theory

A pair of Stanford University astrophysicists have proposed a new way to use gravitational lensing that would be up to 1,000 times more precise than current methods. The hope is to use the concept to take better photos of distant planets.

One of the reasons we pursue landscape photography is to connect with nature. Many photographers cite calmness, a sense of peace, and inspiration when they are surrounded by stunning scenery. I am one of them. Unfortunately, it is increasingly common that the encounter is modified by some human-made element.

I was struggling through Caesar in 10th grade Latin class when I first heard the term “synecdoche” (although the term is from the Greek) — it’s a figure of speech where a part of something is used to represent the whole. Today, familiar synecdoche include “threads” to mean clothing, as in “dig these new threads I’m wearing.” Or “boots on the ground” when talking about soldiers. Or “she got a cool set of wheels” to mean a new car.

I often hear photographers express frustration with their images, saying something like, "My photographs don't capture what I really see." But cameras actually do a great job of capturing what things look like. I think what people really mean is that their photographs don't capture what they felt when they made the exposure.

I set out for the beach before dawn. It’s not always easy getting up when it’s still dark outside, but I always return home thinking I should do this more often.

The process of crafting great imagery is something I have been studying for years. One of the undertakings in this riveting pursuit was to study hundreds of great images from many photographers.

Going out with your camera on a regular basis is an important part of expanding your personal growth, creativity, and mental health. During this worldwide pandemic, it means exploring the world close to home.

The overall measure of success for any photographer will likely be at least partially attributable to the effectiveness with which they are able to edit their own work.

The development of personal vision in photography often gets mired in thoughts of what to avoid, the suppression of familiar ideas, and the desire to do something different.

Long before photography was even a dream, people were trying to document the beauty of landscapes in a two-dimensional medium. From romantic interpretations of natural beauty to the realistic and mystifying Hudson River School painters, there have always been trends in how we see the landscape.

It's my belief that color is actually one of the most subjective elements that we as humans all understand, yet we actually have no real way of enforcing or translating it to one another.

What makes a great landscape photo, great? Some appreciate an image for its technical prowess or adhering to certain rules. It might be focused correctly and sharp throughout the scene. It could be well-exposed, offering wide dynamic range. Some like to see leading lines or the rule of thirds.

It's funny how deceiving a photograph can be. I wouldn't blame anyone for thinking that this roller skater has turned his head to check out the girl on her phone as he skates past her. Without any context, that does appear to be the story here.

The folks over at Canva have put together a fun, interactive Color Wheel tool that might just be the easiest, most enjoyable way way to play around with and learn about color theory.

I’ve always had a fascination with geometry and man-made structures, their perfection has a strong attraction on me. It took me time to realize that what I appreciated most wasn’t necessarily their symmetry or the simple repetition of shapes but the parallelism between the various elements of the construction of an image.

No matter how you feel about Instagram, if you’re reading this you know that you need it. Period. Social media can change careers. Instead of being stuck working with people in your 15-mile radius, you’re now open to the world. But if you’re reading this, you’re probably also using Instagram wrong.

I’d like to think that as I age I get wiser. I sure hope so because I want to be a better person every day! Lately I’ve been pondering about principles. For most of my life I’ve been chasing after the 1-2-3 approach only to realize that things are so complex, I would have been better off knowing the principles of life rather than going in without any guiding principle.

Since I am a photographer, I’ve compiled 5 principles that I’ve discovered that are beneficial for photographers. I hold them as true because they’ve always been true for me and I am sure they will be for you too!

Lomography began as an art movement in the early 1990s after a group of Viennese students discovered the LC-A, a camera manufactured by Russian imaging company LOMO. The fixed lens 32mm f/2.8 compact camera produced unique images that were off-color, vibrant, and soft. On a mission to advocate the use of these creative cameras and experimental film, photographers quickly formed the Lomographic Society International in 1992.

Despite the movement producing wonderfully interesting images that have been exhibited in both Moscow and New York City, it has received substantial criticism from self-dubbed “real photographers.” This opinion piece aims at breaking down the wall of prejudice, and opening minds to the possibility of creative photography outside of normal standards.

Ever since junior high school, I was the kid with the camera. And many years later, I’m still the guy who shows up to every life event with camera in hand to document the lives of my friends.

I used to carry around a hulking DSLR, but the weight bothers me, and the large size feels too intrusive for the everyday. I don’t want to interrupt life by taking photos, I simply want them to remember the fractions of a second that end up representing curated slices of life.

Early on in my street photography career, I went on YouTube and searched for some inspiration on other street photographers. I came across the work and approach of Bruce Gilden, who absolutely blew me away. He would photograph people at very close proximities (about an arm's-length away), while shooting with a flash on a 28mm lens.

Photography is powerful because we can place ourselves into the perspective of those we see in an image. Whether it’s street photography, photojournalism or portraiture, we use photography to understand ourselves in relation to people around us.

