Tag: photography exploration

Conclusion: Reflecting on the Philosophy of Photography

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As we reach the end of A Photography Philosophy Series, I hope this journey has been as rewarding for you as it has been for me. Through these articles, we’ve explored the philosophy behind why we photograph—going beyond equipment and technique to dig into the heart of what makes photography so meaningful. Each theme in the series has shed light on a unique layer of photography, from capturing emotions to telling stories, reflecting identity, building connections, and even embracing impermanence.

We began with Why Do We Photograph?—a question that sits at the root of every image we capture. For some, photography is about preserving memories; for others, it’s about self-expression, documenting moments, or sharing perspectives. Over time, our reasons for photographing often shift and evolve, bringing more layers to our work as we grow. This first article set the tone for the series by reminding us that photography is a deeply personal journey, and our motivations shape each image we create.

Then we delved into The Emotions of Photography, exploring how images can carry feelings, from joy and nostalgia to solitude and contemplation. Photography allows us to express emotions that words often fail to capture, communicating through light, composition, and mood. Each photograph holds the potential to resonate with viewers in a way that feels both personal and universal, offering a window into the photographer’s emotional landscape.

The Art of Storytelling in Photography came next, where we looked at how images can create narratives—small windows into people, places, or moments that form part of a larger story. Photography has a remarkable way of capturing both detail and the bigger picture, allowing us to document stories that speak to shared experiences or unique perspectives. In a world full of words, photographs can often tell a story with a quiet eloquence.

In Identity and Self-Expression, we explored how photography offers a chance to express who we are and what we see. Our images inevitably reflect parts of ourselves—our backgrounds, our worldview, and our personal journey. For many, photography is as much a journey of self-discovery as it is a creative practice, helping us find our own voice and share it with others. Photography encourages us to see ourselves more clearly and to reveal something of that to the world.

Then came Connection Through Photography, a theme close to my heart. Photography, as we’ve seen, can forge connections—between photographer and subject, among fellow photographers, or with viewers who see something of themselves in the image. These connections remind us that we’re not alone in this world; they foster a sense of community, shared understanding, and empathy that goes beyond language. Photography has a unique power to unite us, even if only for a moment.

Lastly, we explored The Philosophy of Impermanence, where we reflected on the fleeting nature of each photograph. Every image captures a moment that can never be repeated, lending photography its unique poignancy. Impermanence reminds us to treasure the moment and see beauty in the transient. Photography, like life itself, is filled with unexpected moments, and it’s often the imperfections or mistakes that give images their authenticity and depth.

As we close, I invite you to reflect on your own photographic journey. What drives you to take photographs? Which themes resonate most with you—capturing emotions, telling stories, connecting with others, or perhaps embracing impermanence? These reflections aren’t just theoretical ideas; they form the personal philosophy that shapes how each of us approaches photography.

Ultimately, photography is about connecting with the world and each other through shared moments and meanings. If this series has encouraged you to think more deeply about your motivations, experiences, and the meaning behind your work, then I hope you’ll carry those reflections forward. Photography gives us a way to see, to understand, and to share in ways that words alone can’t.

Thank you for joining me on this exploration. I’d love to hear about your own experiences—what drives you, what connects you, and how photography shapes your view of the world. Let’s keep the conversation going and continue building a community of thoughtful photographers, one image at a time.

Photography Philosophy Part IV – The Art of Storytelling in Photography

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When I first started out in photography, I would go and get my film developed by the photographer on Newland Avenue near where I lived, and the photographer would do what people called a contact sheet.  Basically, the film was cut into strips, placed into a special frame to keep the negatives as flat as possible, and exposed directly onto a sheet of photographic paper.  These “thumbnails” allowed us to see the photos of the outing in one place and we could decide which ones might be worthy of developing.  

We have this digital contact sheet in Lightroom where we import our photos and decide which ones are worthy of being developed. It’s the same idea, just with different tools.

But what does this have to do with storytelling? Think of the contact sheet as the beginning of the story-crafting process. Just like a narrative needs a beginning, middle, and end, so too does our selection of images. With a contact sheet, we gain a bird’s-eye view of an outing—seeing not only the individual shots but how they relate to each other. Choosing which moments to develop isn’t just about technical quality; it’s about deciding which parts of the experience best tell the story.

