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<title>Phlog</title><link>http://www.lyndersaydigital.com/index.html</link><description>A blog about photography by Mark Lyndersay</description><dc:language>en</dc:language><dc:creator>mark@lyndersaydigital.com</dc:creator><dc:rights>Copyright 2008 Mark Lyndersay</dc:rights><dc:date>2008-11-24T23:54:06-04:00</dc:date><admin:generatorAgent rdf:resource="http://www.realmacsoftware.com/" />
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<lastBuildDate>Tue, 25 Nov 2008 00:23:42 -0400</lastBuildDate><item><title>PhotoPlus 2008&#x2c; Day Two</title><dc:creator>mark@lyndersaydigital.com</dc:creator><category>Photographers</category><dc:date>2008-11-24T23:54:06-04:00</dc:date><link>http://www.lyndersaydigital.com/brain/pix_files/McNally.html#unique-entry-id-15</link><guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.lyndersaydigital.com/brain/pix_files/McNally.html#unique-entry-id-15</guid><content:encoded><![CDATA[Mac Talks


Joe McNally speaks at the Nikon exhibit area at PhotoPlus 2008.   Photograph by Mark Lyndersay


The show floor at PhotoPlus is a busy place.   Most of the bigger vendors host mini-lectures, signings, demonstrations and tutorials that are all worth a look, and it isn&rsquo;t unusual for the corridors between booths to be blocked when a popular photographer shows up.


That was how I ended up spending most of Friday afternoon with Joe McNally, not that he noticed.


I was stumbling around the show floor when the huge crowd in front of one of the Nikon spaces drew my attention and McNally was just getting started.


This was a show for the punters, with lots of big bright photos and a demonstration of basic lighting techniques using diffusion screens and Nikon&rsquo;s new strobe system.   I&rsquo;m a Canon user, myself, so it stung a bit when McNally took some cheap shots at Canon&rsquo;s admittedly less sophisticated wireless system.   That got salved pretty quick when the Nikon wireless links went wonky during the photographer&rsquo;s demonstration.


Still, the gregarious photographer blustered through, swapping strobes and keeping the banter going as he glossed over the issues in favour of the technique.   It was an intriguing glimpse into his technique for keeping a shoot going when the technology collapses all around you.


McNally would offer more glimpses into his approach in his formal seminar &ldquo;The Moment it Clicks: Tips for the working photographer&rdquo; an hour later.


This was a markedly different Joe McNally, possibly a wearier presenter.   Gone was the salesman&rsquo;s shill and in its place was an appealing honesty as he pulled up a chair and asked an audience of photographers he seemed keen to treat as peers.


This presentation was more focused on McNally&rsquo;s personal projects, including his work with firefighters after 9/11 and other projects with the room-sized Polaroid camera.


&ldquo;You have to shoot something that makes your soul sing, you have to shoot something that makes you happy.&rdquo;


&ldquo;The basic message that was left on cave walls is the same one that we leave, we were here.&rdquo;


These are some of the reasons why McNally continues with editorial work when advertising opportunities await.


Then the photographer discussed the path he took to where he is today, sharing a remarkably open and direct story about his time with Geographic, which was &ldquo;difficult.&rdquo;


On his commercial assignments, he can end up shooting 120-140 gigabytes per day.


For the National Geographic story on early humanity, the society created Wilma the reconstructed neanderthal at a cost of US$85,00, but then realised that the super realistic mannequin would not be suitable for public display and would only be used in the magazine.   McNally then had the assignment to place &ldquo;Wilma&rdquo; in settings that would make her seem to be alive in the past.


On business: &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t dupe people, I believe in disclosure.   When it comes to billing, make everything clear from the get go, put everything that&rsquo;s agreed on in writing.   Insist on non-exclusive contracts, but I&rsquo;ll give my (my what?   I can&rsquo;t read my own handwriting here) away if somebody pays me enough.]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>PhotoPlus 2008&#x2c; Day One</title><dc:creator>mark@lyndersaydigital.com</dc:creator><category>Gear</category><dc:date>2008-11-04T08:42:04-04:00</dc:date><link>http://www.lyndersaydigital.com/brain/pix_files/PhotoPlus01.html#unique-entry-id-14</link><guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.lyndersaydigital.com/brain/pix_files/PhotoPlus01.html#unique-entry-id-14</guid><content:encoded><![CDATA[Papa's got (another) brand new bag


The first mission at PhotoPlus was always going to be finding a hook for the lead report for the Guardian, but after that, there was some of my business to take care of, the kind of business you can only get done when pretty much every major photography vendor is in one huge hall, desperately keen to talk to you about their products.


I spent some of that time bitching chatting with supplier representatives about some niggling issues I'd been having with their products.


At Westcott, it was a gripe about the plastic cap that they ship on the tip of their large folding Apollo softbox (a cute but poor design that cracks far too easily), and the design of their right angle clamp for these boxes, which is either a hex shape or a milled screw type, neither of which is particularly easy to tighten by hand.


