OLYMPUS OM77, 200 ZOOM 1987
AN ESSAY ON ART AND PHOTOGRAPHY ENTITLED
CATTAILS AND POND PLANTS.
THIS PHOTO IS ONE OF A SERIES OF 80s photos shot with Olympus OM 77, one of the best cameras I have owned.
Now shooting digital for several reasons: economy and convenience.
When I first began shooting back in the early 60s, I used a format camera furnished by the USN, did my own developing, etc. However, due to impatience on my part and the desire to shoot a wide and varied subject matter, I switched to a Petri 35 MM and abandoned the world of FStops, shutter speeds, etc. I put it on A and that's where it's been ever since.
Not exactly a purist by any stretch of the imagination, I was still reluctant to switch to digital. "How could a digital pick up all the details?" I asked myself. And then I answered my question with a question: AM I SHOOTING DETAILS OR SUBJECT MATTER? So, what makes a great photo? A lot of details or a wide brush stroke that attracts attention and demands the response: "Man, what a fantastic photo!"
Rarely have I heard admirers of great photos discussing the finer points or the details. Perhaps that old adage about first impressions making lasting impressions has some value that is too frequently overlooked in the world of tech-foto. That photo that overshadows all photos is the photo that says "look at me and look at me now!" The photo above does not have that type of impact; it is, simply, a photo that is calm, has a decent blend of colors and hues and a better than average depth of field blur. I should stick to watercolors; they are simpler. But then, of course, there's the matter of getting the washes just right, the distance so so, the balance and composition just right.
How does one figure out when they are really an artist? It's a public decision, really. And one way to figure out the real artists on Flickr is to check the comments, the followings. There are some really fantastic artists exhibiting and if one is not careful, one who is beginning can be overcome by the talent and success of others. To combat this tricky way of being tricked to quit trying is to trick oneself into believing that one's work is expressive of one's personal view, one's special way of seeing things differently.
Sooner or later, I have found, one's best work is usually identified. Art is not, however, a popularity contest, but time and lenth of exposure does matter. I have browsed numerous galleries and seen some great work with only a few complimentary comments. Reason? The individual has not added enough tags or added tags that are tired and too general. By Robert L. Huffstutter
OLYMPUS OM77, 200 ZOOM 1987
AN ESSAY ON ART AND PHOTOGRAPHY ENTITLED
CATTAILS AND POND PLANTS.
THIS PHOTO IS ONE OF A SERIES OF 80s photos shot with Olympus OM 77, one of the best cameras I have owned.
Now shooting digital for several reasons: economy and convenience.
When I first began shooting back in the early 60s, I used a format camera furnished by the USN, did my own developing, etc. However, due to impatience on my part and the desire to shoot a wide and varied subject matter, I switched to a Petri 35 MM and abandoned the world of FStops, shutter speeds, etc. I put it on A and that's where it's been ever since.
Not exactly a purist by any stretch of the imagination, I was still reluctant to switch to digital. "How could a digital pick up all the details?" I asked myself. And then I answered my question with a question: AM I SHOOTING DETAILS OR SUBJECT MATTER? So, what makes a great photo? A lot of details or a wide brush stroke that attracts attention and demands the response: "Man, what a fantastic photo!"
Rarely have I heard admirers of great photos discussing the finer points or the details. Perhaps that old adage about first impressions making lasting impressions has some value that is too frequently overlooked in the world of tech-foto. That photo that overshadows all photos is the photo that says "look at me and look at me now!" The photo above does not have that type of impact; it is, simply, a photo that is calm, has a decent blend of colors and hues and a better than average depth of field blur. I should stick to watercolors; they are simpler. But then, of course, there's the matter of getting the washes just right, the distance so so, the balance and composition just right.
How does one figure out when they are really an artist? It's a public decision, really. And one way to figure out the real artists on Flickr is to check the comments, the followings. There are some really fantastic artists exhibiting and if one is not careful, one who is beginning can be overcome by the talent and success of others. To combat this tricky way of being tricked to quit trying is to trick oneself into believing that one's work is expressive of one's personal view, one's special way of seeing things differently.
Sooner or later, I have found, one's best work is usually identified. Art is not, however, a popularity contest, but time and lenth of exposure does matter. I have browsed numerous galleries and seen some great work with only a few complimentary comments. Reason? The individual has not added enough tags or added tags that are tired and too general. By Robert L. Huffstutter