Ann-alog, a Pixel Remix, where Ann Torrence blogs about photographing for a book on U.S. Highway 89, the greatest road trip route in America. Photography tips, locations, trip reports, and real life.

Balanced Rock sunset

The real problem with the Moab Photo Symposium was that there simply was not enough time to do everything. I told the organizer, Bruce Hucko, that I wanted an "E" ticket to the party since I'd not been before, and even then, I missed out on way too much. I could have happily gone to every workshop, photographed at every sunrise and sunset.

The theme was "Bodies of Work, Bodies at Work" and we saw some fascinating projects- I especially enjoyed learning about Chris Conrad's night photography and ViviAnn Rose's hand-colored nudes. David Hiser, Jeff Foott and Tom Till gave three very different presentations on the life of a world-traveling photographer; Foott's talk illustrated the kinds of photos needed to illustrate an editorial piece, which was deeply interesting as I envision telling the Highway 89 story. It was interesting to hear three old-school film guys talk about their digital experiences, especially Till, who has been enjoying shooting with a DSLR after years of lugging around a 4x5 camera. Rory Tyler showed us petroglyphs he discovered-rarely do I meet someone with such a depth of passion for any topic as Rory has for rock art, not just of the southwest, but world-wide. Steve Traut made us all laugh, and I hope to see his work in Grand Junction sometime. I didn't get a chance to talk to Adriel Heisey until Sunday, which was a mistake because we have a lot of territory to discuss. His aerial work is tops. And I'm still pondering Brian Parkin's thoughts on working with galleries and how it applies to my work.

So I didn't get to go on up for any dawn shoots. The first day I was still practicing the first ten minutes of my talk; then I was scouting for my workshop. Not enough time! That's why I've already agreed to go back next year. Hope to see you there.

Three separate shots with filtration as labeled, camera mounted firmly on tripod (click image to enlarge)

Two early morning trips to Temple Square, including our first "impromptu" Photowalk (yay Harley and Aaron for braving the alarm clock) have yielded some interesting data, if not pictures. Actually, some fine photos were made, but today's images belong more in the data category.

I've used the Cokin 840 Diffuser filter in the past as a remixing layer with some success (It's one layer in this Temple Square image, for example). In putting together this weekend's workshop for the Moab Photo Symposium, I acquired several new tricks for my bag, including one of Cokin's Pastel 087 filters. My group will be doing a Photowalk-esque walkabout during the workshop, and won't lack for photographic esoterica to experiment with.

The pictures on Cokin's site and printed materials don't real serve to show how different these two filters really are. The plain version was shot at f8.0 1/320th sec at ISO200, both of the filtered images at 1/200th sec. I'm not sure pastel is the right word for the 087 filter. It's more like "smear the light around and kill the contrast," which probably wouldn't translate to French very well. I made some images in the shade. Here the differences aren't nearly as striking.

Two separate shots with filtration as labeled, camera mounted firmly on tripod (click image to enlarge)

I haven't had a chance yet to see how the 087 works in night scenes. I'm usually not a fan of heavily diffused portraiture, but I think I'll do the experiment. I am always much happier working with data than lore.

A fun part of these effects is that the gear is (relatively) inexpensive and lightweight. You can get the basics at any decent camera shop. The retail shops aren't likely to have everything in the Cokin catalog; I bought some of the more obscure ones from the Filter Connection. I've even outfitted my Canon G9 with a LensMate filter mount, which can mount a Cokin filter holder. Now I don't have to hold the filters up to the lens, which is not exactly admirable technique, though it did work in a pinch.

The Pastel 2 087 has earned a spot in my camera bag, although it must keep company with two more new acquisitions I'll post about soon. What's your most unusual filter/gear in yours?

Bronc rider at North American Indian Days 2007, Browning, Montana

I once read an article (source forgotten, probably Birding) about a teacher preparing her preschoolers for an outing to the local aviary. Long before the field trip, each kid was equipped with a pair of binoculars (two toilet paper tubes taped together and a yarn neckstrap). As the students lay on the floor, she had them practice tracking birds with the binoculars by zipping a tissue-paper bird along a string suspended above the classroom. When the kids got to the aviary, they paid attention to the birds the teacher pointed out to them. Impressive results for zero optical elements in the binoculars and the native focusing ability of four year olds.