You really have to be an Apollo user to understand these issues, but if you are, you'll know exactly what I'm talking about.


At Tenba it was all about some curious design decisions they made with their Gen 3 Photo/Laptop Messenger bag <http://tenba.com/pc-953-12-photolaptop-messenger-bag-black.aspx> that I bought at last year's expo.   After some fairly tame travel, the front pocket seams began to separate from the main bag body.   I don't mind some wear and tear in my gear bags, but this seemed to me to just be shoddy stitching on a bag that was pitched to professionals. 


Pros should expect their gear to stand up to more than a few shoves into an overhead compartment.


Took the opportunity to chat with a bag designer about these issues and some others that I've noted over a year of using the bag and got a hearing, though it seemed kind of pointless since Tenba didn't even bother to bring this bag line to the expo this year.


That took their Gen 3 sling bag out of the running for me, since part of the Thursday mission was to get a smaller sling bag to use for covering the remaining two days of the Expo. 


The Gen 3 bag is a gift when you're moving from country to country or from the studio to a big assignment setup, but it's a bulky hunk of nylon and padding hoofing it around a show floor.


Tenba was busy hawking their new line of sling bags, the Shootout series <http://tenba.com/pc-978-21-shootout-medium-photo-sling-bag.aspx>.


This line is, shall we say, inspired by LowePro's popular sling bags.   I bought one of those last year  and sold it off quickly after finding it both a poor fit for my body type (massive) and right-handed orientation.


Here's a tip list for anyone trying to make a killing in the sling bag market.


	&bull;	Many of us aren't the size of the slim young men of medium height that you advertise using your products.   We are bigger, rounder and much more fussy about the gear and how it fits.


	&bull;	One man's right-handed draw is entirely inappropriate to another shooter's and this sometimes has more to do with habit than which hand he favours.   I eventually sold off the LowePro because I didn't like the way it hung on my shoulder.


...I realise that it's difficult to pad the entire length of the sling strap, but at least try to cover the most commonly used area.   I dismissed several slings because at six and a half feet tall, the padding on the strap didn't even reach my shoulder properly when the bag was hanging the way it was supposed to.


Kata's D-3NI-30 sling bag.   Photo courtesy Kata.


So what did win out? 


I needed something light, wearable as a sling that could carry the basic equipment that I was using to cover the Expo and give me quick access to it.


After a number of try-ons, the Kata D-3NI-30 sling finally wooed me successfully.


It isn&rsquo;t quite as small as I would have liked, but the two smaller models just didn&rsquo;t fit my frame.   Positives in the D-3NI-30&rsquo;s favour included a generous sling length, partly the result of a design decision to have a second strap available that makes the sling wearable as not just a backpack, but as a backpack with crossed straps. 


Padding on the sling is reasonable, but not really generous and there&rsquo;s a sliding pad that you can move around to increase your comfort with the bag.


It&rsquo;s no secret that most sling bags have abandoned alternative designs in favour of the success and obvious utility of the basic LowePro sling design.   That gives you a bag that tends to be long and narrow that slides around your hip to your front, giving easy access to camera equipment through a side load port that becomes a top load port when you bring the bag to your stomach.


The dual sling design of the D-3NI-30 follows through to the access ports.   There&rsquo;s one on either side of the bag, essentially putting one on the bottom when you&rsquo;re in sling mode.   The Kata representative on the floor at PhotoPlus promoted this as a feature that allows you to make use of dead space in the bag for equipment that isn&rsquo;t being used as often.   Getting to it isn&rsquo;t easy though, and you really have to take the bag off to get to gear on the secondary port.


I&rsquo;d like to see Kata think about beefing up the padding on the active sling, perhaps with an adjustable and removable padding wrap that you can zip or velcro to the strap.   Kata&rsquo;s design style includes an electric yellow cloth for their interior padding and while I&rsquo;ve warmed a bit to brighter colours on the interior of bags, opening a Kata gear bag still feels like opening a glowing Pandora&rsquo;s box. 


The D-3NI-30 is a worthwhile design break from the LowePro lozenges and given the size and capacity of the bag, adding a small slot for carrying a 13 inch laptop doesn&rsquo;t seem as if it would have taken much room at all.   That would make it an almost perfect runaround bag for photographers on quick shoots who need to download and transmit files in the field.]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>PhotoPlus 2008: Microstock Superstars</title><dc:creator>mark@lyndersaydigital.com</dc:creator><category>BitDepth +</category><dc:date>2008-11-04T08:20:33-04:00</dc:date><link>http://www.lyndersaydigital.com/brain/pix_files/microstock.html#unique-entry-id-13</link><guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.lyndersaydigital.com/brain/pix_files/microstock.html#unique-entry-id-13</guid><content:encoded><![CDATA[Further notes from the Microstock Superstars session


Kelly Cline takes questions after the panel discussion.   Photography by Mark Lyndersay. 


The strata of stock photography today are microstock, midstock and traditional or macrostock.


