Adrian Scholes

Did I Mention I Love It Here?

I live in Essex County, Massachusetts, and I love it here. As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, I’ve travelled extensively over the years, but nowhere has captivated me like this region. I’m going to steal from a page of the Essex National Heritage Commission (ENHC) web site, as they sum it up perfectly: “…the Essex National Heritage Area covers the 500 square miles of eastern Massachusetts that lies north of Boston. It's not one location, but thousands of historical sites. Not a mile-long beach, but miles and miles of intact landscapes and glistening coastal areas. Not one story and tradition, but lifetimes of rich experiences that chronicle the history of our region, and our nation.”

Makes you want to live here, or at least visit, right?  :o)

There is so much to see and do in these 500 square miles, so much to learn, and I’m on a mission to do just that. I’ve been posting photographs of recent visits to local landmarks, and this week was a particularly good one for learning.

On Sunday, I joined members of the Essex County Greenbelt Association (ECGA) for a guided tour of the Indian Hill Farm Reservation; one of their properties in West Newbury. As we followed trails through some of the 45 acres, we learned the history of the estate and its fascinating (and maybe a little eccentric) owner, Major Ben Perley Poore. In addition to his prominence as a 19^th century newspaper correspondent and editor, Major Poore was an avid horticulturist and spent years landscaping and planting the hillsides of his property, and creating formal gardens and the winding cart-paths we were walking on. I always enjoy the history of these places, and value the work ECGA is doing to preserve it for us. 

 

Wednesday evening found me at the annual meeting of the Merrimack River Watershed Council, learning more about the important work these folks are doing to monitor, preserve and protect this magnificent river that continues to play such an important role in the history and economy of Essex County. We were also treated to an outstanding presentation on the status and struggles of the Atlantic and Shortnose sturgeon, which migrate from the ocean to spawn at a location a mile from where I live. A truly prehistoric fish, Sturgeon have managed to survive for 2 million years, and until threatened to near extinction by over-fishing, dams and pollution. Another feather for our proud-humanity cap!

Finally, last night was spent in most agreeable company at the Jewell Towne Vineyards; New Hampshire's oldest winery. Although technically in NH, the property spans the border into Essex County, just outside Amesbury. The visit was arranged by the Essex National Heritage Commission, mentioned above; another organization dedicated to “building, growing and sustaining our sense of place”. The tour was engaging, the food excellent, and the wine pairings exceptional. We of course came home with a few new bottles for the cellar (ok, the basement).

Most importantly though, at all of these events I meet the people who are dedicating their lives to promoting, preserving and protecting this amazing region. At dinner last night, we shared our table with Elizabeth Rankin from ENHC. It was impossible to ignore the enthusiasm and conviction in her voice and eyes as she discussed the work of the organization and her role in it. I’ve observed this in every person I’ve met from every one of these organizations.

And this is what will keep me going back, learning more, and doing my small part to help them do what they do best. Did I mention I love it here?

Looking Through the Camera

I’ve been lucky enough to get out and photograph on a regular basis these past few weeks, and I’ve noticed an interesting development in the way I photograph; or, more specifically, in the way I use my camera.

I’ve known for a while that I never produce my best work in the first few minutes of photographing a location. I need to give myself time to settle down and think about the images I want to capture. That doesn’t mean I ignore the camera. Quite the contrary. I tend to snap away, knowing I’ll almost certainly disappointed with those first photos, but also knowing it’s essential for me to get into a rhythm.

Now that I’m photographing a few times a week, I’ve noticed this ‘settling down’ process is getting shorter, and this morning I realized why this is happening.

There’s a lot to think about with a digital SLR; from setting the right aperture to making sure the ISO is appropriate, and a bunch of other decisions in between. When I haven’t picked up the camera in a while, I find myself thinking through these decisions. I have to get comfortable with the ‘tools’ again, and remind myself where things are. I’m looking at the camera not through the camera. It’s a subtle distinction that makes a big difference.

I’ve read of photographers who regularly practice at home, so they can ensure success in the field. I used to think that was taking things a little too far, but I now appreciate the benefits this can bring.

For now, though, I’ll be using these regular photography trips to practice looking through the camera.

Mirror Mirror on the Mountain

I was chatting with a Verizon rep at the house yesterday. Actually, I wasn’t so much chatting as saying no thank you to the myriad service options he was attempting to sell. But I digress. In the midst of the small talk that is the calling card of every good (and bad) salesman, he said something I found rather fascinating.

I have no idea why, but we were talking about losing weight. I mentioned how much I like comfort food, so winter is always the wrong time for me to think about shedding pounds. Mr. V. responded that he always finds it easier to lose weight in the winter because “I can spend hours in the gym”. He then went on to rationalize that summer is “much too nice to spend time exercising”.

