Coyote pup sitting beside yellow daisies, Jasper National Park, Canada. Please click on the image above to view a larger version of this photo.

BBC = bBS

Hey Folks,

Here’s an interesting article from the UK Telegraph; the first paragraph pretty much sums things up: “The BBC is accused of routinely faking footage in wildlife documentaries, by using studio sets, sound effects and tame animals to portray creatures in the wild.”

Now, I know what you’re thinking: yes, indeed, the UK Telegraph commenting on any media source of ‘faking’ anything is pretty sad. Let’s disregard tabloid integrity for a moment and consider what this is really about (and what’s WAY more fun); wildlife photography.

Wildlife photography does not include zoo and game farm animals; shooting captive subjects, given that some folks are perpetually going to choose to do this, should always be labelled as such, even if only via context (see Darwin Wiggett’s bear photo for an example; and notice that he captioned it regardless).

I have yet to hear anyone explain how photographing a bear in a cage is wildlife anything. The root of the word ‘wild’ is free-willed, not Free Willy. I understand, for certain, there are degrees of what that might mean. Is a zebra migrating hundreds of miles across the plains in Africa before being hemmed in by a fence really free willed? *

The fact that there are indeed myriad shades of gray, woven through every possible facet of our world, does not make charcoal black any less black. We might differ on where 18% gray is, but we know what black is.

A bear in a cage is a bear in a cage, and not wildlife. Steel bars and free will aren’t friends.

Wildlife photography must be about wild, as people photography must be about people. Photographing captive animals is no more wildlife photography than photographing my pickup truck parked in front of the house might make me a Nascar photographer; a photo of me in my stylishly stunning goretex jacket is not fashion photography.

So what is “wildlife”? In thinking of how critically different a captive animal is to a wild one, I’m reminded of a powerful passage by Derrick Jensen in his great book, Thought to Exist in the Wild, Awakening to the Nightmare of Zoos: “A sea lion is her habitat. She is the school of fish she chases. She is the water. She is the cold wind blowing over the ocean. She is the waves that strike the rocks on which she sleeps and she is the rocks. She is the constant calling back and forth between members of her family, this talking to each other that never seems to stop. She is the shark who eventually ends her life. She is all these things. She is that web. She is the process of being a sea lion, in place. She is her desires, which we can only learn by letting her show us, if she wants; not by encaging her.”

That’s what wild is. A bear in a cage relentlessly pacing back and forth thru its own shit is not.

The power of photography is in its capture. What makes a photo so appealing to a viewer is the moment. Reality portrayed on a 2 dimensional plane. If we look through great moments in all forms of photography and ask the question of what is it that evokes a reaction in a viewer, it’s clearly a response to some perceived sense of reality, to some actual experience; even if that sense is simply someone else’s “take” on reality. We understand that moment. We feel it. We relate to it.

I think it’s important that we don’t deny that power, that integral function of a photograph. Photography might, translated literally, mean ‘painting with light’, but that’s a superfluous definition. Photography is most definitely NOT painting. Photography is photography.

When we present that photography as something other than what it actually is we’re not documentarians. It’s a copout to hide beneath the veneer of “artists” as well; the only use of the term “artist” that might be appropriate for those photographers who don’t disclose captive subjects is “con-artist”.

Speaking of such, even the National Advertising Division recently made a similar statement when they banned an ad by Proctor & Gamble for too much digital manipulation. The NAD took things a step further, however, and pointed out that even a footnote isn’t enough; that is, full disclosure should be FULL disclosure: “You can’t use a photograph to demonstrate how a cosmetic will look after it is applied to a woman’s face and then – in the mice type – have a disclosure that says ‘okay, not really.’

Some folks claim that labeling their photographs reduces nature photography to a form devoid of ulterior meaning, but I disagree. We humans label things. We label animals, features, subjects, moments, days, places, etc. We label each other. We label ourselves. And yes, we label our art. We label sculptures as ‘sculptures’, paintings as ‘paintings’, poetry as ‘poetry’, and so on. We even subdivide each form into further categories, and label pieces and subdivisions accordingly. Photography becomes ‘journalistic photography’, or ‘still life photography’ and ‘nature photography’. This is what we do. Its how we know the world.

IMO, the power of nature photography is its expression of the natural world. Portrayals of captive animals as wild animals loses much of the power that comes through our relationships and experiences with nature. I see no harm in expecting artists and documentarians alike to pronounce their work for what it is. The phrase ‘nature photograph’ carries with it certain intimations. A trip to the zoo is NOT one of those.

