I am drawn to strong graphics and color, especially in plants or architecture. The subject matter by itself may be static and sterile at times but strong composition and a sense of movement in the lines can breathe life into a photograph and evoke pleasant emotions.
Yucca leaves are particularly fun to play with because of the rhythm of the repetitive sword-shaped leaves. Combined with a textured background in subtle shades of green, I find this image to be visually poetic and very striking.
My newest workshop is one that I think will be loads of fun and very illuminating:
“Holistic Photography: Finding Yourself in Your Art”
A photograph is the result of a three-way connection between the photographer, subject, and viewer. You can try to be objective but there will always be a part of yourself in your photos. You will inevitably bring your feelings, past experiences, and pre-conceived ideas to the relationship with your subject. From that relationship your own distinctive style eventually emerges.
This workshop is about identifying your own distinctive style, learning where it comes from and how to use it. We will also discuss ways to get yourself into a mental state that allows the best of yourself to shine in your art. As National Geographic photographer, Sam Abell, once said, “Who we are is the most important thing about photography”.
This two and a half hour class, held at the Albuquerque Photographers’ Gallery, is geared toward intermediate to advanced photographers who have been photographing long enough for a style to emerge. Participants should bring 8-10 prints of their favorite photos for in-depth evaluation.
Date: Wednesday, April 3rd, 2013, 6-8:30 PM.
Cost: $45 (plus NM Gross Receipts tax)
Limit: 10 participants
To sign up: http://www.abqphotographersgallery.com/ or call 505-244-9195
I was sitting in a small restaurant with a view of Mont St Michel in the North of France, having the most delicious lamb dish. Hearing a commotion outside I turned to see hundreds of sheep (and lambs) being herded through town. Right then and there, I resolved to: a) come back the next evening at the same time to photograph the scene, and b) never eat lamb again.
Arcadia is the mythological home of Pan and pastoral paradise represented in poetic fantasy. This scene, with sheep kicking up dust in the shadow of a medieval abbey on the coast of Normandy, is my idea of a poetic fantasy.
I am now teaching workshops at the Albuquerque Photographers' Gallery and so far, it has been going very well. My first, Personal Vision: Taking Control of the Creative Process", was held on September 12th. It was sold out and everyone seemed interested and engaged.
I've just scheduled my second workshop for Wednesday, November 7th, 2012:
“People Photography: A Photojournalist’s Approach”
Ever wonder how some news photographers are able to photograph people in a way that looks natural and captures their personality? The ability to approach strangers, to connect with them quickly on an emotional level and come away with a revealing photograph, is a skill that takes time and practice to develop. But it can be learned.
“People Photography: A Photojournalist’s Approach” draws on the instructor’s nearly thirty years ofphotojournalism experience to give participants insight on how to create meaningful photographs that show emotion and tell a story. Learn how to connect with and relax your subject, how to use environment to make a more telling portrait, how to capture genuine moments as they happen, and how to use available light to your advantage. This is not traditional studio portraiture.
This two-hour class is geared toward advanced beginning to intermediate photographers, or those at any level who are looking for a little extra inspiration. You may bring one or two of your own photos (either a print or jpeg on a flash drive) for critique, depending on available time at the end of the class.
For more information check out the APG website, or email me. You can also check out my work at www.janetworne.com*Janet Worne has been a professional photographer for more than 30 years, most of that time as a photojournalist. While working for newspapers in three states, she has covered a wide variety of subjects, including sports, news, features, and art. She has won numerous awards from ANMPAS, Associated Press and the National Press Photographers Association (NPPA), among others. Some of her work is in the permanent collection at The National Museum for Women in the Arts in DC. She has taught college level photojournalism and served as a mentor for NPPA. Janet currently lives in New Mexico, pursuing fine art photography.
"You don't take a photograph. You ask, quietly, to borrow it."
