Image Spotlight

I’ve shot tens of thousands of images in the 20+ years since I first picked up a camera, but some of them mean more to me than the others for one reason or another. In this section I’ve chosen some of these kinds of images - ones that speak about a particular aspect of my development as a photographer, even though they may not be the most impressive or beautiful photos I’ve ever taken. Each image is accompanied by an explanation of why it’s so significant to me; hopefully this is an interesting window into how I’ve grown and changed over the years as a human who likes to take pictures. I’m realizing as I write these, though, that the primary audience for them is myself…

This image is significant to me for two reasons, although neither of them is obvious from the photo itself. Ok, superficially, I did grow up as a baseball fan (both watching and playing), but that’s not why I’ve included this particular photo here.

The first thing about it is that I shot this as a stock photo for istockphoto.com. When I started learning digital photography back in the early 2000’s, I (somehow, I don’t even remember how) got into selling stock photos through iStock Photo, which at the time was a relatively small site with a great community and message board (where people hung out on the internet back in those days). This was transformational for my photography knowledge, because all photos submitted to the collection had to undergo a rigorous review process. The reviewers would reject a photo for any number of reasons (both technical and creative) and give feedback to the submitting photographer. Sometimes the images could be fixed and resubmitted; other times they were beyond saving and rejected outright. My rejection rate was pretty high in the beginning, but as I focused on the notes of the reviewers, I learned how to correctly balance ISO, aperture, and shutter speed to produce clear, clean images with distinct focal points and purposeful composition. My technical knowledge of digital photography and post-production grew exponentially in those early years as I submitted hundreds of photos for evaluation, like this simple image of a baseball, uploaded back in 2009. The second reason I’ve

chosen to highlight this image is the gear I used to capture it - the original Canon 5D and EF 24mm f/1.4 L lens. The 5D was my first full-frame digital camera body. I had to sell my (newer) 40D and buy second-hand to get one, but I was overjoyed to have it. (If you’re not familiar with full-frame vs. crop sensor discourse, bless you; don’t look into it.) Its specs are laughable today (12.8 megapixels, max ISO 1600, only 9 AF points, 3 frames per second continuous shooting…) but the images it produces are just magical. It truly is a remarkable camera. Unfortunately I can’t quite recommend picking one up these days. You can get one for a few hundred bucks now (the thing cost $3,299 when it came out), but it was one of the last cameras that didn’t have an automatic dust-removal feature for the sensor. It will still take amazing photos, but you’ll spend time cloning multiple dirt blotches out of every image - god help you if you shoot at f/11 or narrower. (The 5D Mark II from 2008 is a much more sensible choice if you want an old full-frame DSLR.)

Ah, the EF 24mm f/1.4 L. This lens is largely overlooked by most Canon shooters because it’s not a part of the “Holy Trinity” (35mm f/1.4, 50mm f/1.2, 85mm f/1.2) and just a bit too wide. I’ve always been naturally drawn to slightly wider-than-standard focal lengths, so when I had saved up my pennies for some sweet Canon-L glass, the first one I went for was the 24mm. Even with its relatively wide focal length, the 24mm is still capable of producing pleasing background blur and shallow depth of field. This image, for example, was shot at f/2, a full stop down from wide open. It speaks for itself, I think.

One thing about living in southern Pennsylvania is that you’re spoiled for choice if you like dirt track racing. I generally become more interested in something if it presents me a photographic opportunity, and that was definitely true of sprint car racing. Between 2008 and 2012, I attended more than 50 races at Lincoln and Williams Grove speedways, partly because I knew a guy who ran a racing team, but mostly to practice a completely new photographic technique - panning.

In normal photography, you want to keep the camera as still as possible while it captures the scene. In panning photography, you need to move the camera (in a very particular and precise way) while it captures the scene. The way to capture images like the one to the right, for example, is to use a shutter speed too slow to “freeze” the motion of the car and, while the shutter is open, synchronize (as best you can) the movement of the camera with the movement of the car.

This, as I soon discovered, is difficult to do well. Much of how I’ve learned all of my photography has been through trial-and-error, and this was no different. I’d shoot hundreds of images of the cars flying by, then go home and do some reading on the internet and chatting on message boards about why my images didn’t look how I expected them to. If you’re looking for some quick tips: your main enemy is unwanted blur, which either comes from the shutter speed being to low for your panning skills or from parallax caused by the inconsistent relative movement between the subject (the car in this case) and the camera lens. To solve the

first problem, you just need to get better at panning, while understanding that there’s always going to be a practical limit to how slow you can go. This image of Cory Haas’s 11c barreling out of turn two, for example, was shot at 1/60 of a second at f/8, at a focal length of 100mm. I found that 1/60 was the practical limit for me given the speed of the cars and the distance from where I stood. Most of the time I’d shoot at 1/80 or even 1/100. Still, keepers were the exception: I’d generally delete eight to ten photos for every one I kept. To solve the second problem (the parallax one), get further away from the action and use a longer lens. The greater the distance between the camera and the subject, the slower you can go without seeing parallax blur.

One of the more interesting things that came of this was the interaction I had with other established photographers, guys who had been shooting these races for a very long time. The tracks have official photographers, and there are other professionals who get permission to shoot these events and sell their photos for profit. There are also lots of amateurs like me who are just doing it for the fun of it. When I started posting some of my images on message boards, though, I noticed that the professionals (and most of the amateurs who were emulating them as the gold-standard) weren’t shooting the cars this way. Instead, they were using external flash units on big metal brackets and shooting at much faster shutter speeds, more like 1/250 of a second. The results are quite different from the image you see here, and not (I’d argue, anyway) in a good way. The faster shutter speeds stop the action of the cars too much, making them look like they’re practically just sitting still on the track. The flash also produces some unpleasant reflections on the cars at night. These guys were shooting with top-of-the-line Canon SLRs (1D, etc…) and posting scores of mediocre-to-bad photos of these cars on track every week. I have to assume (being charitable here) that the photographers need to do this in order to make sure that they’ve got a few sellable images of every car that raced in the event, since they’re trying to make money. I won’t lose any sleep if I come home with just a handful of great shots, but the professionals can’t be so blithe about it, I’d think. The fact that they all shoot this way means that consumers don’t really have any choice, so there’s a cartel-like protectionism functioning there (although I don’t want to imply that they’re doing this maliciously, or even consciously). My forum posts did get a fair amount of attention, though, and many people much preferred my slow-shutter panning shots to the stuff that the pros were posting every week. I tried to stay out of it, but there were some invidious comparisons drawn between them and me. It was interesting to see, at least, and something I didn’t expect to encounter when I peeked into this world for a few years. If you find yourself in central PA any time between March and October, get yourself to Williams Grove on a Friday or Lincoln on a Saturday. Buy a pit lane pass and get into the infield to get these great panning shots.

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