Dove Canada is getting serious about promoting Real Beauty by going after art directors, graphic designers and photo retouchers -- basically anyone who distorts body image in print. In order to fight those who they feel create an unrealistic representation of what the body actually looks like, they created a "Beautify" action that can be downloaded for free from popular editing sites. The action appears to add a "glowing skin" effect when in reality, it reverts the image back to its original, unretouched state, thus driving home Dove's philosophy that "Real Beauty Isn't Retouched."

I don't know about you, but if I downloaded a skin enhancing action only to find it reverted my image back to the unretouched state, I'd be throwing out all my Dove products in protest.

Quite a few years ago I took a solo trip down to Key West, FL. It was the first time I had gone on a vacation by myself, and since I was free of the distraction of friends and family, I decided it would make a great opportunity to expand upon my photography skills.

You see, the trip was shortly after I had decided to take this whole photography hobby of mine seriously. I had worked with video for years but now I wanted to work on becoming a good photographer as well, not just one that took as many photos as possible and then looked for the three good ones out of the hundreds shot (seriously, it's a horrible method and I wouldn't recommend it to anybody).

I did a trip to Paris solely to take photographs for myself back in 1992. That sounds selfish, but I didn't have any children to take care of and my wife was enmeshed in a busy career as an art director for a prosperous advertising agency.

I was approached by Agfa that year to be a tester for their line of APX films and I requested a case of their 100 speed film and another of their 400 speed film. They asked me where I wanted to photograph and I said, "Paris." A month later, in late October, I was there with a camera bag full of new Canon EOS lenses and a couple of camera bodies. Oh, and a big shopping bag full of black and white film.

As I sat trapped in a coach seat on an aged and tattered American Airlines airplane I had time to think about the whole spectrum of art photography. I wanted to have a clearer window into the different ways in which people who aren't using their cameras to make a living in a traditional, commercial application of photography approach their subjects and their understanding of style. How much is generated internally and how much is a reflexive reaction to a world inundated in images?

I spoke with a person in the film industry on Friday. We were talking about HMI lighting and he made a remark concerning still photographers. I give him credence since his background originally included a successful career in photography. His remark, in regards to the real lack of lighting acumen among most shooters was this: "There's no such thing as a good photographer under 40."

A camera can be many things. A tool, to produce an image. A bridge, to start a conversation. An observer, to record an event, or bear witness to something. A shield, to distance and separate the photographer from the scene he or she is attempting to capture.

There’s a big difference between being part of the action, and just being a witness to the action. Which do you think makes for stronger images? Unquestionably, the former. However, it’s not that simple: photojournalism is like quantum mechanics.

Here's a primer for beginning photographers on the concepts of aspect ratios and compositional theories.

Here's a slightly-oldie but a very-goodie: New York University photography professor Fred Ritchin gave this keynote address last year at the "What's Next?" event put on by Foam. He shares his thoughts on the past, present, and future of digital photography and how it impacts the world around us.

Last month photographer Chris Crisman entered the photograph above, titled Butterfly Girl, into the World Photography Organization’s 2012 World Photography Awards. It was selected from the thousands of entries as part of a promotional campaign for the contest and in that process was spread out all over the Internet. From the Daily Mail to the Huffington Post, the story about the World Photo Awards and Chris’s photo made the rounds across the web.

In particular, on the UK news site The Daily Mail, the photo generated a ton of comments and sparked some controversy as to whether or not it was appropriate for a photography competition. This caused me to ask myself the question: "What defines a photograph?"

How well do you know the area in which you live? Or any area you regularly visit, for that matter? This may seem like the question of an idiot -- of course you know your area of residence -- but do you really? Have you explored every road and back road and high street and side street and pathway and alleyway? I’m aware I strayed into polysyndeton, but it’s relevant to the question I’m asking: how well do you know the area in which you live?

A brief exchange during a passing conversation a few days ago got me thinking. Someone said something about how lucky I was to make a living as an artist. I immediately corrected them; while immensely thankful for my career, a job where I get to wake up every day and make images, I felt obligated to point out that most of the time I am not, in fact, an artist at all.

At best, assignment photographers are craftsmen, not artists, solving other people’s problems and putting other people’s ideas into effect in the most timely and cost-effective way possible; to think otherwise is delusional.

Rodney Smith of The End Starts Here has written an interesting piece on the topic of smiling, and argues that smiling is a "false sentiment" that separates a casual photograph from a portrait.

Philosopher and Georgia Tech professor Ian Bogost gave this short talk recently on …

Here's an uber-inspiring video in which National Geographic photographer Sam Abell discusses the difference between "taking" and "making" photographs through his experience of shooting one particular photograph for a story on painter Charles M. Russell. He explains that taking an image is shooting a photo as a reaction, without any preparation, while making a photograph is a process.

The debate regarding what makes a photograph "truthful" or not is probably as old as the art of photography itself. By sheer coincidence, there were a couple interesting articles published today on this issue, and written from two different points-of-view.

Maybe when Leica’s designers were brainstorming ideas for the company’s logo, they noticed …

“The Cameraman” is a cartoon retelling of a true story involving a bunch of first-graders and a camera craze …

A great way to learn and become inspired is to look at great photographs. Even better is listening to …