Blue Planet Photography

What is a camera club? Generally, it’s a group of individuals who enjoy photography. There are a variety of camera clubs, but of the clubs I’ve primarily had contact with they fall into two categories. In one, the emphasis is competition and in the other, education. I’ve been a member and held officer positions in both types of clubs. They both offer the opportunity for photographers to meet, exchange ideas, techniques and methods, discuss the current state of affairs, etc. But, the competitive clubs, in my experience, lack the ability to provide a satisfying educational experience. I have to say that I am no longer a member of a competition-based club. This article is about my attempt to reconcile the issue of the goals of a competition-based camera club with a member (myself) interested in learning and experimenting with photography. I originally wrote this article for our club newsletter in 2000 and I’ve made some revisions here to make it more current. As far as I know, however, times haven’t changed that much since then.

My writing the article for our club newsletter was spurred by an article written in the November 2000 issue of the PSA Journal (Photographic Society of America). Many competition-based camera clubs are also members of PSA and club members are encouraged to become members as well. PSA is an international organization promoting photography. The author, James Lynch, discussed competition-oriented photography, the common status-quo among camera clubs. He wrote about how it relates and differs from non-competition photography and, peripherally, the effect it has on new club members trying to fit into the routine of a competition-based club. It’s something I wrestled with during my 7 years as a club member and this article is based upon my personal experiences.

To outline, a competition-based club is generally split into sections; prints and slides (now digital projection or some variant). Prints are divided into commercial (prints made at a commercial lab or by someone other than the image maker) and those printed by the maker. The prints and slides are viewed during separate meetings and are scored (judged) on a numerical scale (1 - 5 or 1 - 9) by a panel of 3 members. High scoring prints and slides move on to regional competitions (multi-club competitions) and possibly to national and international competitions. Winners receive ribbons, trophies, plaques, and other recognitions. This type of photography I call “Club Photography”.

An educational club has no formal competition element. Of course, there might be friendly competition between members, but no formal scoring tabulation, awards, or other competitive elements are present. Meetings generally involve an educational program, informal or formal image reviews and comments for prints, slides, and projected images, discussion and social activities. Clubs may participate in monthly, quarterly or yearly exhibits and may have their own exhibit space or gallery. Educational clubs can be loosely or highly-organized.

“Club Photography” is somewhat distinct from other forms of photography, such as fine art, stock, and snapshots, although the line can be blurry. Typically, the purpose of club photography is to seek high competition scores through high-impact images of subjects easily recognized, although represented in new and original ways conforming to the generally accepted “rules” of photographic composition such as the rule of thirds, leading lines, S and C curves, focus sharp front to back, main subject large in the frame, etc. 

That’s a tough definition for a new member to get their mind around, especially when their interest may not be competition, but improving their photographic skills. An accurate definition might be more in line with Mr. Lynch’s description of club photography where it is the result of “selective vision” acquired over time, based on past experience and familiarity with what the judges find appealing. This selective vision, however, can be detrimental to personal photographic vision by limiting the photographer’s vision to a certain aesthetic. Mr. Lynch recounts (as we all can) a conversation with a friend who recently returned from a trip to Australia but “did not see much to take” while there, meaning there weren’t any opportunities to create club photographs. Thus, he returned from his trip “empty-handed.”

The appeal of club photographs may also be limited only to the circle of club photographers. Mr. Lynch tells of a public exhibition he held of his award-winning club photographs. The public was not impressed. Deciding that his personal photographic vision was lacking, he attempted to relearn how to see. He found it difficult to lose the “blinders of competitive vision” and open up to his personal vision once more. With effort, he was able to reduce the “what will a judge think” criteria and regain the joy of photographing what appealed to him, personally.

So, what’s a camera club and new member to do when competition and personal vision clash? This was my dilemma. A camera club can really only concentrate on one thing; competition or education. It’s very difficult to do both well in the limited time available. In my case, I came to the club with a somewhat established, but growing, personal photographic vision. I knew the club was competition-based, which suited me fine because I was seeking feedback on my work. However, I didn’t understand club photography and ran into trouble when my personal vision didn’t meet the criteria of the competition-oriented judging. The feedback I was seeking didn’t exist in that venue.

Like Mr. Lynch, I had to change my vision, but in the opposite direction. My personal style images often rated much lower in the scoring than other, I thought, less interesting, images. For a while I was frustrated that no one seemed to be “getting it.” I attempted to try and understand what made a good club photograph before I could use the critique (scoring feedback) to my advantage and apply it to my personal vision. My initial thoughts were that this change was educational, maybe I could discover a different way of seeing. That wasn’t the case. My frustration grew as I compromised my way of seeing to meet a “standardized” vision of the ideal photograph. I thought of quitting the club, but my interest in photography won and I stayed. I was determined to get something out of it.

After a while I still hadn’t figured it out. It became a game I didn’t want to play, and I wanted to create photographs the way I wanted to, not just to appease a judge to get a few points or a ribbon. I left the club and joined another that was less rigid and prone to sharing and accepting of various skill levels and techniques. Because when it comes to art, nobody has a lock on the right technique or process.

