Mark Cassino Photography - Mark's Blog

Good new arrived Saturday with notification that two of my photos have been accepted into the Maryland Federation of Art Sixth Annual American Landscapes exhibit, which will be running at the MFA Circle Gallery, in Annapolis from September 8 through October 14, 2006. I had a piece in the fourth exhibit (did not get in last year) and had a great time visiting Annapolis.

I consider my landscape work to be the most serious stuff I shoot. I don’t shoot that much of it, and prsent even less mostly because the opportunity isn’t there and it's hard to do. It’s not that I’m not out working, or that I forget my cameras or something – it’s rare that the land speaks to me coherently, showing me the shot to be taken. It get incoherent messages all the time, and unlike the “Outer Limits” the problem is definitely with the receiver….

Doing landscapes in the Midwest is not an easy task – you don’t have grand panoramic scenes, fabulous mountains, or other natural wonders that are slam dunks for landscape shooters. During my recent trip to North Carolina I felt like Gomer Pile, saying “Golly – look at those mountains.” Mountains, valleys, canyons, gorges, heck – even lighthouses – all offer some degree of pizzazz to an image. The subject is possibly the most basic aspect of any photo, and Mount Rushmore will usually have more impact than, say, Michigan’s Bald Mountain, no matter what.

Let’s face it – shooting landscapes in the Midwest means a lot of flat plains, loads of trees, and a sun that sometimes shines, but often hides behind a thick layer of clouds.

If a task is worth doing, it’s worth doing because it is difficult. Granted, “difficult” is a relative measure. In the Midwest you generally don’t need to engage in heroics to reach a spot, and you are generally not threatened by the elements as you try to shoot (nautical photography being a notable exception.)

But then, all around the world rare and inaccessible places are becoming less rare and more accessible every day. A couple generations ago the Everglades were a true wilderness, now they are a tourist attraction. Denali was once a remote frontier, now it is an air fare and hotel ticket away. I’d suspect that here in the modern world it’s all pretty easy to get to where you want to go whenever you want to get there. Which is no doubt why some of the prime photographic locations in the great national parks out west have photographers lined up dozens deep, all shooting the same old shot.

That’s why the Midwestern landscape beckons to me. They are seldom high impact, rarely superficial, and really break your back as a photographer. You have to find the place with a bit of something, take a lot of shots, go back to the same place over and over and over to work the nuance – and what you get is something that most people will look at and say “huh…”

Well, Nietzsche once wrote:

“Slack and sleeping senses must be addressed with thunder and heavenly fireworks. But the voice of beauty speaks gently; it creeps only into the most awakened souls. Gently trembled and laughed my shield today; that is the holy laughter and tremor of beauty.” (Walter Kaufmann Translation, Penguin Books.)

Well, Nietzsche tended to get overly dramatic, but his point is well taken. To see the beauty in a brownfield - or a little spit of midwestern woods or prairie - is an attribute of the awakened consciousness.

And so I’m proud and honored to have Weedy Sassafras and Use and Lose represented in the Maryland show. I have been a stranger to the old farmstead in the latter shot, but frequently visit the bit of oak savanna where Weedy Sassafras was shot, and it’s one of the few areas of the maze like woods where I don’t need the GPS, because I recognize each tree individually.

Yesterday I decided to visit the Pierce Cedar Creek Institute for Environmental Education to check out the opportunities for some general insect photography. Despite its high sounding name, the Pierce Creek Institute is basically a nature preserve, with hundreds of acres of forest, restored prairie areas, and wetlands. An extensive trail system covers the grounds, and in an afternoon (if you hike quickly) you can cover all sorts of terrain and microenvironments.

I’ll be conducting a photography workshop at Pierce Creek next Saturday, focusing on summer photographic subjects. This is a follow up on the winter photography workshop we held last January – and hopefully the weather and subject matter will be more inviting.

Once again, the weather did not cooperate. The day was predicted to be sunny and hot, but was overcast, muggy, and hazy in the morning. I drove out to Pierce Creek (about 45 minutes from Kalamazoo) in hopes that things would clear by the time I arrived – but it took over an hour until, at around noon, the sun finally started to break through and temperatures soared.

 The restored prairie areas were thick with dragonflies and other insects. As usual, the challenge was to get a good shot with a clean background – and also as usually the perching pennant dragons were the easiest to work with.