Different agencies have different maximum sizes available as the largest files they sell, these &ldquo;extra large&rdquo; sizes command the largest fees in the microstock business.   Prices also go up based on the sales figures of the stock photographer, the more photos sold, the higher the selling price for their images in the library.


Yuri Arcurs makes 30 percent of his sales income from extra large and expanded licenses.


Kelly Cline is the only one of the four panelists who is exclusive with an agency (iStock Photo), and experienced a 100 percent rise in income, faster inspections turnover an exclusive queue and improved exposure as a result.


Yuri produces 1200 or more images per month for his stock submissions, well above the 60 per month limit for iStock Photo.


Yuri Arcurs: &ldquo;Many agencies are running on the edge, so prices are likely to rise.&rdquo;


Some stock photographers have had success with software that handles uploading to multiple agencies at the same time, Torrens suggests ProStock Master and Cushy Stock.


Two hundred thousand images are being inspected every month and arbitrary rejections for unsatisfactorily specificied issues are far too common among stock image inspectors who focus on technical quality.


Successful photographs are clean, simple designs, focusing on lifestyle imagery, no composites, no sharpening, no postproduction work on images.   Keep the focus on end-use.


Kelly Cline: &ldquo;when you shoot, think like a designer, leave space in the composition for copy, use white backgrounds on objects to make them easier to drop out.


Kelly Cline has successfully carved out a niche in people and food photography, with many successful images showing people interacting with tasty looking dishes.


Yuri sees naturalism to be a growing trend in the future and he finds that a lot of microstock images look posed and stilted.   In lifestyle photography, styles are changing faster than ever and images can become stale quickly.   &rdquo;Big sellers will generate income, but all your other images will sell as well.   I&rsquo;m developing my photoshoots around the idea of a storyboard.   We develop a situation, but we also think about what happens before and after that situation and plan the shoot around that as well.&ldquo;


Key to success is ensuring that stock photographers find the right balance between spending on producing images and the expected return per image (RPI).   Kelly Cline averages a return of 125 percent on her image collection.


Andreas Rodriguez: &ldquo;as long as you keep uploading, your revenue stream will keep going up.&rdquo;]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>What a difference a lens makes</title><dc:creator>mark@lyndersaydigital.com</dc:creator><category>Basics</category><dc:date>2008-09-20T20:11:34-04:00</dc:date><link>http://www.lyndersaydigital.com/brain/pix_files/acc4424057de73f1353926c77917e469-12.html#unique-entry-id-12</link><guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.lyndersaydigital.com/brain/pix_files/acc4424057de73f1353926c77917e469-12.html#unique-entry-id-12</guid><content:encoded><![CDATA[My theory boils down to this: Put one of these babies on your Rebel XS and see a world of difference in the quality of your images.   Photograph courtesy Canon.


Before you read on, here's the summary in a sentence.   Buy the cheapest digital camera that will do what you need and the lens you can't afford.

I haven't always been as careful as I should have been about choosing lenses for my photography.   I shot most of ten year's worth of theatre photography with an essentially broken Tokina zoom lens because it was stuck wide open and I never needed anything else but maximum aperture for that work. 

The other Pentax lenses that I used were a mixed bag, though I never regretted buying their 100mm fixed portrait lens, a magnificent and miniscule tube of glass that got a lot of use for portraiture.

My studio work was shot on Hasselblads and a Mamiya RB67 equipment and there were never any options for lenses for those cameras beyond the camera maker's products.

When I finally switched to Canon four years ago, I was in for a world of instruction about kit lenses, bargain lenses, third party lenses and professional grade lenses and their impact on the digital files I was working with

.

Perhaps it's because today's digital cameras capture images that you can easily enlarge to 100 percent, but sharpness has become something of an obsession in the digital age and photographs that seemed quite astonishing just a few years ago now seem a bit mushy and soft.

Perhaps the big difference between today's image evaluation process and pre-digital systems is that capacity to inspect fine detail and how readily it is available.   To inspect a negatives or slide with the same level of detail that anyone with a 17 inch monitor has at their disposal today, I would have had to mount the piece of film into a projector and blow it up to at least three or four feet wide. 

Needless to say that wasn't part of my day to day workflow, though zooming in with a single click on a toolbar is standard operating procedure.

One of the first jobs I did with my Canon Rebel XT was a job that required massive enlargements, on the scale of six feet tall and while the client was happy with the work, I could see the kit lens failing at the edges, even at two stops down.

Later on, as work picked up, I upgraded to the Canon 5D and picked up Canon's 24-105 lens to go along with it.

Just three months before the warranty expired, I fell victim to the 5D's Achilles heel, the notorious weak internal mirror mounting.

Canon graciously agreed to repair the camera, but it wouldn't be back until weeks after Carnival, so I was going to have to shoot through Carnival with my backup camera and this fancy new lens.

What happened after that forever changed my thinking about the relationship between cameras and lenses in the digital age.

