My Head In the Cloud

Written by Alpenglow Images on February 20th, 2012

Its either the romantic or Zen Buddhist in me, but I feel like we have a lot to learn from clouds.  A dramatic sunset can connect two lovers, just as it teaches us a valuable lesson on impermanence.  In thinking about our motivations, inspiration, and voice these analogies can make a lot of sense to an artist.  To understand my photographic ‘voice’ a little better, I turned to another type of cloud.

I recently generated a word cloud based on what I think are a few of my representative blog posts in order to gain a better understanding of my own writing and photography.  Click the cloud to see it larger.

word cloud showing Alpenglow Images' most popular posts

Some words immediately jump out at me and catch my eye.  Canyon.  Light.  Hope.  Utah.  Shapes.  Life.  Believe.  Sandstone.  Bryce.  National.  Park.  

Why these words?  The cliffs and canyons of the Colorado Plateau are a constant source of inspiration and creativity for me.  Perhaps its all the hours I spent there early in my life, but now when I need to mourn or celebrate, feel the need for safety and security, am lacking humility, or simply need to escape, I find solace in the red rock wilderness I have come to know so well.

Places like the Kaiparowits Plateau or the Vermillion Cliffs are still wild, largely undiscovered.  Sometimes, when I look at them in the distance, I wonder whether humans have ever seen all the features there are to be discovered here.  I continue to entertain what may be a naïve hope by believing these landscapes will continue to be protected and loved as they are now, that they will remain unchanged, and give my children and grandchildren a place to visit, possibly even to bring their children someday.


In order to photograph a landscape and capture more than just its superficial beauty, it is my belief that you must first know it, study it, learn about its intricacies and nuances.  In my own development, I learned by studying the locations others had visited–by doing homework from a desk chair.  But as I slowly grew to learn the places that I call home, my voice started to be heard through my images.  To an extent, gear matters, but taking off your gear goggles and focusing energy on introspection and self-evaluation is a start down the road of making truly personal images.

By looking at my cloud, perhaps I didn’t learn anything about myself I don’t already know.  However, by studying the words I use over and over again, perhaps, I can learn a little more about my voice, and most importantly what I want my photography to say to the world.

What does your cloud say about you?  About your photography?

Colorful sandstone in Valley of Fire State Park, Nevada

Layers of Sandstone, January 2012

 

Finding John Muir

Written by Alpenglow Images on February 15th, 2012

This morning, I saw the trailer for a new documentary on the John Muir Trail, “Mile…Mile and a Half.”  It looks like it will be worth a look when it comes out, and I hope I’m able to see it on the big screen.

In 2010, a friend and I hiked approximately the last 1/3 of the JMT, from Devil’s Postpile National Monument to Yosemite Valley.  The scenery is spectacular, showcasing some of the finest peaks in the High Sierra.  Of course, we passed the classic views of the Ritter Range, like Banner Peak, as well as the outstanding Yosemite high country.  The Cathedral Range in Yosemite was among my favorite scenery of the whole trip–the rugged Echo Peaks and Mathes Crest are beautiful.

Our plan was to hike the rest of the JMT, but my friend’s bad knee has pretty much taken him out of the game.  I am now thinking of ways to complete the trail, possibly even by doing it from the beginning in classic through-hike fashion.  There’s something really special about getting in rhythm with the mountain range, and creating your own adventure.

Check out the trailer, which I’ve embedded below.  Hopefully it inspires you to find your own adventure.

MILE…MILE & A HALF (trailer) from The Muir Project on Vimeo.

 

New Portfolio Images

Written by Alpenglow Images on February 6th, 2012

Things have been a little quiet here on the blog this year.  I guess, perhaps, I’ve been suffering from a bit of writer’s block, but I have been enjoying sharing a daily image on Facebook.  I’ll be writing more here on the blog soon.