This principle guides me when choosing photos to share here on the blog. Whether it’s capturing moments with my friend JD, the barber, or snapping a shot of my lunch before I dive in, each image plays a role in the day’s story, hoping that I don’t forget to take the photo of my dessert before eating it.  Otherwise you just get a photo of the plate with some traces of cake or just some crumbs.

But lets’s get back to the idea of story telling with an arc that covers the outing.  When I set out for the day, I begin with a few warm-up shots to set the scene. If I have a plan, great—but often I don’t. Instead, I focus on capturing the ambiance of my surroundings, whether it’s a café, church, or pub. Each photo builds on the last, creating a narrative of my day’s journey.

For events, especially when I’m hired to photograph, I’ll start by discussing the plan with my client. I want to know what’s important to capture, any specific conditions at the venue—lighting, mobility restrictions, etc.—and what moments they consider essential. Having this list of must-capture moments, like the classic Kodak moments that we talked about in the last article, helps me stay focused and give me structure.

For the sake of arguments, I have a wedding to photograph, and I know that I will be taking shots of the bride before the ceremony.  I know that I have to be at the venue before the happy couple arrives.  I’d better get a shot of the rings before they appear on the couples’ fingers, etc.  I’ll want environmental portraits of the guests, etc.  This planning ahead allows me to be more serene during the day itself.

newlyweds and their wedding bands
Just married

Not every story requires a series of images; sometimes, a single photograph can capture an entire narrative. Think of it as a self-contained story, a moment that holds not only what’s visible but also what’s implied—emotion, context, and sometimes, a sense of mystery.

For example, take a photograph of a lone, empty café table in the soft morning light, a half-full cup of coffee, and an open notebook on the table. This image can suggest solitude, introspection, or perhaps the moment right after someone has left. The viewer might wonder: Who was sitting here? Why did they leave? What were they writing? This photograph tells a story, inviting the viewer to step in and imagine the rest.

A single image can evoke different responses based on the viewer’s own experiences and emotions. In many ways, it’s a conversation between the photographer and the viewer. We as photographers might set the scene, choose the light, and capture the moment, but it’s the viewer who fills in the blanks, completing the story in their mind.

This approach also applies when photographing people. A portrait of a person lost in thought, gazing out of a window, can evoke curiosity about what’s on their mind, where they might be going, or what they’re experiencing at that moment. In these cases, the single image captures more than just a face or place; it holds an emotional narrative that transcends words.

my daughter contemplating cake
Am I sure about this cake?

Storytelling in photography isn’t just about taking pictures; it’s about deciding which moments matter and capturing them in a way that communicates more than what’s on the surface. Whether we’re crafting a narrative through a series of images or capturing an entire story in a single frame, each photo we take says something about how we see the world and what we want to share with others.

Next time you’re out with your camera, think about the story you’re building, whether it’s a quiet day at a café or a bustling event. What do you want your viewers to see, to feel, to wonder about? In some ways, we’re all storytellers—stringing together moments, big or small, to create something meaningful.

So, go on—look through your images as if they were frames in a film, each one a piece of a larger story. You might find that your perspective shifts, and that’s when photography becomes more than just a hobby; it becomes a way of understanding and connecting with the world.

A Photography Philosophy Series – Part I – An Introduction

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With the aim of delving deeper into the meaning behind photography, I’ve decided to launch a new series of articles. Here, I want to explore questions like why rather than just how or with what. In my Photography 101 series, we looked at the basics—technique, lenses, and so on. I’ve written extensively about gear in my camera reviews. But now, I’m searching for something beyond that.

The wheels in my mind are already beginning to turn. Not frenetically yet, but there’s a steady intellectual process underway. Answering “why” feels more challenging than “how” or “with what.” It demands more from me than simply focusing on technique or gear.

Here goes anyway!

To set the stage for this exploration, I’ll begin by sharing my own journey in photography. Understanding where I come from may help illuminate my perspective on the medium.

