Turn around and look in the opposite direction. Life is 360.

We were shooting some lifestyle ads for one of Austin's luxury, high rise condominium projects when I stepped away from the camera to give my eyes and my brain a break.  We were shooting an aspirational ad with an "upscale, west Austin, soccer mom" (model) in her early 30's with a glass of wine in a "fabulous" kitchen, somewhere on the fifth floor.  All the appliances were Miele or nicer.  The wine chiller?  Sub-Zero.  The countertops?  Italian marble.  My attention span? Minimal.  When I stepped away from the camera the highly (over)attentive make-up person rushed in to touch up the model.  When my assistants saw me walk out onto the adjacent patio the smart one walked over to check the camera and the memory card, made sure the tether connection was still good and made eye contact with me to make sure there was nothing I wanted at the moment.  The other assistant grabbed at her cellphone like it was a life raft in the north Atlantic and instantly started texting.....

When I walked out onto the patio I noticed this red chair against the blue sky and the low, rushing clouds.  I walked back in and grabbed another camera out of my bag and snapped a few images.  A retouched version (remove plywood to the right of the chair) ended up in the property brochure.  I stood by the railing and watched the traffic below. 

A famous photographer wrote a series of tips in a 1952 Modern Photography Magazine that I came across in the Fine Arts Library at UT many years later.  His advice?  "Once you've covered what you think is your subject, turn around and look in the opposite direction.  You might find something fun there."  "Always shoot a version for yourself instead of just what the job calls for."  "Only eat steak when the client is paying for dinner."  "Don't let them rush you.  It takes as long as it takes to do it right." "How much light do you need?  Just enough to do it right.  Not a bit more."  And finally, "Tell them it has to be real champagne in the glass because the photo will show the difference...."  I guess the last tip was intended to keep the photo shoots fun.

The only tip I can offer is to make sure to prop the kitchen and dining rooms shots with stuff you and the crew will enjoy eating....  And that red chairs look cool against blue skies.

Practice. Play. Practice. Play.

Anybody who says they get their photographs just right every time they pick up their camera is lying.  I practice my craft as often as possible and nearly every time I photograph there are lots of things I wish I'd done better.  I wish my lighting always looked just right but it doesn't.  I wish I'd nailed the exposure in a different way.  I'm generally convinced that I stopped shooting just seconds before the best frame was about to transpire and I still feel, after 20 years of PhotoShop, that I'm just picking my way on an unmarked path thru post processing.

Poor Ben.  He's up early for cross country and he works hard at school.  Like most teenagers he's looking forward to a little break when he gets home from school.  Maybe a little couch time with a video game, his dog and a snack.  But it doesn't always work that way.  Sometimes when he gets home he gets pulled into the studio to sit in for a "test."  A test generally means one of two things.  Either I have a big shoot coming up and want to rehearse my stuff or I got some new gear and I need a victim to try it out on.  Sometimes it's a mix.

The portrait above wasn't lit right but it was important to me to try out the lighting and see what the result looked like on the same film I was considering shooting for a job.  By doing the test I understood that I wanted a softer main light, a lot less fill and a lower midrange value for my upcoming project.  And I wanted a different film.

While many believe you can save just about anything in post production I can't help but think that you can make images even better if you stick good stuff into PhotoShop to start with.  Silly?  Maybe.  But it's habit.

Fuji Neopan 400 (Switched to Tri-X for the job; liked the grain better....),  Camera: Rollei 6008i,  Lens: 150mm.  Lighting:  28 inch beauty dish on a Profoto Acute B head.

Just because this image wasn't perfect doesn't mean I consider it to be a total loss. As an 8x8 inch print one of the grandparents will love it.......and then ask my why it isn't in color...

Practice. Play. Practice. Play.

Anybody who says they get their photographs just right every time they pick up their camera is lying.  I practice my craft as often as possible and nearly every time I photograph there are lots of things I wish I'd done better.  I wish my lighting always looked just right but it doesn't.  I wish I'd nailed the exposure in a different way.  I'm generally convinced that I stopped shooting just seconds before the best frame was about to transpire and I still feel, after 20 years of PhotoShop, that I'm just picking my way on an unmarked path thru post processing.