At the end of 2011, I spent a couple of really enjoyable days at sand dunes in Death Valley National Park, including the Eureka Dunes.  So far this year, I’ve spent a couple of days in southern Nevada at Valley of Fire State Park, as well as the surrounding Lake Mead National Recreation Area, and have been on a few rainy-day hikes at one of my favorite places in southern California.

I’ve uploaded new portfolio images to several of my galleries here on the site; all of these images have resonated with me, for various reasons, and I hope you check them out!  A few (that haven’t already been featured here on the blog) are below.

I hope your 2012 is off to a great start!

Gnarled oaks at the Santa Rosa Plateau Ecological Reserve

A Foggy Day, January 2012

 

Sunrise at Elephant Rock, Valley of Fire State Park, Nevada

The Elephant & The Moon, January 2012

 

Late Afternoon in Bryce Canyon National Park, Utah

Persistence, November 2011

 

Birth Day

Written by Alpenglow Images on January 24th, 2012

Almost four years ago, I watched as my son was born, and have been witness every day since as he’s discovered the world.  Although there are some perceptions of the world we’re born with, we, to a large degree, come into society as a clean slate.  We experiment, learning what works and what doesn’t, we form relationships and opinions.

Yesterday, I celebrated my thirty-third birthday.  I feel fortunate to have a comfortable life, an education, a healthy family, and to have experienced some of the most amazing places on this planet.  Yet, even after thirty three years, I’m surprised at how much I still have to discover about myself.  It seems that the best relationship I continue to form is with myself.  During the course of my life, I’ve known joy, love, and have sadly been confronted with loss.  I guess you could say I’ve lived a full life, and although I still have much to learn, I do know a few things without question.

Some of my most life-shaping decisions have involved not settling for ‘good enough,’ forcing me to go in search of ‘can’t live without.’  Never settle.  Keep looking for it, whatever it is, until you find exactly what you’re looking for.  You’ll know it when you find it.

For me, the wilderness has always been a place to heal, to recover from pain and loss.  For many of us, this is true.  If that’s the nature of loss, what then do we do to confront the loss of nature?  We have to ask ourselves this question seriously, and come up with viable, thoughtful, and long-lasting responses.  With each passing year, our time to provide a lasting legacy grows shorter.

Finally, a contemplative question.  Yesterday on Facebook, someone sent me a birthday wish that really caught my attention: “Don’t know you personally, but know you through your photos. Not much difference, I don’t think.”  I know that in my art, it has become increasingly important for my voice to be heard.  What does your art say about you?

I haven’t always been able to say this, but in my thirty-third year, I rather like the person I’m getting to know.

Colorful Sandstone at Valley of Fire State Park, Nevada

Sandstone Kaleidoscope, January 2012

 

 

Braced against the wind

Written by Alpenglow Images on January 6th, 2012

In Medicine Bow, Wyoming, they say the wind doesn’t blow twenty four hours out of the whole year.  Even in July, the wind is cold, noisy, all-consuming.  One morning, my friend, hiking in the wind near Medicine Bow tripped, and at the last second looked down to see a small prairie rattlesnake strike right between her legs; if she hadn’t stumbled, she would have been bitten.  The wind silenced the snake’s warning rattle.

The wind can be harsh, cold, brutal, and at the same time it can be life-giving, sustaining.  It shapes who we are, and what we have yet to become.  If you’ve lived with it for any period of time, you know what I’m talking about.  It may be much more tangible to see how the wind shapes the landscapes we love so much.  I’m excited to present four new images (See the portfolio here, as well as below) from two of our national parks–Bryce Canyon and Death Valley–that are devoted to the wind that shapes these beautiful, mysterious, and awe-inspiring places.

Bryce Canyon National Park is hugely popular, being part of the “Grand Circle” of the Southwest, and its no wonder why.  Bryce’s hoodoos–formed by the brilliantly colorful Claron Formation–simply glow like no other rock in southern Utah.  In concert with water, the wind shapes the hoodoos into various shapes–from hammers, to broken palaces, to entire cities.  Jagged and raw, Bryce inspires imagination and creativity, and as Ebenezer Bryce pointed out, “its a hell of a place to lose a cow.”