If looking through a cardboard tube changes the participatory experience for preschoolers, how does observing events through the viewfinder of my camera impact my own experience of the event itself? This question has been on my mind a lot as I have been collating images for my talk at the Moab Photo Symposium. I didn't need my archives to remind me of the extraordinary experiences my Highway 89 project has afforded me. But at the same time, I wonder what part of the experience of being there I may have missed through the crystal veil of the lens.

Photographing can give me a shot of courage (I forget to be afraid of flying when I'm shooting out the window, even if the pictures are useless) or serve as a convenient prop in an awkward moment (as official family reunion photographer you can escape boring conversations with distant relations). Mostly, the act of photographing has given me the license and spunk to push to the front of the action with brashness that surprises even me.

But the act of photographing has never been neutral to my experience at hand. Framing, composing, creating engages a different set of neurons than just observing. I've written before that I become strangely unverbal while shooting. Even more peculiar, I can stand in the cold for hours and not really feel it until after the gear is put up and I start to get warm, long after R has taken refuge in the truck, which is completely the opposite of our regular patterns, say when birding. If the act of creating impacts this basic brain processing, I can only assume that other parts of the perceptual experiences change. I wouldn't agree that my perception degrades, but it is different than when I set down the camera.

The thing is, I want it all: the photos and the raw, unfiltered experience. Sadly, I haven't perfected my avatar such that I might do two things at once, so I make choices, compromises. Simply training myself to photograph with both eyes open has helped me to stay tune with essence of the total experience. And when I am lucky enough to photograph a singular event (like the Indian Rodeo at North American Indian Days in Browning, Montana), I remind myself take a moment to lower the camera from my eye, to drop the crystal veil. Inhale the experience: smells, sounds, fill all the senses. Engage with my fellow participants, smile, laugh together. Just be present. Breathe. And then back to dance with the Nikon that brung me.

Balanced Rock, Arches National Park, Utah

I haven't been to Moab in almost two years, mostly because it's not on U.S. 89. But come 1 May, I will make a detour for the Moab Photo Symposium. Bruce Hucko, the symposium organizer, asked me to talk about my Highway 89 project. I'm also giving a workshop on some fun and fab techniques that use Photoshop's layer blending options and modes, like this line drawing effect I layered over an image dating back to 2006.

It's an honor to be on the same schedule as the other presenters: Victor Beer, Bill Crnkovich, Chris Conrad, Jeff Foott, Adriel Heisey, Dave Hiser, Bruce Hucko, Brian Parkin, ViviAnn Rose, Tom Till and Steve Traudt. The symposium runs from May 1 to 4. That's four days in Moab to make photos and friends - it will be a blast. Hope you can join us!

Maple leaf on red rock, Zion National Park (Canon G9, raw file interpreted in Adobe Lightroom)

For almost two weeks, I have been toiling away with exploring Adobe Lightroom. I have accomplished a few actual tasks with it, like opening RAW files from the G9, like the one above, but mostly I have been studying the software, and planning/prepping for the big task ahead.

The Summit Electric sign on 4th South, Salt Lake City

I finished an important deadline-driven project yesterday, felt like the guy in the Bose commercial, blown back in my chair from the effort. So today I did one hundred little tasks, mostly readying my system for the Adobe Lightroom switch-over by transferring files to my back-up drive and extra DVD copies. I burned at least 15 DVDs today, maybe 20, all raw capture files.

Apple's Time Machine cannot hit my doorstep soon enough. Or else it's going to be a rack of swappable drives. I have been uncharacteristically hygienic about my file organization, and I can find stuff, but too many LaCies slow down the system, and I just filled another 500 GB unit. I'm going to try to hold out for the Time Machine by shifting some stuff around, but I need to be at the front of the line when Apple releases them to the world. Somehow, I don't see an Apple store overnight party like the IPhone though. Or that the mad rush will take out Apple's on-line store like happened when R ordered his MacBook Air on Tuesday.

As for my file system, I can find stuff, if I remember that it exists. My upcoming keywording project is looking like it will be time-consuming AND worth my time investment. I didn't exactly forget that I shot this, but then I shot other stuff and then I moved on. Moving on isn't forgetting, really.