What I found fascinating is that myopic suggestion of exercise consisting only of pounding the rubber mat of a treadmill or throwing around sticky dumbbells while listening to old Journey songs (yeah, I joined a bad gym).

A quick look at an online dictionary defines exercise as physical activity or a cardiovascular workout. How sad to not think of either of these in terms of a hike up a nearby mountain or exploring local back roads on a bike. I know I’m biased, but I also know there’s something wrong with driving a car a couple of miles to a gym, in order to run a couple of miles on a treadmill.

Of course, there on no mirrors on those mountains or back roads…

Ten Easy Steps to Having Your Own Thoughts

I’m a big fan of technology and innovation, but a couple of related experiences this week got me thinking about how so called ‘progress’ is not always for the best.

First came the news that I will no longer be able to visit, browse, and purchase from the magnificent collection of photography books that Timothy Whelan stocks in his Rockport, Maine store. Yesterday, after ~18 years, he closed up the store that, as Ashley Gilbertson describes in this excellent and moving interview, “is known as one of the finest of its kind in the United States”. In the interview, Mr. Whelan discusses the economic difficulties of running such a store, especially in this age of Amazon.com and the internet. It’s impossible to compare the experience of thumbing through beautifully printed books by some of the best (and little known) photographers on the planet with a quick browse through the thumbnail images on Amazon.

Today, I popped into a local Barnes & Noble to grab a coffee and spend a few minutes answering some urgent emails. As with every visit, I first wandered over to the photography section to get my browsing fix. Only, there was no photography section; at least not where it’s been for the past year or so. In its place were dozens of book covers extolling the wonders the author could work with my window treatments and interior décor, if I would only give them a chance.

After wandering up and down a couple of aisles, I found my missing photography section. Actually, ‘section’ is an exaggeration. What I found was a meager collection of maybe 20 books covering the portfolios of well-known photographers such as Ansel Adams and Henri Cartier-Bresson. Not to take anything away from these masters, but these are the same few books we see in every store; nothing new or different.

The reason was clear as I moved a few aisles over and found the section titled “Digital Photography”, which is apparently a very different animal to just plain old photography. Here, I could learn the “Ten Shortcuts to Mastering Photoshop”, how to “Manipulate Skin”, “Hacks That Every Digital Photographer Should Know”, and “Digital Photography in 24 Hours”. Nowhere could I actually pick up and browse the portfolio of a photographic artist, examine and enjoy his or her work, and simply lose myself in their art. Oh no. That would involve reflection, contemplation, analysis, and generally using my own brain to draw my own conclusions. In fact, I’m sure someone’s written a book entitled “Ten Easy Steps to Having Your Own Thoughts”. If they haven’t, I have first dibs.   

Top 10 Memory Lapses for a Landscape Photographer

Yesterday, my quest for photographing Fall color began with a 3:30am alarm. Like most people, my brain isn’t fully (ok, is not at all) operating on all cylinders at that time. Over the years, I’ve developed a habit of preparing the night before. I need to be able to jump out of bed, into the car, and get going. It’s not a perfect system. This time, I forgot my rain jacket. Guess what the weather was doing when I arrived at my first destination.

This preparation doesn’t just stop with photography and personal ‘gear’. To illustrate, here’s a list of ten other memory lapses that have gotten me into trouble. There are many more, but I’ve forgotten what they are. :)

10 - Forgetting to change the ISO setting, after shooting indoors at ISO 1600 or higher, and returning from a fabulous hike with a card full of grainy and unusable images

09 - Leaving the camera on 10 second self-timer, and realizing the moment a moose spends exactly 9 seconds crossing the path in front of me

08 - Forgetting my tripod; the second most important piece of equipment I carry

07 - Leaving the books or maps of my planned route at the side of my bed, where I was reading them the night before

06 - Forgetting to charge my camera battery

05 - Charging my battery, and leaving it in the charger

04 - Not packing toilet paper for a long hike into the great outdoors. ‘Nuff said

03 - Not keeping a firm enough hold on my camera and backpack during a walk through Barcelona, and watching it all get whisked away by a couple of professional criminals

02 - Forgetting to set or change my alarm, and rendering everything else moot

And the number one memory lapse that has gotten me into trouble?

01 - Brewing a cup of tea and leaving it sitting on the counter. Maybe I should add some perspective here. One of the first questions my daughter often asks when she gets up in the morning is “Daddy, have you had your tea yet?”.

So, that’s my list. It’s Interesting to see how many of these have crept in due to the digital age.  What about you? Did I miss anything?