Contrast Bryce’s ruggedness with Death Valley’s seemingly endless sand dunes.  The wind shapes the sand into sensuous, almost erotic, curves that perhaps could be an abstract nude study rather than a grand landscape.  The light plays on the dunes on both a micro and macro scale, providing endless shapes and forms.

Hoodoos in late afternoon light, Bryce Canyon National Park, Utah

Bryce Canyon #1, 2011

 

Hoodoos in late afternoon light, Bryce Canyon National Park, Utah

Bryce Canyon #2, 2011

 

Ibex Dunes, Death Valley National Park, California

Death Valley #1, 2011

 

Ibex Dunes, Death Valley National Park, California

Death Valley #2, 2011

These images signify–in part–the forces that have shaped our national parks.  To help with the continued protection of our public lands, I’ll be donating 25% of the profits from the sale of these prints to the Wilderness Society, which works to make visits to our national parks more meaningful and inspiring.  This is not a limited-edition series of prints, and this offer doesn’t expire–I’ll make the donations forever.  Finally, I am offering special pricing for the purchase of all four of these prints, in any size.  Please visit my purchase page, or contact me for more details.

“The truest art I would strive for in any work would be to give the page the same qualities as earth: weather would land on it harshly, light would elucidate the most difficult truths; wind would sweep away obtuse padding. Finally, the lessons of impermanence taught me this: loss constitutes an odd kind of fullness; despair empties out into an unquenchable appetite for life.”   –Gretel Ehrlich

 

2011 Favorite Images

Written by Alpenglow Images on December 29th, 2011

This time of year always seems to dredge up a lot of nostalgia in me, mostly from the disbelief that the year can’t possibly be over.  It also seems to be the time of year when photographers reflect on their art and the direction its taken over the last twelve months.  For me, its been a very instructive and inspirational year, and I’ve made several images I quite like.

Ansel Adams said, “Twelve significant images in any one year is a good crop.”  I used to think this was ridiculous, but the more I photograph and refine my own style, the more I believe this to be true.  With Adams’ thoughts in mind, I chose what I believe to be my twelve most significant images of the year.  I hope you enjoy them!

Star trails over a hoodoo at the White Pocket

Star trails in northern Arizona, August

 

Dawn at Bisti Badlands, New Mexico

Dawn, northern New Mexico, July

 

Joshua Tree National Park Scene

Late-day light, Mojave Desert, California, May

 

Vishnu Temple, Grand Canyon National Park

Greeting the sun, Grand Canyon National Park, May

 

Waterholes Slot Canyon, Navajo Nation Arizona

Sandstone Seduction, northern Arizona, January

 

An intimate scene in Capitol Reef National Park, Utah

Intimate scene, Utah, July

 

Saguaro Skeleton, near Phoenix Arizona

Saguaro skeleton and moon, Arizona, January

 

Narrows of the Paria River, in southern Utah

Into the canyon, Utah, April

 

Factory Butte near Hanksville Utah

Dawn in the desert, Utah, August

 

Dried mud in the Paria River, Utah

Dried mud, Utah, April

 

Ibex Dunes, Death Valley National Park, California

Windstorm, California, December

 

Eureka Dunes, Death Valley National Park, California

Sensuous curves, California, December

 

Season’s Greetings!

Written by Alpenglow Images on December 24th, 2011

The end of another year is upon us, and I stand in awe of how quickly time flies.  Hopefully your holiday season is filled with happiness and satisfaction when you look back on 2011.  Our house is filled with family right now, and a 3-year-old who is very excited about having Grandma and Grandpa here for a visit, so I’ll probably be pretty quiet on the blog until after the new year.  Looking back, though, I am very grateful for this blog, because of all the repeated visitors who have become good friends, and the new visitors, who I hope will become friends in 2012.