Simply put, with Canon's premium red circle glass on pretty much any of their digital SLR cameras will give a digital photographer high quality results.

Like most scientific findings, it makes perfect sense when you think about it.   Sensors are basically a commodity technology that get mounted into cameras in exactly the same way.   Some are better than others, but those differences tend to show up at the extremes, when you boost the sensitivity of the sensors.   In broad daylight, one is pretty much as good as another.   Lenses are another kind of technology altogether.   These unassuming tubes of glass are an amalgam of precisely machined glass, critically aligned optics and threading all brought designed with close tolerances to gather light rays into focus on your sensor.

The best lenses do this extremely well and are constructed to keep doing so for a long time to come.

Cheaper lenses make tradeoffs to reduce cost.   Lens elements may not be made from premium materials, critical parts of the lens barrel and machining may be made of plastic instead of metal, maximum apertures may be variable and quite small compared to the constant, "faster" glass of premium optics.

You may have no need for the best of everything when you buy your lens, but if you grow as a photographer, one day you will and chances are that you will have changed cameras a few times by then and stuck with the same lenses.

Better cameras sometimes take superior pictures to their budget brethren, but better lenses always will.

So to return to the mantra that I offered at the outset of this post; buy the camera you need and the lens that's beyond your needs.   You'll save money in the long term if you do.]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>Channelling Penn for Pierrot</title><dc:creator>mark@lyndersaydigital.com</dc:creator><category>Technique</category><dc:date>2008-09-08T19:52:50-04:00</dc:date><link>http://www.lyndersaydigital.com/brain/pix_files/pennstyle.html#unique-entry-id-11</link><guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.lyndersaydigital.com/brain/pix_files/pennstyle.html#unique-entry-id-11</guid><content:encoded><![CDATA[If these photographs look a little familiar, it's because they should.   The photographic style is a shameless ripoff homage of Irving Penn's early portrait lighting, later made into a career by William Coupon and Norman Seeff.


It isn't particularly complex technically, being window light stripped to its basics.


That simplicity makes special demands on the photographer-subject relationship and photographs can be successful or utterly uninteresting as a result of the quality of that interaction.


Gayelle offered me a small space just off the main studio where the presentations were being done.   I was able to liaise with the production staff to set up a flow directly off the camera stage to my little studio setup and back to their seats.


Adding a wrinkle to the plan was the fact that the official awards were not ready for showtime, so two previous awards were used for the presentation and part of my job was to "invite" the freshly awarded recipients to lend their awards back to the production staff for on-camera recycling.   That's why the awards have that alarming red tape strip which you can't help seeing once I've mentioned it.


The setup was pretty simple.   A folding painted backdrop provided the background and another reversible (black/white) unit was placed white side out to the left of the shooting space.   Only one light was used to the right, a White Lightning 1600, throttled down to quarter power and pumped into a large 52 inch square softbox provided the main light.


On average, I had two minutes with each subject, inclusive of explanation, posing and shooting.   This dovetailed nicely with the reduced power, which allowed for brisk recycling times and fast shooting.   The relatively low light output (f7.1) made the background nice and soft.


These photos are now the inaugural exhibit in my first "Virtual Gallery" collections of images in extra large format that I'm offering as an alternative to meatworld showings.]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>Theron theory</title><dc:creator>mark@lyndersaydigital.com</dc:creator><category>Technique</category><dc:date>2008-08-22T23:11:47-04:00</dc:date><link>http://www.lyndersaydigital.com/brain/pix_files/theron.html#unique-entry-id-10</link><guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.lyndersaydigital.com/brain/pix_files/theron.html#unique-entry-id-10</guid><content:encoded><![CDATA[Theron Shaw, photography by Mark Lyndersay.


Ace jazz guitarist Theron Shaw visited the studio to consult on his new CD.   Like every artist with a product on the shelf, he wanted an album cover that would make people stop, look and purchase.   Given the nature of the jazz market, which focuses on appreciation of an individual's talents, we agreed that putting him on the cover was our best bet. 


I wanted to capture some of the introspection and passion he brings to his playing, the delicate symbiosis between performer and instrument that inspires non-players to the adventures of air guitar.


Theron is the real thing, and he's too busy working his frets to engage in antics onstage.


We shot a few variations on the theme of musician making music, but the image on the cover was always the one I envisioned for the cover.


Today's CD covers have to embrace the reality that the physical media will be short-lived.   Even legal owners of a CD will normally rip the file to MP3 format and the serious digital music aficionado will embed the CD cover image into the digital file. 


I'm hoping that Theron goes to electronic distribution with this album, which makes a simple, easy to read image particularly crucial, since album images have now effectively shrunk from 12 inches to five inches and now down to just about an inch square in software that previews album art on a computer or MP3 player.


Since the pose was going to be relatively passive, the image had to pop though light.   I opted for a dramatic, controlled staging of the scene.


The lighting plan is keyed with a large softbox just a few angles wider than 90 degrees to the camera position at right.   This offered broad illumination to the subject but threw much of his left side into deep shadow. 


