LensWork Daily

3:1

3:1

Alabama Hills

Statistics can be fascinating things. They can also prompt some questions that are worth pondering, at least for a minute or two. In my post yesterday, I used two images made in the last few days as I'm here in Bishop, California — both of which happened to be vertical compositions. For some reason, that struck me odd because I don't often make a vertical orientation landscape image. In fact, popping over to my Lightroom database, I see that I make horizontal compositions about 3 times more often than vertical ones — hence, 3:1.

Why? Do I naturally see in horizontal compositions? Or is it more insidious — that my camera's natural construction is oriented toward landscape orientation images? It's worth thinking about because it cannot be good to be so controlled by the manufacture of the machine. If my camera's natural orientation were vertical (has there ever been such a camera?), would I still make horizontal images 3 times more frequently than vertical ones? Statistically, one would expect something closer to 50/50 in the distribution, so some factor is at play that skews the stats. Horizons, the biology of human eyes, bald skies? Hmmm . . .

As a publisher, I'm perhaps even more interested in this than I would otherwise be. Books (and magazines) are more often vertical than horizontal by a wide statistical margin. This has always been a complication for landscape photographers. However, in the age of computer/iPad/digital presentations where horizontal screens are universal, perhaps we photographers have a blessing for which we should be grateful. As more and more images are seen in these new media, the natural shape of the viewing medium will more closely match the images we tend to make — at least if my statistics are like yours. I'm curious, so let's do a little comparison exercise. Post a comment with your stats from your Lightroom catalog (rough ratio, that is) and let's see.*

* If you are not familiar how to get this information, follow these steps: In the Library Module, look at the Folders panel at the left. Click on the highest level folder so you are looking at your entire catalog. In Grid View, click on the Metadata panel at the top. In the first Library Filter column at the left, twirl down the menu and select Aspect Ratio near the bottom of the list. You should then see a count of the total number of horizontal, vertical, square, and "other" images in your catalog.

The Death of the Straight Line

The Death of the Straight Line

There was a time when wanting to accomplish something required that you knew a way — typically a single, straightforward way — to do it. In fact, most typically there was only one way to do something. For example, when we wanted to make a phone call we picked up the phone and dialed. Today, when I want to make a phone call I can choose between my landline, my cell phone, my Skype account, my Tango account, or my Unison account — let alone that I could also send a text message, an email, an instant message, a voicemail, a voice email, or even a video email. I suppose I could write a letter, too, but how quaint is that? (Can we still send telegrams? Nevermind.)

For something as simple as "reaching out" (when did this god-awful phrase infect the culture?), the first thing I have to do is not compose the content of my message, but rather decide which type of message delivery system best fits my needs of the moment. Startlingly, we are fast approaching that level of complexity in photography, too. It's like trying to find a straight-line path across a Chinese Checkers board. I may desperately want there to be one, but the number of possible paths to the other side are incalculable.

Film or digital? Large-format, medium format, or small format? Camera, tablet, phone, or camera-capable MP3 player? Square format, rectangular format, or panorama format? Black and white, color, or "effects"? Still photograph or video? Photoshop, PaintShop Pro, Lightroom, or Aperture? Worse, almost any of these answers can be cross-pollinated with any of the others — camera still, camera video, tablet video with effects + square format, camera with black-and-white video? Yikes. Part of me longs for the days when I had one camera, used only one film, was limited to three fixed focal length lenses. In those days, my biggest decision was which Zone to place the shadows at. Such thinking is now merely nostalgic piffle, fondly remembered by a few old codgers. For the rest of you youngsters, Zones are explained here. Better yet, youngsters, read this book. (Pssst, old guys, don't tell them. He-he-he.)

This illuminates, I think, another way in which artmaking in photography has changed so dramatically. It's not just that we use new equipment, but that in order to be reasonably competent we need to have competency in each of the variations. It's no longer sufficient to be skilled at one and only one method of image making. Said another way, faced with the creative challenge and the desire to most effectively present my vision in a finished image, I need to be able to foresee (or to use the old term, previsualize) the final result in ever so many production variants. I find more and more that artmaking has become an attempt to answer the simple question: In order to achieve my desired result, which technical path is best?