In between burning 15-20 DVDs, you can clean the house; finish, hand wash and block a sweater; reorganize your bookshelves and the yarn you bought at Christmas and on Monday; wrangle some electrical subcontractors; do some laundry; repair stuff with Superglue and generally knock back dozens of little annoyances. It's a suggestion from the GTD book, just doing stuff that takes under 2 minutes, rather than adding it to a to-do list, that really works for me. Because once done, these tasks can now be forgotten, really. Deleted from the mental hard drive, like some photos I'd rather not talk about.

We were discussing the MacGuyvering of photo gear on the PhotowalkingSLC Flickr site today, which reminded me that I had rediscovered this pair of photos. The location is the Big Bend pull-out in Zion canyon. It was mid-afternoon on Halloween, with the sun pretty low and directly in front of me. The Virgin River flowed between the road and the deeply shaded canyon wall. Crossing the river wouldn't work; it would be too low because I wanted to keep the image plane parallel to the wall. There was absolutely no wind, but the sun was giving me fits with the glare.

I needed the mother of all lens hoods. Luckily, my location was close to the parking lot, and I rummaged through the truck for something to shade the lens.

Repeating to myself: "it doesn't matter what it looks like if it's outside the image frame," I grabbed the one thing that seemed workable.

Bill Johnson's Big Apple restaurant

We returned to Salt Lake to find the front of our palace draped in plastic in an attempt for the remodel to proceed despite the weather. Two electric space heaters running all night added a grand 5 degrees above the ambient 17°F; the propane torches they guys rented the next morning were much more effective.

The space heaters, regrettably, run on the same circuit as my computer. Before the electricians sputtered in disbelief and took decisive, mission-creeping action, my computer, my office space heater, our freezer, porch lights and furnace were all on the same circuit. We discovered this fact when a compressor and power hammer added to the line tripped the breaker. Now the furnace has its own circuit. But my computer popped off three times before I unplugged the space heaters. The contractor and I reached a consensus that 5 degrees really wasn't worth the bother.

Before we left Phoenix, I hunted down some more neon. There are actually two Bill Johnson's Big Apple restaurants; this is the Van Buren location. The sunset colors started to develop nicely. The only problem was that the sign wasn't lit. So I went inside and asked, "what time does the sign come on?" and the manager blinked, said, "when I switch it," and did just that. If nothing else, photography has emboldened me to ask silly questions, often with great success in response.

It's a small thing, to step up and ask for help, but fear is such a huge barrier in art-making that any small victory is worth celebrating.

What separates artists from ex-artists is that those who challenge their fears, continue; those who don't quit. Each step in the artmaking process puts that issue to the test.

- from Art and Fear by David Bayles and Ted Orland

The book's discussion about making pictures, lots of them, in order to be able to make the pictures only I can make, has helped me rebound from innumerable failures and discouragements. It might be the best $10 I ever spent on photography.

A Textorizer self-portrait

When I decided to really learn photography, I sat down and studied. I shot a lot of film, but also I read a lot of books. And practiced my Photoshop chops. I spent the three months in New Zealand cozied up with Martin Evening's Adobe Photoshop for Photographers (now updated for CS3), a laptop, and some sample images. My foundational knowledge is strong.

Not so my programming skills. I've never quite caught the desire to learn the fundamentals, but I want to make stuff work the way I want it to work when I want it. AKA dive right, damn the torpedos. Which is probably twice as hard, but in this instance, I prevailed.

Cold but willing subjects (f8, 1.0 sec, ISO 400, Noise Ninja)

R's side of the family sent its delegation for Thanksgiving, and we trundled them off to Temple Square to see the lights on Friday. Despite the cold, they were willing to pose for a few photos.

Wedding mehndi in black and white

Mehndi images have been very popular in searches of my site of late, especially from google.co.uk. Here's the color version of same image. Let me tell you, the hot gold, magenta robes, and brown tones of the mehndi itself sent me deep into the toolbox to get this B&W conversion to look right.