I was born in an age before the all-powerful image took over. Yes, we had photos, and I enjoyed looking through them in our albums. Each image was a physical object, and the idea of viewing images on a screen was foreign to us all. When we spoke of phones, we meant the ones hanging on the wall at home or in the phone boxes on the street. They certainly weren’t for taking photographs.

Back then, cameras fell into two categories: point-and-shoot cameras for the masses and “proper” cameras for photographers. Point-and-shoots were basic, easy to use, and, for me as a small child, they were an introduction to photography. Proper cameras, on the other hand, were for those who had learned the craft of photography, and using one made you feel part of a certain fraternity.

My first Form Master at prep school, Father Gerald, had a proper camera and recorded school life with it. Occasionally, a board with a selection of 6-by-4-inch photos would appear, always in black and white. Father Gerald must have had his own darkroom for developing and printing. I have no idea what kind of camera he used, but it was undoubtedly a proper one.

In 1984, a German orchestra visited Hull, and Stefan Haller from Neustadt an der Aisch stayed with us. Stefan had a proper camera, and I was fascinated by it. When I asked my father if I could have one too, he agreed—but I would have to learn how to use it first. The local YPI organized a summer school offering various activities, including proper photography. And that, Dear Reader, is how I first encountered this “proper photography” lark!

So now you know the why and how behind my beginnings in photography. Let’s look at how this journey evolved. My first proper camera was a Praktica MTL 3. It was fully manual and had a built-in light meter, which helped me get my exposure right each time—or nearly each time. With that camera, I trained my eye and explored the world around me.

Photography at the time was film photography. Although Kodak invented the digital camera in 1979, digital photography didn’t become accessible until the early 21st century. Growing up, color photography was for capturing moments with friends and having a laugh; black and white was considered more “arty” and suited for serious photography. I was deeply affected by the black-and-white images in newspapers, while color images seemed relegated to magazines.

I remember having breakfast with my father every morning as he read The Independent, a paper known for its high standard of photographic journalism. This was my daily visual inspiration. I had a subscription to National Geographic, where I encountered even more incredible photography in its pages. This was top-class photojournalism, and these images now serve as a historical reference for us all.

This is the time and place I come from. For young Gen Z readers, it might sound like ancient history, but to me, it’s deeply real and continues to influence my approach to photography in the digital age.

Now that you’ve had a glimpse into my why, let’s dive deeper. In the next article, we’ll look at why others feel compelled to pick up a camera. Throughout the series, we’ll explore the connections between images and emotions, how we tell stories through our photos, and how photography can be a form of self-expression leading to personal growth. We’ll examine how photography connects us to others, reflect on the philosophy of impermanence, and, at the end of the series, I’ll invite you, Dear Reader, to reflect on your own photographic journey…

Photography 101: Mastering the Fundamentals

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Why Photography?

Hello, Dear Reader,

I’ve decided to take some advice and start a series of articles focused purely on photography. You may already know how photography has impacted my life, and perhaps you’re hoping to discover something similar for yourself. This isn’t a formal course, and the advice I share comes from my own experiences over the years. My aim here is to offer you a useful reference point as you begin or continue your own photographic journey.

Let’s assume you’re new to photography and want to move beyond using your phone’s camera. You’re ready for a “real” camera. Does that sound about right?

From time to time, people approach me and say, “Ian, what’s the deal with photography? How do I get photos like yours?” That’s when my imposter syndrome likes to make an appearance. But despite that, I’m here to share what I know.

To begin, you’ll need a camera. I know it can feel overwhelming, especially if you’ve glanced at the price of a Leica and wondered if it’s worth selling a kidney. (Pro tip: hold off on that.) Leicas are beautiful, but you don’t need to break the bank to get started.

Any camera within your budget is a good starting point, especially if it allows you to control settings manually. Whether you choose film or digital, the fundamentals remain the same. Do you want the retro charm of a Canon AE1, the compact style of a Fujifilm X100F, or perhaps a more professional DSLR? The choice is yours, but remember: the camera is just a tool. It’s how you use it that matters. I’ve written some camera reviews you can check out, and I plan to add more in the future.

Now, let’s talk about the basics.

