With situations that I am called upon to photograph frequently, like college campuses, one of the challenges is to keep it new. Particularly so that the work keeps my interest, I want to find photographs that I have not seen before.
The University of Chicago is such that it is hard to take a bad photograph here, particularly during a snowstorm. I know the campus well by now, and I know where the pretty spots lie. This was the fun part of the day, and there's some great material to show for it.
But Crown Fieldhouse, the old athletics building, that was my challenge today. The big gym, where all the action is, has these horrid sodium vapor lights that suck out all the “good photograph here” potential. This was my struggle, and it made for some of those photographs-that-I-haven't-seen-before moments, partially out of desperation.
I try and do most of my work available light, but I do carry a couple of Speedlights and the Canon IR Transmitter. This was my only hope under this light. The other novelty element for me is sports in general, about which generally I know nothing and pay as little attention to as possible.
At one end of the hall they were practicing what I think was hammer throw, which has never, ever before crossed my radar. Superficially, it looks like the ultimate, primal sport. Throw a heavy thing as far as you can. Here was my chance to watch and understand what this strange activity was, and to try and make an interesting photograph out of it.
My lens didn't fit between the netting, but I quickly realized that making the net part of the image added a neat layer of complexity to the shot. I would have to light this situation, and it turned out the netting was perfect for jamming the Speedlights into them at eye level. I put one on each side, and started taking pictures. As watched the throw through the camera, and tried to understand the pivitol moment of the action, I understood that there was truly a lot of technique at play in heaving a heavy ball as far away as possible. Apparently you rotate around the center of gravity of yourself and the ball, you get the centrifugal force to help elevate the ball over your head, and then accelerate and let go at the precise right instant.
I took about 30 shots, knowing that I was beseeching the gods of accident to give me the compelling shot. This is very different than accidentally getting a great photo. I tend to let a lot of room in my process for accident, but I'm very aware of what part of the moment I'm letting accident have its way. As it turned out,most of the shots aren't worth a second look. I knew that would be the case going in.
But in the end, I got one photograph I haven't ever seen before.
Great shot, and a cool story. Your words about this process overlapped with your description at the beginning of the year about shooting at Montlake Fill. Neat.
Posted by: romanlily | February 07, 2008 at 08:20 AM
I hadn't noticed that, but I'm not surprised. I'm only going to be able to write about the same thing in so many ways.
Posted by: Doug Plummer | February 07, 2008 at 05:47 PM
You could probably say the same thing 30 different ways -- I'll probably find it interesting every time. It's rewarding to see how you come away with photos from a wide variety of different situations while using a similar approach.
Posted by: romanlily | February 08, 2008 at 10:39 AM