Showing posts with label California. Show all posts
Showing posts with label California. Show all posts

Thursday, February 27, 2014

Springtime at Big Sur

Cattle Grazing at the Point Sur Lighthouse

Ah, the green of the California Coast! What a welcome sight after a long, cold winter!


a photo of cattle grazing near point sur lighthouse california
Cattle Grazing at Point Sur



Camera:  Canon EOS 5D Mark II
Lens:      Canon EF 24-105 f/4L IS USM


Wishing you great light and meaningful moments!

Copyright 2014 Daniel R. South
All Rights Reserved

Sunday, June 2, 2013

Abandon The Plan!

Know When To Follow Your Inner Voice

While visiting Death Valley, I considered taking a day to photograph the Racetrack Playa. Unfortunately, it didn't fit into my schedule.

The Racetrack is in a remote section of the park. Reaching the area requires a sturdy four-wheel-drive vehicle with special tires - forget about taking your rental car. I only had a few days to see the entire park, and a long side trip just wasn't practical.  

But strange things happen in the desert, and I started to hear a voice.

"You've always dreamed of seeing the Racetrack. You're so close!" the Voice insisted.

"Yes, I know, Voice," I replied. "But I have only three days to see the entire park. I don't have time for an off-road excursion. I'll have to come back and see The Racetrack on another trip."

"Another trip? When? What if that never happens?"

"Don't be so negative, Voice! Besides, I have already planned my itinerary."

"And you can't change a plan?"

"I could..."

"Look, you've come this far already! It would be a shame to leave without seeing the sliding rocks and experiencing firsthand one of the world's great mysteries."

"I know! I would really like to go, but I would have to change all of my lodging reservations."

"Why don't you ask the desk if they'll let you stay for another day or two? Then call the next place to see if you can arrive a day or two later."

"Okay, I'll ask. But they might be booked solid."

"And they might not."

"I would also need to rent a four-wheel-drive vehicle, and who knows what that involves."

"Good news! You can rent them near where you're staying."

"I have no idea how much it would cost or whether any vehicles are available. And what insurance coverage I would need."

"There's this invention called a telephone. You should try it sometime."

"Okay, Voice! I'll make a call! - You're annoying, do you know that?"



a photo of the Racetrack Playa At Sunset Death Valley National Park
Racetrack Playa At Sunset - Death Valley National Park



As you may have guessed from the photo above, the Voice won. I extended my stay in Death Valley, rented a Jeep, and set out early the next morning on one of the most rewarding adventurous of my life.

The Racetrack was amazing beyond words, a truly one-of-a-kind destination. The weather became quite pleasant once the sun came out, although it was below freezing when I arrived before dawn. I had a lot of fun exploring the playa and photographing the trails left by the rocks.

Of course, like any photographer, I hoped that I might be able to capture a dramatic sunset to cap off the day. A nice cluster of cumulus clouds showed up at just the right time.

Death Valley is amazing, and the excursion to the Racetrack Playa was one of the highlights. I would have regretted missing out on this.

In fact, I had so much fun at the Racetrack that I made a second run out there on the following day. Anyone who has ever driven the thirty-two miles (one way) of washboard road that leads to The Racetrack can appreciate just how much of an adventure that was! 



Camera: Canon EOS 5D Mark II

Lens: Canon TS-E24 f/3.5L II

Singh-Ray Graduated Neutral Density Filter


Wishing you great light and meaningful moments!

Copyright © 2013 Daniel R. South
All Rights Reserved

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

The Color of Film

California Lupines At Sunset

The possibilities of digital photography began to catch my interest in the late 1990s.  Unfortunately, digital imaging technology was still in its infancy.  I continued to shoot film while waiting for the quality of digital cameras to improve.

There's a certain mystery to film.  Waiting days or weeks to see the results of an exposure can be frustrating.  You can't take a peek at the LCD screen and recompose or make other adjustments.  You need to evaluate each scene carefully and commit to your most skillful prediction.  No matter how much experience you have with film, there are always surprises.

