Bonus Blog: Eclipse Special

Gary Hart Photography: Solar Return, Total Solar Eclipse, Central Idaho (August 21, 2017)

Solar Return, Total Solar Eclipse, Central Idaho (August 21, 2017)
Sony a7RII
Sony 100-400 GM
ISO 100
f/16
1/6 second

The following article isn’t a comprehensive eclipse photography how-to, but for eclipse viewers, it might be worth reading anyway

I’m getting a lot of questions about next week’s (April 8, 2024) total solar eclipse. In addition the standard “how-to” questions, many have asked if I plan to write a blog about how to photograph it. My response has been that, having photographed exactly one total solar eclipse in my life, I’m far from qualified to portray myself as an eclipse expert. But the questions keep coming, so I figured I’ll put my limited knowledge, along with some unsolicited experience-based advice, in a short(-ish) blog post with the qualifier that there are many people out there with far more eclipse photography experience than I have. And please note that the words that follow are intended for my kindred spirits, those whose passion for photography is an extension of their love of Nature—if your goal is a career-making eclipse image that you can retire on, you probably want to look elsewhere.

Safety first

And before I say anything else, don’t even think about viewing the eclipse without proper eye and camera lens protection—anything less risks permanent eye and sensor damage. Rather than try to provide safety guidance here, I’ll just refer you to NASA’s Eclipse Viewing Safety page.

Trust me

Based on my 2017 experience, my number one piece of advice to anyone lucky enough to be in position for eclipse totality is don’t get so caught up the photography that you fail to appreciate the majesty above you. I can’t emphasize this enough. For many, this will be a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and (I promise) if you’re trying to photograph it, the short duration of totality (four minutes or less) will take your breath away (like a knee to the midsection if you realize you missed it fiddling with your camera).

After my experience in 2017, my recommended approach to photographing any total eclipse while prioritizing the experience, is to put your camera on a tripod well in advance, attach your longest lens, and frame up the sun. In other words, don’t get fancy.

Trying to add landscape features to your eclipse image is probably a mistake, because during totality the sun will be so high in the sky that any (legitimate) image that includes the landscape will be so wide, the eclipse will shrink close to insignificance in the frame. Even going wide enough to include stars and planets will shrink the eclipse more than I’d prefer.

Not only will shooting a telephoto of the eclipse maximize the eclipse’s beauty, a tight frame eliminates all terrestrial objects, making your location within the path of totality irrelevant—whether you’re at a beautiful mountain lake or the parking lot of a 7/11, your telephoto eclipse images will look the same. That said, if you can be in a relatively remote area away from crowds, by all means do it. While the photography aspect won’t be any different, the multi-sensory personal aspect will be much better.

Time to start clicking

Don’t misunderstand: I’m not saying you shouldn’t photograph the eclipse—I can’t imagine witnessing something this special and not photographing it. I just want to make sure your priorities are straight before you begin. So here goes…

I think the best eclipse images happen in the few seconds before and after totality, so make sure you’re ready for both of these very brief windows. During the actual period of totality, you’ll have time to catch your breath, appreciate the view, and prepare for the sun’s return.

Though in 2017 I took a ton of images long before and after totality, I never did a thing with them—they just weren’t that interesting (a bright disk with a bite taken out). But that doesn’t mean these images didn’t have value, especially my before images, because there’s no better way to appreciate the speed of Earth’s rotation than to frame up any celestial object in a long telephoto lens and watch how quickly it exits the frame. If nothing else, even if you won’t use your before images, this is your best opportunity to gauge the sun’s pace across the frame at your chosen focal length, and its general path across the sky. In 2017, armed with this knowledge, I set a timer on my watch (can’t remember how long—30 seconds?) to remind me to check my framing. Don’t forget, the longer your focal length, the more frequently you’ll need to check your framing.

In final minute (or so) before totality, remove the solar filter (from the lens, not your eyes), stop down to f/16 or smaller (for a sunstar as the sun shrinks to nothing), and reframe the sun by moving it toward the edge of your frame to maximize the length of time until you’ll need to reframe again—ideally you won’t need to touch your camera again until after totality starts and you’ll have about four glorious minutes to enjoy a view that doesn’t change a lot. (FYI, the reason you don’t see any 2017 pre-totality sunstar images from me is because I was just a few seconds late removing my solar filter until it was too late—fortunately, I was prepared when the sun returned two minutes later.)

Don’t forget to check your exposure, both after removing the solar filter, and again when the sun is completely eclipsed. Since most of your frame will be black, your histogram will be skewed far to the left, but don’t worry about this—the most important thing is to make the remaining sunlight as bright as possible without clipping those highlights.

In the final seconds before and after totality, look for the Baily’s Beads and the diamond ring effects on sun’s perimeter (you might not see them until you view your images later). Both are brilliant splashes of light on the sun’s rim, caused when the last rays pass through irregularities on the lunar surface. Once the sun has disappeared completely, you can increase your exposure and remove eye protection (but keep it nearby—like on top of your head) until the sun returns.

