7.17.2020

My brain tells me to constantly pursue improving gear. My ability to look back at older work lets me know my brain's advice is often futile.


Once upon a time I liked to do live demonstrations about lighting. For a while, after the publication of several books on the subject, I would be invited to do a question and answer session about technique as well as a demonstration.  In 2011 I was very interested in the quickly growing acceptance of lighting just about everything with LED lights. Seems so normal now but nearly a decade ago the standard working protocol for just about everything photographic was to trot out a flash or two and bang away with them. Right or wrong, I thought LEDs and continuous light would become the preferred working methodology for many kinds of photographic projects.

I was right about some of the photographic uses for LEDs and wrong about others. For portraits, products and just about any subject that doesn't move around quickly continuous lighting has many benefits. It's wonderful to see what you are getting as you go along without resorting to frequent "chimping." It's great to easily work at bigger apertures without having to worry whether your flash can be turned down far enough. And, while working with big, soft, multi-diffused lighting it's great that a new generation of LEDs is much brighter than the modeling lights on most flashes; that makes composition and the visualization of the final image much easier. 

But in the early days I was caught short a few times by the unexpected need to freeze fast moving action, like dance, or kid's at play. I learned to really dig into a project's brief and to ask pointed questions about subject movement. If the marketing director at the theater suggested that the actors would be dancing and gesticulating wildly I swapped in conventional flash in the place of the LEDs. 

The image above represents one of my favorite ways to light people, and one of my favorite ways to use LEDs. Looking at it closely these days the image also tells me that most of my camera chasing is an exercise in futility. That the tools we had a decade ago were fine. 

To light this photograph I set up a canvas background and then, to one side I put up my favorite 6 by 6 foot scrim. I covered the scrim frame with two layers of white diffusion material which sucked up about three stops of light. On the side of the scrim opposite my talent (Amy Smith, now ace photographer!) I placed two large LED panels that each had 1,000 individual LED bulbs. I used the panels far enough back from the scrim so that they illuminated it fairly evenly from one side to the other. I angled the scrim so it was 45° from Amy's eyeline. 

She is as close to the scrim as she can get without me having to show the rear edge of the scrim. 

I used a well worn Canon 1D mk2N camera and the pedestrian Canon 85mm f1.8 lens. The ISO was 640 and the exposure was 1/125th of a second at f3.5.  

The set up took about ten minutes and the photography another ten minutes. Then we tore everything down and put it back in the boxes. If there is anything I'll remember with absolute clarity about how we used to do photography it will be the non-stop setting up, tearing down and moving to the next location to do it all over again. Photography of a certain kind has always been about managing the packing and moving of gear....

When I did this particular demo I remember someone asking me why I bothered to make the switch from flash to continuous light. Of course I had a number of rationales but what I really wanted to say was something along the lines of: I get bored easily. I like to try new things. This is a new thing.

And it's also really an old thing. But we all love the look of cinematic lighting work when done well in movies. I was watching the last Jason Bourne movie in bits and pieces last night. When I first saw the film I was watching the action and the choreography of fight scenes. But last night I was so enamored of a quiet scene of Alicia Vikander, lit at a 45° angle, in what was made to look like a vast office flooded with daylight, that I paused the Blu-Ray disc just to look more intently and to deconstruct exactly what was so wonderful about the look of the scene. One could tell that the DP had fallen in love, at least for the duration of the movie, by the look of that actor's face. His lighting was in service to her look and at the same time it was a rich gift for the viewer. 

All of which is to say that it's the final look that counts and all the stuff that happens behind the scenes is meaningless to the final viewer. 

I haven't written a book in ten years so I haven't been asked to do a demo in quite a while. Sad, because I think you learn to lock in whatever style you take time to demonstrate. 

Finally, one of the things I love about working with Amy is that she is so perfect as a talent for demonstrations. As a wonderful photographer in her own right she understands exactly what I'm looking for from a talent and she walks right into the sweet spot of a scene and flashes the perfect look for me. I hardly feel like I'm working. 

45° and 45° is like magic. The final magic dust? The biggest diffuser I can find.


4 comments:

crsantin said...

I don't recall seeing this portrait before. Very nice transition from light to shadow across her face. The lighting here seems a bit different from your other portraits which tend to feature less shadow? I'm a big fan of shadows in all photography whether they be portraits or landscapes or street shots.

I will admit that while I find your furious pursuit of the perfect camera enjoyable, I've always thought of it as futile. No disrespect intended at all here. It's your journey and your money and I always enjoy the vicarious experience of your particular strain of GAS. What I always enjoyed more though was your discussion of the process of making a portrait, taking time to talk to your subject, and create an environment that allows a beautiful portrait to happen. Getting to know someone, hearing someone else's story and having meaningful discussion, that's the missing element in so much of society I think. I think this is what this pandemic has re-taught me. I forgot the importance of listening, hearing someone else's story. I forgot the importance of silence, reflection, sharing. I think your writing is at its best when you are exploring these ideas and I think the portraits you share here are a great example of these ideas at work. I also think you find these ideas in your swimming. The journey inward. Rage against the dying of the light. Art is simply the outward expression of that inward journey. So is good photography. And oddly enough the inward journey cannot happen without connection to other human beings. It's a strange thing being a human.

Anonymous said...

More posts about why and how portraits are photographed. These are my favorites. the swimming posts are okay, but I don't save them to read again.

Jay

bishopsmead said...

You have a wonderful gift of communication both in your photography and your writing; add to that your energy and zest for life and it is easy to see why you are so successful. Please keep up your writing, you have a gift for seeing and being able to describe what you see in an interesting way; the same applies to your photography, but that's a given.

Gary said...

crsantin said it so well. I can only say,Amen. Beautiful portrait.