Cheers

Carl

* PS: the answer to the question about the zebra is (a), yes.

Massive storm surge raises the high tide and creates crashing waves along the coast of Wrangell - St. Elias National Park and Preserve, Alaska. The sun breaks through right at sunset and provides some spectacular light. Please click on the image above to view a larger version of this photo.

Hey Folks,

Why do we stare at the sea?

Cheers

Carl

Social Media, with all its tweets, posts, shares, likes, pluses and retweets

=

The internet’s foolproof insurance against avoiding redundancy.

A dried up pond on what is normally a wetland. Effects of climate change, global warming.The coastal plain near the Canning River, Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, ANWR, Alaska. Please click on the image above to view a larger version of this photo.

Hey Folks,

For the less progressive of the folks who read this blog, Happy Flat Earth Day.

Cheers

Carl

Evening light on the Canadian Rockies. Please click on the image above to view a larger version of this photo.

Hey Folks,

Some great news; photographer extraordinaire, and a man I am proud to call my friend, Darwin Wiggett has put together his excellent series, “How To Photograph the Canadian Rockies” again, this time with even more detail and information than its predecessor. In 2005 Darwin released, through Altitude Publishing company, this great book, as a small, portable handbook,a a guide to photographing the Canadian Rockies. I was lucky enough to grab a copy before the company went bust and the book’s publishing ended, leaving countless nature photographers frustrated, as they weren’t able to snare a copy. The book is absolutely fantastic; I unhesitatingly call it a “must have” for anyone heading toward the Canadian Rockies. Which is a bummer; a ‘must have‘ is now a ‘can no longer get’.

Until now. The great news; Darwin’s just set up a new website, How To Photograph the Canadian Rockies, and released all the great info in his book as ebooks. This time the ebooks go into more detail, and cover the Canadian Rockies region by region. Starting with the Icefield Parkway area, the first 2 ebooks are currently available, and soon to come are ebooks on photographing Banff and Jasper National Parks, probably the crown jewels of the Canadian Rockies.

We’ll do a quick test here. I’ll invite Darwin to check this blog out and tell me where the scene in this photograph (above) is, and where I shot it from (Darwin – if you know it, don’t post the answer just yet). The first non-Darwin who can do so, I’ll buy you any one of Darwin’s ebooks (your choice which).

Darwin’s expertise in the area, for photography, is unparalleled; he’s lives in the area, and has been shooting those mountains since before they were mountains. Well, maybe not THAT long, but long enough. I can’t tell you how helpful his original guide has been for me. I’ve been to the Canadian Rockies a number of times, and spent more than a few weeks stalking wildlife there, waiting for sunrises, rain to stop, clouds to break, etc, and I still wouldn’t take a trip there without his photography guide with me.

Darwin offers great advice on not only places to shoot, but when and how he likes to shoot them. Filters, lenses, time of day, likely wildlife sightings, etc, etc; a comprehensive guide. With the new website, he adds a lot more. I’ve already added the site to my Google Reader (you DO use a Google reader, don’t you?); a wealth of info and awesome photography is headed my way.

For anyone thinking about a trip to the Canadian Rockies, get yourself these ebooks, and check out his site. You’ll be doing yourself and your photography a huge favor.

Cheers

Carl

PS – I was gunna call the offer above my very own “Darwin Award”, but thought better of doing so.

Hey Folks,

While I enjoy a few more days in the mountains, you might enjoy this. OK, so it’s not the typical blog post on a photographers’ website .. that’s a good thing, no? A friend dared me I would NOT put this on my blog … I can’t imagine why.

All I ask is that you turn it up .. loud.

Cheers

Carl

An ice cave on the Kuskulana Glacier, in the Wrangell Mountains. Winter snow and freezing temperatures ice up the water of the Kuskulana River, and the this wall of ice is a myriad of patterns, colors, and textures. Kuskulana Glacier, Wrangell - St. Elias National Park and Preserve, Alaska. Please click on the image above to view a larger version of this photo.

Thank you, Dr. King.

Cheers

Carl

Jacksina Glacier and Wrangell Mountains, Wrangell - St. Elias National Park and Preserve, Alaska. Taken on our fall backpacking trip to Mt Jarvis, on the northside of Wrangell - St. Elias National Park. Please click on the image above to view a larger version of the photo.

Hey Folks,

Sorry, all – it’s December, the holidays, and I’m in the mountains. I suggest you click on your computer’s power button, turning the dang thing off, and head outside somewhere nice.

Seriously, Happy New Year, and I’ll see you all when I return.

