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Vision

Article and Images
by Helen Longest–Saccone and Marty Saccone

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Vision and creativity are personal feelings and emotions. How can you learn these esthetic aspects of photography? Unlike mastering your technical skills which comes with classes, workshops, reading and practice—vision and creativity happen within your soul. They are the essence of you.

Wild blueberries, Blue Hill, Canton, Massachusetts, by Marty Saccone/Helen Longest–Saccone. Nikon F3HP, Nikkor 105mm macro lens with a Nikon 3T close-up lens, f/4, shutter speed unrecorded, Fujichrome Velvia, Husky IV tripod.

Vision of a white pine in our wild backyard, Quincy, Massachusetts, by Helen Longest–Saccone/Marty Saccone. Nikon F3HP, Nikkor 85mm F1.8 lens with Nikon PN11 Extension Tube, f/1.8 at 1/60 sec., Fujichrome Velvia, Gitzo tripod with Studioball head.

It is the making of images rather than the taking of photos that we find to be among the most challenging aspects of photography. Often, the use of depth of field—shallow as well as deep—best enables us to translate our vision to film. We work to let the inner creative child paint our interpretation of the moment on film rather than letting imperfect situations defeat our photographic psyche.

For us, wilderness is always an ideal place to increase our creativity and to fine tune our vision. Being away from phones, crowds of people and distractions enables the artist within us to easily emerge.

However, other wonderful places to practice newly visualized techniques are in our backyard and in nearby city wilderness locations. We are fortunate, there are numerous wild areas nestled in the cities on the South Shore of Boston. Even though we live in the city, we live on a generous lot with a lush backyard we have let go somewhat wild so city wildlife has a small corner in which to live. In this tiny oasis in the midst of Quincy, a busy city just outside Boston, we have a place to escape daily pressures to work on fine–tuning our seeing and to practice techniques for newly pre–visualized images.

Pine skeleton, Down East Maine wilderness in Washington County, by Marty Saccone/ Helen Longest–Saccone. Nikon F3HP, Nikkor 180mm lens, f/32 at 1/2 second, Fujichrome Velvia, Husky IV tripod. Overcast day.

You may be asking, “What if I live in a city high rise and there are few wild areas nearby and the only backyard I have is the concrete in front of my apartment building, how can this article apply to me?”

We thought about this, so, since we are in the city, we too have a sidewalk in front of our home. In addition to sharing images from the lush areas we photograph, we decided to also put the concrete and asphalt in front of our home to the test.

Four of the five images on this page and the facing page were made in the midst of the city—the sun–dew and blueberry images were made in a city wilderness while the halo illusion of a droplet was an image that was created in a tiny part of the wild that exists between the cracks in the sidewalk in front of our home—the weeds that are normally clipped and dug out of sidewalk cracks. The vision of a white pine was created in our backyard.

When making these images it was important to us to concentrate on the creative process rather than being distracted by the surrounding city sounds.

Halo illusion of a droplet on a blade of grass between the cracks of the sidewalk in front of our home in Quincy, Massachusetts, by Helen Longest–Saccone/Marty Saccone. Nikon F3HP, Nikkor 85mm F1.8 lens with PN11 Extension Tube, f/1.8 at 1/60 sec., Fujichrome Velvia, handheld while lying on sidewalk.

The image of the blade of grass was made lying on the sidewalk in front of our home. It became abundantly clear that once involved in the creative process you can be as isolated from the world in the city as in the wilderness. During the forty–five or so minutes it took to create this image, the involvement in the creative process was totally consuming.

The backdrop for the grass and droplet haloed by another droplet was a combination of the asphalt and other grasses growing in the sidewalk cracks. The shadowed light caused the soft focused asphalt to turn a purplish blue rather than staying gray black. In–camera center–weighted metering was used and it was photographed at the meter reading since the grasses were average tone.

Sundew at Blue Hills in Canton, Massachusetts, by Helen Longest–Saccone/Marty Saccone. Nikon F3HP, Nikkor 85mm F1.8 lens with PN11 Extension Tube, f/1.8 at 1/60 sec., Fujichrome Velvia, handheld while lying on boardwalk.

Nestled in the midst of a nearby city, just a short distance from our home, is a wonderful bog. Early one morning, sun–dews along a boardwalk at this location seemed to speak, asking to be photographed. When viewed through close–up equipment the sun–dews covered with droplets transformed into a magical fairyland of bubbles and light rather than a textbook documentary image. A wide–open F–stop allowed this vision to be translated to film. Round droplets resulted from this wide–open aperture. The camera meter reading was taken and just a slight amount of light was added to keep the bubbles white and the image ethereal.

On the same morning, droplets of morning dew were condensing on wild blueberries all around us. Early morning sidelight accentuated the shapes of each berry, making them an excellent subject for a creative image. Choosing a wide–open F–stop for shallow depth of field enables the viewer’s eye to be drawn to the nearest berry, emphasizing the moist lushness and suppleness of the tender young fruit. The repetition of the berry’s shape in the background created an artistic pattern, giving this environmental composition depth. Metering was in–camera center–weighted, stopping down just a little to maintain the various hue of colors present in this side lighted picture.

The soft vision of a white pine is an image that was previsualized long before its creation. This is an example of where prior failures finally paid off. When creating art on film, often first attempts are simply additions to the round receptacle in our office—the trash can. However, each time a slide contributes to the landfill, a lesson is learned and those particular mistakes and misjudgments are not repeated. When walking around our backyard, camera in hand and tripod over the shoulder, the tips of the pine needles drew our attention. It was time to set up the tripod, set the lens at f/1.8 and compose. The result was what we wanted, a soft vision of pine needles rather than a tack sharp documentary photograph. Metering for this image was through the lens with a slight amount of light being added to create a lighter, more airy image.

In the wilderness of Maine, the fallen and weathered pine tree skeleton made for a dramatic diagonal composition. To deliver the greatest impact this image required an increased depth of field (a small aperture) to emphasize maximum sharpness front to rear. The creative execution of this image required the opposite use of depth of field than the other images in this article. To obtain the previsualized image an 180mm medium telephoto lens was used at its f/32 aperture setting. The light was overcast and somewhat flat, which in this situation gave good wrap–around fill with no contrasty shadows. Of course, several varied compositions with different lenses were made, but this one was the most creative of the series of images. Metering was in–camera center–weighted metering for the average tone subject and the camera was set at the suggested meter reading.

Creating on film rather than recording documentary pictures is just a matter of a mindset. Slowing down to absorb the place allows you to stop and see, really see, instead of just looking. This is the best of vision—really looking around and observing all there is to photograph. Once you see all that is around you, you can further enhance your creative process by being willing to break the rules. After all, rules are really only guidelines and each image is your own personal creation.

The process of making images is wonderful because it requires concentration which puts distance between you and the pressures of life, enabling you to concentrate on the art of photography. Being creative is good for the soul, plus, it’s a lot of fun!

For additional articles that will help your photographic growth, why not go directly to our subscriptions page?

Check these links for other ways to improve your photo skills.

Gerlach Nature Photography
Photo Workshops & Tours (906)439-5991

with Lonnie Brock
and Roger Devore

Helen Longest–Saccone Workshops/Tours/Seminars helen_marty@yahoo.com

Studioball Pro Ball Heads www.StudioBall.com

Cullman Magic Tripods from RTS www.RTSphoto.com

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