I fear we're at the very beginning of this multiplying myriad of choices. I see nothing on the horizon that would indicate we will have fewer choices five years from now than we have today. I'm not bemoaning this, but I am pragmatic in the realization that the implication is that our futures are all filled with a plethora of unavoidable learning curves. The only other option would be to restrict our options — a path that looks seductively more and more intelligent as the technologies multiply in ways at which even rabbits would be amazed.

Bags, Bags, Bags

Bags, Bags, Bags

   

In the process of moving our offices, one of our helpers accused me of being a serial camera bag polygamist. In an attempt to defend myself against her scurrilous accusations, I counted. I am sorry to report that she may have a point — 32 (empty) camera bags were relocated in our recent move — plus one bag that had all my cameras inside.

Some photographers change cameras as frequently as underwear; I tend to keep cameras for a long, long time (even in the digital age) but change camera bags instead. This is healthy. It's certainly less expensive. As I've thought about this more, I've concluded that I am, actually, justified. Why? I don't change tool boxes frequently — nor desks, nor computer bags, nor brief cases. It's not that I'm a compulsive organization nutcase. The simple answer is that I tend to use my cameras for different types of photography that often require different kinds of cartage.

• An air trip overseas requires one type of bag — I prefer my most frequently trusted Kata bag. Occasionally I use one of my Lowepro Slingbag.
• A driving trip through the desert requires a dust proof case — my old army surplus instrument case works perfectly.
• Working on my feet over at the shipyard (where I could walk to from our old office) required a belt pack. I have Lowepro Toploaders for this use.

• Walking around in Tokyo or China, I found a fanny pack was ideal.
• When I'm driving somewhere to conduct a 3-camera video interview, I use the same cameras I do for everything else, but have found small, independent camera cases best. This way, each camera and its assorted accessories is housed in an identical bag with identical layouts. When it comes time to pack up, it's easy to see that I have everything I arrived with safely tucked away in it allotted spot.

So, upon reflection, I've arrived at a guilt-free zone. In fact, I feel fully justified in going shopping for a new bag for the LensWork Road Show. Fun!

Mobile Strategies, Part 2

Mobile Strategies, Part 2

In my last tech post, I outlined some of the key strategies we are developing in preparation for our mobile workflow during the upcoming LensWork Roadshow. I suppose it's not too obvious of a confession that part of the motivation for going on the roadshow is so that I can get out of the office and spend more time photographing. Here are a few notes about that part of our preparations.

Field work

In the past, I've been particularly frustrated with laptop computers because of their in adequate display screens. On several occasions, I've posted images while on the road only to find, after my return, that those great looking images on my laptop were awful on my calibrated monitor in the office. Color shifts, contrast issues, images too dark or too light, and even JPEG artifacts have plagued me. To make fieldwork effective, resolving mobile monitor issues were at the top of my priority list.

To this end, I've purchased a new Dell laptop that has a much more capable display screen. It is a 17.3" FHD Wide View, Anti-Glare with PremierColor, a "color technology sub-brand from Dell, which encapsulates the key attributes of color such as precise color accuracy, compatibility with industry color standard, internal color space selection, as well as amazing color gamut and depth." It includes assignable, predefined color spaces, such as ProPhoto, Adobe® RGB, sRGB and NTSC to deliver accurate image color data on an application-by-application bases. For example, the display automatically switches to sRGB when I'm using my web browser. Or, I can manually switch the display between ProPhoto and Adobe RGB (1998) when working in Lightroom. Very handy.

I've hardware calibrated this new display using my Spyder Pro puck and it is a perfect match for my calibrated desktop monitor. No more surprises when I return home.

Another problem that I've observed with consistency with laptop monitors is that the appearance of images on the screen changes dramatically depending on the angle of view. Open the laptop lid a bit too far and the images get too dark very quickly. Open the lid not enough and they are too light. Arrrgggh! This new laptop resolves this issue by employing a wide angle view LCD. I can still make the images change with extreme angle changes, but it takes an unrealistically steep angle to make the image tonalities change. I have confidence this is no longer an issue I'll be struggling with.