Poor Ben.  He's up early for cross country and he works hard at school.  Like most teenagers he's looking forward to a little break when he gets home from school.  Maybe a little couch time with a video game, his dog and a snack.  But it doesn't always work that way.  Sometimes when he gets home he gets pulled into the studio to sit in for a "test."  A test generally means one of two things.  Either I have a big shoot coming up and want to rehearse my stuff or I got some new gear and I need a victim to try it out on.

Late afternoon and into the evening with two good friends and a Nikon V1.

My friends, Andy and Frank are photographers.  They are as interested in the art and craft as I am and they are quiet and fun to spend time with.  We decided to meet downtown at Medici Cafe late this afternoon and go for a walk, have a little dinner and spend some time playing with our "miniature" cameras.  I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to see how my new little Nikon handled low light so I stuck the 10mm to 30mm kit lens on the front, crammed the 10mm into my shirt pocket and ventured into the land of "no parking."

I thought I'd be early but the guys were already there.  They were both in an Olympus micro mood today.  Andy was sporting an EPL1 with a Panasonic 20mm and Frank brought along his EP3 and switched between his new 12mm and his 45mm 1.8.  No tripods.  No flashes.  No other stuff.

We headed for South Congress Avenue and we were reveling in the sweet light that skims across the lake just before sunset.  On the Congress Ave. bridge we met this "Occupy Austin" protester waving a flag and waving at cars.  He said he wanted to get away from the city hall crowd and do his own thing so....there he was.  We approached and asked if he would mind us photographing him.  He didn't mind in the least.

 As far as I can tell the Nikon focuses quickly and accurately. One thing I've noticed is that I like to dial down the exposure by one third to two thirds of a stop under the indicated values in order to get files I like.  In post processing I always add a little bit more black with a the black slider in Lightroom.  And I am likely to use the "punch" preset with some of the files as well.  It imparts a fun grittiness to the images.

When we first started out there was a strong wind and low clouds whipped through the late autumn sun like a slow motion movie effect.  

 Everywhere we turned in downtown the light and cloud mix created little dramas on the faces of the buildings.  We were shooting and walking.  Shooting and walking.  Pretty soon we got our cadence down and  were able to walk in some sort of coherent pattern.  I'd been looking forward to our walk because Andy has a style that is untainted by previous exposure to the traditions of heavy, film based photography.  He's a natural with the LCD screen on the back and consistently tells me not to depend on the viewfinder but to "use the force."  I wanted to open myself up to new ways of photographing and looking and so I was purposely studying his approach.  Using the live view on the back screen he would maintain a loose and fluid methodology, making little adjustments with his feet or the bend of his knees.  The live view allowed him to make almost unconscious corrections to exposure and shoot quickly.  I tried to follow his lead and not be as rigid as I know I am.  Too many rules in my brain.  Reminds me of my favorite bumper sticker about dogs:  "More wag, bark less."

 Another odd thing about this evening.  Usually when I'm in a crowd of photographers I'm the odd man out, shooting with a bag of single focal length lenses.  This evening I was the odd man out for shooting with the only zoom in the trio.  The 45mm 1.8 on the Pen EP3 is a wonderful combination....Must.....resist......buying.....temptation....

When I got back home I downloaded my files and started to edit them.  I saw several things.  The Nikon was a bit too warm in many of the downtown building files.  It may be that it was really accurate to the way the scene was being lit, a low, late sun is very warm.  But the scenes all looked better as I made the color bluer in my raw conversions.

The second thing I noticed is that the Nikon has a very fine, black pepper grain to images shot over 640 ISO.  It's not apparent until I zoom into 100% but it's there.  There is none of the chromatic noise that causes the color sparkles in older camera images.  And, even though this very sharp and monochromatic noise sneaks in it doesn't seem to affect the sharpness of the files.  I'll stand by my original observations and say that you are good using ISO's up to 800 without much restriction (DON'T underexpose) and, with care, at 1600.  3200 is reportage with the intention to convert to black and white.  Even the files at 250 ISO have a little bit of this black pepper noise but it's not at all intrusive and doesn't seem to effect the image at reasonable print sizes.

