A Quick Project Done on Green Screen with LED lights.

I got an e-mail from Will Crockett today. Will and I met several years ago here in Austin and I've written a few articles for his Smartshooter.com website. Will was a Canon shooter when I met him and he lit all of his work with Elinchrom electronic flash units. He's a good teacher. But lately this long time pro has gone through a huge change in his gear preferences. He's abandoning all of the traditional DSLRs and flashes and embracing (whole-heartedly) two recent camera and lighting trends that we've been talking about here at the Visual Science Lab for the better part of three years.  He's discovered the transformative power of electronic viewfinder/mirrorless cameras and he's wedding the new camera technology with.......wait for it.......LED lighting systems. Really.  Ground breaking.  Mirrorless cameras (in his case, the new Panasonic GH3) and continuous, LED lighting fixtures. 

I had to smile though as his new site about these trends had an article today about his first foray into lighting portraits with LED's. I chuckled because I've been using LED lighting for portrait work and advertising work for over two years and I have been doing the same work with EVF cameras from Sony (and until recently, Panasonic and Olympus) for at least a year. In fact, the first definitive book about lighting with LEDs for photographers is mine: LED Lighting for Digital Photographers, (Amherst Media) published this past April.

The raw image before dropping out the background.

The timing was also funny. I got his e-mail talking about his first portrait tests with LED lights just as I was settling in to do some post production on this job for a local theater. I shot the images in this blog with my oldest set of LEDs. I used two 500 bulb fixtures on the background and two 1,000 bulb fixtures on the subject. Both of the fixtures used to directly light the subject were color corrected with 1/8th magenta filters and diffused with Rosco Tuff Frost diffusion material. I used a Lastolite Grey/White target disk and set a quick white balance on my camera of choice, a Sony a99 equipped with a Tamron 28-75mm 2.8 SP lens. 

Because of all the misinformation on the web I hasten to add that the background didn't turn green because of the LED lights but because it was dyed green for use as a green screen background, mostly for use in video. The correction set by the camera for WB was not that large.

The color temperature measured in at 5700K and the camera added 7 points of magenta to the mix. The whites are clean, the flesh tones are a good match and the exposures are good. I used the LEDs because we were photographing a shiny book cover as a prop and it's so easy to see when there are reflections on the cover when I use a continuous light source.

My basic exposure was ISO 800 (pretty easy stretch for the sensor in the a99....) 1/125th of a second f4 to f5.6. I shot mostly on a tripod but I did hand hold the close ups.

The session was quick and easy. I was able to pre-chimp every step of the way and the actor was happy not to be flashed in the face over and over again by electronic flash. I think the key to using LEDs for this kind of work (where flesh tones are important) is to be sure and pre-filter the lights to make up for the known dip in the color spectrum (a drop in magenta) and to make a good, initial custom white balance to work with. Especially in cases where you have large areas of rich color in the backgrounds which would surely throw off most auto white balance systems. 

The entire session was watched over by the Visual Science Lab Canine Security and Affection Officer who did a great job warding off weasels and badgers while providing positive encouragement and tail wagging for the studio guests.

I'm still amazed at how short sighted and fearful photographers are when it comes to adapting to new technologies, many of which make our jobs more efficient. I'm happy to see Will recommending the EVFs and LEDs to a mass audience and I'm encouraging any pros who also need to start providing basic video services to their clients to consider and play with LED lights.

It's really one area where the future is NOW. 

You might have to play around a bit to get perfect white balance with the cheapest units like the ones I've used here but I've had a chance to play with a set of Lowell Prime Lights and they have a very high CRI and a very neutral rendering. If you are willing to pay $1800 a panel you'll get a light that lasts a long time and can be used, without filtration, right out of the box.

If you are just getting your feet wet there are some good options on the market for under $200. I really like the Fotodiox 312AS lights which give me a control for intensity and a separate control for color temperature ( from 3200 to 5600K) for around $160. I've bought five of them over the last year and I haven't regretted those purchases for even a second.

