SEEKING IMAGES

SEEING BEYOND THE ICONS

They come to Yosemite with hearts pounding. Landscape photographers, in pursuit of the soaring granite cliffs and pounding waterfalls, seek to make their own images of this iconic location. Hundreds of classic images are embedded in our memories and recalled at the recognition of a viewpoint seen somewhere in a book or online. Ah ha! This is where Ansel stood! With luck, and the right combination of lens and light, you too might expose a classic photograph. Why not try? I have stood at most of these spots in Yosemite, exposed many images, and relished standing where great art was made.

After the brush with photo history fades, perhaps after a few visits or even a few years, one can start to see Yosemite, or any other iconic landscape for that matter, in a new way. If you wish to accept this challenging task, I have a few suggestions.

Walk, without your camera. Leave it in the car, somewhere nearby, but not in hand. Expect nothing, feel everything. Let all your senses work for you. Enjoy nature for its own sake. Trust yourself to see, and trust that your own unique perspective will surface above the derivative, at least now and again. Explore, explore, explore!

Methods that might help you tune into a location include meditation or yoga, going for a run or a swim, or making sketches of the landscape, all of which can be ways to prepare the mind and spirit for creativity. Canadian photographer Freeman Patterson wrote a great book along this theme, entitled Photography and the Art of Seeing. The book covers his philosophy on creative and visual thinking and is full of exercises that may help you develop or improve your personal style. Each photographer finds personal ways of seeking inspiration, both within nature and within himself or herself.

The image on the previous spread, Cedar Trees and Rock Circle, 1986, was taken in Yosemite National Park, a few miles from my home. The Merced River was running high with spring snowmelt. One evening I parked my car along the road and walked a few steps to the river’s edge. The roar of the river washed away all other sounds and mesmerized me. Along this section, the river ran fast but smooth. The sun was down behind the canyon wall, but a soft light glowed off the water as I faced west. I wandered along the bank, without my camera, of course. I noticed some cedar trees that were reflected in the current, and a circle of rocks that was probably an old campfire, yet it reminded me of ancient stone monuments. Off I went to retrieve my camera.

The biggest issue in composing the image was carefully arranging the spaces between the trees, and between the trees and the rocks. I wanted the lines of each tree to be defined separately, so inched my tripod along the river to the right spot. I moved forward a bit, aiming the camera down slightly so that the tree trunks were at the top of the frame and the rocks at the bottom, leaving the space in between for the reflections.

The exposure time was around two minutes because of low light and my use of a small aperture for maximum depth of field. Such long exposures made of moving water are wonderfully unpredictable and nearly always interesting in effect to me. The color of the western sky and the tree reflections would turn into a watercolor wash surrounding the hard edges of tree and rock. I made four exposures, dodging a million mosquitoes all the while, and then happily went home.

Cottonwoods and Mist | Yosemite National Park, California | 2019

For this photograph of cottonwood trees and mist, I used my 100–400mm lens at 360mm to isolate the graphic trees and atmospheric fog. Looking for small sections of Yosemite’s landscapes allows me to find compositions others might miss, and avoid repeating the standard iconic imagery.

Half Dome and Elm, Winter | Yosemite National Park, California | 1990