A Journey Begins
Back in 2002 I did a bicycle trip along the Mediterranean coast of Spain. I started in Valencia and rode as far as Cadiz. It was summer, the temperatures were in the hundreds, and still I was pushing on at about 80-100km a day. At the end of each leg I would ride my bike up to the shore, change into my trunks and swim in whatever beach I had happened upon. To say the least it was an amazing adventure.
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| Another day, another beach |
At one point, after a swim somewhere in the vicinity of the town of Aguilas, I peddled in search of a place to set up camp. A large square lot overgrown with bushes and other unruly vegetation caught my eye. It was the perfect place. No one would see or bother me for the night. So I went in on a small footpath, and low and behold, in a hidden clearing there was already a guy with his tent. He recognized me as a fellow traveler and tried to speak to me in broken Spanish. I asked if he knew English. It turned out he was American.
The scruffy, sunburnt, twenty-something man was on a year long trip around Southern Europe, and whether it was by bus, train or hitch hiking he had already covered thousands of kilometers. And the things he had seen. They were astonishing. Places like secluded caves in Greece, small town festivals in Italy, and endless sunflower fields to the west where I was headed.
"And I've got the photos to show for it," he said with a gleaming smile. He pulled out a black bag and produced a huge SLR camera.
"Jesus. You've been carrying that monstrosity around with you?"
"Of course. How else am I gonna take photos?"
"I dunno. Maybe with one of these." I took out my own camera and showed it to him, a small, plastic Fuji disposable model.
The man laughed. "You're here in this beautiful, mind blowing place, and that's what you bring?"
I was almost offended by this response. So what if I had a cheap, disposable camera? I was taking pictures all the same.
Oh how ignorant I was then.
The truth be told, that disposable camera was a piece of garbage which barely took serviceable photos and only in the most optimum of lighting conditions. It pains me to think of all the places I traveled and used them. There was, for example, the time I biked the Road to Santiago pilgrimage route in northern Spain. I started in Roncesvalles in the Pyrenees Mountains. A thin layer of pristine snow had blanketed the local monastery right before I arrived, and soon it was on to the lower lying areas of Basque Country where I rode through small villages characterized by colorful triangular rooftops and eaves that nearly touched the ground. The place was so utterly breathtaking, it were as if I had leapt into the pages of a storybook. Then after another week of intense legwork, I arrived at the massive Gothic cathedral in Leon. It was the day before Easter and the elderly nuns dragged me to prayer service. We went to a small side room lit with candles and I sat quiet while they sang in the most angelic of voices. And here I am today with no pictures to show for it. I have only my memory of that event which grows fainter by the year. I no longer even remember what the kind faces of those women looked like.
In my life there have been a dozen such trips. And over the years I began to realize I should be taking more pictures. But I never cared to spend the money on a nice camera let alone make the effort to figure out how to use one. Another problem was film development. It was such a hassle and I didn't like the idea of replacing rolls. So I stuck to disposable cameras. I suppose that is something, because even crappy pictures are better than no pictures at all.
Anyhow, here are some photos from what I now dub my "Disposable Era of Photography."
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| Studying abroad in Yokohama |
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| Hitch hiking back after 3,000km bike trip in Chile |
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| While teaching English in Taipei |
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| Anti-APEC demonstration in Chile |
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| Korea War Memorial in Washington DC |
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| Statue in Sendai during hitch hiking trip |
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| Cathedral at end of Road to Santiago |
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| Favorite bar in Madrid |
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| Rock of Gibraltar |
Enter Japan
Well, eight years ago I came to Japan. My dad had insisted I take a cheap digital camera with me. It was easier to use than a film one, but I still employed it sparingly. There were the big trips to Europe, Korea and around Japan as well as some photos in Tokyo. A few months into my stay a friend pointed out that the camera was outdated. He said I should get a new model because in Japan you could get them at the best price. I heeded his advice and went to the Big Camera store in Shinjuku. Without giving it much thought I purchased one of the cheapest models on the floor, a Nikon Coolpix digital compact.
