Talking Photos

Talking pictures

May 12, 2017

(Republished from a 2017 article on danmurano.com.)

Before computers took over so much of my time in the 1990's, I read every photo magazine that came into my hands. Some of them taught me to make better photos, while others left me lusting for gear and gadgets and salivating over camera ads that promised to ratchet my skills beyond the nth level of greatness.

I miss the look and feel of those old cameras. I miss their ruggedness, their mechanical dials, batteries that lasted for months, if not years, whirring springs, light meter needles, flapping mirrors, and hinged backs that would swing open to load up with whatever choice of film my budget made affordable. Whether color or black and white, negative or slide, high speed or low speed - each choice was considered in the field and for economic reasons, so was the number of frames I could expose. My frugal mindset of fewer frames made me a better photographer and persists to this day. Having to edit through dozens of photos to find the right frame is tedious and time consuming. Better to get it right on the spot, part of the process for me. I find that the most painful part of the photographic process

Have fun and be a better photographer

When people ask me how to improve their photography, the best advice I can offer is: Study your photos.

Study your photos before you press the shutter release, and study them when you see them on screen. Even better, make prints and tack them up where you can look at them every day. You may be surprised to see something different each time you look. Ask yourself what makes one image stronger than one pinned beside it. What weakens the image? What is the subject? Were you close enough, or too far away? Are you sick of seeing it after a week?

I make notes about the prints that I like.

Make a set of cropping L's

I have thousands of my old prints and repeatedly examine them, one at a time, setting each one on a clean piece of mat board where I frame it with cropping L's.

Cropping L's are one of my favorite tools. I make them from stock mats or from mats that were cut to the wrong size. I like them clean and wide so my eye's not distracted while I'm framing and cropping my pictures. A slight crop or tilt can dramatically change a photo's dynamic. L's also help me decide how much of a margin I want between the mat's inside border and edge of the print. I make notes when I'm doing this.

Cropping L's also help you determine print margins.

Examine the work of other photographers

Another bit of advice I offer is: examine and appreciate the work of other photographers, present and past. Borrow or buy photo books, visit galleries and attend exhibitions. Pay attention to how other photographers present their work.

When I left my hometown in the 1980's, I packed my car with clothes, my camera gear and darkroom, and a stack of carefully chosen photography books. Some were technical volumes and others were collections of photographs. Two I especially loved were collections of work by Henri Cartier-Bresson and Andre Kertesz. I also had a thick volume called: Photography: Venice '79 that contained photo essays, writings, and a wide range of images. These books and others inspired me to branch out and experiment.

Read, look, and think about what you see, and then go out and make images.

Don't give up

There were years when I made no pictures at all. I got absorbed in writing, living, surviving ... and I regret not having photos to show for those times, but life happens. I remember and sometimes mourn the pictures I trashed, but at the time, paring down was a necessity. I do regret having thrown away negatives and slides. Once in a while, I come across a lousy print or a contact sheet and wish I could make a new print. Oh well, maybe those images only look better in memory anyway. Still, don't be too quick to toss your work in the trash.

However your photographic adventure works out for you, it's important not to get discouraged. Keep working and enjoy what you do. That's the key to any success.