The surprises may be pleasant, even exhilarating; sometimes not so much.  I've thrown entire rolls of film into the trash bin over the years.  I've also been seen jumping for joy beside a light table upon receipt of newly developed chromes.  Unpredictability is part of the adventure.


a large format photograph of california wildflowers at sunset
Lupines At Sunset, California Coast

Color reversal film, commonly known as slide film, is amazing for documenting colors.  These films are sensitive to slight color casts that our internal optical processing system filters out.

Our brain filters colors possibly in an attempt to protect us from recognizable threats.  If a berry with a certain shade of red will make us sick, we don't want that berry to look differently on a sunny day than it does on a cloudy day, or at sunset versus high noon.  Unfortunately, this built-in safety mechanism reduces our ability to see colors accurately and objectively.

Film doesn't filter colors automatically, nor does it engage the automatic white balance functionality of a digital camera.  Film records any color that was present at the time of exposure including colors that humans can't see.  But here is the interesting part - when we look at a finished slide or print of the scene, we do see those missing colors and we see them accurately.

I have yet to discover a good explanation for this paradox in color perception.  How is it that colors once invisible to use become visible once they have been recorded by photographic processes?  This is yet another reason why cameras tend to yield surprising results.

Photography helps us to see and to understand our world more clearly by showing us what we were unable to see in the moment. 


Camera: Ebony SV45TE
Lens: Schneider 110mm f/5.6 Super-Symmar XL
Film: Fujichrome Velvia 100


Wishing you great light and meaningful moments!


Copyright 2012 Daniel R. South
www.dansouthphoto.com
All Rights Reserved

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

Romancing The Dunes

Death Valley's Most Recognizable Features

Once you're in Death Valley, a trip to the Mesquite Dunes is as easy or as challenging as you want it to be. A five minute walk from the paved parking area will get you out onto some dunes - dunes full of footprints. Visitors just love to climb on sand dunes!

If you want photos of a pristine, wind-swept wilderness, you'll need to hike farther. Quite a bit farther. Keep in mind that hiking on sand is strenuous, and hiking in Death Valley's heat is extremely dangerous.

My trips to the dunes were logged in the winter months, so I didn't have to deal with snakes or life-threatening temperatures. Even so, hiking out to the footprint-free zone was challenging.

In order to keep sand out of my gear, I mounted lenses to my camera bodies while still at the car. I wanted to minimize lens changes in blowing sand. I filled my jacket pockets with reading glasses, a cable release, a lens cleaning cloth, and other accessories and zipped my backpack tightly.



a photo of the mesquite sand dunes in death valley daniel south photography
Mesquite Dunes at Sunset, Death Valley National Park




This is my favorite photo of the dunes. I like the inclusion of the rugged mountains and the way that peaks line up between mountain and dune. The ripples indicate the presence of wind. I was able to use the small piece of dried vegetation to anchor the foreground.

And no footprints! 


A Word Of Caution

Hiking desert dunes can be dangerous, especially in hot weather. Your body will lose moisture with each exhaled breath. The surface temperature in Death Valley can be eighty degrees Fahrenheit hotter than the air temperature, which is typically over 120F in the summer. Walking on sand is physically strenuous, so you'll tire faster than normal.

It's foolish to even attempt a hike into the dunes in the summer unless you're heading out at dawn and intend to return in less than an hour. Regardless of when you go, take plenty of water, MUCH more than you think you'll actually drink. You'll need it, all of it, and probably more.

Never take chances with extreme weather. Be smart, plan ahead, and assume that no one will come to your aid if something goes wrong. Even if you manage to call for help, it could be hours before anyone arrives. By then, you could be a baked potato.

Please - have fun, take some nice shots, and respect the elements.



Camera: Canon EOS 7D

Lens: Canon 70-200mm f/4L IS


Wishing you great light and meaningful moments!

Copyright © 2013 Daniel R. South
All Rights Reserved

Saturday, March 30, 2013

The Ephemeral Landscape

Racing To Catch Up With Things That Don't Move

This isn't one of those self-indulgent tales where the photographer seeks appreciation for how much work they did or how many challenges they overcame. No one cares whether a photo required seven days of hiking in the snow or whether it was taken on a whim during a leisurely stroll.

Image quality and emotional impact are the only things that matter to the viewer.

The subject of this article is time. How is time critical to the making of a photograph, particularly an outdoor photograph that depends on fleeting elements such as weather and fading light? How must time be managed, and what planning does this require?