The Coolpix was a definite improvement, though looking back it was still not a good camera. I became frustrated not being able to take decent photos indoors. But I had got the thing and was determined to get my money's worth. So I used it when I traveled around Japan and overseas in the US, Thailand and India. In spite of the camera's weaknesses I was still able to get the occasional good shot.
I now present photos from my "Compact Era of Photography."
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| Beach in Colombo, Sri Lanka |
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| Kichijoji Park, Tokyo |
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| Temple ceremony in Seoul, Korea |
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| Fruit vendor in Kanchanburi, Thailand |
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| Beach in San Diego |
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| Eiffel Tower |
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| Jeronimos Monastery, Lisbon |
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| Yakiho Shrine, Niigata, Japan |
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| Meat Vendor, New Delhi |
The One Named Akira
I very well may have continued to use the Coolpix camera on my second trip back to America had it not been for one fateful encounter. Allow me to elaborate. I have a friend who is a train conductor in Ishikawa prefecture. I went up to visit him for a special occasion. Some of his other friends had got together and chipped in to rent his train for a back and forth trip on the Noto Line. They wanted to have a party onboard while he was driving. The day of, I got on with my box lunch and canned beer. A young woman had brought her guitar and played mellow blue grass tunes, kids ran up and down the aisle, and I used my digital compact to take pictures. Then I noticed a guy with a big fancy Canon DSLR camera. I pointed him out and someone told me he was a pro photographer by the name of Akira.
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| Akira, years later in Kenroku Park |
I stared at him for a while, and I couldn't stop thinking how cool he looked with his camera. His hand worked the buttons on the body and the other twisted the lens, and not once did he remove his eye from the viewfinder. He was so confident and graceful in his movements that I became determined to talk to him in the hopes that some of his photo taking mojo might rub off on me.
I later introduced myself and said, "That's a nice camera you got there."
"Yeah. Well, I thought I'd bring my high end model for the occasion."
"You mind if I see it?"
"No, not at all. Go ahead."
I picked up the black beast and weighed it in my hand. It was dense, blocky and of solid construction. "Can I take a shot?"
"Sure."
I peered through the optical viewfinder and marveled at its size and clarity. Next, I zeroed in on the lady with the guitar. My finger pressed down on the button, and the frame flashed black while the shutter made a crisp sound. It was a sublime moment.
"So what do you think?" I asked, showing Akira the picture on the camera's LCD screen.
"Wow, that's pretty good."
"Really? But anyone could take nice pictures with a camera like this."
"No. That's not true. A consistently good photographer must have an eye for it."
"An eye eh? But how would I know if I have one or not?"
"Let me see your camera. I'll tell you."
I handed over my small Coolpix compact. Akira turned on the LCD screen and toggled through the pictures. On every second or third photo he paused a moment, and then continued on to the next. When he was done he gave the camera back and said, "You definitely have potential."
Those simple words weighed in the air, and as they sunk in, something inside me changed. I was from that moment set on improving as a photographer. First I went back to my town and picked up a used D80 Nikon DSLR along with a 18-200mm Tamron lens. That became the camera setup I would use for the next four years. We went many places together--America, Egypt, Australia, Mongolia, China, the Philippines, Laos and so on. However, I still remained a point-and-shoot photographer. I let the camera do everything without thinking about the technical process that produced the images. This limited how I could improve. So while I did develop a greater sense of light and composition, that was about it.
