North Korean Hack Job

The funeral procession of North Korean president Kim Jung Il garnered a strange and unusual bit of attention this week when it was discovered that a North Korean state news agency photo was doctored before release. The photoshopping of some non-conformist cameramen and a few tire tracks was quickly caught when a Japanese press version of the almost exact same photo was released. Citing a violation of rules against digital manipulation, press agencies quickly issued a “kill” for the manipulated image, but not before the deadline for Time Magazine, which shipped with the doctored photo.

So who cares about the photoshopping of something so insignificant? That question has pundits scratching their heads. Are the North Koreans such control fanatics that they would Photoshop out a team of cameramen who weren’t obediently lineup up in reverence to “Dear Leader”? The authenticity of photos from North Korea has long been questioned. Finding clear evidence of manipulation illustrates the level of control state media outlets wish to maintain—and their complete ineptitude at Photoshop.

Oddly enough, while searching the Internet for information about this incident, I found this on Adobe’s web site: “By downloading or using an Adobe software product you are certifying that you are not a national of Cuba; Iran; Iraq; Libya; North Korea; Sudan; or Syria or any country to which the United States embargoes goods…” So was this horrible cloning done with a bootleg copy of Photoshop?

So what can “Joe Sixpack Photographer” learn from this event? The Associated Press says, “The content of a photograph will NEVER be changed or manipulated in any way. Only the established norms of standard photo printing methods such as burning, dodging, black-and-white toning and cropping are acceptable. Retouching is limited to removal of normal scratches and dust spots.” But for the rest of the non-photojournalist world, “fixing” images in Photoshop is an everyday task.

Perhaps the best lesson is to ensure that before anyone sees your photoshopped work, it passes muster. If you can’t clone any better than the Korean state press, then you shouldn’t share your photoshopped work with others. Secondly, NEVER let anyone see the original images. This is probably true of your original RAW images, as well.

But what if, as you are packing up after a shoot of a softball team, someone says, “I forgot to tell you that Sally couldn’t be here. Can you Photoshop her in.” Uh-oh. Not a time to call the North Korean press agency for technical help.

As more professionals become true experts at Photoshop, the line will become increasingly blurred between what can and can’t be discerned as a manipulation. Will photographic evidence become completely unreliable because no one, including experts, can tell what has been doctored?

Get the Picture

“Get the picture, now,” In my version of the world, that phrase from that gravelly voice was how college football games were supposed to start. Despite winning a national championship in 1980 and playing in two consecutive Sugar Bowls in subsequent years, Georgia didn’t play on television much during my childhood. Instead, I saw the “red and black” through the eyes of a transplanted Yankee from Minneapolis, Minnesota. And for all but last three years of my life, Larry Munson was every bit as big of a part of the team as Hershel Walker, Vince Dooley, or Lindsay Scott.

Some of my favorite childhood memories are of Saturday afternoons with my Dad. Fall in the south means football and hunting. I remember riding with my Dad on Saturday's, Munson's play-by-play the backdrop of so many afternoons. It would be almost twenty years before I got to attend a game in Sanford Stadium, but through Munson's eye's, I was at them all.

I met Larry Munson for the first time when I was in high school. He was the big-name speaker at my high school’s athletic banquet. And no, I wasn’t there to get a sports award. I was in the jazz band playing dinner music for the guests. But Munson was gritty and crass and told lots of ribald jokes. The pedestal I had placed him on grew even taller.

Twenty five years later, I met Munson again while hanging out in the Georgia press box with a broadcasting friend. We walked up to a group near the press buffet and someone turned to us and said in a gravelly voice, “Hi, how you doing.” My wife, another transplanted Yankee who had no idea what Munson looked like, said, “You’re Larry Munson.” Larry and I were both impressed.

Larry was a unique broadcaster. He was a homer. Those who weren’t Bulldogs disliked his lack of objectivity. The rest of us loved him for it. We felt his anguish and his exhilaration. Even though we don’t smoke, we wanted to light up a cigar with him when we finally found a way to beat Florida and Tennessee. For forty-two years, he were passionate and real.

Thanks for “run Lindsey Scott.” Thanks for the “sugar falling from the sky.” Thanks for the “hobnail boot.” Thanks Larry for a lifetime of memories.

