Composition: Brake Wheel

Consider this nice brake wheel image (captioned version here). It has some appealing character- istics. A nice contrast between the round brakewheel, with the rounded shapes inside the rim and the angular running board with its shadow in repeating diagonals, and underlying that the horizontals of the ribbing on the boxcar. Interesting textures, including both the wheel and the wall of the car. A very nice shot (by Bill Grenchik.

By contrast, the next image (captioned version here) has, in my view, a stronger composition, more interesting and more dynamic. Why do I like Nick DAmato's shot more?

First, Bill's shot is taken from a face-on angle, which I find inherently less interesting than an off-center angle. An off-center angle introduces depth and diagonals, which often add life to an image. Having a third dimension is important in bringing life to what is, after all, a two dimensional image. Depth is important.

Here, the depth comes from two sources. Obviously, the angular view puts the far side of the car end further away from the viewer. More subtly, the brake wheel casts a shadow which necessarily falls behind the wheel and thus generates a perception of depth, creating an implicit sense of in front/behind, although in actuality the shadow may be no further away from the viewer.

Second, Nick's shot has lots of diagonals, the obvious one being the top of the hopper running from upper right to middle left. But the brake wheel and its shadow form a second, implied diagonal from upper left to lower right. The diagonals form an X which, along with the depth, add to the dynamism, which the horizontal composition of Bill's, with the wheel on the left and the running board and shadow on the right, lacks.

Also, I'm not personally a fan of the somewhat 'up' angle in Bill's shot. I find it off-putting - insufficient to create a strong dynamic, yet not quite right as a flatter scene. All in or all out for me, I guess.

Of course, there are lots of things to like in Bill's shot and there are a number of things I prefer, starting with the textures. Also, the sky separates better from the car because the car is dark, and I'm not a fan of how the wheel shadow is cut off in Nick's shot. Both have something to offer, and for that matter opinions will vary and some will like the first one more.

Shaughnessy: Another Review

A month ago I posted a link to a review of the upcoming Jim Shaughnessy book by Alex Craghead. I have since come across another review of the book, by Otto Vondrak. His review is also lengthy, shows several images from the book, and even makes reference to rock and roll. Read up!

Troy Paiva: Color

One of my goals for this blog has been to find and present interesting rail photography that pushes the limits of the genre, in particular in the more-artistic, less-representational direction. One interesting example is this set of shots by Troy Paiva. These shots are all taken at night using gelled strobes and flashlights to create the coloring; details of the technique are here. (Thanks, Troy, for the correction.)

The first shot, above (original here), uses a strong red color to bring the inside of the switcher cab alive in a way that capturing standard interior light simply can not. The contrast of variants on the primary blue and red colors along with the rather bright levels of light on both inside and outside surfaces make this shot almost playful; a simple geometric study, happy.

The second shot, at right (original here), uses color differently, the green and blue being more complementary in tone, in a way, and the scene peaceful. And yet the colors take a rather drab peace of equipment, a rustic relic, and give it some life. The composition is enlivened by a wide white stripe that intersects with the lines in the car, and a well-placed puddle of water.

The third shot (original here) is a bit of a muddle, yet I find it interesting. While the right side is bold and clean, colorized cab, number, and (air?) tank, the left side has a jumble of hardware without strong definition. Note the light touch of added color on the domes at the top. I find the shot a bit out of balance, but the applications of color have a certain presence. Not a favorite, but interesting to look at.

I find the last shot (original here) fascinating! It appears to be a pile of taken-down signals, both crossing and line. The foreground has an upside down "STOP ON RED SIGNAL" sign (overturned sign, overturned equipment, overturned world) with red highlights, echoed in subtler red applied to a line pole in the background. The signals themselves either glow from moonlight or are lit/processed artificially and have a touch of blue tint. Their horizontal lines oppose the vertical of the pole and the square of the sign. The pole stands out against a plain background while the sign gives definition to the muddle of pieces below. It's a beautiful rendition of discarded material!