Once totality arrives, a possible compositional option that will require a wider focal length is to include Venus, about 15 degrees below and right of the eclipse, and Jupiter, about 30 degrees above and to the left of the eclipse. As cool as that sounds, they’ll just be white dots, and as I said earlier, the wider focal length will shrink the sun. But if that sounds appealing, you’ll have time to do this in the four minutes of totality without completely distracting yourself from the eclipse experience. (But if you change your focal length for any reason, don’t forget to refocus.)

One potentially very cool addition to your eclipse frame is Comet Pons-Brooks, in the sky near Jupiter. On the cusp of naked-eye visibility, the comet should be visible to a camera during the few minutes of eclipse totality darkness. Don’t expect anything like 2020’s NEOWISE, but you might get a small tail that will identify the fuzzy dot as a comet, a truly rare opportunity that could set your eclipse photos apart.

If you must include landscape with your eclipse, to avoid an image that’s merely a single tiny sun somewhere near the top of the frame, you’ll probably want to do a time-lapse composite: a series of images captured at regular intervals, then combined in the computer with a before or after picture of the landscape, which will depict in one frame the eclipse’s evolution and path above the landscape. If you attempt a composite, please don’t cheat and manufacture a composite that shows the eclipse above an unrelated landscape—for example, an image of the Golden Gate Bridge with an eclipse series transposed above it (yuck). Nor should you magnify the eclipse larger than its actual size. (If you do either of these things, I don’t want to see them.) Since my 2017 composite attempt was a failure, and trying to do that composite was the distraction I most regret, I’ll refer you to the countless other photographers who have had more time-lapse success and generously offer guidance online.

A few processing points

The three images I’ve processed from 2017 (below) are cropped. Even though I used a 400mm lens (I’d have used a 200-600 if it had been available at the time), I wanted the eclipse bigger, so I cropped closer in Photoshop. Because there’s not a lot of fine detail in an eclipse image, you have a fair amount of latitude for cropping without doing great harm, so if you’re disappointed by the size of the eclipse in whatever lens you use, you’re not necessarily stuck with that.

I shoot everything in raw, which enabled me to warm the color temperature quite a bit in Lightroom. To my eyes, the eclipse looked more blue than this, but I just like my images being the yellow color we associate with the sun.

I also had to clean up some lens flair in Photoshop. Lens flair is pretty much unavoidable if the sun is in your frame, but the Photoshop Remove tool handles it pretty well.

Experience first, then photography

However you choose to photograph the eclipse, during totality step away from the camera and bask in the experience. As totality approaches, observe the sunlight’s subtle dimming, and the way shadows appear more crisply etched as the area of the sun providing illumination diminishes. With a good view of the surrounding landscape, in the final seconds you might see the moon’s shadow rapid approach before engulfing you in totality.

Now you’re eclipsed. Marvel at the sun’s corona dancing against the surrounding blackness. As your eyes adjust, look for stars, planets, and (if you’re lucky) Comet Pons-Brooks. And don’t limit your focus to the visual. When the sun disappears, note the rapturous awe, or elated celebration, of those surrounding you. Monitor animal behavior, and check in with your non-visual senses: notice the cooler temperature, listen for bird, insect, and other creature sounds to go quiet, perhaps replaced by the calls of nocturnal creatures.

There you have it, the extent of my eclipse photography knowledge. If you encounter advice from a photographer with more eclipse experience than I have, it’s entirely possible (likely) that they know more about it than I do. But don’t let them talk you into trying something so complicated that you miss your four-minute opportunity to experience one of Nature’s most special gifts, because there are no do-overs.

Now enjoy, and good luck!

Read about my 2017 eclipse experience


August 21, 2017

Click any image to scroll through the gallery LARGE

The View from Space

Gary Hart Photography: Let There Be Light, Planet Earth, Solar System, Milky Way (August 21, 2017)

Let There Be Light, Planet Earth, Solar System, Milky Way (August 21, 2017)

Here’s my eclipse story

If you follow me on social media, you know that I don’t get political online. That doesn’t mean that I don’t have political opinions, but photography needs to make you happy, and there are already too many unhappy photographers to inject politics into the mix. I’ve also learned, and I have the people I’ve met in my workshops to thank for this, that individuals with completely different social and political beliefs are not idiots, uncaring, morons, crazy, or whatever other pejorative you might be inclined to hurl. They’re good people who arrived at their values and beliefs through a completely different combination of family history, opportunities, life experiences, good/bad fortune, and present circumstances, than you and I have.

But I’m writing this post because yesterday, like millions of others, I shared a completely black image on my Instagram page to show my support for BLM. Not only did I feel like solidarity on the issue of police not killing innocent people is important right now, I also thought, wow, here’s something everyone can agree on. And for the most part I was right—I was thrilled to see the truly diverse support this simple act received, crossing traditional political and social boundaries.