BTW, if you are interested in the specs, my new laptop is a Dell M6700.

Production Work

In addition to spending more time photographing, I'm also anticipating having additional time to work on projects that are in development. Being away from home and office for four months will allow me to focus my energies in the evenings and weekends when I hope to complete a number of projects that are in mid-development. In order to do this, however, I need to have all my production tools including my entire image library. Fortunately, portable storage continues to evolve more and more affordably. I'll have my complete photographic library with me in the form of a couple of Western Digital My Passport 2 terabyte hard drives. Who would've thought that a 2 TB hard drive would be available for less than $140?

I'm looking forward to the time I'll be able to devote to writing, image editing, layout and design, and finishing several new projects I've had on the back burners.

Writing

And speaking of writing, as many of you know I don't actually spend much time writing. Blank pieces of paper intimidate me and the idea of deciphering my penmanship is enough to cause nightmares. Writing for me is almost exclusively dictating, followed by extensive editing, organizing, rewriting, and frequent trips to the thesaurus. Since I'll be away from my desktop audio studio, I'm reverting to dictating the old-fashioned way — but with a slightly modern twist. Years ago — no, decades ago — I use a dictation machine with a hand-held controller.

They've updated these devices so the controllers are now USB plug-ins that allow dictation control in certain controller-savvy applications. For years I've used a wonderful software from NCH called Express Dictate to which I have added the Olympus DR-1200 dictation controller for use with my new laptop.

Cameras

I am thrilled and delighted to report that I will not be taking any new camera equipment with me on this trip. My existing cameras, lenses, and various accoutrements have proven themselves on numerous trips both domestic and overseas. That I will be able to use these now-trusted friends without needing to endure new learning curves is a joy I cannot adequately express.

Mobile Strategies

Mobile Strategies

The world is a fascinating place — my office, not so much. So why do I spend so much time inside that cube? Well, it's where my work is done. Why? It's where my computer is. Why? Because it's where our network, our filing cabinets, our desks, and our coat hooks are. Huh? In truth, it's because it is where our habits and history tell us to go each morning.

Time to think outside the box, er, cube — especially now that we are gearing up for the LensWork Roadshow travels.

So, just in case any of you are interested, here is a quick rundown on the steps we are taking to be mobile and productive — and to meet the deadlines on our publishing schedule for LensWork and LensWork Extended while we are away from the office.

Communications

To keep in touch with each other, we are using a wonderful new software called Unison. It's a combination of:

• Instant messaging — both real-time asynchronous chats
• Popup notifications
• Skype-like audio and video calling
• Conference audio calling

It runs on PCs, iPads, Android tablets, and smartphones. Very functional and great quality. For staff discussions, we've stopped using Skype entirely because of Unison's quality and ease of use. Even the phones and our cell phones are being used less and less.

File sharing

We've moved all our production files to cloud-based storage using Box. Box is sort of like Dropbox on steroids, expanded for serious team collaboration on large-file projects like publishing. Essentially, this is a remotely accessible replacement for the in-house servers we've used in the past. This is a radically new workflow for us, but it seems to be functioning pretty well in our first couple of weeks with it — at least we are smoothing out the few wrinkles as we go.

Project management

For the last several years, we've worked intensely with Microsoft OneNote to manage all our projects, task lists, and group collaboration. Up to now, we've store all our "notebooks" on our local servers. Fortunately, one of the key components of OneNote is the ability to alternatively store notebooks in the cloud at Microsoft's Skydrive. This allows all of us to have access to the same notebooks and share information fluidly no matter where we are. Real-time syncing allows us all to have the most up-to-date information on the production workflow for the magazine and LensWork Extended. I even have access to these notebooks on my Nexus tablet — albeit with a reduced feature set.

