Capturing the 3-D World

CAPTURING THE 3-DIMENSIONAL WORLD

The first two installments of "Capturing the Three-dimensional World" appeared in the November, 1980, and August, 1981, issues of Arizona Highways. There, we featured collections of some of the best works and interesting insights of some of our finest photographers. The response from our readers has been phenomenal. This month we proudly present another eye-pleasing portfolio of six more Arizona Highways artists with cameras. The following collection ranges from the depths of the Grand Canyon to thousands of feet above the Earth, from the beauty of the land to the fascinating activities of man. But the main ingredient found in all of these works, and the key to what makes these individuals great photographers, is the constant discovery of the unique essence of their subjects. Whether it's Ansel Adams, for whom "making the print becomes the equivalent of a performance," or Ray Manley, who feels "others should be able to stand in my footprints and see things as they are in my pictures," - all of these experts are somehow able to capture the three-dimensional world and bring it back to these pages full of color and full of life. These are Arizona Highways Photographers. A breed apart.

Part three in a series ANSEL ADAMS "Making the print becomes the equivalent of a performance."

Photography, for me, is just creating an experience that is something I have seen and felt. Everything I come across in the creative field is simply a “found object.” I don't anticipate anything, I simply come across something which excites me. Often I'll go for a long period of time without making a picture because I simply haven't seen anything. Then I'll see something that excites me. Just recently I went over to Point Lobos (south of Carmel, California), and I took four very good photographs, all of which were direct emotional experiences. They were as I found them found objects. I saw and made the image. But there is an awful lot of practice and basic training that goes into that facility, and if you don't keep practicing, you get into trouble (as I well know)!

My philosophy of photography grew over a number of years, probably developing out of the training I had as a pianist. My very exacting teachers instilled in me a rather intense discipline. This was very fortunate when I went into photography because at that time there were no schools of photography in the West, and I had to work everything out by myself. The only thing I had to go by was a very vague concept of excellence, and I just tried to get that. As that goal of excellence developed, my general philosophy developed with it, as well as my great interest in conservation and the natural world.

When I am out taking a picture, what I see is the final print. I proceed with the negative and get all the information on it I need, considering it as the composer's score. All the “notes” are there. Then, making the print becomes the equivalent of a performance. That's why new prints are seldom the same as those made in past years; there are new concepts and new interpretations.

I really learned most of my craft from doing what I call “nuts and bolts” photography, photography that made me a living. Often I just had to do jobs that were brought to my studio. They were my livelihood. It's like a doctor, he can't say to a patient, “I don't do tonsils.” The photographer might have a specialty, like landscape photography, but he can do other things, too. Generally the creative person is not channeled into any pattern or program. He has a very high order of independence from any rule or pattern of style or operation.

RAY MANLEY

"Others should be able to stand in my footprints and see things as they are in my pictures."

I have always felt that the straightforward picture was the most valuable. Just because a subject is done a number of times doesn't mean that you have to shoot it in some strange, unrecognizable way in order to get it published again. I strive for ideal lighting, good composition, and a good third-dimension in shadows. But I also feel that others should be able to stand in my footprints and see things as they are in my pictures. In all my years in photography, I have been trying to get people to recognize Arizona as a beautiful place. And one way of doing that is by showing identifiable locations. I don't do "artistic photography" as much as I do just good, clean photographs.

I am not in favor of telephoto lenses because the photograph that results is not what the eye sees. The lenses tend to compress the image. In Monument Valley, for example, the monuments seem compressed in a telephoto shot. That's a disappointment to people who, enticed by the pictures, come to Arizona, only to find that it is beyond their capability to even see the scenery in the same perspective.

When I'm out photographing, with the 5x7 camera especially, I use the view finder a lot but don't shoot a lot of shots. Very often I go to an area for one picture. I've gone all the way to Katmandu and to the pyramids and come back with only two or three different compositions. Why? Because I think that I've gotten the best, and I'm subordinating myself when I go beyond that.

In doing photographic work, the individual must have a love for what he is doing plus a willingness to sacrifice and to spend an awful lot of time searching. I'm very rich in the rewards I've gotten from photography, and I don't mean in the monetary sense. It's been a good living, but more than that, I've gotten emotional satisfaction from doing it, and that is my real reward.

KEN AKERS

I try to photograph things that are pleasing to me, that tell something, that communicate an idea I want to get across. In taking pictures, I look for content. Of course, I'm concerned with exposure and sharpness because a lot of the pictures I take happen pretty quickly. But mostly, I look at the image for content and impact. And these elements can vary, they can be very strong, graphic, or subtle.

People make photography interesting to me. That's the one common denominator in just about everything I shoot.

Often, I try to make my photos appeal to the emotions, making the viewer feel good or bad. Either way, I try to get something going inside, to get something to spark.