A bonus: Troy has some excellent shots from his night visit to the S.S. Independence, a decommissioned "ghost ship." While many of these shots (also found here) make use of the coloring approach seen in the shots here, a number of excellent ones do not. A stunning set of shots! I must say, more interesting than the train images. Other shots are here and here . I have yet to go through his entire website but I bet there is much more to savor.

Lew Ableidinger and the Open Spaces

Lew Ableidinger works primarily in black and white. In going through his images, I immediately took an interest in several shots from the Woodworth, ND area. I love the ways these shots convey open spaces through composition and texture.

In the first shot, "Road to Nowhere," note the unusual angle of the train. It's barely in the frame and it is already up and out of here, heading over the small hill (an effect enhanced by the road which is also going up and out). This shot does not have en expanse retreating into the distance, and for that matter the train doesn't appear small relative to its surroundings. And yet, the unusual angle, the train sitting on some sort of a ridge, the balance with the road and the tree give this somewhat odd view great appeal. It perhaps does not fit with the rest of the shots here as the "open spaces" feel is weaker and there are more elements in the frame (including the grassy textures). But I enjoy the way the subject is the road, enhanced by the tree/bush and the fencing, and one is in effect driving up to meet the train and both will subsequently make their own explorations on the other side of the ridge.

I will treat the next two shots, "The Open Country" and "Life in the Vast Lane," involving the same crossing and tree, as a pair. They are simple compositions, a train, a road, a tree (or two), and the endless plains.

The first shot of the pair is a classic scene, a road leading up to a short train. The foreground tree provides depth in front of the train and the receding plains behind, and stands on the left, balancing the light source at the right background. The plains have just enough roll to them to provide a stronger sense of distance. The combination of snow and backlight make for excellent contrasts, both at the "macro" level in terms of the tree and train and at the "micro" level in terms of the grasses in the snow. It's a peaceful, interesting scene.

Sometimes a road takes the eye in a direction, but sometimes it frames. In the second shot of the pair, it forms a diagonal that "supports" the trees and train. The two trees create an internal framing for the train, helping to keep the eye from following the road to the right. In doing so, however, the road is left as a strong triangular element; too strong for me. To me it is a large dark object, dominating the smaller tree, the train, and what is visible of the open spaces. It detracts, without itself bringing sufficient interest in terms of its texture or otherwise (unlike the road in the opening shot of this post).

The final shot, "Trains and Plains," turns out to my eye, surprisingly, to be an abstract. Compositionally, it has three elements, two of which are the lines of the train and horizon and the block of the backlit engines. The third, subtle but to me rather striking, is a curve in the sky, a bowl shape formed by variations in the light and clouds.

Complementing these simple elements are restrained variations in light and texture. The fine granularity of the grasses poking through the snow fades into a formless sky with diffuse changes in light across the frame. The land has just enough roll to the land to convey a greater sense of depth. The light does not radiate but rather glows in an odd, foggy/hazy manner, with only a partial sense of the direction of light. The black, backlit power enters the frame from the left (presumably), proving a dominant element, but to me, participating in the scene as an equal party rather than being the focus of it.

I think of this shot as being conceptually equivalent to a pastel picture; just as pastels tend to have subdued colors, this image has subdued compositional elements and light, but the overall effect conveys an interesting glow and a strong, uplifting, almost spiritual sense or presence.

Recently I've been absorbing David Plowden's recent tome, which has a number of non-RR shots of this type. The present of a train makes Lew's shots more accessible to me, because they draw a contrast between the small train and the large space, a contrast enhanced by my knowledge that the train is actually large. And yet, the trains don't necessarily appear small in these pictures; it is not that the trains become smaller when faces with these expanses, but that the expanses appear timeless, permanent, as the train temporarily occupies part of the space.