Some posts on this blog generated some great discussion in 2011:

To end 2011 on a very happy note, I received word the other day that one of my images (below) was accepted to Yosemite Renaissance 27, a juried exhibit that will be on display in Yosemite Valley from February 24-May 6.  Mine was one of 48 pieces selected for the exhibit out of almost 700 entries–I’m very proud and happy to have my work displayed in this exhibit.

Reflection of a mountain peak in the John Muir Wilderness, California

High Sierra Reflection, September 2010

I sincerely hope you have a great holiday season, and a wonderful start to 2012!  I am looking forward to seeing where the new year takes us…

 

 

Make Your Own Tripod Tracks by David Leland Hyde

Written by Alpenglow Images on December 19th, 2011

I am really happy to have David Leland Hyde of Landscape Photography Blogger as a guest author today on my blog.  David and I struck up a friendship via our blogs a little over a year ago and I’ve grown to really appreciate his advice and commentary, through his blog posts and emails, on life and photography.  His essay today is inspired by conversations he and I have had over the last several months.  Also, today, I’ve concurrently posted an essay entitled, “Moving Past the Repertoire,” on his blog.

In May 2011, Guy Tal relit the torch on an ongoing controversy over photographers “copying” each other with his blog post, “The Art of Copying.”  Why bring along another photographer’s photograph, seek out his or her exact tripod tracks and steal his exact composition?

Some photographers say they do it to learn. Some photographers do it because they like the photograph and want to make their own print without having to buy it. Some say it is more commercially viable to copycat; others are lazy, or greedy. I ask them and you, the reader if applicable, “Why do you copy other photographers? Do you feel it is ethically OK?”

Is it OK to photograph a similar image, but not exactly the same? How far do you go?

Back in May 2010, I wrote Greg Russell and suggested that his image of Mesa Arch, while well executed, could send people a message about his work inconsistent with his intelligent, experienced perspective on the subjects of place, landscape and wilderness.  Greg has mentioned his own process in photographing Mesa Arch, but did not purposely seek out another photographer’s exact composition. He made a photograph at a location that has been photographed many times and can no longer be claimed by one photographer. Can one photographer claim a location? Not the location, but the composition? Yes, no, maybe? Copyright cases in courts across the land have come to differing conclusions depending on the degree and intent of “copying.”

Plateau Edge, Southern Utah, 1964 © Philip Hyde

Plateau Edge, Southern Utah, 1964 © Philip Hyde (Used with permission)

A magazine years ago beat up Tom Till for photographing Mesa Arch with the sunrise like David Muench had. Now dozens if not hundreds of photographers have produced nearly the same image. A photograph of Mesa Arch at sunrise in a portfolio now says, “I am looking for commercial success more than establishing my own artistic vision.” I wrote to Greg that I hoped he would not take what I said as an attack, but as honest feedback and my own opinion that I did not want to hold back from a friend.

I said that I felt that his photographs of a Death Valley sand dune and of Yosemite Valley were strong, but if placed at the top of his blog with Mesa Arch, the group begins to look like the work of every other landscape photographer from the American West.

“Have you ever tried to sell either the Yosemite or the Death Valley image to magazines?” I asked Greg in my e-mail. “I think you might have a tough time. Not because they are bad photographs, but because they have been done before.” Galen Rowell called it “image maturity,” the concept that regardless of the quality of the image itself, editors may have originally perceived it as unique, but today enough images similar to it have been made that it no longer appears fresh and unusual.

“Look at your own portfolio,” I wrote to Greg, and now to you. “Neither your image of Mesa Arch nor your Yosemite Valley image alone would be damning, but paired together, they give the opposite impression from what readers get who dig just a little and see more of your photographs.”

You might say, “Who in the world is this David Leland Hyde guy to give advice?” You may have grounds for wondering. However, in making selections of my father’s photographs I have been talking to many of the top landscape photographers alive today, as well as some of the best photography galleries and museum curators too. I have learned that for the most part the selection of Dad’s work that will be accepted today is very different than it was 30-40 years ago. Some of his most known icons just don’t appeal today because too many other photographers have copied them since their creation.

