A recent discussion on Stills got me thinking about the importance of waiting for the right - decisive - moment. I think many of us often assume that some of greats of photography worked in a very intuitive sort of way, to the extent that there was very little delay between the conception of photo and it’s execution. There it is! Snap! While I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that some part of their work happened this way - particularly in the case of Winogrand - I think it’s also fairly likely that many of the most striking photographs were the prodcut of seeing raw potential that could only be fully realized at the right moment.

Lets take the case of the following image by Cartier-Bresson:



To quote one of John Ellis’ comments from the aforementioned discussion, “there is no way he got that except by saying to himself, I like the view from here and now I need a cyclist.” If you look at the way the angle of view is restricted by the buildings on either side of the frame, I think it’s clear that something like that must have gone on. It doesn’t seem possible that he could have seen the view and the cyclist together, and in the same moment brought the camera up to take the picture. It would have all happened too quick. He must have seen the view and waited for cyclist to fill that just right spot in the frame.

Waiting for just that right moment can be one of the most exhilirating aspects of photography. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not a great street photographer of the reactive type. I’m too timid, and my reaction time is far too slow. I am, however, great at waiting, a skill perhaps developed during my early and abortive landscape phase. Contrary to popular opinion many of the ‘unique’ moments of the street are actually quite repetive and cyclical; if it happens once, it will probably happen again if for no other reason because people are creatures of such powerful habit. Take the following shot - this time my own -as an example of this principle:



I first noticed the young man on the right as he was making googly eyes at the little girl. My camera was in my lap, but I could never have caught the fleeting expression in time. Instead, I preset my focus, double checked my exposure and waited for it to happen again. I had to waite 10-15 minutes for the episode to repeat, but eventually the two interacted again. This time, ready for it, I brought my camera up and snapped a few frames. Luckily they had locked eyes the second time just as the train had pulled into to the sation, making the chances of a shot not ruined by the low shutter speed much more likely.

For me this kind of situation is one of the most rewarding in photography. Seeing the raw potential for a great shot, knowing enough about the dynamic of the situation to know when and if it will happen again, and eventually finding just that right moment to make something out of that potential strikes me as far more intresting than reacting instantly to what’s happening around me. Perhaps this is why I prefer HCB to Winogrand, and it probably explains why I don’t share Colin’s or John’s view that the above HCB photo is too contrived or forced. I like it so much because it is contrived in the original and non-perjorative sense of that word; it’s planned with clever intent to create something that wasn’t there before he waited for that cyclist to ride into frame.

I’ve been doing some research in anticipation of writing a review of the ZM Biogon 35. Lens reviews often use a kind of language that bears a striking resemblance to the language used in wine or cigar reviews; it’s evocative, but not necesarrily descriptive. It occured to me that a glossary of terms might advance the cause of science or least provide some common ground.

Bokeh:

Bokeh just describes the way things outside the plane of focus are rendered. Really, it’s that simple.

Clinical:

You will see every pore, line, and blemish on your subject’s face. Often said of a lens that you can’t afford as in, “I keep using the Ver. 2 Summicrud because the Ver. 4 is too clinical.”

Flare Prone:

Don’t even bother with the hood, it’s just going to flare no matter what.

Flare Resistant:

Keep the hood on.

Glow:

Often confused with bokeh, three dimensionality and pop, - for the root of the confusion see this otherwise excellent article by Mike Johnston - glow more accurately describes a high degree of pictorialiness as if every day was foggy. Think halos around everything. Not always a bad thing.

Pictorial:

Not clinical, a good thing in portrait lens and a nice way to say an older lens is not particularly sharp.

Plasticity:

I’m not sure what this one means. When I hear the word plastic I think of The Graduate and Tennessee Williams’ theory of Plastic Theatre. How that translates into optics, I don’t know.

Pop:

See three dimensional.

Three Dimensional:

Sometimes also referred to as pop or innacurately glow, three-dimensional describes the way certain lenses can make a subject seem to float or pop off the print or screen. Contrary to popular opinion the Cosina lenses are for the most part actually more three dimensional than their Leica counterparts.

For those interested in real definitions of some actual optical terms, Paul van Walree’s site, http://www.pinnipedia.org/, is a great place to start. Be sure to check out the photos section as well.