Alex Craghead: Book Reviews

Alexander Craghead is a self-described writer and photographer (whom I don't know). He has just written a detailed review of the upcoming book "The Call of Trains: Railroad Photographs by Jim Shaughnessy," due out in November but for which he received an advance review copy. I ran across his review in the Yahoo ObsCar group and found it fascinating, and his blog even more so, because he has also reviewed the David Plowden book "Vanishing Point: Fifty Years of Photography." (Several years ago he also reviewed "A Passion for Trains" by Richard Steinheimer; alas, only in a cursory manner.) He has also reviewed a number of other books on railroad subjects; here is his book review section and here is his personal web page (with a very interesting organization, analogous to sections and chapters of a book).

Shaughnessy is of course an important figure in railroad photography and I look forward to the book. But the review is worth examining in its own right, of course especially if one is considering buying the book (or putting it on one's holiday wish list, which I definitely am). He not only discusses some of the images in the book but also comments on the accompanying essay by Jeff Brouws and expands on that to discussing his own views of the (implicit) comparison to Steinheimer created by the mere existence of the book, in similar form and by the same editor/author as the Steinheimer volume. The review is detailed and rich.

His review of the Plowden book is equally valuable. He also gives significant attention to the included essay (by Steve Edwards) and also goes through the images, in even greater detail than in the Shaughnessy review. Having re-read the review with my copy of Plowden at hand, I can attest to the quality of the insights made. In turn, that makes me look forward even more to the Shaughnessy book.

One might quibble with some of Craghead's points. For example, in discussing Plowden he notes "the clinical inhumanity of a nuclear power plant" but later he says "We walk freely amongst barns and inside of feed mills. It seems that dust still hangs in the air, as if someone was just here, just working, but where have they gone? There is a profound solemnity, as if in church, and each successive image shows us less and tells us more." One wonders the extent the observation is driven by the actual differences between the images versus the personal perceptions of the nuclear power and agricultural industries. Having less of a romantic view of farming, I am less taken by the barn images, devoid of surrounding tools, animals, even footprints in the mud and thus quite dry (plates 213, 217, and 220 leave me unmoved) and categorize them more closely to a number of the images of industrial structures with a similar flavor.

Nonetheless I have learned much by reading Craghead's reviews. His mind operates differently than mine; I do not write phrases like "mixing a lyric style of photography with a documentary sensibility" or think thoughts like "beyond, there is no world, no ocean, no hills." By nature I don't read stories into pictures, or at least I leave them in my unconscious. By reading material like this, I can try.

In writing about the reviews and the reviewer, however, I should not overlook the reviewed! I have the Plowden and Steinheimer books and will purchase the Shaughnessy when it comes out. The first two are lengthy and beautifully printed compendiums, retrospectives of their work, and the Shaughnessy should be of the same editorial and production quality as the Steinheimer. I have contemplated blogging on some of the individual Steinheimer images and intend to inquire about the use of smaller versions of the images here; otherwise I might yet do it anyway without images, simply referring to the plate numbers.

Only a small portion of the Plowden book features RR images, however, 28 in the opening chapter plus a handful at the end; a few images elsewhere in the book have some RR content. I find them of less interest than those by Steinheimer, with the possible exception of plate 14 and 20 and perhaps 7 and 230. As a whole I find the images in the book more difficult to appreciate but am finding that the effort bears some fruit. Nonetheless, I don't favor Plowden's style overall, although a number of the images do move me or capture my attention.

[NOTE: I have not asked for permission to use the images from the dust jackets of the books. As those images are being used to sell those books, I presume there is no problem with my use of them here.]

Steve Crise: Shallow Depth of Field

Steve Crise (website here; look not only in "railroads" but also in "Project 3751" and in "Urban Environments") has done some excellent work with extremely shallow depth of field. Here are some similar compositions, verticals with track as the foreground/in-focus element. In these shots the zone of focus is particularly narrow, encompassing only a few ties in shots with much more depth.

Let's start off with this frog shot, with intermodal cars in the background. Interesting shot, lots of details, muted yet colorful with browns and some reds and blues (compared to most people, I am more of a fan of rich browns). But I find the shot busy, cluttered; where is my eye supposed to go? The focal point is weak, due in large part to the frog being simply longer than the range in focus. Also, the background is rather busy and in some sense visually close to the frog, resulting in a lack of separation. Nice, but lets turn to shots that are really nice!