The forested areas were, as expected, must less productive. There were a few clearings where I crawled around after meadowhawks (later to realize I was crawling in poison-ivy), but in general the prairie areas were by far the most productive.

Aside from the dragonflies the most interesting observations of they day included an American Painted Lady, Giant Swallowtail, and Cicada Killer – who was foraging on a Queen Ann’s Lace Flower and wasn’t out killing cicadas at all.

More photos:

Halloween Pennant Dragonfly:

 

 

 

Giant Swallowtail:

 

Cicada Hunter:

One bright morning
when my work is over
man will fly away home
-Rastaman Chant

Be Thou Light issuing forth out of Darkness,
I am Darkness issuing forth out of Light,
Yea, Issuing Forth from Thee...
-Ahab, addressing the Whale.

These days it seems like I’m spending a lot of time waiting for the next interesting photo to come along. I don’t think its because I’m a worser photographer than before. Its more that my standards and expectations have risen. The exciting images come less frequently, simply because they are harder to attain.

An they come from unexpected quarters as well. I’m really pretty happy with “One Bright Morning” shown here. I just snapped it with a new junk camera sometime in the last few weeks, while roaring down the highway through a patch of fog.

Some folks might argue that its more of a graphic than a photograph. Granted – after scanning the film I subject the curves to some mighty manipulation in Photoshop. But I still shot this on film, spooled it onto developing rolls, dropped it into the tank, mixed up the developer, and took it through all the steps.

I don’t think the digital manipulation is any more profound than what a good darkroom expert could achieve. Man Ray could create this effect blindfolded (though being blindfolded in the darkroom is a bit redundant.) But I basically slapped the curves around to simulate a solarization effect, one that I believe would be achievable using a combination of film solarization and print solarization. But then, what do I know about the darkroom?

At any rate – the big beef real artists have about photographers is that it is a ‘mechanical art.’ Inherently representational, in photography you take what you get (er... maybe that’s ‘you get what you take.’) Well – either way, you are not creating it from scratch, its more about recording. So in a sense digital manipulation opens the doors to more creative, less mechanical and representative work.

Nonetheless, I like this shot. I added the red border around the black and white photo, just because black, white, and red are a pleasing color combination. Red is outside the photo’s frame, because the Work is incomplete.

I was thinking of the Wailers’ song when I took this shot, but after looking that the print, and the darkenss around the sun, the quote from Moby Dick came to mind, and both resonate with my feelings on the shot.

Ah – one bright morning...

A few weeks ago I headed over to Riets flea market in Lawton, Michigan. This is a big, sprawling market that covers several acres. It’s best visited on a hot summer day, when the dust kicks up in little whirl-winds and your judgment about purchases and haggling is clouded by the relentless summer sun.

I’ve been heading to Riets for over 20 years. My wife hates the place, so I usually go alone. The market has transformed over those years. Back in the 1980’s there were a lot more vendors just offering miscellaneous stuff. Many of the ‘booths’ (they are really just tables out in the sun) were sort of like mobile garage sales – odds and ends, this and that, things like Pogo bubble bath containers, ash trays, and empty collector editions liquor bottles.

These days you see much more professional displays – maybe sunglasses, T-Shirts, socks (lots of socks!), tools or CD’s.

Twenty years ago no one sold food at the flea market – expect perhaps for one or two vendors who sold huge bags an Vandalia onions. These days there are a lot of food vendors, selling the dry boxed goods you find at your local super market. There are also purveyors of nutritional supplements and other consumables.

Personally, I miss the vendors who sell miscellaneous odds and ends. Though there are sill enough of them to make the trip worthwhile, they seem to be a dying breed. And increasingly the odds and ends are rifles, knives, and swords – not the kind of rich home grown stuff you look for are a flea market.

But my recent trip to Riets was productive. I bought several boxes of weather stripping at a fraction of the price I would pay at Walmarts or some other discount chain. I also picked up an 8 mm movie camera, a Keystone Americana. It only has one lens (apparently of three) still attached to it. I bought it in hopes of using the one lens – a 9mm f 1.8 wide angle – for some macro photography projects. But, if that doesn’t work I can always just wind up the camera and listen to the clicka-clicka-clicka-clicka of its drive – a most pleasant sound indeed. 

