The Adventure Life with Steve CasimiroAdventure Photography: Stop and Shoot the Roses

Text and photograph by West Coast Editor Steve Casimiro

Over the years, I have received countless tips and bits of advice on photography. Only two resonated and stayed with me. Yes, just two. But these two are so powerful, they run through my brain every time I shoot. Together, they’ve made improvements in my photography so big I can only begin to measure them.

I’m going to give you one today. Hey, when you only have two, you need to ration them.

We were shooting National Geographic ADVENTURE’s 2007 fall apparel and travel guide in Torres del Paine in Chilean Patagonia, five of us squeezed into a tiny white pickup we dubbed El Canejo (“the rabbit,” Spanish misspelling intended, though I can’t remember why), when we came around a corner and—blammo, there it was, one of the most beautiful scenes in one of the most beautiful places I’ve been. The water was dead still, the lake a flawless mirror. Given that Patagonia is one of the windiest places on Earth, this alone seemed like a minor miracle.

I slammed on the brakes, grabbed my camera, and started banging off shots—vertical, horizontal, different exposures. I scrambled to get the models in place, clambered on the roof of El Canejo, and shot more. Within four minutes, a slight breeze came up, ruffling the water. (Four minutes, 45 seconds, actually—I looked at the shooting times buried in the images' metadata.) Though barely perceptible, it was enough to blur the mirror. By 18 minutes, there were ripples on the water and the magic was gone. When we came back later that afternoon, the wind was howling and there were whitecaps on the lake. The next day, ground fog covered the entire park and wouldn’t dissipate until after we left.

So, here’s the advice: If you’re thinking about taking a shot, take it. If you’re thinking about shooting something, shoot it.

I know what’s going through your head. “I read all the way down to here and that’s it? Just ‘shoot it’?”

Yes, just shoot it. If you’re driving down the road and something catches your eye, shoot it. If your kids are doing something charming and you wish your camera weren’t upstairs, go get it and shoot it. If you hike through the trees and see an insanely beautiful vista, make the time to dig the camera out of your pack—and shoot it. Do not procrastinate. Don’t “catch it on the way back.” Shoot it and shoot it now, because the scene will never look the same again. The light will change, clouds will roll in, the wind come up, your progeny will spit up on itself. Serendipity is fleeting.

If you shoot every time something sparks your creativity, you will find that those images are often your best, most insightful, and most memorable. It sounds ridiculously simple, and it is.

Photography isn’t about what camera you use, whether you shoot film or digital, or even whether you’re shooting for yourself or for your job. It’s about vision and communication and creating. If you don’t push the button, you aren’t creating. Remember, we are visual creatures—long before we had words, we relied on what we saw to stay alive. If something triggers you visually, even if you can’t articulate why, there’s a reason. Capture it and find out.

Time and time again, an image will pop into my head—lots of times when I’m behind the wheel—and I’ll groan because it means busting out the gear, taking the time, getting home later, etc. etc., waah waah waah. Most excuses for not shooting boil down to laziness and inertia. I guarantee you will regret your sloth. Some of those moments will disappear from your memory and ignorance will be bliss, but some will lodge in your head, never to leave, and you will continue to kick yourself years later.

And yes, sometimes what seems fantastic in your head looks goofy in a picture. Your kid doesn’t seem as cute, the lighting not quite so spectral. I’ve put many a model through silly contortions only to end up with photos that look lame. So what? You can throw them out or delete them. And no matter how bad they are, I can promise that the “worst” photos will be the ones you simply don’t take.

Comments

[Daniel W]

haha, Good thing I'm not alone. I think I'm going to start asking more photographers this.

"It's a lot like silence in conversation--you shouldn't rush to fill it."

That part is really interesting since I was the kind of student who always had to answer with something, just to end the silence.

Thanks.

[Steve Casimiro]

Insecure? OMG, yes. You've just traveled 8,000 miles with 10 giant bags of clothes, the models (who you barely know) are ready, you've found a location, the photo editor is standing there, passersby are passing by, and everyone is watching and waiting for you to tell them what to do. Hello anxiety, my old friend. But you do it and you gain confidence with practice and the next time is easier and the next time easier still. And now I can't wait to get models on location.

Three years ago, I read a quote from a renowned portrait photographer how he learned to use the "force of his personality" to direct his subjects. Although that struck me as less than humble, I realized he was right: Everyone is looking to you, at you, to take their cues. After that, I started acting with confidence (even though I didn't feel it), I used my spirit to create fun and energy, and surprise surprise it put everyone at ease, including me.

I've also learned to be patient, to feel comfortable with everyone waiting for me. Sometimes the photo doesn't jump out immediately--you know it's there, but it has to come to you. I ask everyone to chill until I get it. It's a lot like silence in conversation--you shouldn't rush to fill it.

But that's one kind of shooting--directing models. Travel photography is a different creature. When we were in Morocco last December, I spent four days shooting alone, before the crew got there and after the shoot wrapped. With no Arabic, French, or Berber, and lots of aggressive locals, I was more intimidated than I can remember. Meek describes it best. And while it's important to be respectful and sensitive and open to people you'd like to shoot, feeling afraid can really hold you back. I think it's important, though, to recognize that fear or insecurity is completely natural. I came back from Morocco frustrated that I got nothing but junk. It wasn't true, though, and I realized I was reacting more to how wimpy I felt over there. And then I talked to other photographers who'd had much the same experience there and realized, well, yeah, that's a typical reaction, go easy on yourself.

The last thing I will say is that it's very much like learning a foreign language. Throw yourself into it with the understanding that you'll feel silly and uncomfortable at first, but the more you give yourself to it, the faster you come to feel at home.

--Steve

[Daniel W]

It's nice to read this post. I've been working on my timidness lately. For some odd reason, I am especially insecure when I shoot in my hometown (where I'm living right now) since I travel so much. So I learned just to shoot. I've talked myself out of quite a few shots. Sounds silly but it's a real thing. I'm still working on it. :D

Do you ever get insecure about shooting for any reason?