvert Marine Museum in Solomons, Maryland.  The second comes from a fog enclosed marina in New London, Connecticut.


I hope these examples of reflections in photography are helpful in understanding their appeal.  So the next time you are composing a shot with a reflection, try to understand how the reflection adds interest by either developing repeating patterns, or by adding to the composition something that is not directly in the frame.
Enjoy!
Craig

Solitude

The set of photos I will present in this post is focused on the idea and my interpretation of solitude.  The first photo “Georgetown Runner” gets first position because as a runner, I always enjoy the peace, solitude and meditative nature of running.
As we browse through the remaining photographs, something to keep in mind is that other than the obvious, “what makes these photos consistent with the idea of solitude?”  For example, the Georgetown Runner is obviously related to the idea of solitude because he is the only person in the frame.  But what else about this shot enhances the idea of solitude?  I will let you think about it, and I will give you my answer at the end of this post.
The second shot, “Waiting for the Camels” shows one of the camel handlers on a foggy morning at the Al Wathba camel races just outside of Abu Dhabi, UAE.

The “handlers” at the camel races are responsible for leading the camels to the starting gate, managing the start (a story in and of itself) and then retrieving the camels at the finish.  This handler stares off into the fog waiting for the camels to finish the race and retrieve his charge.
This shot is also a good representative of a basic photography standard of composing a shot – the rule of thirds.  Without getting into the details, photographers frequently divide the scene into thirds (both vertically and horizontally) and line the subject up with these imaginary lines.  This method of composing a shot leads to greater visual interest in comparison to centering the subject.  Try it and see how your shots gain greater appeal.
The next shot, “Sleeping in the Park” portrays the essence of solitude.  I do not know the story behind this man, but I imagine a homeless man, and all the difficulties of his life that includes the loss of family ties and friends that most of us take for granted.

The next shot, “Sailing Can Be Lonely” is a completely different perspective on solitude.  Unlike the first three photographs, the subject is not a person, but a thing.  Even though there is no person to represent solitude, the idea fits clearly.

Continuing with the nautical theme, the next shot “Crab Boat on the Potomac” represents the solitude of life on the water.  Anyone who has worked on or around the water knows that being underway is often a lonely business.  Whether it is tending to crab pots, or sailing across the ocean, there is ample opportunity for time alone lost in thought.

The crab boat picture leads me to answer a question posed by a friend over a glass of wine just last night.  As he was looking through my photos, he commented that I have a preference for black and white.  While true with respect to my bias toward black and white, he went on to ask a very good question; “how do you decide whether to shoot black and white versus color?”
I have a number of reasons for choosing black and white, most of which I leave for another post, but for now I will give you my primary criteria.  When I consider this choice, my first question is always “does the color information in the shot add value to the final composition?”  The crab boat shot is a great example; blue/gray water, gray sky, and white boat.  The sparse color in the shot adds very little.  In this case, the choice is clear.
The final shot “A Lonely Sailor” rounds out the nautical theme.

As I look at this shot, I see something reminiscent of Norman Rockwell – a man reliving his youth – sitting on the end of a dock with his toy boat.  Even if we were to expand the view and see that a crowd were standing about watching the boat sail along under a brisk breeze, he is completely alone and intent on nothing more than his boat and executing a flawless tack into the wind.
So, have you thought about the solitude of the first picture of a runner under the elevated Georgetown highway?  For me, the solitude is not only in the photograph, it is how I associate with it.  The photograph encourages me to engage in memories of long runs – alone.  Lost in thought, reflecting on the day, just enjoying the surroundings.  If the photographer is able to engage you in such thoughts, it becomes much more than a picture – it compels you to engage.  I hope you have a similar experience.
Enjoy!
Craig

Into the Sun

All photography is about light.  Understanding light is fundamental to good photography.  Most photography is comprised of light falling on your subject which is then reflected back to the camera.  But what happens when the light source is on the other side of your subject?  The answer is simple…a very difficult shot to do well.  However, I hope to show you it can be done well, and that developing this skill is worthy of you time.
Back lit shots can be characterized by what the light does with the subject.  There are two options – the subject is transparent and the light flows through the subject, or the subject is not transparent, and a silhouette is presented to the observer.
The following shot of the Washington monument with one of the adjacent flags in Washington DC, provide an example of the transparency version of backlit photography.

The next shot of a windmill relic in the Arizona desert near Tucson is an example of the silhouette form of backlit photography.

Sometimes you can combine the two and get both elements of transparency and silhouette in one shot as is the case in the next shot…a cigar and a scotch can truly inspire your photography!

The next two shots break the rules a bit.  They are both backlit shots that should have resulted in a silhouette.  However, with a little help from Lightroom and Photoshop, we get more of a hybrid version.  The silhouette still exists, but both of theses shots bring out some of the details that would normally have been lost.
The first shot is the Air Force Memorial standing just behind the Pentagon.

The next shot is of a Mosque in downtown Abu Dhabi.

As you can see from these shots, and know from my previous posts, I have a natural bias toward black and white photography.  For backlit photography, I believe that black and white is particularly appropriate.  However, there certainly are exceptions.  For example, the shot of the flag next to the Washington monument at the beginning of this post would not be the same without the vibrant colors highlighted by the sun’s backlight.
The next two shots are also shots I chose to keep in color.  However, both are somewhat de-saturated or have a severely limited color palette.  This limited palette gives them a feel of a warmer version of a black and white.
The first shot is of the U.S. Coast Guard Barque Eagle at dock in New London, Connecticut.

The next shot is of a couple of fisherman casting from a jetty near Bridgetown Barbados.

For the last shot, we return to the Air Force memorial.  This shot still falls within the bounds of discussion regarding backlit shots, but it is a unique application.  It is kind of a throw-back shot that ,thanks to the world of bits and bytes, allowed me to do something with a digital camera that can normally only be done with a film camera.  So the keys to this shot were 1) backlighting, 2) taking two exposures, 3) converting both shots to black and white in Photoshop, 4) blending the two shots (by way of layers) into a double exposure.

In the days of film, it was possible to take an exposure, then take a second exposure without advancing the film; thus a double exposure.  Digital cameras do not offer this possibility, but with a little bit of creativity, you can achieve the same effect.
I also wanted to include this shot as a contrast to the first shot on this post.  The water sculpture shot at the National Gallery of Art in Washington, DC, is very sharp and includes a lot of detail.  The Air Force Memorial shot is not sharply focused, lacks a great deal of detail, and could even cause many people to wonder “what is it?”
I hoped you enjoyed these photos.  All of the photos on this blog are available for purchase.  For pricing, send an e-mail to craigcorl@yahoo.com
Craig