But the real find of the day was a wonderful junk camera – a Vivitar IC 101 Panoramic 35mm camera – complete with plastic focus free lens.

As junk cameras go, the Vivitar is a real Cadillac. Unlike, say, the Special Moments Focus Free camera, the Vivitar is small, compact, and solidly built. It features a frame counter – a tremendous luxury for a camera of this class. It also has a protective lens cover, that locks the exposure button so you can’t take accidental shots (maybe not such a great feature). It also has a curved back plate – apparently an attempt to correct for some of the spherical aberrations caused by the focus free lens. I have an old Ansco Ready Flash that also has a curved back. You can only wonder what the results would be if the back were flat, but as it is the images are still plenty distorted.

The really exciting thing about this camera, though, is that it is P-A-N-O-R-A-M-I-C. Well, sort of. Following the fad of a decade or so ago, this camera crops the top and bottom off the 35mm frame, creating a panoramic aspect ratio.

Now, you might wonder why you shouldn’t shoot a regular 35mm frame, and do the cropping yourself. It could be just as panoramic, you wouldn’t loose any film area, and heck, if you wanted a non-pano shot, you’d have that option.

Beats me why these cameras exist at all (though even my old Pentax Pz-1p sports an optional ‘panoramic’ mode.) But the real advantage of the Vivitar camera is that the finder also is in pano mode, and the lens is truly a wide angle – based on comparisons with ‘real’ 35mm cameras, it looks like the Vivitar is in th 28 to 24mm focal length range (along the long axis, of course.)

I purchased the camera for $2. When I got home I loaded it with Adox Chm 400, and over the next couple of days shot away with it.

My first surprise came while loading this initial roll of film onto the developing spool. It started winding on just fine, but after a while the spooling action stopped, and as I felt around I realized that the film was sliced, lengthwise, almost right down the middle. I wound up snipping the film off, and found that the last third of the roll was indeed sliced right down the middle. The second roll (Neopan 400) didn’t have this problem, so I ass

At any rate, this is a great camera.ume it was due to my un-gentle rewinding of the first roll of film.

More photos:

 

 

 

 I’ve been waiting for the cicadas to arrive. Until this week, the trees were quiet. Earlier this week I saw a cicada sitting on my garage wall. They are unusual creatures – long and graceful wings on a stubby body with bulging eyes. I had to get to work, so I didn’t get a photo. Late that afternoon I heard the first whirling call of a cicada coming from the sickly maple in the back year – maybe the insect I saw that morning was singing up there that afternoon. Now there are more cicadas and their songs swirl through the summer afternoons, a sign that the summer has peaked, and is tipping back towards fall and ultimately winter.

I think about the 44th hexagram of the I Ching – “there is wind below heaven” – what was ripe is over ripe, what was growing has reached it’s apex, where there is life, there is decay.

This older photo – “High Summer” – is probably my best attempt at articulating these feelings. But articulated or not, it’s hard not to feel the subtle shift of the earth’s axis that takes place this time of year.

 This week, for a change of pace, I planned to head out to the Piece Cedar Creek Institute, a nature preserve near Delton, Michigan. But it rained on Thursday – a band of heavy precipitation rolling in off the lake around dawn and working its way to the south east. By 9 am Allegan was out of the rain, which was still building strength at my planned destination – so I changed plans and headed back to the familiar Allegan Forest.

 Although the rain had stopped, the earth and fields were still soaked. I stopped at some familiar places – I saw a drenched bee who looked like she needed a mini blow dryer.

One interesting subject was a Wood Nymph (alas - the butterfly, not a real nymph). The butterfly flew off when I appoached it and took refuge under a log - where it patiently allowed me to snap away at it.

 I wound up heading down to Swan Creek. There were lots of Canada Geese hanging out in the parking lot, and back along the trails. They languidly walked away as I approached, and as I followed them in I increasingly smelled a fishy odor, which grew to an outright stench as I reached the small dam. There were dozens of dead trout floating in the water – I’m not sure what would have caused the die-off, but I never saw so many dead fish here before.

Except for the flies, there are still few insects around the creek. After hiking around for a while – hoping to find some dragonflies or damselflies – I decided to call it day and headed back home. 

More Photos:

Hairstreak Butterfly:

Well, I saw a lot of trees today and they were all made of wood.