On Weds. I'll be doing an assignment for a client that was one of the very first clients I ever did a job for with LED lights. It was almost two years ago and I had just put together my first LED system which consisted of three 500 bulb units and several smaller battery powered units. We shot a series of portraits on their location and several of them ended up as illustrations in my LED book. We did additional portraits for them a year ago and I've been invited back again to do ten or twelve more. I have more lights than I did on the first go around, and a camera that handles lower light output really well. I'm heading to GEAR in the morning to pick up some more correction gel but I'll be using that same, first generation LED technology because it still works well.

I'm happy to use the LEDs. It always leads to discussions like this with clients:  (Me): "...yes, we started to research and test LEDs a couple of years ago when we started getting more and more requests to do short videos for the web. Now we can do one basic set up for both stills and video."

(Client): "Oh, I didn't know you also do video. We've got a video project coming up that I'd like for you to bid on..."

The business is constantly changing. I've found that embracing change is a lot cheaper than fighting it. Remember all those photographers in the early part of this century who claimed that, "Digital Imaging is not ready for prime time yet."? Hmmmmmm. Learning curve.

Happy Hour Shoot at Manuel's Restaurant.

About a year ago we did the photography (and a little video) for restaurant website. My advertising agency client did a nice job filling the restaurant with representative talent and I was left to do my favorite kind of advertising shoot. I asked the restaurant to serve everyone whatever they wanted, I waited for the first round of margaritas to be vanquished and then, by dint of just hanging out with my camera, I became invisible to everyone under 30 and began to shoot from whatever vantage point I wanted. We had a nicely populated restaurant and I shot whatever looked good. Sometimes I would prompt our "actors" or ask them to repeat a movement or expression that looked especially nice but most of the time I just stood back, or down, and snapped away.

All of the images we produced for the website were done in color and delivered in color. But sometimes I like to strip away the color and see what the frames really look like.

This was one of the last jobs I shot with the Canon 5D mk2 and the Canon 1DSmk2 cameras. I worked mostly with the Zeiss 85mm and 50mm lenses. The images above were shot with what was arguably the best of the Zeiss lenses for the Canons, the 35mm f2. I added a bit of grain in post processing because the files looked too "clean."

Where are we going with this photography thing?

introspection.

Looking back over the last four years I seem to have made so many definitive pronouncements about the right way to do photography and the wrong way to do photography. As though there is one shining path that everyone must take to be a real photographer. But all the rules I've learned and all the stuff I wrote is based on a time when photography was a different undertaking. I came of age at a time when the craft was maturing. We were turning away from straight documentation (how photography renewed painting by making it obsolete...) and embracing an exploration of not just the world around us but our interpretation, our slant, on what the world looked like through our own individual lens. And our own local and regional biases.

And, until recently, it was a period in the parabola of the life of photography which required both learned and practiced skills (in everything from camera hold to chemical mixing) and financial sacrifice. The financial sacrifice was as daily as our shooting. This made us selective and it made the generation of images less quick and less available. The time lag between shooting and being able to share was also much, much longer---think days and weeks instead of minutes and seconds.

But images are now the endlessly reproducible, intrinsically value-less, MP3's of art. The cost of creation and replication is measured in fractions of pennies. The distribution is painless and immediate and the choice is endless. The old analogy was "trying to get a drink of water from fire hose." The new analogy is: "trying to fill a dixie cup from a tsunami." How we interact with images has changed completely but have we/I made the evolutionary transition? Can anyone whose experience was birthed in a previous age make the wholesale jump into a new age without the momentum of his old baggage pushing him off the path of unrelenting progress? And would we even recognize the markets if we saw them?

I had to photograph this upside down.

I visit Michael Reichmann's Luminous Landscape website frequently. On that site the feeling I get is of a group of well to do men of a certain age (over 40?, over 50?) who've decided to embrace the new tools but ignore the newer art. The site is a rich resource for learning best practices in landscape photography but the work they show is of a certain period. An aesthetic frozen in the amber of a different time. As is mine and as is the "works" and discussion on every other "respected" site on the web. We are the codification of how things have been done. From my railing about the stinky baby diaper hold to my reverence for the look for old, medium format, black and white images. Even to my selection of human subjects. My prejudices are so worn and predictable. I don't want to make portraits of fat people. I don't think everyone is beautiful on the outside and unfortunately that's all my camera can show. I'm like an engineer doing best practices for the manufacture of vacuum tubes in a microchip era.

