Tree contemplation

[Vaughn]

I know, writers say the darnedest things. Unfortunately for photographers, they have to be grounded in reality.

Really, why? What is reality? Is your reality the same as mine? IMO, no.

I have a close friend who experiences an array of color that no one else can see under certain circumstances. Her brain interprets some stimuli as color (a rare but documented occurance in humans). When I stand amongst the redwoods, I experience a visual vibration of their trunks. That is my reality, is it also yours?

Eliot Porter's use of color in the dye transfers of Glenn Canyon always disturbed me -- to me they were not the "real" colors. Yet to him they were.

Vaughn

[Bill Burk]

I'll walk around a tree that strikes me. Or I'll climb a hill nearby for a better vantage point. I climbed a tree near the Alonzo Stagg redwood to get close to the bark. The little extra effort helps, as far as satisfying myself.

Once I visited Mike Law, author of "To Find The Largest Tree." You should see the maps wallpapered on the wall of his cabin. He drew circles in pencil around every Giant Sequoia grove he surveyed. I joked with a friend that I could work from these maps and make it a project to photograph every single Giant Sequoia. My friend encouraged me that it could be done, since they only grow in known groves along a 200 mile stretch of California.

Not long ago, James Balog came out with his book which treats the subject thoroughly. Balog also felt the frustration that often you cannot see a whole tree, so he climbed and rappelled to paint the Stagg tree with hundreds of shots that he stitched together. There, in the middle of the sequence, I could see he got a view similar to mine. He completed an image for me, where I could only capture a fragment.

[ntenny]

(wrt the Ed Abbey quote about the juniper tree)

I know, writers say the darnedest things. Unfortunately for photographers, they have to be grounded in reality.

Can you elaborate? I'm not sure what conflict you perceive between Abbey's sentiment and "reality".

Now, I'm not sure what the quote would say if he'd been talking about photography instead of writing, but I can imagine a couple of possibilities. For instance, some people would argue that a single "right" photograph of a juniper tree can contain an enormous wealth of ideas all by itself, and I'd tend to think they have a point. I'm thinking you disagree but I'd be interested to know in more detail why.

-NT

[Toffle]

What a wonderful twist to the discussion - reality. Thank you Hikari.

I recently visited Clyde Butcher's gallery in Venice, FL. (Wonderful place, and wonderful people. Stop by and visit; they'll give you a tour of his very impressive darkroom.) One print shows a beautiful, tranquil stand of trees in the south Florida swamp. It is an absolutely stunning (and huge) print. The caption beside the print describes the difficulty in obtaining the shot, as Clyde and his camera were precariously perched on the edge of a busy four-lane highway. The print shows no clue of that reality. I remember thinking at the time what an interesting juxtaposition it would have been to have taken the photograph from the far side of the highway, with the speeding traffic against the timeless backdrop of the swamp. Which photograph would have more accurately reflected the reality?

As photographers, we choose our reality. It is a matter of our experience and training (and intuition) to compose a shot to include or exclude certain elements, or to manipulate lighting and depth of field to bring emphasis to where we want it to be. We can choose to give hints as to what exists outside the edges of the photograph, or intentionally conceal that reality. Similarly, we can choose to take a photograph in a way that suggests what is taking place before or after the shutter is clicked... or not at all.

Somewhere in between this all is the reality that we, as photographers, choose for our audience to see.

"Reality, what a concept." - Robin Williams

[cliveh]

What a wonderful twist to the discussion - reality. Thank you Hikari.

I recently visited Clyde Butcher's gallery in Venice, FL. (Wonderful place, and wonderful people. Stop by and visit; they'll give you a tour of his very impressive darkroom.) One print shows a beautiful, tranquil stand of trees in the south Florida swamp. It is an absolutely stunning (and huge) print. The caption beside the print describes the difficulty in obtaining the shot, as Clyde and his camera were precariously perched on the edge of a busy four-lane highway. The print shows no clue of that reality. I remember thinking at the time what an interesting juxtaposition it would have been to have taken the photograph from the far side of the highway, with the speeding traffic against the timeless backdrop of the swamp. Which photograph would have more accurately reflected the reality?

As photographers, we choose our reality. It is a matter of our experience and training (and intuition) to compose a shot to include or exclude certain elements, or to manipulate lighting and depth of field to bring emphasis to where we want it to be. We can choose to give hints as to what exists outside the edges of the photograph, or intentionally conceal that reality. Similarly, we can choose to take a photograph in a way that suggests what is taking place before or after the shutter is clicked... or not at all.

Somewhere in between this all is the reality that we, as photographers, choose for our audience to see.

"Reality, what a concept." - Robin Williams

Very well put and thats why it is such a complex medium.