To pop his left side off the black background, I added a second light with no modifiers to his left.   This hard light source gives the left of his body a defining line of light to separate it from the background.


To bring the focus subtly in on the business at hand, I used a single light with a 20 degree grid almost directly over the camera position to brighten his left hand as he plays.


In the final image, which will have to be readable at the size of this thumbnail, artist Richie Joseph, an old school friend and fine designer, has replaced the black background with a nice blue glow that lifts the final art nicely.]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>Why I hate shooting tethered</title><dc:creator>mark@lyndersaydigital.com</dc:creator><category>Opinion</category><dc:date>2008-08-12T20:29:08-04:00</dc:date><link>http://www.lyndersaydigital.com/brain/pix_files/tether.html#unique-entry-id-9</link><guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.lyndersaydigital.com/brain/pix_files/tether.html#unique-entry-id-9</guid><content:encoded><![CDATA[Just so we're on the same page, shooting tethered is the practice of connecting a digital camera to your computer system and establishing utility links between the computer and camera.


This is pretty easy to do, since today's digital cameras are as much computing devices as they are light tight optical boxes.   You camera is very much a peripheral of your computer system, so being able to control it from the desktop shouldn't be surprising.


My own experience with tethered shooting comes out of two projects, one a copy job that tethering the computer made a bit easier and the other was a commercial project that proved to be an appalling distraction.


It's one thing, I've found, to confirm that an inanimate object has been recorded correctly and quite another to work in a situation that creates a maddening dynamic that invites input from everyone in the room.    This group think distracts attention from what I like to think of as the magic zone, the space that I work to create in an environment of light and human focus to draw the best from a subject.


I don't have too many pretensions of art when it comes to my photography.   I work hard at it and try to make every photo a bit better than the ones that I've done before.   If I happen to make something that's considered artistic, or at the very least attractive along the way, then great.


But what I do believe, is that once I have a brief and a subject, I'm in control and the idea of somebody looking at a screen and hollering "wait, wait" for some nitpicking reason isn't particularly alluring to me.


I do review my work with clients in studio and sometimes on location.   I'll occasionally zoom in using the preview LCD on a particularly good expression or pose and show the subject what they look like on the back of the camera.   That's sometimes a pivotal part of building trust and confidence in a session.   On most studio shoots, I try to review a full take with clients before they leave to get a sense of what they like.


I really like PhotoMechanic for this.   The software generates previews of 2GB  folder of RAW files fast, which is what you need when a client is looking over your shoulder.


I know that some clients really prefer to work this way with photographers, viewing the shoot as it progresses, but at some level, it just feels like a lack of trust and I'm used to working with film and the occasional Polaroid as the sum total of pre-development confirmation.


After three decades of working in this business, it just feels like a step backward in the process of photography and while there are environments in which shooting tethered represents a great advance on the axis of Polaroids and prayer, my working methods aren't usually enhanced by bit for bit border inspection.]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>RBC Signing</title><dc:creator>mark@lyndersaydigital.com</dc:creator><category>How</category><dc:date>2008-07-15T12:46:35-04:00</dc:date><link>http://www.lyndersaydigital.com/brain/pix_files/rbc.html#unique-entry-id-8</link><guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.lyndersaydigital.com/brain/pix_files/rbc.html#unique-entry-id-8</guid><content:encoded><![CDATA[RBC&rsquo;s Suresh Sookoo, Peter July, James Westlake and Ross McDonald


I generally don&rsquo;t do Public Relations photography any more, but some sessions are more historic than others.   I photographed Peter July (second from left) for the first time almost 30 years ago at the very beginning of my career as a photographer and this return engagement was an important opportunity to show my stuff three decades later.


At the best of times, this kind of photography is rushed and the pressure is steady.   Arrayed to my left and right were corporate communications folks from Canada and Trinidad looking on in a way that completely unnerve you if you take your eye off the ball.


The ball in this case is getting four grown men to focus on a staged signing ceremony with the right attitude of professional attentiveness and corporate responsibility writ large on their faces.


This isn&rsquo;t as simple as it sounds.   The silliness of having a huge sweating photographer lurching about in front of them with various white objects and the importance of what they need to be doing next inevitably keeps attention spans short and focus drifting.


If there&rsquo;s one thing I&rsquo;ve learned about this sort of thing, (as recently as the RBC-RBTT announcement photo which preceded this assignment and faltered a bit in its focus) it&rsquo;s the importance of clear direction, fast shooting and continuous feedback (which can&rsquo;t be &ldquo;give me more baby, yeah&rdquo;).


