In this article, I would like to give you some tips on photographing dragonflies with minimal gear. I’m an amateur landscape and wildlife photographer from France. I graduated in ecology (biodiversity management and biology of conservation) last year before I decided to leave to New Zealand for a one-year trip. I discovered landscape and astrophotography in this beautiful country, but I feel like I sometimes need to get back to wildlife photography which is what I was first interested in. Because of my studies, I spent a lot of time in the field working on insects and especially dragonflies, learning how they live, observing their behavior and understanding the importance of their preservation.
A few years ago, after a request, I started to photograph stage shows. Generally I would classify myself more as a landscape and wildlife photographer, but I was intrigued and certainly up for the challenge technically. My brief was pretty straightforward – no flash, to confine myself to a discreet location by the stage and photograph the main performance of a private school’s annual dance. Firstly, this was a pretty special private school with a great auditorium, professional level choreography and lighting and really high level production values. The performances are sometimes astonishing and the dancers often go on to professional careers.
How do you create clean compositions in a messy environment? It’s a problem every wedding photographer has as bridal prep rarely just means the bride. Bridesmaids, moms and grandmas could all be getting ready in the same location. This inevitably means, for want of a better word, a messy room. Make up brushes, hair dryers, spare clothes. You name it, it will be on the floor or on the work surfaces. So how do you overcome the detritus and create beautiful photographs? In this article, we will explore three tips and tricks that you can experiment with to create clean photographs and hide unsightly objects.
As the wheels of the land rover cracked across the dry crust of the Namibian soil I gazed across the plains ahead. It was July in Namibia and the dry season was in full swing. Arriving from the lush Zambezi river my thoughts were filled with the verdant wetland smell of damp bush and water reeds, Etosha, as I was to discover, is an altogether different beast. Approaching the centrepiece of the park one sees a vast salt pan surrounded by grasslands covered in bone-white sand. The closer you come to the centre the farther you can see on all sides, beyond the painted pale shrubbery into the smoky veil of the veld. Etosha does not rise before you, it expands.
It is no secret that I love using ultra wide-angle lenses for my landscape photography. I was especially excited when I received the new Sigma 12-24mm f/4 DG HSM Art lens just before I departed for my winter Iceland workshop. It has an amazing 122-degree angle of view at 12mm. Many photographers have a difficult time using ultra wide-angle lenses correctly when composing a scene. Why? The simple answer is that they do not get close enough to their subject.
People frequently ask me what exactly is fine art photography? Before I answer, I usually take a big breath and brace myself to answer the question in the time it takes to ride a few floors in an elevator as they usually expect a quick answer. And, despite my apprehension to answering their question, I have come to realize that most good answers are the ones that are simple and direct. Hence, I begin by clarifying that fine art photography does indeed have objective criteria despite falling in the subjective and vast realm of art.
One of the things I find fascinating about photography is that it can be approached from a million directions and can mean a million different things to different people. I enjoy talking to other photographers a lot – I find it very interesting to learn what they personally see in this art and what they shoot for (pun intended) with their images. I have a friend who takes photos of kids and families; she has perfected her portrait techniques over many years. I know another photographer whose work you will never see – odd as that may sound, I get it: it is private, it is the imprint of his heart and soul, he prefers to share his art with his immediate circle only.
I am a novice photographer. I obtained my first DSLR, the Nikon D3200 in May of 2015. I decided to take at least one picture every day of 2016. Obviously, getting out and practicing every day is bound to make a fledgling amateur improve, but I was surprised at the specific principles I learned along the way, and thought I’d pass them on to any fellow novices thinking about a photo challenge of their own.
As I write, I’m looking back on my 36 years as a professional photographer with fondness and gratitude. I chose this profession because I wanted to travel and earn a living while doing so. It’s been an amazing three and a half decades and I’m still excited every time I walk out the door camera in hand. I’m looking forward to the next three decades! I travel in anticipation of serendipitous gifts; the unknown encounter. My camera is my passport to the world – a world I would not have known without that camera.
A few weeks ago, I visited Casa Mila, also known as La Pedrera in Barcelona Spain, which in 1984 was declared a World Heritage site by UNESCO. It was the last civil work designed by renowned architect Antoni Gaudi, who was the best-known practitioner of Catalan Modernism. When visiting La Pedrera, I walked onto the stepped roof called “the garden of warriors”; called so because of the chimneys which appear to protect the sky lights, and discovered to my disappointment that due to the size of the crowd and the presence of a fence, I wouldn’t be able to photograph the entire architecture of the roof in a single shot.