4G LTE

All this cloud stuff is great, but what if there isn't a Wifi portal nearby? That has ceased to be the limiting factor it once was now that Verizon 4G LTE is available so widely. In 2011 during our Roadshow in northern California, we ended up using our smartphones as Wifi hotspots more than we did Wifi connections at hotels. It's not possible to be connected everywhere, but it's more and more likely that connections to the Internet are not a limiting factor in our travel plans. Between Wifi connections available in so many places and 4G LTE where there isn't, there just aren't going to be many times when we are completely snookered.

Exchange server and Outlook

Email is still the most common way to stay in touch and we use it voluminously. Fortunately, by using an Exchange server and a neat little app called Touchdown, we can sync our Outlook email, calendars, tasks, and contact lists from any device we are using — and via 4G if we are outside of a Wifi zone. What is particularly handy about this is that when I am on my computer, I have the exact same data as I have on my phone or laptop — no more post-travel email cleanup.

Audio

I've mentioned before how dependent I am on audio notes — my stubby little fingers just don't type that well. I've used dozens of audio recording methods, devices, and workflows. I particularly use audio to record voice email responses and to send the staff notes and ideas via email. Two key tools allow me to do this now so easily that I almost feel guilty. On my Android devices, I use NetMemo, an app that allows me to start a recording with one tap, speak, and then conclude the recording and email it with a second tap. Two taps and I'm done! Fantastic — no cumbersome file transfers, no manual email attachments. The second tool I use constantly when I'm at my computer is NCH's Express Dictate. This software allows me to record audio and send wherever I need it to go with a single click to preprogrammed destinations.

Typing without typing

Elsewhere, I've also mentioned DragonSytems NaturallySpeaking voice recognition transcription software. I speak, it types for me. Lots of people use it and it's even more popular now because of the iPad app version. While I'm mobile, I use it all the time because of one aspect that is often overlooked: its ability to transcribe directly from a recorded audio file — an MP3, for example. I simply record a dictation to an audio file using "Dragonspeak" (See Jim run period go comma Jim comma go exclamationpoint), then simply upload the audio file to my computer and have NaturallySpeaking transcribe it to text directly from the MP3 — while I go have lunch. You have no idea the lengths I'll go to so as to avoid typing.

In my next Tech Blog post, I'll outline mobile strategies for my photography. There are some new developments there, too, that are amazing.

Photoshop Touch and the Creative Cloud

Photoshop Touch and the Creative Cloud

I first wrote about the Adobe Touch apps back in November of 2011. The paradigm of using a touch tablet like an iPad/Android device for Photoshop or InDesign work is one of those technologies in search of a reason to exist. I've played with them, gone through the tutorials, but I've never actually used them for anything serious. Sometimes, I just want to know even if I don't have a current application for the new trick. Back then, I was using Photoshop Touch on my ASUS Transformer tablet. It worked, but I found it a bit silly to think about using the tablet as a serious camera. Equally silly was the idea that I'd send those photos via email to all my friends. All a bit too "social network hip" for my needs.

Since then, I've moved to a 7" tablet format, the Nexus 7. Photoshop Touch wasn't compatible with 7" tablets, so I waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, Photoshop Touch is now compatible. I loaded it up and it works just as well there as it did on my larger tablet a year ago. Cool. Now, why do I need it?

And then it occurred to me. Since my initial tests back then, I've also updated to CS6 via the Creative Cloud paradigm. For those of you not aware of this new Adobe plan, in a nutshell it works like this: rather than purchase each piece of software you want (a fortune for each one) and then periodically upgrade to the newer version (half a fortune apiece), you join the Adobe Create Cloud for a monthly fee (a comparative pittance) and have access to all the software Adobe makes. Let me repeat that so it doesn't blast past you — all the software Adobe makes. As a member of the Creative Cloud, you get everything — Photoshop, Lightroom, InDesign, Dreamweaver, Audition, Premiere Pro, After Effects, Muse, Prelude, Illustrator, Fireworks, Flash Pro, and Acrobat Pro — you get the idea. Wow.

Individual plans are as low as $29 a month — about $540 every 18 months, which is about what I used to pay for just two programs upgrades. What's not to like? Some folks worry that they will lose access to all their documents — and you would — if they stop their membership, but as a publisher, when am I ever going to be able to stop my membership? Never! I suspect Adobe knows that.