As amateurs we make the mistake of looking to established professionals for inspiration, guidance and as sources to emulate but they are the ones who are marking the milestones of history past. To endlessly recycle a variation on an "Avedon" or to "cover" yet another Ansel Adams masterpiece with our own less invested version just adds to the giant, planet wide haystack, which makes finding the little needles of diamond and gold harder and harder.

I guess what I'm really thinking and trying to say is that there is no right  way. No one way. We all have choices. We can continue to go out and explore our own worlds with the idea that we are only creating for ourselves and, in that case, it matter not a bit if we are derivative, if the images are blurry, if we're copying Terry Richardson or Chase Jarvis.  It doesn't matter if we use a big Nikon or a little Olympus. It doesn't matter if we shoot raw or jpeg as long as we find our own joy in the process. Alternately, we can go through a painful transition that is comprised of abandoning the past and going on an endless quest to find what our most personal vision is. In some cases only to find that it's about comfort and routine and safety and that we were never cut out to walk the lonely paths of our most revered artists, like Josef Koudelka or Joel Peter Witkin. And in the end the failure of our mission to break from the nest and move away from the strong, magnetic pull of the assimilated/collective vision is too overwhelming and yields up no rewards and no real treasures.

I grew up in America at a time when everyone got a trophy and every middle class child of even moderate privilege was consistently told that everyone could grow up to be whatever they wanted, even president or olympian, if they put their minds to it. But the truth of the matter is that it's not true. The olympians are almost entirely physical and psychological outliers. Becoming president is in the hands of mischievous and malicious gods in cahoots with the tendrils of fate. And not everyone is an artist. No matter how hard I try I cannot will myself to be "more creative" more insightful and more talented. 

Each of us can take time to attain clarity about why we photograph. And maybe, when we do, it will clear the air for us and make us happier to do that which we can. With more sense of accomplishment.

Whatever art there is in our photographs it is far beyond equipment and opportunity. To do work that we can like, and that others can find something in, we need to add value to what we see. We do it through style and point of view. The secret is to show people a thing or a person or a subject in a way that's never really been seen before. But here's the sad truth: The world is shrinking by leaps and bounds and so many of us are using the same tools, hunting the same visual prey and consulting the same references that the images are becoming homogenous. Pasteurized like whole milk and robbed of their distinctive taste and pleasure.

We have become almost circular in our reference. And it's destroying the surprise and the wonder of the images that we share. That's another reason to abandon our "heros" and to remain insulated from the world of photography at large.

And that's why we end up talking about the gear. It's fun, it's objective, it's hierarchical and it's usually easily attainable. Everything that art is not. 

Just a thought, you're always asked if the cup is half empty or if it's half full. In reality, when you sip the last fragrant ounce of delicious coffee the cup is still full. It's full of air. Oxygen, hydrogen, nitrogen and trace gases. And it is now full to the brim with.....potential.

I hate having to add this note of explanation below but......

This particular blog is not about depression, bitterness and anger. Just a series of questions that all aspiring artists should ask themselves from time to time.  Coupled with one big question: why do we do this?  Which leads to the biggest existential question: Why are we here? And while I'm here, which camera should I buy.....?

blog note: Hey! Reader. Consider leaving a comment. I like the feedback. Thanks, Kirk

The most valuable resource of a portrait photographer? Hint: It's not the camera or the lights...

It's time. Time and patience. The images that I've taken which I like the most are the ones that came in second or third sessions with the same subject. The best portraits come after we try all the goofy stuff, all the serious stuff and all the trendy stuff. Once we get that out of the system we can work on just building a collaboration and playing around with the images. That's the way it works best for me.

This image is not traditionally lit. The light is coming from a point that's on the same plane as Lou's face, not from above or below. The main light is a smaller reflector softened by a beauty dish on the same axis. A big light right next to a small light. Don't know why-----it just seemed like fun.

Slowing down and enjoying the conversations and time together may be more important than Zeiss glass or ultra-megapixel sensors. I know it's more important than which light you choose.

Hasselblad Camera. 180mm lens. Kodak Verichrome Black and White Film (type 6041). Epson Scan.