They were wooden trees and they were made entirely of wood - Laurie Anderson, Walk the Dog

I see a lot of trees. I like looking at trees. I don’t think the trees have any feeling one way or the other about this.

But I take a lot of photos of trees, especially when I’m in the forest. The forests I visit have a lot of small trees, so it’s hard to find the ones that really stand out and say “Take my picture!”

I’m refocusing on taking photos of trees, simply because I love looking at them and can’t find an easy, straight forward way to make them work in photographs. The woods I visit have lots of smaller trees, lots of trees that look a like, are all about the same size, all grew up together.

It’s a beautiful sight when the sunlight dodges between the trees, playing tag with itself. The small trees are so unpretentious – no denizens who stood while ancient civilizations fell, these are just weedy saplings that cropped up when the land was clear cut, and have managed to eek out an existence. Lots of them all a like, shoulder to shoulder, just getting by from day to day. These are trees I can relate to.

I have a lot of negatives in sleeves, mostly medium format, mostly of trees. The notebooks stack up to be a few feet high, and a few of the images have made it out to the website or even into physical prints.

But the trees here are elusive, and that’s saying something since they can’t move or otherwise change their appearance. It is the quintessential quandary of photography – how to capture a two dimensional image that speaks to the essence of what you see in the real time real world.

Well, I have another pile of negatives to go through, and the B&W shot at the top of this page is the first promising image I’ve been able to cull out so far. Just to do something different, I shot an ancient and long expired roll of 35mm Kodak EPR 64, cross processed it in C41 chemistry, and then inverted the images and color corrected them to produce cyan toned images. So along with the medium format film, a few cyan images of trees are presented. I like the look, and it might be a project worth continuing with other slide films.

Tomorrow I will be shooting more trees. I’ve taken a day job and only have one weekday a week to shoot, and so far have been adapt at picking the rainy day to go out. But rain or shine, I will see a lot of trees tomorrow.

“Do one thing, do it well” is great advice, and I’d like to think that here at CalArti and www.markcassino.com, that advice is fully demonstrated. Whether taking digital infrared, using a toy camera, shooting a close up of an insect, experimenting with cross processing, taking micro photographs of snow crystals, or shooting medium format B&W landscapes – I’m just doing one thing – and I like to think I’m doing it well.

For a long time I thought I was doing many things. After all, the techniques and subject matter in the photos on this site run a wide gamut. I’ve often been advised to specialize – “Be the bug guy!” being the most usual refrain. I’ve even atteneded worshops where people try to tell you how to ‘define your brand identity’ – which seems to mean narrowing your focus down to one, predictable, outcome.

Branding may not be just for cattle anymore, but it still leaves a lot to be desired. Anyone engaged in creative pursuits has to ultimately ask themselves why, and if the answer is to ‘create a brand identity to maximize revenue’ then they have truly picked a frustrating path. With rare exception, the arts are a generally inefficient means of accumulating capital.

And yet, when push comes to shove, I’ve always felt that my photography has been highly centered, and focused on doing one thing. On a good day, behind the camera, I experience what Aleister Crowley meant by “knowing your own true will.” I indeed feel the momentum of the universe behind me – whether focusing in on a snow flake, spending an hour getting just the right shot of a wildflower, or intuiting the best time, temperature, and agitation scheme for the film shot earlier in the day. It is that sense of connection to something beyond myself that keeps me going – and that connection is independent of outcomes. Product, or results.

On a good day, that is....

“Do one thing, do it well…”

Great words - but more often, the real meaning behind them is "Get a shtick."

The definition of this word is at the top of this essay, and it’s worthy of consideration. In a sense, ‘shtick’ is “do one thing, do it well” reduced to it’s most basic, simplistic, formulistic element. A shtick with kitsch makes for a powerful combination in the artistic world, especially when focused around the goal of establishing a ‘brand identity.’

The Beatles did one thing, and they did it well. They made outstanding music that not only captured the spirit of their generation, but continues to speak to people of all ages, all around the world. On the other hand, the Bachman Turner Overdrive had a great shtick – they produced formulaic music that sounded great the first few times you heard it, but eventually wore thin. They managed to tap into the spirit of a few years in which they played, and then faded off, producing ‘brand identifiable’ songs that, well, just sounded like the last song. And yet BTO was a successful brand.