There is also a team plan that allows our entire team access to everything for about $70 a month, total, per person. Because Adobe updates all their stuff about every 18 months, we were faced with a huge upgrade cost every year and a half. I did the math: 18 x 70 = $1,260 — that's about ½ of what we used to pay for all the upgrades we did across all the Creative Suite and individual programs we use. It was an easy decision.

One other thing. As a Creative Cloud purchaser, we get the latest updates to each program as soon as they are available. No more waiting for the full Creative Suite update. Just this week, Adobe updated Photoshop for the Creative Cloud members. Disc buyers or Creative Suite folks are waiting for who knows how long.

Back to the Touch apps. One of the parts of the Creative Cloud that sort of escape me was the cloud aspect itself. Each Creative Cloud account comes with 20 gigabytes of cloud storage. Big deal. But — and here's the part where the Touch apps get interesting — the Touch apps can save any project to your cloud storage. When you then download the project to your desktop, it will open in the full program associated with it, complete with all your mobile work intact.

An example: You want to start a brainstorm for an InDesign layout while you are mobile. (Believe it or not, I do this all the time, typically on the back of a proverbial bar napkin.) Now I can create a "mood board" using Adobe Collage and then save it to the cloud. When I get back to my computer, the Collage project "brainstorm and rough-out" opens in InDesign just like it is an InDesign document. I have a jump start without skipping a beat or needing to repeat my working ideas in a new InDesign layout from scratch.

Another example: I start messing around with an image in Photoshop Touch, playing with adjustment layers, composite layers, effects, or even some pretty sophisticate pixel pushing. I save the Photoshop Touch project to the cloud and then open it in Photoshop when I'm back at my computer. The Touch app document is converted to a PSD file with all the layers preserved, including adjustment layers, masks, etc. I can then refine them in Photoshop for the final image. The only limitation is that Touch apps are limited to 4000x3000 pixel images — which is exactly what I use.

The tablet world does not yet have enough color calibration to use them for final editing, but as a mobile sketch pad, they are great. Any work I do on the fly in the brainstorming phase is not lost. Said another way, I don't need to start all over once I'm back at my computer.

Now there is a solid reason for the Creative Cloud/Touch apps paradigm that I can sink my teeth into. The only missing step that is coming (Adobe says), is the ability to share my cloud documents with my other team members so we can have collaborative documents in the cloud. Can't wait for that one.

This is starting to sound like a commercial and I apologize for that. I just think Adobe has made my life as a photographer and publisher so much easier that I want to share my enthusiasm for their stuff. They don't pay me a dime, but if you folks at Adobe are listening and want to pony up, I'll be happy to talk with you.

Poo-poo Occurs

Poo-poo Occurs

As our dependence on technology has increased so dramatically over the last dozen years, so has our exposure to failure. Wear and tear take their toll. Design flaws are all too common. Pilot error is always possible. So, it's not a question of if something will fail, but really more of a when.

With this in mind, I've started an ordered list of how things will fail in the field in the hopes that I can anticipate them. In the olden days, we used to worry about running out of film. Now, I live in a perfect panic about batteries. There's a lot more to fret over, however.

In descending order from "disaster" to "inconvenience," here is my list along with my strategy for remedy.