I shot with a Canon 5D with a 17-40mm lens to RAW using the Canon STE2 transmitter to trigger a handheld 580EX in my  left hand with a small Chimera softbox for fill and a 420 EX to my right bounced into a Westcott 45&rdquo; folding umbrella as the main light.   I slammed out around 50 variations on this in the time we had (roughly 6 minutes) and generated an edit for the client 30 minutes later on location for the first pass selection.]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>Pixels are NOT free</title><dc:creator>mark@lyndersaydigital.com</dc:creator><category>Business</category><dc:date>2008-06-24T12:04:40-04:00</dc:date><link>http://www.lyndersaydigital.com/brain/pix_files/pixels.html#unique-entry-id-7</link><guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.lyndersaydigital.com/brain/pix_files/pixels.html#unique-entry-id-7</guid><content:encoded><![CDATA[Memory cards.   Photography by Mark Lyndersay.


Now that I'm looking for the damned quote, I can't find it at all.   But it's in there, I know it, it's just crammed in with some of the best location shooting advice ever gathered between two covers of a book and I keep getting distracted.

The book is Joe McNally's excellent and highly recommended "The Moment it Clicks," a collection of photographs and behind the scenes stories and technical advice from a shooter whose style is essentially "bring back the best shot."

Somewhere in those pages McNally wrote the words, "pixels are free" and it jumped out at me.   Not so much that I'd drop a Post It on the page so that I could find it again, and I'm sure that it was in the context of shooting in the same situation with film and trying to set everything up again.

McNally, who has an imposing collection of gear, knows damned well that pixels aren't really free, but some new photographers and practically every client on Earth is convinced that they are, so here are some thoughts about that popular fallacy.

A new 4GB memory card sells now for less than US$60, just about what it cost to buy and process a few rolls of 36 exposure film, but you can wipe that card and use it until it fails, which for a well-made card is quite a few writes and rewrites.

So after you've shot the equivalent number of film frames, the card is free, right?

Well, no.

Every image has a cost before and after it's made. 

The card has to be put into something to make an exposure, and unlike the good old days of the Nikon F3, the digital camera you buy today has a radically shorter shelf life.   Even if the physical equipment holds up, the reality is that advances in sensor chips practically ensure that a camera has a useful life for a professional photographer of around three years.

Any pro worth his salt has built his business around the reality that the cost of a digital camera should be absorbed by billings within a year, eighteen months tops. 

If you don't have the billings to cover the cost of the camera you want in that time frame, then it's time to either set your sights lower or start hitting the streets for some more work.

After you capture the image, it's time to start preparing the files.   High resolution image files demand a fair bit of processor horsepower if you want to finish your work in something approaching real time, so that's either a state of the art laptop, if you're hooked on mobility, or a serious desktop, both kitted out with giant gobs of RAM.

Your digital darkroom has a useful life that closely tracks your camera equipment and needs to be amortized on pretty much the same schedule, so that's some more fixed costs to add to your annual bottom line over the next year or two.

Add in your costs for editing and organising digital images while you're working with them and your costs for these "free" pixels just keeps rising.   I estimate that for every hour I spend shooting, I need to match it with at least another hour in Lightroom making sense of the shoot and prepping it for client review and approval.   Then there's finalising work in Photoshop, which can escalate into insane amounts of fussing time when I'm feeling particularly anal retentive.

Then there's the dark abyss of digital photography, storage.   Having shot, edit, post processed and delivered your best work, you need to keep it.

This is one area that film has digital completely beat.   I have shelves full of binders with negatives of my work over the last 30 years that are still accessible, but there are images I've shot just six or seven years ago in digital format that are gone forever.

An archival and retrieval system for photographers is pretty easy to put together, but it's an enormous pain in the butt and easy to forget to put in practice.

The reality is that both hard drives and optical media fail, so you can't trust either.   Old media must be regularly migrated to new media, unless you plan to keep an old system around that can read SCSI drives, and even the best optical media should be rotated out in favour of newer discs.

There's a method to the madness that I work with, and I'll probably do a post about that later on, but more germane to the matter at hand is that it costs money just to keep pixels active and available.

If you aren't bothered by any of this, then you should cost your photography according to the ease of use afforded by modern digital photography methods, but any remedial efforts you make to salvage the work afterward will be coming out of your pocket.

I like to at least work at the pretence that I'm running a business, and that means factoring in the real as well as the anticipated costs of capturing, editing and maintaining a professional photographic archive of work.   And my pixels end up being pretty damned expensive.]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>Light and the egg</title><dc:creator>mark@lyndersaydigital.com</dc:creator><category>Basics</category><dc:date>2008-06-15T22:02:00-04:00</dc:date><link>http://www.lyndersaydigital.com/brain/pix_files/egg.html#unique-entry-id-6</link><guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.lyndersaydigital.com/brain/pix_files/egg.html#unique-entry-id-6</guid><content:encoded><![CDATA[The Egg Syndrome


One of the most basic photos a photographer can try is the egg shot.   Set as an assignment in some photo courses, it's meant to be an introduction to the way that light strikes surfaces.


It's surprisingly effective at demonstrating texture and shape.   Shoot an egg the lazy way, straight on with a flash mounted on the camera and you'll get a featureless oval, the outline of an egg with none of the curious interest that the genesis of chickens can offer when you hold it up to the light.