Really nice would be this track and signal shot. So much to see, two different signals, two different signal colors, pinkish hue in the sky which is picked up in the rails. I am a fan of what I think of as a triangle compo- sition, here formed by the two signals and the zone of the track in focus.

What I find interesting here is the choice to limit the focus to an arbitrary, nondescript section of track - no switchpoint, switchstand, spike, anything. I like the effect, I think because it equalizes the three points. The foreground, which could be a stronger element if more distinct, becomes equal in presence; the left signal is a strong element here. Overall, I love the peaceful flavor here, interrupted only by the knowledge that green over red means a train is coming. The shallow depth of field eliminates all minor elements that one might find in a scene, junk and weeds in the foreground, the signal boxes, details of the mountains, leaving a beautiful semi-abstraction.

The third image is powerful. The foreground is distinct, the spike, the complementary nearby fasteners. Balanced against this element is the train, strong and powerful yet not over- whelming, colorful (nice contrast against the overall coldness), with distinct form. The absence of focus reduces the nose to basic elements, three circles on a field of red (itself shrouded by clouds, with blue only above - cool!).

More than that, the shallow depth of field reduces the entire scene to basic elements, and the key here is that Steve has chosen the elements well, track and the train that runs on it. The blur gives added emphasis to the track, which to my eye results in excellent balance, just the right emphasis on the track, eliminating the natural instinct of any railfan to focus on the engine.

When I began to ponder this post, I was of the opinion that this engine/spike shot was by far my favorite. In pondering them more, I now realize that the signals shot is its equal if not more favored. The pastels are so nice, the lines (rail parallel to signal post) so strong, the essence of the scene so well conveyed. Sweet!

Steve, hope you don't mind, but I am going to copy this type of composition, if not the exact forms here, at the next opportunity! :)

Mechanics versus Artistry

It has been noted that I take a somewhat mechanistic approach to an activity that is inherently spontaneous or inspired. Certainly true! I have a good bit of an engineer's mentality.

A correspondent recently wrote of my blog that "perhaps the process is one of trying to put into objective terms what was originally done very subjectively by the author." By this he meant that no photographer thinks in the terms I use in my commentary. (See also the comments made on my Subtle Color post.) This is undoubtedly mostly true, although I suspect some photographers to think about dimensions of composition in conscious or semi-conscious ways.

But what happens to spontaneity? One could argue, for example, that a rules-based (rule of thirds!) approach necessarily hinders one from achieving higher artistic qualities in one's work. Following rules stifles creativity, one might say. I suspect that, instead, the effect is in the other direction. Certainly the better we become at the technical aspects of photography, exposure and such, the better our images become and the more likely we are to achieve something beyond the mundane.

Surely this goes beyond the technical aspects to the creative ones, however! The more we know about, and internalize, aspects of composition like form, line, texture, etc., and the more we learn to see the aspects of light in a scene, the easier it is to release ourselves from the rules-based, nuts and bolts, mechanistic aspect of composition and see creatively, and thus achieve great results in our work. To internalize the objective in order to free the subjective.

But this blog is as much or more about appreciating shots already taken than about shooting. I find it helpful to think about these images in terms of principles of composition. "Debugging" these shots gives some insight into how they are put together. At the same time, I certainly realize that the best shots often have an extra quality that cannot be reduced into basic principles. Some shots "work" and some shots have innate beauty, and some of those qualities are beyond my language to express.

Any effect of these musings on the reader's practice of photography is, while welcome, incidental or at least secondary. Other than my hope that people are inspired by interesting images to try new ideas in their work.

As for my mechanistic approach in this blog, well, it's true! The principles of composition, as I have informally learned them, are the main "language" I have for expressing my thoughts. Over time here also I will be pursuing a non-mechanistic mode of expression, but it will be a while!

[The image is mine, one of the more creative shots I have taken. Captioned, B/W version here.]