This morning, I had a moment where I questioned my assertion in yesterday's post - do I really know a dozen ways to convert from color to black and white? I don't usually exaggerate my knowledge, but I hadn't really counted. So this morning, in between more conversions, I started a list:

Santa cruising Route 66/US 89

I spent the better part of today making B&W conversions of some Highway 89 project photos. Usually I start by inspecting each color channel in my image for clues on how a particular image will convert. This preview works much better if you unclick the preference to display the channels in color (in CS2 for Mac that's in the Display and Cursors preference panel.) Then I use a channel mixer adjustment layer in Photoshop, starting with settings around 60% red, 30% green, 10% blue and checking the monochrome box. Sometimes my preview of the channels will suggest different starting numbers, even 100% from one channel only. I try to make the percentages add up to around 100%, but I'm not dogmatically exact on that nuance.

Once in a while, an image that looks great in color just won't translate directly into a look I want. Then I will start all over with the original raw file. I'll change the color temperature sliders, open it as a new file, and apply the channel mixer adjustment layer to that. Less desirable, because now I've got to reinspect for dust, copy local adjustments from the color to the B&W file, but sometimes, that's what has to be done.

Now as self-proclaimed queen of Photoshop, I could probably list a dozen ways to get from color to B&W, but we humans tend to repeat behaviors if they generate results without too much pain. Possibly because I was bored with correlating the sliders in the channel mixer palette to the results in the histogram palette, possibly because my machine was bogging down with a huge file I needed open at the same time, I reached into toolkit for something different. In the Adobe Camera Raw dialog, I dragged the saturation slider to zero, and then played with the color temperature sliders until I liked the results. The technique relies on the same principle of blending color channels, just applied in different interface-one with the histogram front and center. I liked that.

If I had been really efficient, I would have recorded an action in Photoshop to apply a channel mixer layer preloaded with the 60/30/10 percentages along with a color balance layer I used for toning, bundled tidily into a layer group with a pithy title like "B&W", but I couldn't be bothered. Instead, I opened a blank 10x10 pixel file, and dragged into it the B&W adjustment group from a conversion I'd done earlier in the week. That's only a 300 byte image. Could have made it a 1x1 pixel, 3 byte image, but I wanted a target on the screen that I could see. So long as you aren't using masks, any sized image can work as a temporary parking place for an adjustment layer.

It's a little early for Santa Claus, but since Rich's cute post has crossed that pre-Thanksgiving barrier to Christmas-themed posts, I thought I'd give you this one. Besides, my Santa's in a 4th of July parade. He's apparently a year-round guy, that Mr. Claus. Riding a pretty mean cherry red trike, too.

Latte Remix

Remember the perfect latte I photographed in February? The long-promised remix is done. Seven months of pondering, one complete do-over, and four minor revisions to reach this happy conclusion to a project.

Downtown dining, Salt Lake City

I read an article years ago in Outdoor Photographer about using a diffusion filter+warming filter+high ISO to get an interesting look for mid-day photography. Might have been a Bob Krist article, seems like the examples were from an Italy trip. The effect was sort of grainy, journalistic, but in color. I've adapted the technique for a night look I like, particulary in scenes with a lot of low-level point sources. Think Christmas lights. This D70 image was hand-held, high ISO, with a Cokin diffusion filter, and was one of my favorite images from the 2005 holiday season. I did some similar stuff last week on Photowalk. There are all sorts of DIY diffusion filter ideas out there, like old pantyhose or vaseline on an old haze filter, but yuck, who wants to carry grease in the camera bag? That's asking for a mess. This plastic rectangle comes in a nice little plastic box, can carry it around in my pocket even when I'm going light, just for effect. It can be pretty fun, once I get past the idea of taking thousands of dollars of optics out and purposely blurring that crisp image. A lot of fun, in fact.

ArtSpace entry during Gallery Stroll

Bryan and Scott covered the who-what-when-where of photowalking last Friday night. I for one was very happy about the weather. Check out the Flickr pool for more shots. What I want to talk about is first impressions on my new Canon G9.

Does anyone besides me shut down the verbal brain when making pictures?

Ctein talks about a mental on-switch in The Online Photographer, and I know just what he means. He says:

But time and again, I discover (generally in an embarrassing lapse of social custom) that I cannot speak coherently while shooting. Don't ask me anything more complicated than "what time is it?" if I'm composing. Words don't form, much less sentences. I can barely name the thing I want out of my bag. Appparently, I can visualize and verbalize, but not at the same time. Step back from the tripod and mentally refocus a second, and I'm back to a functioning member of society. I can switch, but not multitask. The one exception is interacting with a subject, which requires an order of magnitude more mental energy. I've watched and admired other photographers who can carry on a conversation with by-standers while shooting, but it's just not in my skill set. Odd, but not a problem, so long as I remember it's normal for me. Own it, use it and move on.