On the other hand, I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised that this support wasn’t universal. I got a little pushback on my Facebook page (swiftly dealt with—to borrow from the late, great Tom Petty, it’s good to be king), and noticed that the number of followers of my Instagram page, which goes up every day, declined yesterday—from that I can only infer that some people were reflexively unfollowing anyone who posted a black image. To those people, I say good riddance.

Call me an optimist (or naive), but I’m hopeful that the United States has finally reached a tipping point, and real change is in store. So to pivot from politics to photography, I’m sharing this image from the 2017 total eclipse, because nothing in my portfolio expresses my hope better than the instant of sunlight’s return after a total solar eclipse. For those who haven’t had the privilege to witness one (mark your calendars for April 8, 2024), a total solar eclipse is one of those transcendent moments in nature where humans’ insignificance is impossible to deny. I don’t think I’ve ever felt smaller than I did at the instant I clicked this picture.

Because I can’t help but think that so much of our planet’s divisiveness would evaporate if we all had a clearer picture of our place in the Universe, I’m going to close with a few quotes from astronauts, who are uniquely qualified to speak on the subject:

  • Anousheh Ansari, the first Iranian in space: “The actual experience exceeds all expectations and is something that’s hard to put to words… It sort of reduces things to a size that you think everything is manageable, all these things that may seem big and impossible… We can do this. Peace on Earth — No problem. It gives people that type of energy, that type of power…”
  • Neil Armstrong: “It suddenly struck me that that tiny pea, pretty and blue, was the Earth. I put up my thumb and shut one eye, and my thumb blotted out the planet Earth. I didn’t feel like a giant. I felt very, very small.” 
  • Ron Garan, Shuttle and International Space Station astronaut: “When we look down at the earth from space, we see this amazing, indescribably beautiful planet. It looks like a living, breathing organism. But it also, at the same time, looks extremely fragile.”
  • Edward Gibson, Skylab astronaut: “You see how diminutive your life and concerns are compared to other things In the universe.”
  • Jeff Hoffman, Space Shuttle astronaut: “You do, from that perspective, see the Earth as a planet. You see the sun as a star – we see the sun in a blue sky, but up there, you see the sun in a black sky. So, yeah, you are seeing it from the cosmic perspective.”
  • Edgar Mitchell, Apollo 14 astronaut: “You develop an instant global consciousness, a people orientation, an intense dissatisfaction with the state of the world, and a compulsion to do something about it. From out there on the moon, international politics look so petty. You want to grab a politician by the scruff of the neck and drag him a quarter of a million miles out and say, ‘Look at that, you son of a bitch.’”
  • Nicole Stott, Space Shuttle and ISS astronaut: “We have this connection to Earth. I mean, it’s our home. And I don’t know how you can come back and not, in some way, be changed. It may be subtle. You see differences in different people in their general response when they come back from space. But I think, collectively, everybody has that emblazoned on their memories, the way the planet looks. You can’t take that lightly.”

The View From Earth

Click an image for a closer look, and to view a slide show.

 

Are you tired of eclipse photos yet?

Gary Hart Photography: Blood Moon, Death Valley, California

Blood Moon, Death Valley, California
Sony a7RIII
Sony 100-400 GM
Sony 2x teleconverter
ISO 3200
f/11
2 seconds

Since everyone else seems to be doing it, I thought I’d join the party….

I always schedule my Death Valley workshop to coincide with the January (or early February) full Moon, so it was just a coincidence that North America’s first super (a full Moon that’s within 90 percent of its closest approach to Earth), blue (the second full moon of a given month), blood (a lunar eclipse: a full Moon that passes into the Earth’s shadow and is bathed in light stripped of all but its red wavelengths by Earth’s atmosphere) Moon in 150 years coincided with my workshop. But since we were already there….

I got my group up to Zabriskie Point at around 4:30, well into the eclipse but before totality. Unlike most group photo events I’ve experienced, this morning’s crowd at Zabriskie was a little subdued—I suspect due to the early hour. Compared to the solar eclipse I photographed last August, a lunar eclipse moves with the speed of a glacier. While it was underway, I was able to assist my workshop students, set up my own equipment, switch lenses and camera bodies, experiment with exposure, gawk at the spectacle, and still had plenty of time to chat, laugh, and marvel with the rest of my group.

Starting with my Sony a7RIII, Sony 100-400 f/4 GM, and Sony 2x teleconverter, I cranked my focal length all the way out to 800mm and started clicking. After a while I pulled out my Sony/Zeiss 24-70 f/4, putting it on the a7RIII and switching the telephoto setup to my a7RII. Since time wasn’t a concern, I only used one tripod, switching the two bodies back and forth as my needs dictated.

Throughout the eclipse the Moon was softened by a thin layer of cirrus clouds. This image is among my first of the morning, before the Moon reached a band of denser clouds close to the horizon. I ended up with more creative captures, but those will need to wait for another day.

Workshop Schedule || Purchase Prints


The Moon In All Shapes And Sizes