Most blogs, portfolios, slide show talks, etc. contain nothing but the best pictures a photographer can show. I want to start a new personal series for the 2-6 people who show up to read this blog or maybe just look at the pictures. Why do some pictures get shot out in the wild and then never get used, shared, or talked about. They disappear into the hard drive black hole never to be seen again. Why did I do the picture in the first place? Why doesn’t it get shown?
Photojournalism professor Ken Kobre at SF State would have each student hang the three black and white pictures of the week’s assignment onto a wall in the classroom and ask, “What’s a hit? What’s a miss? What’s an almost?” Then the students would engage in a discussion about the three pictures of the student/victim showing them. I always regarded it as the absolute best way to learn photography. It teaches a person to learn how to “see” a picture. It also teaches a person to have a thick hide and be able to take criticism without feeling bad. We all have hits, misses, and almosts in every aspect of our lives. The key to getting better is to both know what they are, the differences between them, and learn how to repeat the recipe for the hits. This applies to all jobs and walks of life. Think of whatever it is you do and what it felt like to do something perfectly. Also think of when you missed and what the steps you took to miss. You can learn equally from both.
Just today I did a post on the wedding photography blog site about a picture where everything blended together perfectly to create magic. That portrait was not a miss.
So… What’s a hit? What’s a miss? What’s an almost?
I shot this picture of a bristlecone pine snag just after sunrise early on the same day I shot the tree in the last post. I’ve posted some other pictures from the same couple days here and there on this site. Sometimes I really do well in a short period of time, and others I do poorly. Just after spending a couple days in the White Mountains I went backpacking in Dusy Basin of Kings Canyon National Park. As well as I did in the White Mountains, my work that week in the Dusy Basin was horrible. It’s all part of my hypothesis of how some of the best pictures are made within a mile of parking the car (except in the Hoh Rainforest) and when a person hikes up the side of a mountain, a person gets really tired and doesn’t see with the same eye or creative vigor.
The rays of light that cold morning were crisp and clear. No dust, smoke, clouds, or anything else obstructed that pure light. This purity of light occurs frequently in the White Mountains at sunrise. The snags and trees look dull and regular in the middle of the day there, but on clear mornings some kind of amazing trick of the light transforms these features into works of art. I really love the snags.
So I searched for a lone interesting snag with a snag-less background and blue sky. I probably used a polarizing filter for the picture. The giveaway can be seen in the sky with the right hand side looking much darker than the left. The lens used didn’t get recorded on the metadata, but looks like a middling focal length of 35mm or 50mm. Probably the 50mm because it was much lighter than the 35mm and I was headed out backpacking the next day.
My favorite pictures don’t need much work. Hit auto-levels and maybe do some sharpening for a little extra contrast and that’s it. This picture meets that criteria. Early today when I was searching for an example picture for this kind of post that’s all I did to get this look. Plus I had to get rid of a couple spots in the sky. But that’s it.
So why is it an almost? By itself: perfectly good. But looking at it next to the other pictures from the morning and it fades to the background. I wanted simple with the yellow/blue color contrast, but it’s too simple. It needs a moon or something else happening to make it slightly better.
Here’s an example of nearby bristlecone pine snags shot on a different trip that I love. Earlier light, so it’s better. Plus the main pine gets echoed with the other pines behind it. The sky is that uniform amazing clear blue too. The problem with this picture for me is the lens I used, an ancient Nikon 24mm f2.8D made for film. Digital sensors really can exaggerate any sharpness flaws in a lens. This lens worked perfectly well for shooting Fuji Velvia. It was lightweight and sharp. But you can see it looking a little soft on the edges. So another picture needing to be reshot with better gear at a similar, but maybe a tiny bit earlier to be just right.
Even though I would like to reshoot this picture in similar light, it’s way more interesting to me than the solo snag that didn’t make the cut.
The question then becomes, “if the picture will be a miss or an almost, why shoot it in the first place?” A good question. Because sometimes when a person spends time shooting a picture that won’t ever get used, a person misses the better picture just behind him/her slipping past them unseen. It’s why a person needs to keep the head on a swivel and stay moving when working. Don’t get stuck doing a picture for awhile. Frequently the pictures requiring the most work look the worst when editing. Sometimes a person forces those pictures into the final mix because they took so much work to make happen. It took me many years to walk away from the high maintenance pictures.
When shooting, keep to the OODA Loop. Stay moving. Stay asking questions. Stay working quickly and efficiently. Visualize your pictures before setting up the camera and shooting. Learn how to do this quickly and without even thinking about what it is you’re doing.
It would be nice if we each had ten people looking at our pictures and roasting us about them every week. But we don’t. We have to do it ourselves. Two thirds of the pictures will be misses and almosts. Even the hits need to be weeded down to the regular hits and the super hits. The picture I’m using as an almost might be a hit if it wasn’t shot on the same day as so many hits. Which is a good thing. Because without ten people telling you a picture isn’t very good all you have is yourself. If a set of pictures are all, every one, almosts, then you might think a so-so picture is good when it isn’t really that good. Then when you go to give a lecture about pictures a sucky picture gets thrown in every now and then. A person needs to be harsh on themselves.