A portrait on a cold and dreary day. A beautiful respite.

Lou.

In this frame, serious and intent. In the following frame, laughing at our mock seriousness.

New Year's Day Walk with the Sony a99 and One Lens.

I've been learning things about myself lately that I would never have suspected in the past. One thing I've learned is that I'm not comfortable with expensive cameras. I bought a Sony a99 (which I consider to be expensive) and I've been uncomfortable taking it outside the studio on walks. It's not that I think anything in particular will happen to it, rather, on some subconscious level I think I'm just anxious about using it up.  With less expensive cameras I never worry about things like the number of shutter actuations I'm putting on a camera, or how much the camera gets bounced around. But, when I take an expensive camera out I tend to think the way I do when I put on a nice suit---I don't want to get it dirty or scuffed.  And if I really like the way the suit fits I don't want to---use it up.

I know it's a bit crazy but I have no compunction at all dragging any of the other cameras around with me. Anyway, just to get over my irrational dis-logic I grabbed the a99 and the 85mm Sony f2.8 lens and took it out for a long New Year's Day walk. And what I found out was that this particular camera is.....lovely.

I started my walk at Barton Springs Pool and headed downtown. The roundtrip was about four and a half miles, plus a detour for a cappuccino at Caffe Medici and a quick stop at Whole Foods Market on Sixth and Lamar.

The three attributes of the a99 that I find I like best are: 1. The very quiet and un-frenetic shutter. There's no mirror slap and the first curtain is set to be electronic so the noise profile of the camera is low and subdued. A secondary benefit, beyond aural discretion, is the elimination of the mirror and shutter vibration that comes with most DSLRs and seems magnified in full frame DSLR cameras.

2. The electronic viewfinder is a very efficient way to compose and technically "set" photographs. I've mentioned the idea of "pre-chimping" on a regular basis since I started working with the nice electronic viewfinder produced by Olympus for the various Pen cameras. The viewfinder on the a99 is big, clear, detailed and nearly transparent, from an operational point of view. I love being able to look into the EVF and see, immediately, if the scene will be properly exposed, or if I have to pay more attention to white balance or contrast. And being able to visualize the effects of custom creative settings before committing to a frame is wonderful. 

I understand that some people feel the (few) issues with an EVF outweigh the value provided by the technology but I regard the EVF as mandatory now for truly professional photographic tools. I also like that the brightness and the color balance of the EVF can be fine-tuned or customized to each user's preferences.

3. Finally, the camera is neither too big nor too heavy to carry around for hours at a time. Nothing like the ponderous Canon 1DS mk2 I was carrying around a couple of years ago. The a99 is smaller than other professionally targeted cameras and it's a real benefit for the people who go everywhere with their cameras. The same can be said for the tiny, 85mm f2.8 lens. It weighs next to nothing.  If I need to feel burdened in order to justify my status as a professional photographer I have several options: I could seek out the assistance of a mental health expert or, I could add a battery grip to the bottom of the a99 bringing up the weight (three batteries, total, in the mix in this configuration) and size by at least 50%. But my perception is that clients don't really care about the cameras anymore and most of the non-professional photographers I hang around with actually like the idea of "smaller, lighter but still high quality."

I was happy with the Sony a77's and I'm very happy with my two Nex cameras so why did I bite the big financial bullet and drag home this expensive tool? I can answer that by telling you a tiny part of my conversation with a good, long time client I met for lunch at our favorite Chinese restaurant today. We were talking about doing more marketing work for several restaurant groups in Austin and he wanted to know if I was still moving into video.  All of the websites will probably end up getting video art on the landing pages. He wants to work with me as the supplier for both stills and video and he was checking in to see that I still had the desire to do video and, more importantly, that I was still making forward progress in the field.

He loves kinetic, handheld, fast cut video and we talked for a bit about the capabilities of the a99. He suggested I work on my hand held video snapshot style and we moved on to another conversation. If I do one or two video projects for the restaurants I will have paid for the camera all at once. But more importantly it's easier to shoot fast moving stuff when you can maintain full phase detection autofocus or just as easily switch to manual focus and make use of the very well implemented focus peaking. The client likes slow motion effects and the a99 is one of the first DSLRs to offer native 60 fps at its highest resolution and quality settings. It slows down beautifully, in post production, for slo-mo effects.