Cheers

Carl

A backpacker/hiker stands and looks up the Lakina River drainage to the Lakina Glacier, on the side of Mount Blackburn. Wrangell mountains, Wrangell - St. Elias National Park and Preserve, Alaska. Please click on the image above to view a larger version of this photo.

Hey Folks,

If art is exploration, then perhaps one of the best modes of “practice” we might undertake is the challenge of the new; stepping outside our comfort realms and engaging something new. Stepping toward the unknown.

The process of learning is stimulating in itself, but I think it’s more than that, too. It’s stepping back and revisiting how to learn. Going through the process of picking up at the beginning, and working toward building a comfort level with some kind of form.

Art involves, essentially, that process. With that in mind, I find it great practice to pick up something I’ve not done before, something I know nothing about, and step into it. This winter, for example, my goal is to learn to telemark ski. I’d fooled with it briefly last year, but didn’t really understand or know the process. Also, as I found out this fall, had all the wrong gear for learning on. So, I’ve set myself up this winter with a nice rig, and taken some lessons.

The good news; what started out as essentially a “Special Ed” class is gradually molding into something resembling telemark skiing. It’s great fun, and quite a workout. On top of that, it’s stimulating!

Now, it’s simply practice time, putting in hours on the skis, running up and down the mountain, working on repetition, repetition, repetition. Do it again, do it again, do it again. Learn what it “feels” like. Let the rhythm sink into my body. Get past cognition to where it flows. It’s not a “grind” at all, but an exciting time of voyage into myself, and where I can go with it. Good stuff!

Learning to play music is very similar to this; going over a scale or a voicing over and over, feeling it, hearing it, experiencing it. The scale or passage becomes more than an exercise, a thought, and something inside of us.

Photography is like this too, but in a different way. The technical side of photography is always more cognitive, I think. But the art, the seeing, the vision, can most definitely improve with repetition; through repetition a kind of cleansing of the vessels helps the flow of seeing, I think, and we become more attuned to the sights, the patterns and shapes, colors and tones, around us.

Another way a new practice can REALLY help our art, I think, is the humility of it. Hearing the words “are you OK, mister?” from a passing 10 year old child humbles a grown man in a whole new way. One has to laugh at one’s self.

Humility is essential to making art, because of the fear involved in putting pen to paper, and fear of the unknown. We never really KNOW what’s about to come out when we pick up our instrument, our camera, our brush. We have to trust that the process of doing that is itself worthwhile endeavor, because we know the likelihood is that what will actually come out won’t be very good. Most art that any of us create is dumped in the trash before it’s hardly begun. The ‘keepers’ are few and far between for even the greatest artists.

Courage is required to make art, and with that, the acceptance that we are, after all, imperfect creatures, and make imperfect art.

More so, perhaps, is the humility required to step into the unknown, rather than the ego-boosting world of the comfortable. We could, of course, reshoot the same ole thing, the scenes we know, the style we know, the gear we know, to the audience we know, but I think we lose when we do this. We benefit most when we step forward, and embrace our misgivings, our weaknesses, our fallibility, and start to learn. Learning is an absorption process, as is art making. A friend of mine, a wonderful painter and writer, describes artists as “sponge-like receptors”, and in this sense, we’re constantly learning, receiving information.

So what are you learning? What’s your new endeavor for the winter? Your aim for the spring? Pick up something you’ve never done before, never tried, and work at it. It’s good for ya.

Cheers

Carl

Wal-Mike's run down store of all things, Trapper Creek, on the Parks highway, winter, Alaska. Click on the thumbnail above to view a larger version of this photo.

Hey Folks,

Here’s a photo I took this past week on a thwarted trip north to photograph Denali. I’d hoped for a nice clear morning and view of the grand old mountain with some nice alpenglow, but a low lying fog settled in the river valley overnight, and I couldn’t see much of anything until well after sunup. Kind of a bummer after spending a night in my bag at 0˚.

So I packed up and headed back south, towards the warmth of a shower. Along the way, I drove past Wal-Mike’s, a place I’d driven by many times and always thought to myself ‘I gotta shoot that sometime’. Well, friday was ‘sometime’, so I went for it. Mike was around, but fortunately used to photographers, I suppose. He didn’t come out with a sawn-off shotgun, as I suspected, and I was able to take a few photos and scurry on before any drama unfolded.

I must admit, I was a little uneasy standing around taking photos with all the ‘Joe Miller for US Senate’ signs in the area, but no one bothered me, and I escaped without any trouble.

I must admit, the name of the store is pretty clever.

Cheers

Carl