Pride & Prejudice in New England

About now, TV channels and web forums are abuzz with predictions and opinions about fall color in New England. September’s Yankee Magazine has an excellent article entitled “The Top 25 Towns for Foliage”, and this is representative of what we see and read elsewhere; the best drives, finest fall hikes, views no leaf peeper should miss…

Fall in New England is indeed spectacular, and I always look forward to those special trips to see what photographic splendor is waiting to be captured. I enjoy the fact that it is all so unpredictable. Despite an overabundance of colorful interactive maps and confident predictions, Mother Nature is firmly in control here.  Headed out in the early hours of the morning, you never know what you’ll find and whether you are too early, late, or just in time. Hike a half mile in any direction from an area past its prime, and you’ll likely find a magnificent display of crimson and gold.

I often wonder how many born and bred New Englanders truly appreciate this annual exhibit. I grew up on the doorstep of an area called the Peak District in England. This is the stuff of picture postcards and calendars; rolling hills and valleys, lazy trout rivers, rocky outcrops, picturesque villages and stone walls straddling the hillsides in every direction. If you’ve seen the recent adaptation of “Pride & Prejudice” or any episode of James Herriot’s vet stories (although these take place in an adjacent county), then you know the kind of scenery. It’s truly beautiful area, but back then it was simply home. Only now, after living over here for 16 years, do I truly appreciate its beauty.

Last year, I took only one trip - to the White Mountains in NH – in search of photographs, and I realized I’m in danger of falling into that same apathetic routine. I’ve recently had reason to think much about this area and how fortunate I am to live here. New England is an exceptional corner of the world and, like many natural places, is in a constant fight to retain that distinctiveness.

As a landscape photographer, I can think of no better use for my work than to remind folks of where they live, remind them to appreciate the enduring beauty of New England, and to ensure it stays that way for my daughter and generations to come.

So, if you’ll excuse me, I have some photos to take.

a black and white state of mind

I’ve been on a black and white kick for a while; not just with the photographs I’m taking, but also with the books and magazines I’m reading. Whenever I talk about favorite photographs or photographers, or images that have inspired me, they are most likely monochrome. My long-time favorite magazine is LensWork, a publication with the tagline ‘Photography and the Creative Process’. Brooks Jenson, the editor of LensWork, has a knack for finding and publishing the portfolios of some of the world’s most fabulous and little-known photographers - and it’s all in black and white.

One of the most alluring – and enduring – pleasures of black and white photography is its ability to invoke specific emotions using only the basic elements of light, shadow, tone and texture.  Adding color makes it easier to craft an image that triggers our intended response. The relationship between color and emotion is well known. Photos with predominantly cool colors (blue, green) generally invoke feelings of rest and quiet, while images full of warmer colors (red, yellow, orange) are seen as active and stimulating.

Removing the extra complexity (or laziness?) of color can have a fascinating effect on our interpretation of an image. Photos that are tranquil and relaxing in color can quickly become moody and ominous in black and white, or visa-versa.

I realize none of this is groundbreaking information. What I’ve really been thinking about is why I go through these bouts of creating only monochrome or color images. I rarely go out on a mission to find both. When I’m in a black and white state of mind, I quite literally ‘see’ in shades of grey. I’m thinking about how colors will convert, whether the scene is high or low contrast, and how the forms and textures in the image will play into the composition. The resulting photographs rarely work as a color image. On the other hand, it’s not unusual for me to return from capturing in color, only to convert some of those images to black and white later. Maybe this is a reflection of how I feel when I’m processing the photo. It would be an interesting experiment to look back through my images of recent years and identify parallels between image choices and life events. Then again, maybe that’s something I should leave well enough alone  :-)

Playing Favorites

My most recent post about the difficulty of choosing a collection of photographs for contests or other uses prompted a friend/reader to ask a very good question; “What’s your favorite photograph by another photographer?”

For me, this is actually a very easy question. If I follow the dictionary definition for favorite, and pick the photograph that I “regard with special favor or preference”, it can only be “Clearing Winter Storm”, taken in the 1940’s by Ansel Adams.

I’ve always been inspired by Ansel’s stunning black and white images but, until a couple of years ago, had only seen them reproduced in books and those museum-style prints common in student dorm rooms. Then I had an opportunity to attend a gallery showing a collection of his prints. One of these prints, crafted in the darkroom with his own hands, was “Clearing Winter Storm”.