An Invitation

I would like to invite all of my friends and fans to my upcoming photography show on Thursday, December 1. I will be sharing the show with local painter Leslie Miller. This is a first for me. Encouraged by friends, I've decided it's time to share printed versions of my fine art photography with the middle Georgia community. On display will be eighteen to twenty of some of my favorite photographs. It will be a casual affair, with wine and refreshments onhand, as well as the jazz stylings of pianist and fellow Grapevine member, Dr. Neil Rigole.

The cornerstone of the photographs presented at the show will be the three pieces from my Clinton Series. I'm extremely proud of the way these hand-textured and tinted photos turned out. I will also reveal some new works, printed in large format, that will hopefully demonstrate both my versatility and my love of the medium.

Please join me on December 1 at the Knox Civic Center in Gray, Georgia from 5:30 PM to 7:30 PM. I look forward to the opportunity to mingle with guests and enjoy art in Jones County.

Barry Feinstein

Barry Feinstein died this week at the age of 80. Most folks probably have never heard of Feinstein. But his fingerprints on two of my favorite things--music and photographer--are significant. He is considered by many to be among the best music photographers of all time.

A perusal of Feinstein's work will not reveal technically stunning images. The wow factor so obvious in his work is the seemingly complete comfort his subjects have in front of his lens. I certainly never met him or any of the artists he shot, but in so many of the shots in his portfolio or in the more than 500 album covers he captured, I feel like I can see into the soul of the artist. Bob Dylan, Janis Joplin, Georgia Harrison, Eric Clapton, and so many others sought him out for album cover photography. And Feinstein served as the photographer for two of Dylan's tours.

Gaining the trust and comfort of a subject, is a worthy lesson for any photographer. How many times do we look through the lens and see a tight, stiff subject transformed by a case of nerves and discomfort. Take a moment to celebrate Barry Feinstein's life by thumbing through his portfolio and the lifes of the artists he captured.

Chantarelle

It's not every day that one of my neighbors calls and says, "I've got the most amazing fungus in my backyard. Bring your camera and come over here." I'll have to admit, I've never photographed a mushroom before. But after hours of photographing people, electrical outlets, robots, sunsets, waterfalls, and countless other items and landscapes, why not a fungus. So Nikon in tow, I'm off to Ben's house.

Sure enough, it's an impressive mound of fantastic fungi. I don't think it's laden with psilosyban, which did quickly come up in conversation, but that's not a topic where I have vast experience either. But buried in deep shade with bright sunlight in the background, there's some tremendous rim lighting if only I can pull out some details in the shadowy foreground. I always keep an speedlight in my camera bag. Ben was surprised to the see the wireless control of the Commander system as I placed a CTO on the SB800 and started banging away.

For the record, I think this mushroom is called a chantarelle. If so, it's edible, apparently a delicacy is French cuisine. I'm not French, I'm not that fond of French food, and I'm not big on playing the mushroom taste-test lottery. But they are much more fun to take photos of than you might expect.

The Georgia Aquarium

I recently took a day off and took some relatives to see the Georgia Aquarium. Despite the price and the crowds, it's a wonderful, but challenging, place to take photographs. It combines dramatic lighting with people who are typcially not paying any attention to you.

The Georgia Aquarium features the largest salt water tank in the world. Inside it are three whale sharks (at least for now). The magnitude of this tank is almost overwhelming. And when you can catch it on a slow day when school is in, it's a wonderful place for contemplation. It's also a great place to photograph people photographing animals.

But my favorite creatures to photograph are the jellyfish. The Georgia Aquarium's tank of sea nettles is one of the best in the southeast. But they are frustrating creatures to capture. While dramatically lit, it is still very dark and the darned things just don't know how to hold a pose. I've tried many different tricks to beat the autofocus challenge of shooting through inch thick glass, but my rate of throw-aways to keepers is still maybe ten percent. I took almost all of these images with a 50mm f1.8 prime lens at ISO 100.

You can view more of them here.

Happy Independence Day

Happy Independence Day. Thanks to those who gave so much so that we have this precious freedom. Here are some scenes from my last trip to Washington D.C. in May. In just a few short hours, I light painted the Korean War Memorial, took a ten second exposure at the World War II Memorial, and got kicked off the grounds of the capital because I was shooting with a tripod. D.C. is an incredible place to take photographs. You could spent years there with a camera and not touch it all. Visiting in the height of tourist season makes it a bit more challenging.

Augusta National

Last month, I got the opportunity to go to a practice round at The Masters. Whether or not you play golf, Augusta National is a place of wonderment. For a lifetime, I’ve been mesmerized by images of these azalea-lined, immaculate fairways. But you can’t appreciate the perfection without seeing it in person. If golf were a religion, Augusta is the grand cathedral—the men who walk vie these green hills our Gods.