Failure in decreasing importance	Strategy/Remedy
Camera battery failure	Carry three batteries at all times. The chances of losing good images because three batteries all fail simultaneously has got to be remote. Or the work of the evil photo gods.
Camera battery charger failure	If my battery charger fails (or I accidently leave it at home, ahem), I carry the USB cord that connects the camera to my computer for emergency battery charging. My camera will charge a battery while still in the camera.
Memory card failure	Carry multiple cards. Have at least two different brands. Have a couple of smaller backup cards.
Camera failure	My strategy is to use camera bodies that are inexpensive enough that I can carry two with me at all times. Sure, I might sacrifice some of the yippy skippy features of the $3,000 monster camera, but I feel much safer having two $1,500 cameras. Besides, this also means I have to swap lenses less often thereby reducing the exposure of the sensor to the elements.
Lens failure	Carry extra lenses. For example, a 20mm pancake lens is small, weighs nothing, and is a great emergency backup lens.
Tripod/head failure	I love the Joby Gorillapod. I carry one as a tripod backup, but also use it for doing videos or for holding a microphone when I'm working on multimedia projects.
Cable release failure	I now use a remote control release for everything. Extra batteries are a must. I also have a wired release as a backup, just in case. Nothing quite as annoying as having to use the delay timer because the cable release is broken.
Lens cap failure	I am personally responsible for about 500 lens caps littering the landscapes of the world. Damn, those things are slippery! I now prefer the screw-on kind and use cap keepers. Not foolproof, but better than nothing. I also carry motel shower caps to keep the rain off my camera in an unexpected downpour. That and a rubber band also make a nice emergency lens cap.
Laptop failure	I still carry my Nexto image tank. If the laptop dies, I can at least make backups of my images and even clear off my cards if I need to.

 

Beyond the photographic equipment, there are a host of other items that I plan for failure — flashlights, gloves, hats, glasses, sunglasses, bugs, automobile batteries, cell phones — Murphy's law knows no bounds. My friend Joe Lipka broke his glasses on our recent trip and had to have his wife FedEx a replacement pair to the outback of the canyon lands of southern Utah. My last trip was plagued by a broken dash mount for my GPS unit.

As we all know, poo-poo occurs. Best to be prepared for it when technology lets us down.

A Thousand Forks in the Road

A Thousand Forks in the Road

There was a time in my life when making a photograph was a relatively simple thing in so much that I had only one option — I could make a black and white gelatin silver print. Period. I never did learn platinum/palladium printing; I never worked in color; multi-projector slide shows were considerably outside my budget; and audio and video were for broadcast professionals.

How far we've come in just a few years. Because of the technological advances available to all of us, I now commonly work in prints, multimedia PDFs, video, book publication, publications for iPads and other digital devices, and most recently in artist-made chapbooks. Hooray for the technology — but what complicated layer of decision-making this has added to my creative life.

I'm currently working on, roughly, a hundred different photographic projects. This is not an exaggeration. Some I am just beginning, a few I'm near the end, and a huge pile in the middle are stuck because I'm having a hard time deciding which medium I will use for its completion. This has grown into a thoroughly unexpected sticking point in my creative process.

For example, with any given project I can easily see it as a series of black and white prints. That's easy, I've done it my entire life. But I can also see it completed as one of these other, newer media. Anything that could become a stack of prints could just as easily become a PDF, a video, a slideshow, and iPad app — or all of the above! Essentially, the technology has made it easier to finish an image (dodging, burning, etc.), but far more difficult to finish a project.

I shouldn't complain. In spite of the fact that finishing the project is become more complicated, I have no doubt that I'm producing the best artwork of my life. I suspect what's missing is a solution for this decision-making process for which I am not prepared nor am I trained.

I don't ever remember the discussion of media options cropping up in a workshop in my youth. What I wouldn't give to trade a few of those long-lost Zone System tutorial hours for a little help in how to think through the forest of possibilities that are the beginnings of every project in today's world.

How Much Resolution Do You Need?

How Much Resolution Do You Need?

Ah, yes, the eternal question. I remember in 1970, long before the digital age, debating the same question relative to film formats. For some of us, me included, this internal question is always been associated with an eternal guilt — If only I had a bigger camera…

Examined a bit more dispassionately, however, isn't it easy to see that a bit of reverse engineering answers this question definitively? Simply put,

• If your ultimate goal is a screen presentation, you only need about 4 megapixels.
• If your ultimate goal is a book publication, you only need about 8 megapixels.
• If your ultimate goal is a modest size print, say, 11 x 14" or so, 12 megapixels will do just fine.

With this in mind, a 12-16 megapixel camera offers just about everything most of us will ever really need. So why all the fuss for gazillion megapixel cameras? Well, there are a few pragmatic answers:

• If you want to make giant wall size prints, you need all the megapixels you can muster.
• If your working method involves a lot of cropping, you need all the megapixels you can muster.
• If you need bragging rights about how big your camera is, you might just need… therapy. (Please, I'm kidding, no emails.)