As I stood in front of this huge print, I finally understood the mastery of its creator, from his original vision through to his work in the darkroom.  A friend just reminded me of a little known but fabulous Ansel Adams quote: “The single most important component of a camera is the twelve inches behind it.” I love that notion, and its essence is fully apparent in “Clearing Winter Storm”. This photograph is more than a recording of a scene or an event. It’s also more than a literal recreation of what the photographer saw as he looked through the lens of his large format view camera. It’s a faithful reproduction of what he saw in his mind’s eye; the vision that he wanted to convey. As you stand in front of this print and get lost in its amazing detail, you understand the darkroom skills necessary to bring that vision to life. Tones, highlights and shadows all play an important role, used to draw your eye to specific areas of the print and move you around it in a manner that tells a complete story.These skills are rapidly becoming lost in this digital age of automation and instant gratification.

So, yes, this “favorite” of mine is the photograph that taught me the difference between looking and seeing. It’s a valuable lifetime lesson that has implications far beyond photography.

What about you? Do you have a favorite and a story?

15 Photographs, 22 Dreams

Paul Weller has long been one of my favorite musicians. I’ve been a fan of his work since The Jam’s “In the City” first hit the UK charts in 1977, although that was admittedly an era of questionable personal fashion and hair colors that I’ve since endeavored to forget!

I’ve followed, and purchased, his music from the Jam, through The Style Council and his solo career. Earlier this year, he released his tenth solo album – ‘Wake up the Nation’, which also happens to be one of his best.

The album that got me thinking today, though, was his 2008 release – “22 Dreams”. Although it actually contains only 21 songs, that’s still 10 more than the average album. Listening to it on my drive home, I got to wondering how difficult it must be for such a prolific songwriter to decide which compositions make the cut. See him live and it becomes obvious that he writes many more songs than appear on his CDs. His concerts are often a testing ground for new material; “I’m still working on this one”.

The reason this was on my mind, was a recent opportunity to submit 15 photographs to an online gallery. This is always a difficult task. Photography, like any art, is highly subjective. I have my favorites (and there are more than 15) but ask anyone else to choose and they are likely to pick a completely different set of images. The more we think about it, the more difficult it becomes, and decision paralysis soon sets in. This is one reason I believe Flickr is so popular. I notice many serious photographers posting very different photographs to the ones that appear on their ‘official’ web site. It’s almost as if Flickr is a testing ground, similar to Weller’s concerts. I certainly know I’ve treated it that way over the years.

After much agonizing, I did narrow down my choices to 15 photographs. What I found interesting was the difficulty in getting from 16 to 15. I’m sure if I’d been asked to submit 10, I would have easily edited down to 11 and struggled with the final deletion. I wonder if Mr. Weller has the same problem. Of course, the big difference between my task and his, is that he has to live with his choices, indelibly imprinted on thousands of CDs around the world. With online galleries and social media, I can change my mind and change what I want you to see, all in a matter seconds. Oh, and I guess there’s also the minor fact that he’s a massively successful, world renowned artist. Bah.

Musical Photography

My recent blog on inspiration left me with a few unfinished thoughts, so I’m going to continue the theme for a few more posts.

I play guitar. I’ve enjoyed having a guitar around for something like 20 years now. I find it interesting that many of my photographer friends play an instrument – most often piano, guitar or violin. It’s no coincidence that Ansel Adams was an accomplished classical pianist; yet another fact supporting my earlier post on the appeal of photography for people with an even balance of left (technical) and right (creative) brain power.  Playing music requires a technical mastery of the instrument, the discipline to practice, and the emotional and creative abilities necessary to ‘feel’ the music and let it flow through you.

 

In the same way that I’ve notice a relaxing of my personal goals for photography, I’ve experienced the same with my guitar playing. I remember spending weeks learning every note for Dire Straits’ Sultans of Swing. Eventually, I could pull off a pretty good Mark Knopfler, but it didn’t take long for me to forget what I’d learned. The problem was in the source of my motivation. I wanted to impress myself and others with my technical ability. I’d given little thought to the emotional element. The notes I played became almost perfect, but they had no feeling. I’d simply trained my muscle memory to press the right strings at the right fret at the right time.

Nowadays, I’m happy to pick a song with a few chords, great lyrics, and (when possible) a good melody. In other words, I pick songs because I like them and they are fun to play and sing. It’s great to finish off the day with a glass of wine and a few tunes. It’s even better to be outside with a campfire. My motivation is now one of personal enjoyment. I’m not trying to prove anything.

This rebalance of pleasure first and technique second is finding its way into most elements of my life. Photography is no exception. The more I learn to slow down, relax, enjoy, and do it for ‘me’, the more satisfaction I get. Strangely enough, I now find myself playing and singing in front of others much more than I have ever done and my photography is getting more attention than when I was overly focused on rules and technique.

Life lessons from music and photography.  It works for me