Plot Twist

Gary Hart Photography: Afloat, Leaves on the Merced River, Yosemite

Afloat, Leaves on the Merced River, Yosemite
Canon EOS-1Ds Mark II
Canon 100-400 f/4 USM
1/5 second
F/9
ISO 400

One overcast autumn evening in Yosemite, I wandered an isolated trail on the bank of the Merced River with my 100-400 lens, searching for intimate scenes to isolate. Spotting an assortment of colorful leaves clinging to a beautifully textured log, an opportunity materialized in my mind. Though my eyes could see the log and leaves mingling with a reflection of overhanging branches and yellow trees lining the far riverbank, a simple twist of my polarizer erased the reflections and darkened the water. As my eyes adjusted to the change, submerged branches and rocks appeared where the reflection had been. Though more subtle than the reflection, I still found these new elements distracting, but also knew that slightly underexposing the scene would be enough to blacken the water, completely eliminating these distractions and make an image that was entirely about the log and clinging leaves.

As I evaluated the scene and tried a few compositions, a leaf floated by just beyond the log and I realized that by timing my exposure just right, I could separate the next drifting leaf from the log, making it appear suspended in an inky void. So, once I was satisfied with my composition, instead of clicking a nice little image of the scene moving on, I parked myself and waited for that perfectly shaped leaf to enhance my image. And waited. And waited….

During my workshops I enjoy observing my students in the field, the things that draw them and way each brings his or her own personality to the act of creating an image. I could go on and on about any of these differences, but this experience really underscores a particular aspect of my approach, so (since this is my blog) I thought I’d pause my story briefly to write about that. (Read to the end for a plot twist.)

Anyone who has ever photographed with me knows how deliberate I am in the field. It starts with a large measure of calculation, often starting long before I arrive, then scrutinizing the scene upon my arrival to determine the elements that draw the eye, what to include and exclude, and identifying the various ways to do that. When I finally get all those pieces assembled in my brain, I’ll wait as long as it takes (or at least for as long as I have) for the conditions to be perfect, evaluating and refining my composition as I wait. Many (charitably) label this “patience,” though it may include a significant component of stubbornness a well: “I’m not leaving here until I get exactly what I want.” Whatever you call it, this approach works for me because careful observation and measured response is the way I engage with the world. Once I think everything is right, I’ll work the composition to with in an inch of its life: repositioning to change relationships, zooming closer and farther, switching between horizontal and vertical, adjusting my polarizer for a variety of reflection effects, and so on.

But that’s me. More spontaneous photographers are far more energetic and restless in the field, constantly moving and exploring, exposing themselves to far more opportunities than I do. And while I may get more from my scenes than they do, they often capture things I never even laid eyes on.

Whatever your approach, there’s no “best” way for photographers to approach their craft. Leading workshops means being exposed daily to the product of other photographers’ efforts at the same locations I’m photographing. For each time I’m thrilled with an image I know I wouldn’t have found had I not waited patiently and worked it carefully, I can cite someone else’s image that caused me to kick myself because I spent all my time in one spot.

Plot twist

So anyway…

Even though this is a brand new post about a “brand new” (never processed or shared) image, all this happened 18 years ago. Despite the time that has elapsed between its capture and coming out, I still have very distinct memories of this image’s capture—the germination of the idea, the time I spent waiting for a perfect leaf to float into in the perfect location, the euphoria of eventual success, and the ultimate disappointment when I realized I’d messed up and would never be able to use the image….

Waiting nearly an hour for that perfect leaf in the perfect position, it occurred to me that the floating leave I’d seen earlier might have been a rogue one-off. But I never considered moving on, continuing to wait patiently (stubbornly) while a few tattered brown leaves drifted through my frame, and once or twice while a perfectly shaped yellow leaf floated by just out of my frame. About the time advancing darkness forced me to consider that it might be about time to give up, I spotted a promising leaf surrounded by an entourage of smaller leaves just upstream and heading directly into my frame.

My f-stop, ISO, and shutter speed had been dialed in much earlier, but a quick check of my meter told me instantly that I needed more light. With too much excitement and not enough time, instead of bumping my ISO to increase exposure while maintaining a shutter speed fast enough to freeze the moving leaves, I ignored my ISO and reflexively went with a longer shutter speed. Doh!

For 18 years I considered this image a failure because motion blur made the primary focal point too soft, but the memory of “the one that got away” has caused me to visit this very spot on each autumn visit to Yosemite since, hoping for similar opportunity. Eleven years ago I actually found something similar, albeit without a drifting leaf as a focal point. Good enough to process and share, but less than my original vision.

Then, a couple of weeks ago I upgraded my Topaz suite to the latest version so I could up-res and denoise the original files for several large prints ordered by a customer. In the past I’ve only used Topaz’s Denoise tool, but I was so pleased with my up-res results that I poked around to see what else I’d missed, and came across their Super focus tool. Realizing that, rather than the kind of pre-print sharpening I’ve been doing for years, this one actually promised to fix soft images, my mind immediately went to this “failure, and I started digging through my old image files until I found the raw file. And while the result still isn’t perfect, I was blown away by the improvement that I think is enough to actually give me a useable image. Eighteen years later.

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