I could fight this with a big protest such as the obvious fact that Dad made his images first, that his work is timeless and any number of other arguments, but most of it has to do with Galen Rowell’s concept of image maturity. Certain photographs are no longer as new and compelling as they might have been even 10 years ago. I feel we have done a great job with the Philip Hyde site, though there are a number of images on it now that I look at from time to time and realize that they too will have to be replaced by something more uniquely Philip Hyde. It is a difficult task, even a contradiction of sorts, to take a body of work that helped start it all 50-60 years ago, and only be able to use the images that everybody else did not emulate. Once in a while, sparingly, we will use some of Dad’s signature photographs that people are more likely to remember came first.

If you, as a landscape photographer, completely ignore what I have said here, I understand. You are the artist. Even if you agree with it, I wouldn’t necessarily change everything right away. Mull it over. Let it rumble around for a while. I hope it is helpful to you at some point. The rewards of finding your own great locations, of making your own tripod tracks, are far greater than the few dollars in monetary gain from photographs like many others.

I was relieved and happy that Greg responded with gratitude and appreciation, not because he accepted what I said, but because he took it the way it was intended, as honest feedback from a friend who wanted to help him improve the look and presentation of his blog to be more in line with who he is as a person and photographer.

My father said that finding one’s voice is the most important endeavor of all. He was able to make a full-time living as a landscape photographer, which itself was particularly rare then and perhaps will be again the way the industry is going. Most landscape photographers don’t get rich, though some do through extreme commercialization and the production of cliché. Dad would advise other photographers not to be tempted or to waver from seeking quality and the development of their own vision that comes from who they are and what they feel is important to convey about nature.

Mesas and Boulders on the San Rafael Swell, by David Leland Hyde

Mesas, Boulders, San Rafael Swell Utah, 2009, © David Leland Hyde (Used with permission)

In Colorado and many other states, people have little inherent fine art taste and have been marketed into thinking that mediocre over-promoted pretty pictures are the best photography. A certain top Colorado photographer has very little respect outside Colorado because his work consists of primarily post-card type images. He has a 5,000 square foot showroom in Denver, part of which is devoted to another big name from the Southwest. My father called this other photographer’s work “roadside landmark photography.” Many photographers today look up to this photographer as a role model. This shows how fine art standards have dropped. We need to take back photography from the hucksters. While certain photographer’s work sells like hotcakes in Denver, the nearby Camera Obscura Gallery devoted to the classic photography masters recently went out of business. Unimaginative work sells due to the public’s lack of art education. You can choose to either prey upon this ignorance or do your part to introduce quality. Every cliché photograph adds to the problem, and every image you or anyone else puts out that shows something unique and of artistic merit, helps to raise artistic awareness.

In my blog post on Galen Rowell and developing personal style, there is a bit of discussion on these issues in the comments where I mention the work of one wealthy photographer from Australia. If you look at his website, you will see that his images resemble the typical recognizable photograph from each top location, except that the saturation has been amped up and the drama has been increased. Contrast this work with say that of Eliot Porter, Philip Hyde, Michael Kenna, Brett Weston or Carr Clifton. The problem is that many times fine art prints are an impulse purchase rather than an educated purchase.

Any photographer whose website begins to look like they just went around to the “checklist” and checked off various locations will be passed over and dismissed by the best photo editors, serious collectors and the art museums. If your photograph of Mesa Arch is your bestseller, I would ask to whom is it selling? What is the buyer’s knowledge level about art and photography? This is actually a good gauge of your work: what kind of buyer are you attracting? Is your work representing who you are as a photographer, or is it merely what you think people want to buy? Asking these questions and considering your answers carefully can and will completely transform your portfolio and your work. Try it.

 

Mood and creativity in image processing

Written by Alpenglow Images on December 12th, 2011

In February, I featured this image as my photo of the month; I took it in Buckskin Gulch, Utah on a cold, icy day.