So, as I walked around the lake and through downtown I started to warm up to the a99 pretty much for the first time. Amazing to me given that I've had the camera for more than a month now and this is my first real episode of bonding with the device.

But the proof of the pudding is in the tasting. I knew it was a good serviceable camera when I reviewed the high ISO images I'd made a few weeks ago at the Dell World Conference but now I had a new set of images to pry into and analyze. I shot raw yesterday and converted in Lightroom 4.3. The colors are rich and the files have the long tonality that comes from generous dynamic range and well engineered, in camera curves.

It's hard to get emotional about the a99.  There are no real eccentricities of the kind that make you love and hate a tool simultaneously. The best description I can come up with is that it feels incredibly neutral. The ball is in your court. The camera can be configured to render a bunch of different looks but in the hand and in the raw processor the overwhelming feeling is neutrality.

It might be the Goldilocks story of top professional cameras: Not too little, not too big. Not too wacky but not too normal. From the sensor to the handling to the sound, to the feeling you get when you hold it, everything seems just right.

In my experience there are two ways to fall in love. One is the instant reckless infatuation. You fall head over heels when the other person walks through the door. For weeks or months the other person can do no wrong. Every conversation is enchanting but-----a short time later there's the fiery break up, the realization that you have nothing in common and that your friends are staunch conservatives while her's are Molotov cocktail throwing Marxist radicals. In a flash it's all over between you. 

And then there's the person you fall in love with after a long, growing friendship. It's quieter, less dramatic and less---emotional. But it lasts and it causes a lot less wear and tear on you. 

As I warm up to the Sony a99 I think it's a lot more like the second option. Less drama, more value. A few more walks and I think we'll be comfortable together. 

A new year of photography. I only have one resolution...

And that resolution is to spend less time sitting in front of my computer and more time out walking, taking photos, dipping myself into the river of real life. I have lots of micro goals but taking back my time from the tar pits of the internet is the sole resolution.  To that end I've wound down my participation in almost every forum out there. My time on Facebook is limited to about five minutes a day. I've largely given up on Twitter except to automatically post a notice every time I finished publishing a blog.

My take on the whole internet thing is this: The more information I accrue the less I know. Reading about something is not the same as understanding through doing. Reading someone else's description of eating a great meal is never as satisfying as sitting down and experiencing that meal on your own. For the same reason I never waste time watching sports on TV (or in person). Why would you want to do that when you can go out and play the sport yourself?

So many of my friends are locked into a logic pit or endless learning loop. They spend hours every day reading about someone else's photographic techniques as though reading about it is an osmotic process that will embue them with the knowledge they need to do something with their cameras. In the end they might discover that the only real knowledge is that which they win themselves. Trial and error is a better learning tool than most other methods. Trying and refining is the next tool. Mastery and abandonment is the next step. Learn something remarkably well and then abandon it in order to do the art without conscious reference to operational information and logic. But all the web can offer is a river of information. It doesn't offer the trial, the test, the process of making the art your own. I used to look to the web for indications of where photography was going. All I discovered is that everyone's work is going in all different directions and none of those directions have anything to do with my work.

My goal isn't to master a fad or a popular technique. My goal is to make images that matter to me. In my style. And that's a style I've built over decades; one I don't plan on changing to match the whims of collective. If you are having problems developing a style the first step is to turn off all the external influences that distract you.  And that means less time on the internet and more time doing your work.

The image above was taken last Saturday. I'd gone for a walk in the late afternoon.  I'd passed by this building so many times during daylight hours and never really looked in the windows but when the daylight faded and the lights of the display became dominant the form stood out. I was carrying my Sony Nex-6 and the (permanently attached :-) ) 50mm 1.8 OSS lens. I lifted it to my eye and snapped a few frames. When I got back to the studio I cropped it square and printed a small copy. I can't explain why I like it but I do. And if I'd spent the time "researching" on the web I would have never seen the scene in this particular light. It would not have existed for me.

My one resolution: Create more photographs. Spend less time on the internet.

“Inspiration is for amateurs—the rest of us just show up and get to work,” --Chuck Close