My conclusions are that a camera club is a good to excellent photography resource, but the benefit is based on what you decide to get (or need) out of the partnership.

Competition can limit personal photgoraphic vision, but it can also push a beginner and “old timer” alike to try new techniques.

Feedback from a variety of individuals is invaluable to honing your personal vision and improving your skill.

Shoot what you know and love first before trying to please others. Maybe your style will inspire others.

Enter images into compeition for the feedback more than for the awards.

Take the comments you feel apply to your personal vision and ignore the rest.

And most importantly, have fun!

Photographers are schooled in the typical terminology of the art; shutter, aperture, depth of field, reciprocity, megapixel, workflow, ISO/ASA, the list goes on…

The definition of creativity is subjective and discussions in photography forums abound on the meaning and process of creativity and rarely will you find consensus agreement on the exact definition of the term. Creativity, however you define it, is obviously an important component in photography. The “creative” treatment of a subject in a photograph is what makes the image so interesting to look at after all. It’s the basis of your art. It’s how we translate what we see, feel, and experience in the three-dimensional space of our surroundings to the two-dimensional plane of a photographic print so it creates a similar response in others to the one we had during its creation.

Over the years, I’ve come across a handful of “esoteric” terms related to seeing, or vision, in photography that attempt to give description and definition to what is basically the undescribable. The definitions of these terms are vague (purposefully?) and can be interpreted in a number of ways. But, they provide the general idea of the concept you can then use and interpret with your own personal expression.

Bokeh (bohk-eh): The original Japanese spelling is “boke”, but Mike Johnson, then editor of Photo Techniques Magazine, claims to have added the “h” in a 1997 issue to help readers properly pronounce the word, typically mispronounced as in “spoke”. Boke(h) translates roughly to “fuzzy” and refers to the way the lens renders out-of-focus highlights (OOFHs). When an element is out of focus, each point of light becomes a disc (circle of confusion). The appearance of the disc, the bokeh, can be pleasing or unpleasant (distracting) based upon the size, shape and light distribution across the OOFH disc. Some have suggested the term referencing bokeh in photography should be boke-aji to differentiate it from the original Japanese meaning of boke referring to an individual with a “fuzzy” or confused mind.

Bokeh is influenced mainly by the lens and its optical design, the aperture (size and shape), the way the scene is lit, subject motion, and the number of OOFHs and other out-of-focus elements in the scene. Some lenses produce more pleasing bokeh than others. OOFHs that exhibit a natural-looking, smooth and coherent appearance, soft edges, basic circular or oval shapes, and consistent tones are more pleasing than OOFHs that are choppy patterns of light, sharp and angle-edged, donut-shaped, or double images.

Chiaroscuro (kee-ahroh-scyooroh): The arrangement of light and dark portions or elements of a composition, without regard to color, affecting the entire composition or at least where some elements of the composition show a transition from light to dark. This arrangement of light and dark (also called shading) can be dramatic or subtle, gives the photograph depth and increases emotional impact. Mostly related to black and white photography, and in particular figure studies of the human body, chiaroscuro also applies to color and other subjects and subject matter. The idea is to use light and shadow to give volume to the subject and to add drama to the picture story.

Wabi-sabi (wahbi-sahbi): Two separate Japanese words that come together to form an aesthetic centered in the acceptance of beauty that is imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete. Wabi originally meant the loneliness of living in nature, remote from society, but now refers to rustic simplicity, understated elegance, and defects related to natural or human-made objects that impart a uniqueness to a subject.

The original meaning of Sabi was chill, lean, or withered, but now refers to the beauty that comes with age; the patina, wear, visible repairs and other signs of “maturity” and impermanence.

Wabi-sabi relates more to the transcience and imperfection of human-made constructs relative to the forces of nature rather than to nature and natural object by themselves. I call it “beautiful entropy” and it is also summarized by Richard Powell in Wabi Sabi Simple (2004) as “…nothing lasts, nothing is finished, nothing is perfect.”

Miksang (mik-sang): is a Tibetan work meaning “good eye” which refers not to the typical photographic reference to having a “good eye” but to the photographer having an open, relaxed mind and increased awareness to be able to be “in the moment”, able to see and experience more thoroughly. Miksang is based on the Shambala and Dharma Art teachings of the late meditation master, artist and scholar Chogyam Trungpa, Rinpoche.

The technique can be described as “one moment, one shot”; seeing a composition and taking the shot without regard to further thought about composition, form, structure, technical details, etc. although there is a contemplative component to the process of both inner and outer perception in addition to the somewhat spontaneous nature of the technique.

A bit different from the other terms I’ve defined here, Miksang is specifically taught by a handful of certified instructors, and there are several levels of instruction, each building on the previous knowledge and experience level. The two main websites are http://www.miksang.org/ and http://www.miksang.net/.