Cottonwood Narrows North
©Joe Bridwell
Before and After of shadowed, early morning scene where rocks stand on end. Cottonwood Canyon, Utah.
Before and After of shadowed, early morning scene where rocks stand on end. Cottonwood Canyon, Utah.
Apple of My Eye – Orange of My Camera
“I found several recent references to statements about the ethics of combining exposures for increased dynamic range, improved depth of field etc. primarily focused on the 'fact' that such images don’t represent what the human eye sees.
“Let’s be very clear here: cameras don’t see like people do. If you were to travel through life with eyes closed, opening them for a fraction of a second at a time, then closing them again, then such statements might have merit.
“In reality a brain image is perceived from a stream of information as eyes constantly move and adjust to gather information about various parts of the scene.
“In a sense you can think of the way the brain creates an image as constant stitching and blending of multiple frames in rapid succession. Seeing allows a person to be aware of detail in extreme highlights and shadows, swiftly covering an area far greater than a single ‘eye exposure’ could.”
Brain Teaser
Tal's comments have proved rather evocative.
While I'd read many pieces about the camera versus the eye, they were never stated in such a clearly contradictory anagram - Apple of My Eye – Orange of My Camera.
Sometimes, a word picture eventually takes me back over recent images. Something clicks, "Ah, now I can 'see' this image sequence in a new light!"
Often, this process occurs during rim sleep - that early morning, half awake state where the Muse comes to sit on my shoulder to help me create.
Cottonwood Narrows North
Cottonwood Canyon is northwest of Page, Arizona. A part of the Colorado Plateau flexed long ago; one side up, the other down. Along the long flexure, now Cottonwood Canyon, originally horizontal beds may become vertical. If they are multicolored, so much the better. If taken in a highly contrasting light, so much more the better.
Orange of My Camera
A static photograph starts off at a significant disadvantage when attempting to represent the process of seeing. In the Cottonwood Narrows case, it's the picture on the left (above). That's raw file capture of a Nikon D300.
Apple of My Eye
With 4 more images (-2 EV to +2 EV), I also captured high dynamic range. Using Merge to HDR in Photoshop CS4, I created an HDR image, then carefully tone mapped the high contrast rocks using tools of the Adjustments panel.
The dominant rock was red, but there were greens in the shrubbery and blue in the sky. In the initial raw file capture, these RGB colors seem muted.
But after tone mapping, the richness, the suggestive saturation, and the strong tonal patterns created an evocative, dramatic effect.
Standing Rocks
The combination of colors, the filigree of shadow and spire, the rich, red texture of the vertical rock layers, the slight flare of sunlight highlighting green shrubs - these are strong, provocative elements which become subtle Apples of My Eye.
Rather than identifying the final image by place-name (a geological custom), why not use its genesis for a name?
Me - I like Standing Rocks... a pleasure of enhanced tonal measure.
Now, all I have to do is learn to stop thinking of my camera as an Orange Crush!
Enjoy...
“I found several recent references to statements about the ethics of combining exposures for increased dynamic range, improved depth of field etc. primarily focused on the 'fact' that such images don’t represent what the human eye sees.
“Let’s be very clear here: cameras don’t see like people do. If you were to travel through life with eyes closed, opening them for a fraction of a second at a time, then closing them again, then such statements might have merit.
“In reality a brain image is perceived from a stream of information as eyes constantly move and adjust to gather information about various parts of the scene.
“In a sense you can think of the way the brain creates an image as constant stitching and blending of multiple frames in rapid succession. Seeing allows a person to be aware of detail in extreme highlights and shadows, swiftly covering an area far greater than a single ‘eye exposure’ could.”
Brain Teaser
Tal's comments have proved rather evocative.
While I'd read many pieces about the camera versus the eye, they were never stated in such a clearly contradictory anagram - Apple of My Eye – Orange of My Camera.
Sometimes, a word picture eventually takes me back over recent images. Something clicks, "Ah, now I can 'see' this image sequence in a new light!"
Often, this process occurs during rim sleep - that early morning, half awake state where the Muse comes to sit on my shoulder to help me create.
Cottonwood Narrows North
Cottonwood Canyon is northwest of Page, Arizona. A part of the Colorado Plateau flexed long ago; one side up, the other down. Along the long flexure, now Cottonwood Canyon, originally horizontal beds may become vertical. If they are multicolored, so much the better. If taken in a highly contrasting light, so much more the better.
Orange of My Camera
A static photograph starts off at a significant disadvantage when attempting to represent the process of seeing. In the Cottonwood Narrows case, it's the picture on the left (above). That's raw file capture of a Nikon D300.
Apple of My Eye
With 4 more images (-2 EV to +2 EV), I also captured high dynamic range. Using Merge to HDR in Photoshop CS4, I created an HDR image, then carefully tone mapped the high contrast rocks using tools of the Adjustments panel.
The dominant rock was red, but there were greens in the shrubbery and blue in the sky. In the initial raw file capture, these RGB colors seem muted.
But after tone mapping, the richness, the suggestive saturation, and the strong tonal patterns created an evocative, dramatic effect.
Standing Rocks
The combination of colors, the filigree of shadow and spire, the rich, red texture of the vertical rock layers, the slight flare of sunlight highlighting green shrubs - these are strong, provocative elements which become subtle Apples of My Eye.
Rather than identifying the final image by place-name (a geological custom), why not use its genesis for a name?
Me - I like Standing Rocks... a pleasure of enhanced tonal measure.
Now, all I have to do is learn to stop thinking of my camera as an Orange Crush!
1 comment:
Dear Joe and Denise,
I'm the park ranger you spoke with this morning at Bandelier, and I wanted to thank you again for all of your information and knowledge. I wish you the best of luck in your photography and I hope you got some great shots of Alcove House! If I'm ever able to get to the Bisti Badlands, I'll be sure to look you up.
Cheers,
Sarah
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