Shooting in a group, no matter how small, always entails a bit of compromise but tonight was smooth.  One of us would linger behind to explore a reflection or something in a shop window and would catch up.  One person would find an interesting subject and go off on a tangent.  And we'd all come back together again, minutes later and compare notes.  I like to see how people photograph.  We're all so different.  Since we weren't lighting or directing each shot came and went quickly.

This is a close up of the forearm of the protester on the bridge.  That is not a temporary tattoo.  It's the real deal.  Still fresh and red around the edges.  He had other interesting tattoos as well.  If you want to shoot something specific sometimes you just have to ask.....

As we headed south on the bridge I turned around to snap a few images of the downtown skyline.  Austin has changed so much in the last five years.  Our downtown has been totally revitalized and is now the interesting place to be.  Many of the new skyscrapers are resident towers and I look forward to a time when we have a real, 24/7 downtown to move through.  The one thing we lack right now is a good number of 24 hour restaurants....

As we worked our way toward the food trailers I found myself falling into the familiar pattern of looking for familiar patterns.  The Nikon EVF is a perfectly suited for the process of grabbing graphic nibblets.  You see, essentially, the finished photo as you are previsualizing it and visualizing it on the screen.  It's kind of like seeing the future and the present simultaneously.

But I have to consistently practice my people engagement skills even if I flub the technical stuff.  The camera might be up for 1/8th second exposures but I'm not sure I am and I'm pretty sure this couple was moving a bit as well.  (Lit with very, very low incandescent lighting coming through a shop window.)

I photographed this flower/vase because I liked the combination of textures but when I developed the image in Lightroom I liked it more as an example of the graceful highlight transitions I could see in the different tones on the white ceramic.

The combination of streetlights and the afterglow of sunset makes for wonderful color contrasts.  I wish the skies would hang there, in this balance, for hours everyday.  As it is you have only glancing opportunities to catch a perfect balance and then it's gone.  Makes for a bit of a challenge.

I can't speak for the other guys but for me this was a welcome photographic vacation from my long day of photography related stuff in the studio.  One of the banes of modern commercial photography is the long hours spent in front of a monitor doing things like, clipping paths, black and white conversions and fine tuning large files destined for print.  I spent hours this morning taking 40 megapixel raw files, converting them into beautiful color files, making masks to drop out backgrounds while leaving wisps of hair intact and then uploading nearly a gigabyte of files to my client's FTP server.  Once you add in following up on some billing and putting together a few bids you find that you've spent the bulk of the day in a chair at a desk.  Which is decidedly not what I really signed up for in the beginning of this whole photography lifestyle thing.  But it's cathartic to get out as the light changes and the wind changes and walk down a busy street with the wonderful feel of a camera in your hand.  And even if you come back without any images you want to show to anyone else you know you've spent time well.  

I must confess that the photo above and the photo below were intentionally shot into light sources to see if the Nikon could be coaxed into showing off "red dot syndrome."   I think the camera passed this test well but I offer no guarantees for people who want to include the sun in their frames.  I do love the mix of street lights and ropes of bulbs against an evening sky.

We stopped at the end of our route and ate a jovial dinner at a fish taco restaurant.  We talked about cameras and we talked about life, and our plans for the holidays.  It was a simple moment but one without a care in the world.  And that's a rare thing to be able to say these days.  Our intention from the beginning was to walk.  Everything else would be whipped creme on top of the sundae.

This shop on south Congress Ave. had a display of old cameras.  35mm and other odd formats from the 1940's and 1950's.  The coolest thing I saw in the shop was this giant camera.  Every once in a while the flash bulb would light up.  The rubber ducks were a nice counterpoint.......

We wound up back where we started and we sat at the bar and watched people and talked to each other, and to the baristas.  In one of those, "Only in Austin" moments we were informed that salsa dance classes would be starting, in the coffee shop, in "just a few minutes."  When we left the salsa was already in progress and Austinites in black t-shirts with band logos on the front were dipping and dancing with women in skirts.  We each shook hands and headed off to find our cars and return to our homes.  I felt like a tourist in my own town.  And it was good.  There are always more attractions to see.  And the price is just right.