A non artistic example: When you read about Henry Ford, you generally read about his shtick – he ‘invented’ the production line, you could get any color Model T you wanted (so long as it was black), and he was driven by a vision of providing transportation to the working class.

All this is true, but it misses the distinction between Ford and his competitors, who focused on providing high priced automobiles to the elite and affluent.

Ford’s contribution was to revolutionize industrial society, freeing it from the mindset that people were best exploited by being kept in proverty, like serfs or peons. With his $5 a day wage for caucasian workers, he expolored the great opportunities of exploiting people as middle class consumers. Ford helped built modern economy where indentured workers live lives of relative opulence, subduing their sense of outrage, while being so in debt as to be even more penniless than the serfs and slaves of bygone eras. His contribution - his 'one thing done well' goes far beyond the shtich of the Ford brand. And his efforts certainly improved the maerial lot of many.

So – what does all this mean to the struggling photographer? Do you pick a subject or style, drop a claim on some sort of brand identity, and hope that the shtick works? Or do you do what you will, shoot as you wish, and let the chips fall where they may?

Clearly, the path to commercial success is via the shtick. A dash of kitsch will usually help you along the way as well. In the cacophony of voices all competing for attention, the most focused message will clearly win out.

But personally, I plan to follow my heart – which seems to be beating a path of its own. So in this photoblog I’ll be putting up whatever the heck I’m shooting, so long as it contributes to my personal goal of understanding the world just a bit more, just a bit better.

It won’t result in a coherent brand image, it won’t even result in an predictable shtick. Maybe it’s a road to getting truly focused, maybe it’s a waste of time. But as Iggy Pop put it – “I don’t need no heavy trips, I just do what I want to do.” And for now, that’s enough.

Yesterday I headed out to the Allegan Woods in hopes of getting some new insect photos. The weather forecast was for hazy, hot, and humid weather as the first serious heat wave of the summer finally rolls in. So I also brought my few rolls of infrared film, hoping to have a chance to work with it as well.

I decided to start the day in a field down by the river, near the Ottawa Marsh boat launch. So I took M89 across the Kalamazoo river, and then headed north us 46th street.

Before getting to the boar launch, I stopped at an open field packed with knapweed in full bloom. The weather seemed to be falling in line with predictions, except for some dark clouds to the southwest. I stepped out of the car to wander through the field with my insect close-up rig.

It can take an hour or longer to work a good sized field. In regards to subject matter, particularly insects, you can never assume that the area you step into will be representative of the whole locale. The edges of a field, if bordered by woods, are invariably different than the center. I f a road runs borders the field – even a little dirt road like 46th street – that area will be different than those deeper in. So I started my normal routine – walk along two edges of the square field, when it meets the forest, and then take the diagonal back through the center, winding up back at the car.

The field was a riot of blue knapweed flowers, with some grasses, dried vetch, and dead coreopsis mixed in. A few orange clumps of butterfly weed and clusters of black eyed Susans were the only other blooming flowers.

The dull thud of shot gun fire punctuated the morning air, no doubt someone out in another field either shooting skeet, or just shooting for the fun of it.

Shortly after I started wandering into the field, the wind picked up and a lot of the flying insects took to keeping low, hugging the vegetation. I saw some tiny eastern tailed blues – maybe1/4th to ½ inch in size at most, and I wondered if some of the other blue butterflies I had captured thus far this summer were really this species, as opposed to being either some sort of small hairstreak, blue, or azure. I also spotted a few spicebush butterflies and monarchs out among the knapweed flowers.

As I was turning to make the walk through the center of the field, the weather made a dramatic change. The clouds rolled in, it got dark (dropped over 3 ev per the camera meter) and the haze briefly turned to mist that wafted in from the forest, passed over the open field, and disappeared within minutes. But now the sun was gone, and the temperatures were decidedly cooler. As I walked back through the field a light ran began to fall.

Walking back I saw a common garter snake, larger than I recall having ever seen one before. As I spent the next several hours in other fields in the drizzling rain, I saw several other garter snakes – I guess the moisture must bring them out.

I headed back along 126th Ave as the rain picked up. I figured that I could scout out some new areas and hopefully wait the rain out. I tooled around 126th, and then the Old Allegan Road, and found a few promising sites. I wound up heading back toward M89 on 48th street. I was disappointed to see that one of my favorite two-tracks heading back into the woods / savanna was now gated shut and barridcaded, so I decided to get out and walk in along the road.