Most eggs have some colour, ranging from a creamy off-white to a rich milky brown, an intriguing pebbled texture and a very distinctive shape.


I set this assignment for some young photographers that I coach occasionally and the results were, shall we say, interesting.   After some griping about the apparently annoying simplicity of the assignment, I saw images that reflected some wrestling with the subject (it's difficult to get an egg to stand up) and lighting for the sake of putting the light source in odd places.


I always try to eat the dog food I set out for others, so the images accompanying this entry are my own take, in a demonstration session, on working an egg with a single light source.


In the first photo, we start with the egg lit by a single source of light (Canon 580EX) from a 90 degree angle (counting clockwise from the camera position).   This is a bit of cutting to the chase, to get right down to the business of delineating shape and texture, though what we actually get is half the shape and a whole lot of texture.


Fielding a request from the floor, I move the strobe to roughly 135 degrees, which gives a cool rim light to the egg.   The cool "new moon" or "Alien" effect, depending on your tastes, reduces the light to a bright highlight, the result of the extreme incident angle between the light and the camera and particularly rich texture where the highlight falls off.


It's worth noting at this point that the egg is surrounded by darkness because there is no other light source on it.   It's time to fix that.


In photo 3, the angle of the light is reduced to around 110 degrees, to strike a midpoint between the extreme fringe light of photo 2 and the above average, but improveable 90 degree angle of photo 1.


There is also a white reflector (a sheet of white foamcore) introduced to the image at roughly 270 degrees, angled slightly in toward the egg and just outside the range of the lens field of view.   This puts a soft light glow on the right side of the egg, rounding out the shape and giving us just a hint of balance to the image.


In the final image, a light modifying device is added to the flash, a Lumiquest Big Bounce diffuser which changes the source of light from a single point source into a broader source of light that tosses illumination all around the room.


As the light becomes less intense on the illuminated side of egg, the returned light on the right hand side of egg from the reflector board becomes just a bit brighter in relation to it.   You can usually figure out the size of a lightsource from the reflection it leaves on a reflective surface.


The scattered light source is now broad enough to scatter light onto the background, raising it from perceived black to a shade of gray.   The wall is actually white, but doesn't receive enough light to register above the tone you see.


Note: The clamp that's holding the egg in place is different in the final frame, after the original egg fell and broke between photos 3 and 4.]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>Making &#x27;Making Mas&#x27;</title><dc:creator>mark@lyndersaydigital.com</dc:creator><category>How</category><dc:date>2008-06-14T20:33:43-04:00</dc:date><link>http://www.lyndersaydigital.com/brain/pix_files/bf1e9479b46fc0ba69187b2302051f24-5.html#unique-entry-id-5</link><guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.lyndersaydigital.com/brain/pix_files/bf1e9479b46fc0ba69187b2302051f24-5.html#unique-entry-id-5</guid><content:encoded><![CDATA[Making Mas wasn't my idea.   It was suggested to me by Anthony Wilson, currently the Acting Editor in Chief of the Guardian, but he saw the possibilities of a series on the creation of Carnival costumes modelled along the lines that I've been exploring in Trinidad and Tobago with Local Lives.


Local Lives has been on hiatus for a year while I worked on other projects that were, to be frank, less about art than commerce.


Since my return to full-time professional photography in 2006, I've been very clear about my own need to balance what people need with what I want to do and the best way to achieve that has been pursuing my own projects in the spaces between formal assignments.


With Local Lives on pause, I took up my La Fleur Morte project as a way of feeding my personal work Jones.


Making Mas is, basically, Local Lives but with a more circumscribed subject, a single page allotted to each instalment and a pretty brutal deadline.


The project launched with its first instalment on January 11, 2008 in a Carnival season that would last just four weeks into the new year and costume construction proceeding apace.


I was given a page on Monday and another on Friday for a total of seven instalments before Carnival Monday and Tuesday.


There were some aspects of the project that weren't completed.   I badly miscalculated the construction schedule for Children's Carnival costumes and when I started calling, everyone was finished their work.


There were other aspects that were a challenge.   This was, ultimately, a series about a single thing; people with their heads bent over working on costumes.


Making Mas isn't the first time that Carnival costumes have been photographed as they were being created, but over the years a lazy shorthand has evolved to describe the process. 


There's the headpiece being fitted to the pretty masquerader shot, the acting like I'm doing something with a glue bottle/pliers/bit of wire shot and the bandleader pointing to the costume designs shot.


Some bandleaders or section managers told me right up front that they didn't have time to pose.   They seemed pretty surprised when I told them that posing was the last thing I wanted.


Getting around the predilection of people to perform for a camera is always a challenge, particularly in circumstances where a camera rarely gets poked.   My usual method is to work quietly and continuously until everyone gets bored and gets back to what ever they need to be doing.


The cruel deadlines of Carnival 2008 were a big help with that.   Clowning around for the photographer wasn't something that anyone in charge of production had a lot of patience with.