Funny to write about my adventures with the little Nikon.  Yesterday I was shooting portraits on black and white film with my Hasselblad and the 150mm lens.  The day before I was shooting still life with the Canon 1DS mk2 and a 90mm macro lens.  I guess I'm just destined to shoot "all over the map." But it sure keeps my job AND my hobby fresh.  

By the way, our protester with the "Occupy Austin" tattoo also sported this one.  I was thinking of getting one like this myself.  But my friends convinced me I should get a Leica tattoo instead.  I'm still pondering.   :- )

Final report on the Nikon:  I like it.  It's sharp.  It's no more or less infallible then any other comparable camera.  It does nice detail and has good color.  It's fast.  It's light and small and I can carry it all evening without a thought.  In all I think Nikon should do well with the new format.  It might not be the camera for you but.......it's not a bad camera.

Talented Reader Spot Light. Tripod Strap.

I'm so over black.  And I'm tired of synthetic everything.  I guess you can see that when you see the tripod I use for my work.  It's one of my two Berlebach tripods, handmade in Germany from aged Maple.  I take my tripod everywhere and consider it VR/IS on steroids.  Recently a VSL reader named Gordy, noticed my affection for old tech stabilization and wrote to ask me if I'd like a tripod strap to go with it.  I accepted.

I'd never really carried a tripod with a strap before but I thought I'd give it a try.  I like it a lot.  It's snug on my shoulder and frees up my right hand, which used to bear the burden of the tripod as I tromped along to a job site.  But most of all, I like the aesthetics.  The leather is thick and gives the impression that it'll supply years of service.  I carry it so the tripod hangs horizontally.

In the interests of total disclosure I must say that Gordy sent me the strap as a gift.  He did not ask me to write this but I wanted to after having used the strap for a week.  It's a niche product that feels both retro and useful.  I'm putting the link to Gordy's strap site in case you want a non-traditional (or should I say previously traditional?) camera or tripod strap.

Gordy is smart.  He hooked me by sending the first one for free.  Now I've been back to the site several times and I'm in the process of deciding which straps I need for a few new cameras.  I just can't stand the promotional straps that come in the boxes with the new cameras.......

http://www.gordyscamerastraps.com/index.htm

Talented Reader Spot Light. Tripod Strap.

I'm so over black.  And I'm tired of synthetic everything.  I guess you can see that when you see the tripod I use for my work.  It's one of two Berlebach tripods, handmade in Germany from aged Maple.  I take my tripod everywhere and consider it VR/IS on steroids.  Recently a VSL reader named, Gordy, noticed my affection for old tech stabilization and wrote to ask me if I'd like a tripod strap to go with it.  I accepted.

I'd never really carried a tripod with a strap before but I thought I'd give it a try.  I like it a lot.  It's snug on my shoulder and frees up my right hand, which used to bear the burden of the tripod as I tromped along to a job site.  But most of all, I like the aesthetics.  The leather is thick and gives the impression that it'll supply years of service.

In the interests of total disclosure I must say that Gordy sent me the strap as a gift.  He did not ask me to write this but I wanted to after having used the strap for a week.  It's a niche product that feels both retro and useful.  I'm putting the link to Gordy's strap site in case you want a non-traditional (or should I say previously traditional?) camera or tripod strap.

Gordy is smart.  He hooked me by sending the first one for free.  Now I've been back to the site several times and I'm in the process of deciding which straps I need for a few new cameras.  I just can't stand the promotional straps that come in the boxes with the new cameras.......

Ginger Rogers had to do everything Fred Astaire did only backwards and in heels.....

I laugh and shake my head when I hear about photographers who can't function without "fast" autofocus, total exposure automation and instant chimp-o-metric confirmation at all times.  It's painful to hear about professionals who can't cope with composition if they don't have a zoom lens on the front of their camera. I laugh derisively at people who think modern day "flash-ists"  invented basic techniques like balancing flash with ambient exposure or using back light.  And I especially "thumb my nose" at photographers who feel the need to travel with a big, pouty, noisy entourage.  Who the hell needs all those people around them these days?