Ice and sandstone in Buckskin Gulch, Utah

Original Ice Underneath, January 2011

The original scene stopped me because I liked the chilly feeling in the ice, and the way the light was reflecting off the walls of the canyon; the tafoni created an interesting pattern in the flowing rock wall.  In addition, I liked the sensuous line at the rock-ice interface.  However, mostly I liked the contrast between warm and cold tones.

While I was happy with the original edit of the image, I have recently revisited it in an effort to accentuate the feeling the original scene gave me.  With the current state of digital image processing, there are multiple ways to achieve my desired effect.  Guy Tal recently published a great article on understanding white balance; understanding that there can be more than one appropriate white balance within a scene has been immensely valuable to me as my own processing skills have developed.   Ultimately, I chose to use Nik’s Silver Efex Pro to give a slightly cooler color cast to the ice, thus conveying the contrast between warm and cool tones I originally envisioned when I was in the canyon on that cold January day.

Ice and sandstone tafoni in buckskin gulch, utah

Ice Underneath, rework, October 2011

While today’s cameras do an excellent job of capturing the “information” in a scene, there is still work to be done in bringing out the full potential in a scene during post-processing.  What are some of your favorite techniques in doing this?

Incidentally, my friend Guy Tal does have an excellent and in-depth e-book devoted to this subject; you can read more about it at this link.  Note that I’m not a member of his affiliate program, so I get nothing more than good karma if you purchase the e-book.

 

Intimate Zion

Written by Alpenglow Images on November 30th, 2011

I remember my first visit to Zion National Park as a teenager, on spring break, with my parents.  It was one of the only trips we took as a family that was a vacation for vacation’s sake.  All other car trips to that point had been to visit family in Wyoming or Nebraska.  I have to admit it felt odd to be on a vacation with my parents!  But, the massive sandstone cliffs and buttresses left me nothing less than floored, making me quickly forget about the awkwardness of “being seen” with my parents.

Since then, I’ve returned to Zion several times; I’ve hiked the entire length of the Narrows, the classic Virgin River hike, and I’ve been through many of the technical slot canyons in the park.  I feel privileged to have seen parts of the park that <1% of its visitors get to experience.  Most recently, I’ve returned to Zion with my own family, sharing its serenity and sanctuary with them.

Like all heavily photographed areas, Zion has its own repertoire of icons: the Towers of the Virgin, the Narrows, Court of the Patriarchs, the Subway.  Moving past these locations, though, I have consistently found it very difficult to make a compelling image in the midst of the breathtaking beauty.  I should qualify that statement: I find it difficult to make an image that makes me stop and say, “Wow, that’s awesome!”

On our most recent trip to the park, I focused on the intimate details.  Autumn is in its final throes in Zion Canyon right now, with most of the cottonwoods and maples half-naked, ready for their hibernation.  Three weeks ago, this place was crawling with photographers, I’m sure, now these trees have been all but forgotten about.  Still, I find a certain beauty in these vestiges of fall.

Fremont cottonwoods in autumn foliage, Zion National Park, Utah

Autumn's final vestiges, November 2011

Big leaf maple, Zion National Park, Utah

Hanging on, November 2011

Early morning is my favorite time to be in Zion Canyon; deer are peacefully grazing, turkey are out, and the chill is still in the air because the sun hasn’t penetrated the depths of the canyon yet.  There’s often a breeze blowing, almost as if the canyon is starting fresh every day.  As the cliffs begin to greet the sun, the light reflects on to the river, giving it a wonderful tonality.

Virgin River cascade

Cascade, November 2011

I welcomed Zion into my heart and mind years ago.  The fight I have with the place is that I haven’t–until recently–let it drive my creativity.  I’ve been trying to force the park to reveal itself to me in ways it isn’t ready to do.  Letting go of the notions I held on to let me see in a different way, making images I never expected to make, but am happy with.   I will continue making my yearly pilgrimages to the park; I look forward to seeing how the canyon reveals itself to me next time…and I’m grateful my son is years away from that stage of not wanting to be seen with me.  🙂