I try to get into what people are doing, or how an activity relates to them. Ideally, I try to fit into the situation and not be noticeable. Once I do that, I start seeing things from a different point of view. As I take on the attitude of the people I am working with, more ideas are generated, giving me more insight into how I am going to shoot what is going on.

I use a 35mm most of the time. It is the most versatile for me. With much of the photography I do, I couldn't make it with a larger format camera. Also, the type of lens I use has a lot to do with the way I think. I use larger format cameras, but I don't function as well mentally with them.

The first time I shot a really good picture, I got this feeling inside me that I had never experienced. I realized that photography is what I really wanted to do, it pumped me up that much. It was great, and I still feel that way. When it happens, I think, "this is really worth it, I need more," and it keeps me going.

ED COOPER

To me, the taking of a photo is the ultimate experience, greater than any other part of the photographic process. I always try to keep a fresh sense of wonderment in everything I see, and I'm really genuinely excited when I run across a picture that makes an emotional impact on me. When I first came out West, I started mountain climbing. I liked to take pictures of the mountains while I was climbing them, but soon I found that getting the image was more important than getting to the top. Suddenly I was going to these places just to get pictures of them, expressing on film the same emotional impact I had when I first viewed them.

I like my pictures simple, with a few strong elements of design, usually one point of central focus with all the other elements leading into it. When I'm looking for a picture, I'll search around until I see something I like and then zero in on it. I hold both hands up to my eye and form a little window to look through. Then I put my eyes out of focus so I can concentrate on the elements of the picture rather than the details. If the elements look right, if the strong visual elements come together, then I know I've got a good picture.

If I'm looking at the Grand Canyon, and I like the play of light and shadow, that excites me. It makes that emotional impact. When that happens, I feel that then it can also be meaningful to others. I'll take a picture and hope that when others look at it they'll feel the same kind of excitement I felt. I'm not looking for deeper meanings, I just look primarily for the picture, for something that makes a statement.

DOROTHY MCLAUGHLIN "What makes a good photographer... is patience - lots of it."

What makes a good picture? Composition and lighting mostly. One of the things I enjoy shooting most is sunsets. It's a lighting challenge. You have to do a lot of guessing and bracketing, but the end result is always so pleasing. What makes a good photographer, on the other hand, is patience-lots of it. You need patience, particularly in scenic work, to wait until the clouds in the scene are just right and the sun is exactly where you want it to be. Sometimes you may have to wait as long as three to four hours for the right conditions.

I really don't have a deep-down philosophy about photography. My start came in 1950 when I married a professional photographer. Even with that, though, I had to learn the hard way, by trial and error. But if I were to start over again, one of the first things I would do is take a good college-level course in art even before taking a course in photography. It's so important, especially in scenic or landscape work, which I've now been doing for about 30 years, where composition makes or breaks a picture.

Young people today often think of photography as a glamour occupation in which all you need to do is pick up a camera and start shooting. They often miss the beauty in ordinary things-mainly because they lack basic training. They don't look for it, so they don't see it.

Today, when I shoot a scene, I want the backlight to come through to brighten up the photo, or I'll use crosslighting and make use of the soft quality of early morning and late afternoon light. Both techniques add a scintillating quality to any scenic photo.

Scenic photography, I feel, is an excellent area for women. What's required - aside from a knowledge of art, patience, and technical ability - is good equipment. And women photographers have a big advantage here that men don't. They can usually find someone willing to help carry the equipment and set it up.

JERRY LANDIS

“I actually compose the picture by flying the plane.” In my very first flying lesson, which took place early on an Arizona summer morning, I realized that my greatest thrill in flying would come from the fantastic views that flying enabled me to see. My aerial photography business has given me the opportunity to mix in a few scenic pictures with a great many mapping and real estate photographs.

With offices in five Western states I can literally cover every square mile of the West at one time or another. This enables me to photograph many scenes from the air or remember their locations so that I can photograph them at another time.

The types of scenes I look for are picturesque mountains, canyons, or lakes with clouds or very majestic backgrounds. I also like those that show some kind of unique patterning in the landscape: the texture of the sand dunes, the variations of color in the Painted Desert, even the patterns of streets in a city.

All my scenic color work is done with a foolproof aerial mapping camera, which is pre-set to one F-stop (F-8), one shutter speed (1/500th of a second), and one focus setting (infinity). There are no adjustments whatever. I use a special aerographic film which takes 9 x 9 inch negative images on a 125 foot roll. This film originally was designed for military reconnaissance and has a great enough latitude to accommodate the light of early morning to midday.

In aerial photography there are an infinite number of angles from which to shoot. I actually compose the picture by flying the plane. Many times after finishing with out-of-town mapping work, I will drop low over an area and shoot scenic shots that I may have originally located years before. I enjoy blending the art of photography with the discipline of flying whenever the opportunity presents itself. After all, it's a rather unique perspective of our world.