I'm shooting some people in my studio tomorrow and I generally use that as an excuse to do some major cleaning up.  I've wiped away the stacks of stands and piles of power packs that were brought home and tossed into the corner after last week's long flurry of location photography.  I was going through a filing cabinet drawing, tossing out mementos of yesteryear in order to make room for future junk when I came across a contact sheet and a page of negatives.  Big, juicy, medium format color negatives.  ISO 100 Fuji Reala negatives, to be exact.  I remembered this shoot with my assistant, Anne.  We were setting up to do shots of Dell executives in various locations around their beautiful executive briefing center.

So I thought I'd pop a negative in the desktop scanner and see what it all looked like back then.  This was old school photography all the way.  Our assignment was to find five or six fun locations and then guide our executive thru each location in order to build a catalog of public relations shots the company could use for the next two years.  Anne was standing in for a test shot.  She's holding our medium format camera with a Polaroid test back on it.

Anne and I met at the studio in the dark part of the morning  to pack and get on the road to Round Rock.  That's where Dell's main offices are.  We carried along a Bronica SQai System which was a fun and inexpensive (by comparative standards) knock off of the venerable Hasselblad 500 series.  The system entailed three bodies,  waist level finders and hoods,  lenses from 50mm to 200mm, and eight 120 film backs.  We also carried a Polaroid back and a couple boxes of 100 ISO speed, black and white test film.  We used black and white for several reasons:  1.  It was a better match, tonally and exposure wise with the Fuji Reala film than was the color-roid.  2.  It was quicker to process.  Ready in 30 seconds under most temperatures.  3. It didn't generate discussions with clients about color.  Many a working photographer will tell you stories of hours spent fine tuning the color on the Polaroid tests they were shooting, in order to please the client, only to have the color be nowhere close on the film.  We pretty much knew what we were doing back then with light meters and such so the color part of the Polaroid wasn't very necessary.  Why open up a big can of worms if you don't need to?

We packed three or four Profoto monolights, with (OMG) optical slaves, and an equal number of stands and reflectors.  We also packed large and small soft boxes, some flags to flag off spill and a bunch of odds and ends.  In fact, we took everything we thought we might need if it would fit on our cart.  And a lot of stuff did.

Our basic modus operandi was to walk through the entire location first and make little sketches in a notebook about which sites and which angles we thought would work best.  Then we returned to site one and started setting up.  First thing is to find your angle and establish the subject/background relationship you want.  More important than anything else.  Once we had the lens, distance from camera to subject and subject to background figured out we'd start to light.  My first step is to light the background or, in the case of the image above, to see how we'd use the cool light already existing in the scene.  I metered the background and established a base exposure for that.  From memory I'd say we were looking at f8 at around 1/15th of a second with the ISO 100 film.  Next step is to figure out how to light the subject.  We went with a small (32 inch) umbrella with a black backing used to right of our subject.  A white reflector, used close in, provides fill from the other side.  Our final light is a small flash ( probably a Metz ) dialed way down and used on a stand right behind Anne's head.  Only when we had moved all of the lighting components into place and had metered them with an incident light meter did we pop our first Polaroid.  Why not pop one at every step?  Easy, they cost about $2.50 each to shoot at the time and I'd rather do the technical stuff with a bit a of rigor and pocket the money we'd waste on iterative and unnecessary tests.

At this point we'd bring the client into the mix (they generally sat in one of the conference rooms during our quick set ups and caught up on work...), snap one more Polaroid and then work through two whole rolls of film.  A whopping 24 frames.  Sometimes, when we were running low on film we'd call it a wrap in twelve shots.  Confidence in your own technique was a requirement back then.  There weren't many other alternatives.

Once we got what we needed we'd talk to the client about how long it would take to do the next set up and where we would rendezvous.  Then Anne and I would label the film from the location, bag it with the relevant polaroids and move on.  At the end of the shoot we'd divide the film up into two batches.  One roll from each set up.  Then we'd have the lab run one batch, and then the other.  This was like cheap insurance that let us know we'd know that, even in the face of abject lab failure, we'd have one roll of images to fall back on.  For the most part the labs never failed (except on one of my biggest assignments on 4x5 sheet film for IBM.....but that's another story...).