I photograph precisely because I like the perceptual shifts I experience in the visualization process. It's good exercise to stay in "on-mode" even when the camera is in the bag. Visualizing while sorting laundry, or getting soda at 7-11. Kind of like other forms of exercise. I know it's good for me, and I should do more of it. The camera allows/encourages/forces a new way of seeing, but it's not essential, any more than a poet needs a pen to craft a poem. It helps though.

Part of the cow crowd

I should put this in the category, "completely unready to make a photograph" because when we were driving north toward Montpelier, ID, a) my camera was not accessible, and b) I wasn't anticipating the chance for a shot. I have sheep being herded down Highway 89, but not cows. I would have liked a better shot for completeness.

My cameras don't make pictures, I do. But only if I get them out, get myself out, and push the button. Another camera in the arsenal won't make the slightest bit of difference to my productivity if it sits in the drawer. But I am in the wants (badly) for that new Canon G9...

My pilot (that's a fun phrase to type!) called. It looks dicey for Friday, so I may be able to go to the first SLC Photowalk after all. If your camera is spending too much time alone in its case, maybe you'll join us.

P.S. Who knew that cows had freckles?

Jaquee takes her first steps into the circle of marriage

After exchanging rings, the bride and groom perambulated the officiant with the candle four times, while prayers were said for four aspects of their future happiness. To symbolize the graceful dance of marriage, the couple alternated leading and following each other.

This picture captures just how much Jaquee enjoyed her own wedding. The celebration of the love she and Sol share absolutely pops out of the photos - I know they'll be excited when they get to see them!

Jaquee and Bryan's self portraiture

The cake had been cut, the toasts well-cheered, and Bryan could relax with his friend the bride.

We're using Bryan's flash for the main light, exposure balanced to the room light. I just turned off my flash for the shot, dialed in a suffienctly long exposure so that my shutter was open when his flash fired. A natural extension of working with the Pocket Wizards, only I didn't feel like setting up the PWs to his flash. Which wouldn't have worked anyway, since he was in fact making self-portraits at the time.

Jaquee and Sol asked Bryan to photograph their wedding. Bryan invited me along to help with the gig - a classy party up at Alta Lodge. Some unusual (for Utah) aspects, like the bride descending the stairs to the bellowing of a conch shell, and a Tibetan chant in mid-ceremony, but Jaquee and Sol's love for each other would have shone out in a city hall quickee marriage. J&S: Thanks for letting me be a part of your wonderful day!

Metadata
Nikon D2x
28-70 f/2.8
.3 s at f/4.0
ISO Speed Ratings 400
focal length 35mm

The Vermillion Cliffs from the Hwy 89 viewpoint north of Bitter Springs

I spent this week alternating among book chapter edits, the shocking backlog of Photoshop work, and the downright appalling backlog of housework. Progress, but no completion on any of those task list items.

I found a parking spot with a broken meter at the library on Wednesday. Usually I have to run out every two hours to feed the meter, since the truck won't fit in the underground parking. Without fear of the parking enforcement golf cart, I spent hours tracking down facts I wanted to double-check. How many people drowned at Lee's Ferry before the Marble Canyon Bridge opened in 1929? (Eleven.) Interesting things like that.

I photographed the images for this view of the Vermillion Cliffs on my Tucson trip back in April on the way to Flagstaff in July. I had to check the dates on the original files--I've been so many places since April, I can't remember when I was where. The final image is a 6000x4000 pixel panorama stitched from three images. I use Photoshop's Photomerge to align the images, but I select the "keep as layers" option. Then I do my own masking to make seamless transitions. It makes a bigger, but better file. I could wrap my truck with a print from this file. I could turn the exterior of my house into a billboard with it.

Housework gives me a head-clearing break from my computer. Or so goes the theory. I did spent time this week with the vacuum, the mop, the scrub brush. But then Nikon and UPS surprised me yesterday with the early return of the repaired D2X. Broken aperature lever, an all-too-common, non-warranty repair. "Only" $400. When I approved the estimate on Wednesday, the technician said it would take 7-10 business days, so I was somewhat shocked to open the door yesterday (48 hours later) and find a box on my porch.