I wanted to capture a photo of the salt flats at Badwater Basin at sunrise. Specifically, I wanted a photo that showed the geometric salt patters highlighted by a backdrop of colorful light from the predawn sky.

This objective suggested a plan of action and defined specific temporal demands.

I would need to determine the hour of sunrise and estimate how long the color in the sky would last.

I would need to know the distance to the approximate shooting location in order to estimate how long it would take to reach that point, first by car and then later on foot.

I would need to give myself time to fine tune the composition, to focus effectively and determine the required depth of field. I would also need to work around the exposure challenges inherent in blending a brightening sky with a still dark foreground.


a photograph of sunrise on the badwater salt flats death valley by daniel south
Daybreak At Badwater Under A Crescent Moon



Everything leading up to the "peak moment" would need to be dedicated to reaching the shooting position and preparing to take the shot. This included loading gear into the car, driving and hiking in darkness, seeking the exact shooting location and finalizing the composition.

Landscape photography doesn't seem as though it would require a race against time. Mountains don't move. Salt flats are relatively static. There were no animals in the frame to become startled and run away. Yet, I needed to cover great distances and work very quickly in order to capture this shot. As it was, I barely made it. A few minutes of delay would have caused me to miss this opportunity altogether.

Light moves and changes rapidly. Atmospheric conditions are in constant flux. If we want to capture a particular light or mood, we need to move even more quickly than the changes in these environmental factors. We need to anticipate upcoming conditions accurately and then adjust in seconds if and when things don't turn out exactly as expected.

This is all part of capturing the magic moment, and it's what makes the image worthwhile. It's not about how much work we did but about what we were about to create as a result of the effort and planning that went into the shot.

When the viewer sees the image printed or displayed on their computer screen, when they feel a sense of wonder and imagine themselves transported momentarily to the location, that's when the photograph communicates. They don't care how hard your had to work to make it happen. If they are moved by what they see, nothing else matters.


Camera: Canon EOS 5D Mark II

Lens: Canon 16-35mm f/2.8L II


Wishing you great light and meaningful moments!

Copyright © 2013 Daniel R. South
All Rights Reserved

Sunday, February 24, 2013

Death Valley Impostor

The Rock That Wasn't There

Welcome to the Racetrack Playa in Death Valley National Park, that magical anomaly where rocks move mysteriously across a clay-like surface and cut trails to mark the path or their travel.

At least, that's what we think happens. Rain softens the playa and the surface becomes slippery. Wind currents channeled through the mountains are strong enough to move the rocks and cut trails through the soft clay. It's impossible to verify the theory because except for the smallest of pebbles, no one has ever seen the rocks move.

Yet, move they do and trails they leave, and in so doing they capture our imagination. The entire phenomenon is like something from a science fiction story.

There is, unfortunately, a dark side to our story, and that dark side is the hand of man. There are individuals who lack respect for the fragile wonder of places like the Racetrack Playa.

Here is case in point, a subject that I call 'The Impostor Rock'.




a photo of a sliding rock on the racetrack playa at death valley by daniel south
Impostor Rock - Death Valley



We see a long, well-defined trail in the playa, distant mountains, a clear sky, and a rock right in the middle of the action.

The problem is that this rock did not cut the trail, except perhaps for the last few inches. The rock that did cut the trail had a different shape. It would have been a bit wider, and it had a ridge that cut a groove to the left of the main trail.

This rock is an impostor.

Someone took the original rock as a souvenir, probably leaving the trail empty.(There are many empty trails on the playa.) I'm guessing that some well-meaning person put this rock in its place. Hopefully, the didn't snatch it from one of the other trails.


The Racetrack Playa is remote and not well-patrolled. Even if there were rangers on site, the playa is more than two miles wide. It's not possible to watch the entire surface at all times. Inconsiderate people take liberties.

There are signs posted: Don't move or take the rocks. Clearly, this one has been broken a few times. Don't walk on the playa when it's wet, or you'll damage the surface and leave footprints. I saw lots of this type of damage at the southern end of the playa. Don't let your dog run on the playa. While I was there I met a man who told me how much his dog loves to run on the playa, and then he let the dog loose.

The world is full of inconsiderate people, and there's not a whole lot that we can do about it. Let's hope that they don't destroy everything.