The role of the assistant on shoots like this was more involved than it is today.  They'd be responsible for labeling and keeping track of the film.  They'd pack it, load it, unload it, label it, bag it and keep track of it at all times.  We trusted our meters back then and the assistant had a meter as well as the photographer.  I could stand at camera position, pop a light, and depend on my assist to meter the pop from the right position, holding the meter in the right spot and then jotting down the readings in a little notebook in case we changed cameras and lenses and needed to go back to our reference exposure.

On shoots where we shot lots of images loading film backs on demand, always correctly, was a skill in demand.  When we got back home we'd unpack and the assistant would take the two batches of film to the lab and give them any necessary instructions.

I use assistants far less often for interior shoots these days.  And usually it's in the capacity of setting up and tearing down lights.  There's very little else productive for them to do while we're shooting.  My current assistant sometimes operates more as a producer, lining up models, getting props and figuring out logistics.  As we relentlessly downsize both the type and quantity of gear (and the budgets) the rationale for using assistants on a frequent basis also shrinks.  On outdoor shoots you need a good assistant (if you are lighting) to keep the light stands up in the wind and to carry the sandbags to the location from the car.  It's also good to have an extra set of eyes on the gear when out with the public....

Well, that's all I really had to say.  I was just struck, when I saw these photos, with the memory of how much work and skill it used to take to do a shoot versus what is required now.  I recently did a hospital shoot and mostly used a Canon 5Dmk2.  Our most rigorous lighting challenges were easily handled by a clean ISO 800 or 1600 and a little foundational supplementation with a small, TTL cabled flash.  Our value add had nothing to do with technical stuff and everything to do with directing and building quick and effective rapport.  That and seeing the right angles, composition and gesture.

When people talk about the challenges of photography today, as they relate to technique, I just roll my eyes and think of the quote about Ginger Rogers.  That's probably why so many older photographers are a bit resentful about having learned so much good stuff in their careers. Stuff that is being tossed by the wayside.  We'd like to be able to show off just how elegantly we could dance backwards with a view camera......

You're only as good as your last job...

The universe is a tricky place and plays by a different set of rules than transient beings like us would like.  I had coffee recently (when do I not have coffee??) with a very famous photographer who was bemoaning the fact that his work had gone from super-renumerative-award-winning-globe-spanning to zilch in an arc of about five years.  And he couldn't figure it out.  We talked about market changes, the death of magazines (we both cut our teeth in the heyday of editorial work), the move to a more and more granular set of markets and age-ism (the ebola virus in the room).

But as we picked our way through the seemingly chaotic vagaries of happenstance we both saw a pattern emerge.  We'd been resting on our laurels.  We thought that a great project, done for a "show" client would have infinite legs.  That, say, a cover of the New York Times magazine would be a client magnet for years to come.  Or that a bestselling book would cement business relationships, down stream.  I'm consistently guilty of presuming that local clients know my long history in the market and that it must provide for some future business traction.  

 It's rough when you hit the wall of reality and have to confront the fact that.......you are only as good as your last job.  And that everything technical you've learned over the years is losing value faster than your dollars.....

In swimming, competitors can brag and trash talk and walk through memory lane to their heart's desire but the real test, the only test, is that time on the clock and who touches the wall first.  Nothing else matters.  You can carry your old wins gracefully but they won't help you in this race.  They won't give you anything more than a psychological advantage.  Mythology doesn't trump "now."

When we have been in the business (or the craft) for a long time we have a tendency to believe that the things we were taught and the "best practices" techniques that we embraced are both objective and right. Above opinion and obvious.  But every new style is, de facto, a destructive technology whose sole intention is to kill off the status quo.  That's the nature of art, life and business.  We can admire what came before but we achieve by inventing the new. 