Here I saw a lone Karner Blue flitting amid the dry grass stalks. I walked a ways along with the road, with just a light rain dropping, when suddenly a steady hard rain developed. I always keep a plastic bag in my belt pack (the kind you get at virtually every type of store these days) so I dropped the camera into it, and walked back through the rain.

At this point I called it a day and headed home – which work out well with the weather, as it would rain heavily for the rest of the afternoon.

More Photos:

Karner Blue Butterflies:

 

Eastern Tailed Blue

 

Bumble Bee

I first became interested in photography in 1997. Prior to that, I had started experimenting with Corel Photopaint (starting with version 2). I used Corel to create digital collages of images I scoured off the internet, or off of royalty free stock CD’s. My interest in photography was first piqued when I coun’t find a simple image of some bricks that I wanted to use in a composition, and so I se

t out to figure out how to take images, convert them to a digital format, and work with them in Corel.

Those were simple times in terms of technology. I started with a 33 mhz 486 with 12 megabytes of ram, but ultimately worked my way up to an AMD 5x86-150, with a whopping 24 megabytes of memory. I found Corel Photopaint – versions 3, 4, 6 (the great leap forward!) and ultimately 7, and 9 to be up to the task for making collages. In fact, I still revert to Photopaint over Photoshop when doing this kind of work.

My initial goal was to create a series of collages that would express the essence of the Emerald Tablet of Hermes Trsimegistus, a cornerstone of alchemical philosophy. As a stepping stone towards this great work, I thought I’d start out with four simple compositions, depicting the basic elements that are the starting point for alchemical thought.

I got through all four, though my rendition of Air sucked. I realized that I needed to take charge of gathering my own source data, and so I bought my first SLR cmaera, and started to learn about photography.

Then came some computer crashes and other disruptions and interference, and before I knew it my collages were lost and I was merrily clicking along with the camera, happily figuring out how to photograph birds, bugs, snowflakes, and other stuff. 

But the original project always remained at the back of my mind.

A few months ago I dusted off my old Iomega Zip drive, and went through the torturous process of copying all of the readable 100 meg disks to a spare PC. (Anyone who has ever worked with a parallel port 100mb Zip Drive knows why the term 'tortuous' comes to mind.) Sifting through the digital debris, I found an archived copy of Water, and a copy of Fire.

Water and Earth were my favorite creations in this early series. Fire is OK, and as I said, Air never really made the grade. All I have of my original Earth image is a single 8 x 10 inkjet print. But I dusted off the surviving two digital images, and started re-working Earth. A decade after starting the project, something new was stirred into the pot, with a new interpretation of earth.

This isn't photography, it’s more or less abstract art. (Fire is weakest because it is too representational.) You may well say its all just crap.

But here it is 2006 – about this time a decade ago I started working on this project. After sojourning in the land of the nature photographer for all this time - a clean, well lighted place, for sure - maybe it’s time to return to something more serious. Maybe it’s time to stop making duplicate images of dragonflies, differentiated only by the day and month in which they were shot, and set myself towards some other purpose. Well, maybe a new task beckons, but my red is muddied, and my white is dingy grey. As I write this a storm is rolling in, the wind has risen and then thunder speaks. The rain cascades down - but here is no water, only rock.

On Friday I headed out to the Allegan Forest, once again pursuing insects. Due to other commitments, the time I have available for shooting has been reduced, so a weekly trip out is now about the best I can hope for. So I decided to devote as much of the day as possible to insect and landscape shooting, and headed out early in the morning, staying out until late afternoon.

It’s been dry in west Michigan lately, and the sandy soil in Allegan county results in a quick run off of the rain that does fall. Early in the week the area received a good soaking from a large thunderstorm, and that seems to have brought things back to life a bit. The butterfly weed and knapweed are now in full bloom, drawing in more fritillaries and lots of hairstreaks, blues, coppers and sulphurs.

I started out north of the Kalamazoo river, and worked several large fields between M89 and M43. There were lots of dragonflies and other insects, along with the abundant butterflies. The male Halloween Pennants are assuming the black and orange coloration that comes with maturity, and that’s a sure sign that the summer is advancing.

While north of the river I stumbled on an adult Ant Lion – and insect I don’t recall having ever seen before (and certainly have never photographed.)