Camera: Canon EOS 5D Mark II

Lens: Canon TS-E 24mm f/3.5L II


Wishing you great light and meaningful moments!

Copyright © 2013 Daniel R. South
All Rights Reserved

Saturday, December 1, 2012

My Time In California

Learning On The Go

I knew very little about cameras when I began to pursue photography seriously and I knew even less about creating good photographs.  I realized that I would need to invest time into practicing my new craft.

Shoot.  Evaluate.  Identify the mistakes and the lucky breaks.  Revise the approach, then go out and shoot again.  And again.

I spent a lot of time with my camera.  I got an 'A' for effort even though the results lingered in the 'C' range for quite a while.  A lot of film ended up in the trash, but lessons were learned with every roll.

Eventually, I had a small epiphany - there's value in visiting a location repeatedly.  One can observe the impact of weather, season, and time of day on the available light.  It's also possible to refine technique using information gathered from previous attempts.

I began to develop a list of 'favorite places' that I would visit with some frequency.  Most of these places were within a couple of hours of home, but I added a more distant destination to the list.  Coastal California.


a photo of the big sur coast from hurricane point
Hurricane Point at First Light



I had visited California in the years B.E.C. (before expensive cameras).  It's a land of breathtaking scenery, and I wanted to capture its magic on film.


a photo of mcway waterfall big sur at sunset
McWay Waterfall at Sunset



My earliest attempts at shooting the coast didn't yield remarkable results, but I learned a great deal about the location and local weather conditions in the process.  I also learned that there's a lot more to capturing a good photograph than just pointing a camera toward something interesting and making a 'correct' exposure.

As I explored the amazing Coastal California, I developed a understanding of light, its color, its quality, and its direction.  I developed a methodology for refining compositions from an initial idea to a finished image.  I experimented with techniques for focusing and stabilizing my cameras.


a photo of the point sur lighthouse at sunrise
Point Sur Under Textured Clouds



Eventually, I learned how to predict the occurrence of certain camera-friendly conditions.

When would the light make its first morning appearance over a particular mountain?

Where do you need to park your car to get a particular vantage point?

It's helpful to know these things, and if you pay attention to your surroundings and take good notes, you can return to the scene at a later date to capture something spectacular.  It pays to know what's going to happen before it actually takes place.


a photo of the golden gate bridge at dusk with traffic trails
Golden Gate Bridge At Dusk



Each excursion to my favorite places - near or far - was time well spent.  Even when the photos didn't turn out well, I was gaining insights that would transform my entire approach to photography. 



Camera:
            Canon EOS 5D Mark II

Lenses:
            Canon TS-E24 f/3.5L II
            Canon 24-105 f/4L IS


Wishing you great light and meaningful moments!

Copyright 2012 Daniel R. South
All Rights Reserved


Friday, October 26, 2012

Leveraging the Unexpected

When Plans Go Awry - Keep Shooting!

It was a bright, sunny day - I'm not kidding!  Every cable and rivet of the Golden Gate Bridge was in clear view when I parked my car on Conzelman Road.

As I set up the view camera and composed the shot, I saw one very small wisp of mist pass over the water from west to east.  At first I thought that I had imagined it, or perhaps that a piece of dust had adhered to one of my contact lenses.  But more wisps followed and collected into larger patches.

The bay was full of wind surfers, but now they were beginning to disappear from view.  The fog became so thick that I felt concern for their safety.  Would they be able to see well enough to navigate back toward the marinas?  Would they be able to withstand the sudden drop in temperature?

It took about twenty minutes for the bridge to disappear completely.  This photo was taken in the last few minutes of visibility.  Luckily, the fog rolled in as the setting sun cast an orange glow toward the towers of the span.


a large format fine art photograph of the golden gate bridge in fog
Golden Gate Bridge in Incoming Fog - Fuji Velvia 100

The fog eventually reached my position, and the warm sunlight faded into gray, cold darkness.  I packed up my gear into the car, turned on the heater, and headed to town for a warm dinner.


Ebony SV45TE view camera
Schneider 110mm lens
Fujichrome Velvia 100


Wishing you great light and meaningful moments!

Copyright 2012 Daniel R. South
All Rights Reserved