I am hardly above reproach and never infallible.  I had (have) a knee jerk reaction to everything new that comes slamming down onto the photographic pike.  I hate HDR.  I loathe all the silliness of iPhone-o-graphy and above all I wish I could freeze the market and the prevailing aesthetic right at 1995.  I was pretty good at that style and comfortably understood the business....

But had I stopped there I would long since have migrated into a less.....kinetic.....industry.  The fact is, I am only as relevant to clients as my last job and my last portfolio show and (here comes the coup de grace) and showing my greatest hits from yesteryear only reinforces, to potential clients that I am frozen in amber and not swimming at pace through the stream of current commerce and style.  Without constant course correction we might as well swim to the side and exit.  They may admire my old work but it may have no relevance to the projects in front of them today.

I am not saying anyone needs to abandon their core style or walk away from decades of experience but I am saying that it needs to be incorporated into an ongoing journey of discovery which includes shooting for  oneself, trying new technologies and showing new work.  Even if the work is in a style you've done forever there is a resonance that emerges which communicates the freshness.  We can never step in the water in exactly the same way we did the day before.  Life continually changes us and you can't help but reflect those changes in your current work.  It's not important to be trendy.  It's important to let the comtemporary "you" seep into your work and the only way you can do that is to work contemporaneously. 

My readers here don't need to be reminded that I pick up new cameras all the time.  Part of it is the barely subjugated hope that the new gear will deliver the power of a cult talisman and improve my work by its magic, but another part is my belief that technology and aesthetics are joined at the hip and move in a staggered lock step.  I've talked lately about "fluid or fluent" photography by which I mean that the technology and the interface of your chosen camera doesn't interfere with your seeing.  That it regresses and becomes automatic.  That's the promise of many of the new, smaller cameras.  You look at the screen on the back (or in the EVF finder) and see the image already brocaded and prepared.  Previsualized, if you will, for you, by the machine.  All that's required is selection and timing.

In a way, fluid practice is Zen practice, is mindful practice, is stream of consciousness practice.  It precludes setting things up.  It precludes the disruption to the creative process by affectation.  It is negated by spending time setting up strobes.  It's a direct reaction to the scene in front of you or the scene in which you also exist as a player.  The 2006-2010 small strobe fascination,  was a style.  It was a manifesto.  And now it's old fart.  The techniques of HDR will be incorporated into the tool kit of photographers but, as a recognizable style, it will join the ring flash and colored filter gels on the scrapheap of photo-art-history.  The current technique of using small cameras and fast lenses, and moving and responding rapidly will also cycle through.  But it will be the prevailing style for a while.  And then it will killed off by the next disruption.

This doesn't mean that older styles don't soldier on like Zombies on the Night of the Living Dead, fashion isn't instantaneous, globally.  But you can already see the sea changes.  Scott Bourne is all feverish about shooting portraits in the studio with, gasp! an Olympus Pen camera!!!!! Thom Hogan (the big Nikon guy) declares his love for the Pens. Every guy I know is rushing to buy a Fuji x10 or x100 or the Nikon or the Panasonic mirrorless camera of choice.  Images are starting to crop up all over the place shot in the new ethos.  Camera Minimalism is rampant...

And it's all part of the process.  But you need to swim your own race.  Training methods change.  The hard work doesn't.  And the hard work has always been the incorporation of change into your own art.

Finally, to all the people who will rush in and talk about the sanctity of style I can only offer up Picasso.  He mastered seven distinct and wonderfully different styles over the course of his career and was prolific.  More work.  Less resting on our laurels.  More output and more change.  Less talk about how we did it in the old days.  Not discounting the art but no one can live on laurel leaves....

Our existence always hinges on our ability to change....well.

note:  I like this blog: http://mftadventures.blogspot.com/  it's called "High Fidelity Compacts."  It's well written and thoughtful.  Most cogent for people who are interested in smaller cameras.  Nice.

another note:  I laughed so hard I almost spilled my coffee....  On some comment stream someone was taking me to task for saying nice things about the Nikon on my blog.  Someone else responded that my blog was there to sell mountains of my books and also for my commercial photography clients.  I'm still waiting for the mountain of book sales but I hope to God my clients don't read the VSL blog.  I'm not always kind here....

Post edited. 11/17.