I then headed across the river and into some fields to the south. These are areas where the lupine is usually tick in the spring, and where Karner Blue butterflies, along with other interesting species, can usually be found. This year, due in part to the dry weather and in part to a late spring frost, the Karner population is down. During the course of the day I encountered and photographed one Karner Blue, the only firm sighting I’ve made this summer (see above). There were several blue butterflies flitting about the field, and based on the way that they flew they quite possibly were Karners, but I did not pursue them for a closer look.

I wrapped up the day with some B&W landscape medium format landscape work. Shooting the woods in high summer is a challenge. The repetition and patterns of the trees dappled with sunlight is compelling, but difficult to capture on film in any meaningful way. Well, I have several rolls yet to develop, and perhaps a new post will arise from that activity.

More Photos:

Halloween Pennants:

I’ve been shooting a lot of infrared these days, and feel that some of my best recent work has been accomplished through the use of digital infrared techniques. This is a fairly new technique for photography – up till recently infrared work was done on film. So here’s a tutorial that covers the technique that I use to create infrared images with my Pentax *ist-D.

I should start out with the caveat that there are many different ways to take digital infrared photographs. The technique I use is one that I more or less stumbled upon by happen chance – I happened to acquire an infrared filter, and chanced to use it on the *ist-D in a way that worked. But different digital cameras have different sensitivity to infrared light, and there are many different types of infrared filters out there that, for all I know, might work better than the Hoya RM90 filter that I use. So, as the saying goes, your mileage may vary.

So just what is infrared light anyhow? The technical definition is that it is electromagnetic radiation close to but outside of the visible light spectrum. Infrared light is just beyond the red end of the spectrum of visible light – meaning that IR light has a longer wavelength than visible light. To get even more technical, the human eye can see light in the (approximately) 400 – 700 nanometer range. Infrared light lies beyond that, consisting of frequencies of 700 to 1000 nanometers.

The characteristics of infrared light contribute to the look and feel of IR photos. For example, due to the long wavelength of IR light, it is less prone to be dispersed by airborne dust particles. As a result, a clear blue sky will appear deep black in IR shots. IR light also reflects off foliage, resulting in what Ansel Adams described a “plaster white trees” in infrared photos.

In general, infrared photography is best accomplished on bright, clear days. Due to it long wavelength, infrared light can penetrate some barriers – like haze – but also can be blocked completely by others. After doing a lot of IR shooting, both with film and digitally, I still find it very difficult to predict how certain scenes – especially when shooting under foliage – will come out.

The CCD or CMOS sensors in digital cameras are generally sensitive to infrared light, but they also have infrared blocking filters incorporated into their design, apparently so the IR light will not interfere with normal photography. While you can have the IR filters removed from you digital camera, this will render the camera pretty much a dedicated IR device. Some day, when my *ist-D is obsolete for regular shooting, I plan to take that approach. But in the meantime I prefer to work around – or perhaps through – the build in anti-infrared filter.

 To do this, I use a Hoya RM90 infrared filter. This filter allows transmission of light from the (roughly) 750 – 3000 nanometer range. (There is actually diminished transmission of frequencies out to ~4700 nm.) This is the heart of infrared, and completely outside of the visible light spectrum. In fact, as shown by the image of the filter, the glass in the filter is jet black. So once it is attached to the lens, you are truly working with ‘invisible light.’

While the *ist-D has a built in infrared blocking filter, it is not 100% effective. For my infrared work I frame up the shot, attach the RM90 filter, and set the camera to manual mode. The camera actually reads and responds to the IR light passing through the filter, and the meter shows an exposure setting and the autofocus works quite well.

The ability to have autofocus through the IR filter is a real boon. Infrared light focuses to a different point behind the lens than does visible light. Good lenses (and most older lenses) have an IR focus guide on them. The idea is that you focus the camera using the visible light, and then adjust the focal point back to the point indicated by the IR focus guide. Since the *ist-D’s autofocus is working off only IR light, it focuses accurately right from the start.

The camera’s autoexposure meter, however, is not as accurate with IR light. In my experience, the camera will suggest and exposure setting that is at least 3 to 4 stops under exposed. You are also facing very long exposure times at high ISO settings when shooting digital infrared. My starting point, with the RM90 in place, it to set the camera to manual mode, and start exposures at ISO 1600, f16, 2 seconds shutter speed.