...People bent over working, again and again tends to get boring, so I employed lighting (Canon hotshoe flashes at arm's length or on lightweight stands in some circumstances)  whenever existing light failed me to lift workers out of the realm of the humdrum and sought situations that brought character to the work.


I like my lighting to be invisible, so in many cases the strobe light is meant to either fill unreadable shadows or put light where you would expect to find it, now where it makes me look terribly clever.


...The photograph of Douglas John and his mother was true to the situation, but John offered to bring some backpacks and headpieces back upstairs to hang on the line (he had put them away a few hours before).


...The photo of the Tribe packaging line required two wireless hotshoe flashes to light in circumstances so dim that even high ISO photos were murky and undistinguished.   I then had to keep shooting until everyone got back into the rhythm of packing and set my presence perched on a ladder aside in their minds.


Some situations were rich with opportunities; others were a mystery to be decoded.   The Kalicharans work in a small space, no more than thirty feet square, leaving me in a box with few angles to explore.


As with Local Lives, I produced each instalment from beginning to end, from selecting the people to be featured, to conducting the interviews, writing the story and roughing out the layout.


If a Local Lives story is a short story, each Making Mas was a haiku.


Without a second page to extend the visual aspects of the story, I needed to ensure that the words didn't repeat the photos and vice versa. 


...Some lovely photos that didn't offer enough information were set aside in favour of less dramatic images that knitted the story together more tightly.   There's a tableau photo of Ancil McClean that I particularly like but it didn't read as well small as the one I finally chose.


After the photography was done, I'd spend a day with a rough draft of the story and a rough layout of the page, juggling impact with information to tell the best story that was most likely to grab some attention on the printed page.


I delivered colour corrected and toned RGB files with NewsEdit copy and a PDF and print of the rough layout to the Guardian and let the designers do their work.


It was a tough project, with far too little time and too little space, but it was a remarkable opportunity to meet a wide range of mas producers working in Trinidad today.


What has been particularly striking about the experience is the hospitality and enthusiasm of my subjects.


In the afterglow of the project, I've found even more surprises in the reception that it has received on the web.   In January 2008, my web visitors jumped by more than 1,000 for the month with key references coming from Trini bloggers focused on the Carnival space.


So in concluding, here's a hearty big-up to the folks who took kind note of the work.


...If you're interested in some of the off-camera strobe techniques I use, visit this website.
]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>Making &#x22;A Tomb for the Imam&#x22;</title><dc:creator>mark@lyndersaydigital.com</dc:creator><category>How</category><dc:date>2008-06-14T18:45:34-04:00</dc:date><link>http://www.lyndersaydigital.com/brain/pix_files/makeimam.html#unique-entry-id-4</link><guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.lyndersaydigital.com/brain/pix_files/makeimam.html#unique-entry-id-4</guid><content:encoded><![CDATA[Creating a Local Lives essay means engaging people, not one of my natural strengths.


I'm a disaster at first impressions.   I actually only really get going somewhere around on the third or fourth meeting, so creating an essay either means working at it fast and hard, which was typical of the first three instalments or being patient.


But as I mature with the project, I realise that slowing down and taking my time can be even more rewarding (yes, I know how it sounds).


"Imam" was shot over four weeks, beginning in early January 2007.   I chose the Panchaiti yard for the laziest of reasons.   They are just two blocks from my home.


That proved to be as much a curse as it was a blessing.


The photography, much of it in the enclosed space of the Imambara generated more than 1,500 images, which I edited down to just over 500 as my first edit.


The picture above was from my first encounter with the people of the Panchaiti yard, and it is a kind of warm-up, a declaration of what is to follow.   Nothing from that first shoot even made it to the first edit.   You can see the second edit here.


Moving from the final take to the published piece is one of the most difficult experiences I face working on a Local Lives project.


The next step for me is proving how the images work together.   I normally batch process small grayscale JPEGs of the final selects and place them in facing pages in a word processor.


I use Apple's Pages for this, because that's what I use for word processing, but the software has a useful "masking" feature that allows me to crop images to fit.


This is where the essay really comes together for me, and I can see if a narrative is really taking shape. 


I will sometimes find that something isn't working out at all and return to the original pool of images to find a better image.


This is the point at which I must "kill my darlings", the good photos that don't advance the narrative.


For "Imam" the process of whittling down the first selects to placed images on the page was particularly difficult.


In the sketch above, you see the changes I made at the bottom right of page one, changes which continued through to the final layout.


Below my crude rough is the final piece, paginated by the Guardian's Dexter Solomon. 


I usually sit with a mamber of the Guardian's design team to finesse the final crop of images and to reslve problems when my rough layout is rebuilt in Quark Xpress.


A slideshow in Flash of the final selects, which I turned into grayscale images using Photoshop's Channel Mixer is available here.   (Update: I now use Lightroom&rsquo;s Virtual copies for this transform) 990033


A downloadable version of the final layout in PDF format is available here.]]></content:encoded></item></channel>
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