-Pentax advertisement
Rhythm permeates our world. Music tempts us to move with the flow of notes and the pacing of words on a page encourages us to stay up late to finish a favorite book. Our bodies pulse with the constant rhythmic beating of our hearts, a comforting reminder that we live. Rhythm is alive in the visual arts as well.
Rhythm is “a strong, regular, repeated pattern of movement and sound”, according to the Oxford American Dictionary. In his book, Photography & the Art of Seeing, Freeman Patterson says: “Rhythm is a way to use pattern. A pattern may be repeated at random, but if it is repeated at regular intervals, we speak of rhythm.”
If rhythm is movement within repeated patterns, then photography is fertile ground in which to harness that flow. The patterns can be lines, shapes or color, and the positioning of the repetitions can lead the eye in the direction of the photographer’s choosing and influence the tone or feel of the image. In the examples shown here, black lines bending into progressively smaller and smaller triangles sweep us up the stairwell, and repeated colors and shapes of boats march the viewer diagonally across the page in rows. Notice how each rhythm may have a different pace, sometimes dynamic, sometimes plodding.
We can break it down to the step-by-step technique and use it consciously or we can let it flow without thought from that place deep inside us where inspiration is born. You know you have succeeded when you look at it and it feels right in your gut.
When you create a photograph, what is it that urges you to click the shutter at that moment? When purchasing a photograph in your favorite gallery, what is it about that image that called out to you and stopped you in your tracks?
Many people simply don’t know. It is that indefinable something that whispers in your ear so softly that only your subconscious can hear. Is it the composition or colors? Perhaps you felt a special connection to the subject of the photo. Whatever reason you come up with, it can probably be drilled down to the very core of what makes a great photograph. How it makes you feel. And because we all look at art through a different cultural and experiential lens, a single image can elicit a different visceral response from everyone who views it.
Take this photo, “Shaker Dreams”, as an example. What feelings does it evoke in you when you look at it? Does it make you feel nostalgic? Scared? Hopeful?
I’ve had a variety of responses to this photograph. Some people find it a bit scary. They don’t want to know what’s behind the door and the last thing they would want to do is climb those stairs to find out. Others are filled with hope and anticipation. They are bursting to know what is behind a door with such glorious light spilling through its window.
How does it make you feel?
“A photograph is neither taken nor seized by force. It offers itself up. It is the photo that takes you. One must not take photos.”
--Henri Cartier-Bresson
It begins with a gentle lightening of the horizon. No more than a hint of what is to come. So subtle and gradual is the beginning that it is not always recognized for what it is. It could be the lights of a nearby town or the harsh beacons of a highway. It couldn’t be the dawn. Could it?
There is something magical about the moment when night changes to day. That precise moment is calculated and published in newspapers. The longest and shortest days are celebrated as solstices. Even birds become silent in reverence for that moment.
Then it pounces. Minute by minute the sky evolves and suddenly a new day is born. Each one begins in a different way. Sometimes it’s a symphony of light and shadow blending brush strokes of crimson and pink over a dark, dusky blue. Always changing, never waiting until the camera is in the right place, never hesitating for “just one more picture”.
And sometimes the dawning is cold and dreary. Black drains from the sky to reveal a gray, monochromatic world, as if it were veiled to the eye. Trees float into focus as the minutes silently pass.
When enough of the new light filters through, the day begins in earnest. The wind picks up, birds begin to sing, and people move about. Suddenly, it’s another day.
The dawning of the New Year has always been a time of hope, a new beginning. There is the feeling that no matter how dark and dismal the past has been this day is the first day of the rest of your life. It is a chance to start fresh. Past mistakes don’t count.
But why this day? Why do we not celebrate it on the first day of spring? Or on the day of the first new moon? The fact that different countries and religions celebrate it on different days tells us that it’s not the particular day that is important. It’s the feelings we associate with it. So wouldn’t it be nice if we made a fresh start every morning as the sun slips past the horizon to banish the dark corners of our lives?
Happy New Year. Happy new day.