Depending on the actual lighting, the shutter speed at ISO 1600, f 16, can vary from 0.3 seconds to 15 seconds. While that may sound like an amazingly long exposure, it’s not that much longer than the exposures demanded by some IR films. The old Konica IR 750, for example, with a #25 red filter had an effective ISO of 6 (taking into account the filter-factor.) That’s about 1 stop from the starting point for the digital IR setup I’m using, and as Konica and all other film producers like to say when it comes to infrared – “bracket widely.”

The nice thing about shooting digitally is that you can look at the histogram and see how the exposure worked out. So, like I said I start out at 2 seconds, f16, ISO 1600, and see what the histogram shows. On a bight clear day that starting point will probably be over exposed, and on an over cast day that starting point might be a stop or two under exposed.

In any a case, forget about getting a histogram that shows a full tonal range from black to white. It just doesn’t happen – at least with my setup. Instead I get a compressed histogram, and a monochrome image. Once the photo is taken, a fair degree of post exposure processing remains to be done.

Here is a shot of “Thunderheads Over Mount Pisgah” – the first image (the magenta one) is the off the camera, unadjusted digital IR shot. The second image has been processed in PhotoShop.

 

The post exposure processing is really pretty simple. The image first mush be desaturated (turned to B&W). The white and black points must be set to punch up the contrast in the image. After that, its just the normal routine of dodging and burning to get the look you want

There are still some pitfalls to the whole digital IR process. First off, noise can be an issue. A 2 or 4 second exposure at ISO 1600 is bound to be fairly noisy. I rely on the camera’s build in noise reduction to deal with most of this, and apply dust and scratches or other noise reducing filters as a last resort.

Second is the issue of sensor flare. This is where light bounces around or flares within the digital sensor assembly itself. Just like with lens flare, the result is a bright spot in the image. Here are two examples:

In the first one you can see a huge arch of flare cutting through the right side of the image. In the second you can a smaller line of flare running parallel to the bottom edge of the image, and just a short distance above the bottom.

I loose about 20% of my digital IR images to this phenomenon, and I’m not sure what exactly causes it. I do know that it seems to be related to the angle of the camera to the sun, and to either the length of the exposure or f stop setting. By opening up the aperture and using a shorter exposure, the flare usually diminishes or disappears altogether.

So to sum up the steps I use when shooting digital infrared with the *ist-D and RM90 filter – 

1. Compose the shot with the IR filter off the camera (since you won’t be able to see through it once it’s mounted.) 2. Mount the IR filter, let the AF handle focusing (since it will need to adjust the focal point to compensate for the IR light.) 3. Start as ISO 1600, f16, 2 seconds. Look that the histogram and adjust as needed. 4. Process the RAW file by desaturating, and then setting the white and black points to compensate for the compressed tonal range. 5. Apply anti-noise filter if needed, and make normal image adjustments.

The really nice thing about digital IR is that, with the digital filter in the pack, you always have the infrared option open to you as a creative choice. That is something harder to achieve when dealing with finicky, perishable, and difficult to handle IR films!

Yet another summer is reaching its apex in west Michigan, as summers have for millions of years before and (hopefully) for millions of years to come.

This summer has turned out to be dry. The drought has snuck up on us – a while back I commented on walking through a wetlands that in years past would have been impassible. Now the last spit of the swamp there is nothing but a cracking mud puddle. The grass has gone from green to amber, and driving down dirt roads leaves a cloud of dust behind the car that hangs in the air longer than it should.

Over the last few days I’ve hit the Allegan forest and the local McLinden nature trails, hoping to work on dragonflies and other insects. I also hoped to build up my Karner Blue portfolio a bit.

The dry weather has laid a heavy hand on the natural world. Last summer the Oak Savannas in the Allegan forest were thick with Spicebush and Fritillary butterflies, and Karner Blues were by no means uncommon. This year the spicebush are rare, the fritillaries (once the most populous of all butterflies) are uncommon, and I have yet to get a solid sighting of a Karner Blue.

 On the flip side, locust are already out in the fields, a good month ahead of schedule, and the red ant colonies that lie like scars on the land are bigger than ever, and the ants are more aggressive than ever.

So here is a handful of new insect shots – paltry return on the hours invested in getting them.