Well, that brings us to my "Point-and-Shoot Era of Photography." Here are some photos:
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| Mongol prayer mound |
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| Great Pyramid |
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| Inuyama Festival |
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| Taos Pueblo |
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| Forbidden City |
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| Neighbor's shack in flames |
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| Monument Valley |
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| Hikonyan |
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| Grand Canyon |
Technicalities
The next big step came in March of last year. I bought a brand new D5100 Nikon and it did not come cheap. To justify the purchase I needed to to take my photography skills to the next level. I began by studying the basics. There was no shortage of free information online. I read up on ISO, aperture and shutter speed--the three settings that determine exposure. Any current model will automatically set these based on what the camera's sensors meter, the result of which is a nicely exposed image. But the system is not perfect. It flounders in low light situations and does not always provide the ideal depth of focus. An understanding of how a camera's sensors meter light and other ambient conditions is also important to optimize performance.
A camera is a complex tool. Between the time a person presses the button to autofocus and clicks for the shot, over a dozen technical processes are involved, many of which can be altered in advance using the different function buttons. How these are set will drastically change the final image, sometimes for the better, and sometimes for the worse. To know the difference is a matter of trial and error. I'll give an example. When taking an up close picture of a flower or food it is best to use a narrower aperture. This will compensate for the shallow depth of field and bring more of the object into focus. The trade off is that less light will reach the image sensor and the photo will require a longer shutter speed to expose properly. Boosting the ISO could help shorten the shutter time, but it will come at the cost of noise, those grainy points that detract from the quality and detail of an image. This can become an issue if you are in a dimly lit bar trying to photograph your buffalo wings. The picture might blur, turn out underexposed (dark), or be too noisy. But in a bright area, enough light will reach the image sensor to allow for a nice, quick exposure regardless. And I didn't even touch up on using the flash. That is a beast on to itself. When used carelessly it ruins the look of an image by making the subject appear bright and burned out, especially the faces of people. Yet for every problem there is a solution. A change in equipment may be necessary, the most essential of which is a lens swap.
For the time being no lens can do it all. Each has its strengths and weaknesses. A zoom lens for example lets you move in and out for added flexibility when framing a shot. That of course is a good thing. Its weakness is that the lens has more internal elements which cause greater interference before the light reaches the image sensor. This leads to a loss in sharpness and some distortion. Sharpness is also affected by the aperture of the shot. Every lens has its optimum sharpness aperture setting and shooting at that setting will give the clearest image of a subject.
You also have to think about what lens is best suited for what situation. If you're out to take pictures of birds nothing but a telephoto lens will do. Those provide major zoom power and you'll need it because there's no way you are going to get close to the winged critters unless you're shooting pigeons. And let's say you want to get photos of stars. In that case you should use a wide angle lens. It will bring more of the sky into the frame, and allow for longer exposure times because the large frame pushes the stars farther back. Mind you, stars are not stationary, and the closer they are in the frame the quicker they move. Think of a ship in the distance. It passes at a slow speed. But if you're right next to it, it will zoom by. Anyhow, after about twelve seconds stars begin to trace lines. For really long exposures this creates circles or semi circles. You will also need a tripod to keep the camera in place. Lastly, an understanding of weather and light pollution is critical. It is best to shoot on a cold moonless night, or after the rain, when the sky is clearest.
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| Shy swallow |
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| Milky Way over Wyoming |
I've learned a lot about photography, and it is knowledge I have applied and/or gained in the field. This past year I think I took around 20,000 photos. Perhaps more. Anyone who knows me knows that I take my camera everywhere now. I guess the same could be said for a person with a current cellphone. But the difference between a smartphone camera and a good DSLR is like that between a Honda Civic and a Lamborghini Diablo. While both will get you from A to B, the degree of performance is what sets them apart. Once you truly feel and understand that difference you'll never want to go back to using the former.