It's back, it works, and I have pictures to make. Those aspens are going to turn fall colors from Babb, Montana to Flagstaff, Arizona. Actually, all the way to the Santa Catalina mountains above Tucson, but that far south is over the top. Even for me. Time to get out the maps and plot my next course. With enough down time so Mr. Mop doesn't stay in the closet until November, so I can finish that chapter, so my friends will remember my name.

Neon street scene outside the Montevista Hotel, Flagstaff, Arizona

I have been accused (in a friendly way) of holding back my best pictures from my recent trips, so here's one of my favorites from the Flagstaff advenutre.

I've learned something about how to photography neon in the past few months. I've worked out an effective (for me) method that begins, like almost all endeavors photographic: arrive early. I want the beautiful midnight blue color of the sky, and three dimensionality to the surroundings. If I wait until the sky is that actual color, the rest of the scene is too dark, and the neon will glow in a sea of black empty space where a neon sign porcelain background should appear.

Just at sunset, while the eastern sky has some pretty colors, I am setting up, camera facing east if the subject permits. Over the next few mintues, the colors will slide off to the west, and there may be a lot of sunset left behind me but the eastern sky will take on a middle blue-grey tone that gradually darkens to that pretty midnight color. This blue light happens even if the sky is completely covered in clouds.

I start shooting as soon as the transition from pink to blue starts. Raw files, a middling fstop, tripod. I will try to set up an HDR file, although I almost never have to use it. I just watch the highlight clipping in the histogram. There are always a magical few moments when the sky and the light from the neon is in balance. That's when I start shooting like mad, recomposing, moving around.

Then I switch to west-facing. Repeat same process. There may be enough time to relocate a new subject, if the east-west angles work for each. The blue light special doesn't last very long, so good scouting pays off if I need to set up somewhere else nearby.

Post-processing: I adjust the RAW files to bring up the midtones, and to adjust the white balance. I keep the D2X on the daylight setting, but 4750K is too warm for that time of night, so I drop it down quite a bit, maybe to 4000K. If I were shooting jpeg, I'd probably us the white balance for incandescent if I couldn't set it manually. I may also sandwich two images, one deeply underexposed, and mask in only the neon. That's what I did here, to give a little more crispness to the tubes.

The guy never went into the bar.

Team roping at the North American Indian Days INFR rodeo in Browning, MT

Millie's going to guest blog later this week and tell you about our adventures. Let me just say, 5 days, lots of miles, lots of shutter clicks.

The D2X rocks, that's one certainty in the midst of all the mileage and electronica. I reviewed some of the rodeo shots I made on Saturday, and the color, focus, and contrast are just gorgeous. I have done nothing to this RAW file, except resize it and a light sharpen (I don't sharpen in-camera at all). No saturation, no contrast. It is an sRGB file, which works better on the web for my tastes, but that's it.

The D2X is a beast. It's heavy. The buttons are spaced for a guy's bear paw, not my smallish hands. It does everything I ask. It's a beautiful piece of engineering. Kind of like some of the ponies we saw at the rodeo. Amazing animals, even more amazing horseman(woman)ship. If you get a chance to go to an Indian National Finals Rodeo event, don't miss it.

Mares and foals from Reed Thomas Quarterhorses

People ask me how I get myself into situations like a herd of horses heading my way at full gallop. Tuesday's first appointment is a good example about how I go about these things, if anything in my photographic life has a pattern.

Last year for the ongoing project, I photographed at the Mt. Pleasant, Utah rodeos - both of them, the locals-only friendly on July 1 and then two days later at the competitive events. On the arena wall, I noticed Reed Thomas's sponsor banner.

Desert View Watchtower (1932) - Mary Colter, Architect

[Updated 2007.10.15 - I've been collecting links to great women photographers - gathered in my Women in the Field archive to share. Email me with suggestions to grow this list.]

I couldn't help but notice during my 17 days on the road what a low proportion of "serious" outdoor photographers that I met in the national parks were female. Let's define "serious" pretty loosely: using an SLR type camera and a tripod. I can remember meeting only two, both shooting with their husbands and using his cast-off gear.