My failing memory is going to butcher the following story, but the essence of it is correct. I remember Ted Orland quoting some other photographer that the camera one should use is the one least capable of providing the desired result; anything beyond that is overkill, merely adding expense and confusion to the process. Over the years, I've found that bit of wisdom to be spot on. Said colloquially, KISS — an almost laughable bit of advice in today's digital complexity.

Assuming we all can agree on the above logic about reverse engineering, the flaw in this line of thinking is the assumption that we actually know — before hand — how any given image is going to be used. The great fear is, of course, that we will use a lightweight camera and wish, down the line, for a heavyweight result. I've been known to literally have "troubled dreams" about finding myself with a low resolution camera unexpectedly in a situation that would create a fabulous giant wall-sized print. In my more rational (ahem) waking states, I still have that fear. Hence, overkill in the selection of my camera is as much about searching for a comfort zone than it is about strict mechanical reverse engineering. How do we determine out comfort zone?

Ultimately, the strictly technological question about resolution boils down to artistic and aesthetic decisions. What do you want to make? In what form do you see your creative output? When it's finished, what will it be? And therein lies the rub. So many photographers that I've talked to over the years simply cannot answer that question because finishing is such a difficult thing.

So much of photography is all about potential — the power of the negative (or the digital file) to be reinterpreted for some new purpose, at some undetermined time in the future. There's that famous maxim about the negative being the score and the print being the performance. But, if the eventual performance is an unknown commodity, we are easily seduced into making the score all-powerful, all-adaptable, all-potential, be it negative or digital file. Well, let's cover all the bases and make every exposure with a 20x24 view camera. Too ridiculous? Use an 8x10. Too bulky? Try a Nikon D800E. Too costly? Maybe a D5100…

But wait a minute, what is that exercise all about? Obviously, it's about figuring out where you want to draw the line that fits your means and still provides you an expansive comfort zone. As has been so often joked, the first Commandment is, "Thou Shalt Draw the Line Somewhere." We all do it whether we are conscious of it or not. But, why? In essence, I'm suggesting that the incessant desire for more megapixels might just be an indicator that there is indecision about what format is best for the artwork.

So the question How much resolution do you need? is a bit of a red herring. The real question is What form of media will you use to complete your creative vision? With all respect to the Bard, "To be, or not to be" is not really the question. Instead, we need to ask ourselves "Is our artwork is to be A, B, C, or D?" That is the question. Indeed, it's not merely a question, but a question requiring an artistic commitment. And that, my friends, is one of the most difficult tasks facing all artists. It's far easier to just plop down the credit card and demand, like Oliver Twist, "More, Sir, please!"

Needing a Little Chemical Help

Needing a Little Chemical Help

No, not "recreational chemicals," but rather darkroom chemicals. When I stopped doing wet darkroom work, I had lots of ingredient chemistry left over from all those years of mixing all my own chemistry from scratch. Most if it I was able to give away to photographers who could still use it, a few of the more dangerous ones (e.g., several bottles of anhydrous analytical reagent acids — sulfuric, hydrochloric, etc.) I was able to easily neutralize and dispose of safely.

I have one bottle of nasty stuff left that I need to deal with. It's Sodium Sulfide (Na₂S•9H₂O), used in some odd toning formulations. Nasty stuff. I have a pound of it — yes, a pound. The warning on the label says, "DANGER! Contact with acid liberates poisonous gas" to which I assume they are referring to hydrogen sulfide — which will kill you. I have no idea how to dispose of this safely, but there must be something I can mix it with to neutralize it for disposal. (Or if someone wants to drive to Anacortes, you can have it for free — and the post office will be very glad I didn't mail it.)

I'm not a chemist, so I could use some qualified advice about procedures for disposing this stuff. Anyone care to recommend a method of neutralizing it?

I have to admit, I am relieved that my current photography has reduced the number of these types of dangerous chemicals I have to work with to pretty much zero. It nice that my artwork can no longer blow up the house.