Exposure Basics

Photography is essentially about light—how much of it reaches your camera’s sensor (or film) and how it interacts with your subject. Too much light, and your image will be “overexposed” (too bright). Too little light, and it will be “underexposed” (too dark). You can, of course, play with these elements intentionally, using over- or underexposure to highlight specific areas of your shot. Photographers often talk about exposing for the highlights or shadows to get the right balance. In film photography we will expose for the shadows and in digital photography we expose for the highlights.

How do I control the light?

It all comes down to balancing three key elements, often called the “Exposure Triangle”: ISO, shutter speed, and aperture. Adjust one, and you’ll need to compensate with the others. Let’s go through each of these in turn.

Exposure triangle, showing the effects of aperture, shutter speed and ISO

Understanding ISO

ISO controls your camera’s sensitivity to light, crucial for getting the right exposure in your photographs. In film photography, it’s referred to as ASA, but the principle remains the same.

  • Lower ISO Settings (100-400): Ideal for bright conditions, such as sunny days, as they produce images with minimal grain or “noise.” For example, using ISO 100 outdoors on a clear day will give you crisp, clear shots.
  • Moderate ISO Settings (400-800): These settings are suitable for cloudy days or indoor lighting. Using ISO 400 allows you to capture good quality images without excessive grain, but expect some visibility of noise when using ISO 800 in dimmer conditions.
  • Higher ISO Settings (1600 and above): Perfect for low-light situations, such as indoors or nighttime photography. While ISO 1600 can help you capture images without a flash, be prepared for more noticeable grain. ISO 3200 can be used for very low light, but expect significant grain in the final image.

Modern digital cameras handle higher ISO settings much better than older film cameras did, significantly reducing noise even at higher values. The key takeaway is to experiment with different ISO settings to see how they affect your shots. Don’t hesitate to adjust your ISO based on the lighting conditions—higher sensitivity can make a big difference in capturing those special moments.

Shutter Speed

Shutter speed determines how long the sensor (or film) is exposed to light. A fast shutter speed—like 1/500th or 1/2000th of a second—will freeze motion, but it lets in less light, so you may need to increase your ISO to compensate. Slower shutter speeds (1/60th of a second or lower) let in more light but can cause motion blur or camera shake. If you’re handholding the camera, try to stay above 1/60th of a second. If you’re using a longer lens, say 85mm, you may want to use 1/100th of a second or faster to avoid shake.

For stability with slower shutter speeds, a tripod is your friend. Just bear in mind that vintage cameras often have lower maximum shutter speeds, but those quirks deserve their own chapter.


Aperture and depth of field

Aperture controls how wide the lens opens to let light in, and it’s measured in f-stops. A smaller f-stop number (like f/2.0) means a wider aperture, which lets in more light and creates a shallower depth of field—ideal for those portraits with a soft, blurry background. A higher f-stop (like f/16) means a smaller aperture, which lets in less light but keeps more of the scene in focus—perfect for landscapes.

Aperture not only affects the amount of light coming through but also how much of your image appears sharp. The trick is finding the right balance for the look you’re aiming to achieve.

Conclusion

One of the great things about digital cameras is that you can experiment with these settings without worrying about the cost of film. You can see the results immediately and make adjustments on the fly. Most digital cameras offer different modes to help you control the exposure. For example, “Shutter Priority” lets you set the shutter speed while the camera adjusts the other settings. “Aperture Priority” does the same for aperture. If you’re more experienced, you can take full control with manual mode.

This is just the first in a series of articles designed for beginners, but it’s always helpful for even the more seasoned among us to revisit the fundamentals. If you have questions, feel free to leave a comment. No question is too simple, and I’ll do my best to respond.

Until next time, Dear Reader.

Post Scriptum

I’ve noticed many of you arrive at this site through this page (probably from Google), so welcome! This is just the first in a broader series on photography. If you found this article helpful, there’s more where this came from. I also cover topics like composition, gear choices such as the Pentax ME Super, which as its name suggests is rather Super, the differences between 35mm and medium format, and my approach to street photography.

My aim is to demystify photography. It doesn’t have to be complicated. Whether you’re just starting out or already have some experience, I hope you’ll find something useful here. Thanks for reading, and don’t hesitate to ask questions or leave a comment. I look forward to hearing from you.