How Instagram Changed Our Eyes

I was meeting with a client yesterday because she wanted me to update their corporate head shots. 

She had printed out examples of the style she was looking for. The images had a natural feel to them with existing light and maybe a few reflectors. There were no muslin backdrops or studio lighting rigs. The subjects were smiling, talking, looking at others, and in general, engaged with their environment. The color scheme was slightly pale.

Then she showed me the existing portraits they had hanging on the wall. "These need to go," she said.

How things have changed. Up until a few years ago, it was perfectly acceptable to stand stiffly in front of a backdrop with your best suit and a nervous smile. The photographer would employ his standard head shot lighting scheme, snap a few dozen pictures, and call it a day.

Then people discovered Instagram.

What at first seemed like a gimmick, such as applying the Hudson filter to a snap of your child splashing in the pool, became popular art. Why? Honestly, because the pictures weren't boring.

A perfectly aligned - exposed - color temperature correct - image might be required for Architectural Digest, but it's not how we want to portray the life that radiates from our friends, family, and coworkers.

Because it's so competitive on social media, photographers have pushed the envelop in every direction. Scrolling through my Instagram feed is both entertaining and inspiring. I haven't been this excited about images since the days of Life and Look magazines.

Smart businesses know this. They don't want their CEO to look like he was lifted from your dad's yearbook. They want to say to their customers, "Yeah, we get it." And they're doing that by changing how their images look online and in print.

As a photographer, I couldn't be happier. I've always bristled at the thought of a technically perfect photograph. And for Pete's sake, don't explain to me how you did it. I don't care.

I'm too busy figuring out how to make this shot interesting.

-Derrick

If There's No Joy

At the start of summer I began conducting private photography lessons for two high school freshmen. Both young women are smart, motivated, and talented.

We meet once a week. The mother of one brings them to the studio, then she sits back and takes notes while these students learn about composition, storytelling, aperture, and shutter speed.

These two hours I spend with them are completely different than anything else I do. They're so happy to be here. Their love for taking pictures radiates from their smiles. And they're good at it. I wouldn't want to compete against them a few years up the road.

This experience has been on my mind since the first session. And I've been trying to figure out why there's so much joy with these women compared to the daily cynicism that appears in my inbox? Is it their youth? I don't know.

I received a letter yesterday from a podcast listener who stated that he will no longer be following my show. It was because of a joyous remark I made in a tweet - not because I criticized someone or cast aspersions against an institution. I was just happy.

Other typical notes obsess about technical nits or question artistic choices made by various photographers. And what I started wonder is, how good are the photographs made by these critics? Are their images as compelling as those produced by a pair of 13-year-old girls?

Again, I don't know. But I have a guess. 

Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying that photographs need to be happy. But I do believe that passion for the craft, and life itself, leads to better pictures. Whether you're capturing something that's heartwarming or heart wrenching, it's your compassion for either that can help elevate your art.

I've known this for quite some time. But I was reminded again by two young women. They think that taking pictures is supposed to be fun.

And I'm not going to tell them anything different.

-Derrick

In Order to Move Forward

I've been off the grid for nearly 3 weeks. 

My normal routine, which I like a lot, has been disrupted. I haven't posted a journal entry, balanced the books, cleaned the studio, answered the bulk of my email, or photographed anything purely for fun.

Why? Because I've had big projects to address. They were things that meant a lot to me. I finished my work on the Cuba movie (it should be out soon), recorded an entirely new training titled "Dropbox for Photographers," wrote an eBook on photographing Cuba, lead a 3-day workshop in the Eastern Sierra, and completed a big photography project for my favorite commercial client.

One of the things that I learned when I first started writing books was this: I had to be willing to put my normal life on hold if I were to accomplish big things. I couldn't write a book and continue to work 10 hours a day on daily stuff. Something had to give.

It's difficult for me to stray from routine. I find it hard to look out the window and see the garden overgrown. But those are the tasks that turn authors into procrastinators. And that's the reason why most writers don't finish books.

In order to move forward, you must break routine. 

Today is my first day back. I feel great. I've cleaned up the garden, organized my office, made a haircut appointment, paid the bills, and have now returned to the journal. 

My joy stems not only from being back in the daily groove, but because I know that I've accomplished things. I've moved the ball forward.

People ask me how I get so much done. The answer is this: You have to be willing to let go of what's comfortable, at least for a while.

-Derrick

My Favorite Subject of All

After we returned from our sons' high school graduation ceremony last night, I pulled the memory card from the E-M5 and started copying the pictures to my MacBook Pro. Theresa warmed up a pot of soup she had made earlier, and we each had a bowl with a glass of wine.

We were both thinking about the events of the evening. The boys were so happy. We were so proud. Theresa set down her spoon and looked at me.

"Have I told you how thankful I am for the pictures you make?"

I looked back at her, "I think so. But this is really a good time to say it again. Thank you."

We then relocated to the couch and started to relive the moments of the evening, frame by frame.

"Is that the picture you're going to choose of us?" she commented about one group shot.

"I love it," I replied.

"But it looks like I'm talking, and Max too."

"But it has great energy. And everyone looks so present. It just sums up the moment for me."

Theresa smiled and we moved on to the next photo. We'll probably discuss my shot selection more later.

If I ever begin to think that this was all just a dream, I have these pictures to remind me otherwise. The images we've collected of two boys growing up, and their family around them, capture virtually every milestone in their lives.

In a couple months, they'll both be leaving for college. One goes to Santa Barbara and the other to Santa Clara. This will be a big change for their mom. She has given every ounce of energy to raise these kids.

And the change will be dramatic for me too. I won't be there to document the next phase. I know that's the way it should be. But I'm going to miss them.

Even though it's my work, photography is very personal for me. I've seen so many wonderful things through the lens of my camera.

But my favorite subject of all,

has been watching Max and Zach become young men.

-Derrick

Cheap Glass

Photographers tend to be obsessed with sharpness. The first question most will ask about any optic is, "How sharp is it?"

The question I'm asking these days: "Is it sharp enough?"

There's a big difference between the two queries. And it really depends on your view of the world.

There are a million perfectly sharp images on Flickr that bore the hell out of me. Yes, everything is in perfect order: excellent exposure, spot-on color, and corner to corner sharpness. Excuse me while I check my email. If those are the only elements that you think make a good photograph, then I think you might be missing the boat.

The images that attract me are the ones that surprise me, make me feel something, show me a different view of the world. And those photographs can be created with practically any camera sporting just about any lens, even a cheap one.

I've gone through an interesting period with my DSLRs lately. My camera of choice is now mirrorless. I love them. But I still use DSLRs when appropriate. 

I sold off many of my expensive Canon lenses to upgrade my mirrorless kits. But I still have two "L" lenses: the 70-200mm f/2.8 IS and the 24-105 f/4 L IS. If I need superb image quality, I can mount either of those on the 5D Mark II and get it.

But the lenses I've been shooting with most often are the Yongnuo 35mm F/2.0 ($129) and the new Canon 50mm f/1.8 STM ($125) - cheap lenses. Why? Because each have characteristics that I can't get with other optics. It's their imperfections that I crave. 

They are definitely sharp enough where I focus. But at wide apertures, all sorts of interesting things start to happen everywhere else. Instead of living in a sterile edge-to-edge world where everything has the same weight, the images take on a magical quality.

Fortunately, I have a client that loves this look. And I'm having a blast with these shoots, and making good money while doing so.

Don't get me wrong... I'm all for sharpness.

Just not all the time.

-Derrick