And it is not only the volume of photos taken or having the right tool that matters. The lengths a person goes to to get their shot also determines the quality of the result. My crab photo outing from the other day is a good example of this. By my apartment I often saw the eight legged things crawling in the shadows and decided it was high time to corner one to photograph it up close. So I looked around and discovered a ditch behind the building parking lot. It was filled with rain water and had become home to hundreds of the crustaceans. Unfortunately, when I drew near they disappeared into the bushes, cracks and little holes they had dug. To get some pictures I had to capture a small one. But even then the thing kept moving, trying to escape from my hand. I was using a macro lens and extension tube which narrowed my frame down to only about one inch across. In that situation movement of any type will screw up the composition. Moreover, autofocus is useless in macrophotography because of the very shallow the depth of field. You can imagine the difficulty involved, and after struggling to get some decent shots l was still not satisfied. What I really wanted was a photo of a big colorful crab. The problem is those suckers have formidable pincers and I wouldn't dare pick one up. I needed to use a stick to sweep a fancy, red male into the open. He was extremely fast and did everything in his power to get away. But with my stick I kept the crab where I wanted him. After about five minutes he grew exhausted and stopped, drawing his limbs in towards his hardened carapace. The game of cat and mouse had payed off. I now had the opportunity to get my up close shots.
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| Got ya! |
In the end this photo outing entailed a fair deal of embarrassment. I mean people were going to and from their cars while I was scrambling around on my knees at the edge of the parking lot with an oversized camera. I must have looked like a looney. But I was too absorbed in the task to care. What can I say? Consistently good photos do not come without sacrifice. So while an amateur takes one shot and walks away, the pro might take 30 or climb a wall to get a better angle. Combined with a greater understanding of the technical aspects of the art it is easy to understand why their results are a step above the rest.
Anyhow, the whole focus here is on my development as a photographer, which I feel is linked to my environment. In that regard I am fortunate to be in Japan. This is the best place for taking photos. Many will disagree with such a brazen statement but in my mind not a single iota of doubt exists. Whether a person visits one of the country's massive, hyper modern cities with their abundance of fashionable, self absorbed youths, or sees the rural farms and the gentle elderly hard at work, there is a wide variety of things to shoot. But I do not base my assertion on the photo opportunities alone. It is also about the how the people here view photography.
If you by chance come to Japan and you will see that this country promotes and appreciates photos to a greater extent than any other place. It has effectively become the photography Mecca of the world. Just look at your camera. Chances are the model is a Japanese brand. The same goes for your lenses. That said, every picture you take has a little piece of heart and soul that came from the engineers who made the tool, and none have done more for camera innovation in the last 50 years than the Japanese. Even so, there is little to no ego involved. That is what I like most about photo taking here. It is not about who has been at it longer, or whose camera is better. The people do it for their enjoyment, and their lack of competitiveness also makes them very willing to share their techniques and insights with others.
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| Common sight in Japan |
Thanks to this wonderful country I am now a better photographer than before. And I pride myself on this. My crab shots, for example, are unlike anything I have seen. I'm sure I could find similar, if not better photos on the Internet, but among the people I know, I alone can take such shots. The same goes for a fair amount of my work. To a larger extent though, my passion for photography is driven by my outgoing spirit. I was never one to stay at home. I go many paces and do many things. By taking photos I am able to share those experiences with others. That is what keeps me shooting. Not to be better than the rest, but to capably capture the majesty and beauty that I see in my life. The images I create will one day help me to remember the good times as well.
An Open Heart
Over the years I have also learned to find beauty in the mundane. Seeing how I tend to focus on the positive side of things, it was an inevitable outcome. And that reminds me. A Japanese friend once told me that after viewing my pictures on Facebook she had thought only a person with an open heart could have taken them. I laughed. They were flattering words but I didn't understand what she was getting at. Now, having given it some thought, I think I do. Everyday I look for beauty in my surroundings and I am very generous with what I would classify in that category. It could be a father holding the hand of his young daughter, a leaf caught beneath a windshield wiper, a cloud hanging low on the horizon, the wild curvature of an exposed root, or how light reflects off a puddle. Many people are oblivious to the subtle wonder of these things. And yet I who have seen and experienced so much of the world in my 34 years am still impressed with the simple charms of life's everyday facets. It takes a certain kind of outlook to carry on in such a manner, or perhaps, just an open heart.