The Masters patrons worship here with a reverence seen and heard only in the quiet confines of a basilica. While I’ve attended many other PGA events that were more like parties where there happened to be golf, the spectators at Augusta are reserved, save for that special birdie or eagle roar that electrifies the grounds, and extremely polite. Maybe they are paying homage to the living history here. Or maybe they are just terrified of losing a truly priceless badge forever. Masters patrons also spend an enormous amount of money on merchandise. Augusta National brilliantly refuses to sell logoed merchandise anywhere but the seven days the event is held each year. As a result, the gift shops are continually filled with fans eager to part with $75 for the cheapest golf shirt or $30 for a hat.

For those who cannot get a badge to one of the four Master’s rounds, practice round tickets are almost as golden. For me, a practice round ticket is all the more valuable because cameras are permitted, albeit with lots of rules. Shooting sports photography from behind the ropes in the middle of the day is not exactly an easy task. Invariably, I was in the wrong spot. Despite coming home with only a few keepers, I had a blast and can’t wait to shoot, and worship, in American golf’s most spectacular cathedral again.

Alien Invasion

A grotesque creature has decended, or should I say ascended, into middle Georgia. With the right light and music, Magicicada would look and sound at home pursuing Sigourney Weaver through the Nostromo. Much like the acid filled bugs in Alien, these insects have been waiting for just the right time to emerge.

Over the last three weeks, millions of 13 year cicadas have crawled out of the ground as grubs, shed their skin, and emerged as loudly singing, red-eyed, winged monsters. Unlike the late-summer annual cicadas (which actually emerge from the ground every three to five years, but are present every year), these annoying beasts emerge every 13 years (some are on a 17 year cycle). Their only goal is to mate, lay eggs in tree branches, and die. The young hatch, fall to the ground, and burrow below, not to be seen for another 13 years.

With so many of these odd creatures flying about the yard, I couldn't resist a few macro shots. As such is the case with any photo, my intent is to capture something unexpected, yet something that tells a story. These were all taken with my Sigma 105mm macro, the only lens I own that is not a Nikon. With a depth of field of less than a 1/4 inch at f2.8, shooting handheld is tricky and any breeze is a curse. While a tripod might have made focusing easier, navigating a camera through tree limbs and following the bugs made it impractical, if not impossible.

X-Girls; An Exercise in Technology

There are many photographers who think Photoshop is evil. Some purists still insist on shooting film, even though it costs them a lot of money. But for so many working photographers, whether it’s a simple RAW conversion or hours of photoshop work and dozens of correction layers, no one sees our images right out of the camera. I recently had a project that left no options but several hours of photoshop work to achieve what I had hoped to do in camera.

I have long admired the edgy, rim-lighted sports portraits that fill the pages of leading sports magazines like ESPN and television ads. I have created a few of those myself. It was this type of shot I had in mind when asked to shoot the softball team of a friend’s daughter. But instead of being able to shoot this how and where I wanted, where I could control the light, I was forced to take this photo at 2:00 PM in full sunlight at a ball field with zero shade, nothing of great interest for a setting, and no electric power for plugging in powered strobes. So I had to try and wrestle back control of the light from the sun with speedlights. And that’s exactly what I did.

As best I could tell from the LCD, albeit in full sunlight, I composed a nice “tough girl” portrait of nine softball players. Using the eyeblack I had requested along with the bats, gloves, and balls used for props, no one looked terribly out of place. I had just about finished packing up my gear when the head coach said, “I hear you’re pretty good with Photoshop. We actually have one more player who didn’t show up.” Great. Nice to find out after the fact.

After a “makeup” shoot at a similar time and similar lighting conditions with the “missing” player and more hours of Photoshop work than I will divulge, I’m pretty pleased with the final product. It’s definitely a portfolio builder and a look that I will continue to use with future shots. And if you think you know, please drop me a line with a guess as to which player I composited in.

March Madness

Could there possibly be a better sporting event than March Madness? I know it’s a stretch to think of the NCAA Men’s Basketball Championship as one event when there are actually 68 teams in the field and somewhere around 862 games played. But for three weeks, a big chunk of the world’s male population forgets that they really don’t care that much about basketball and glues themselves to the television to see if Butler, Gonzaga, or some other underdog will emerge as this year’s Cinderella in sneakers, dashing their bracket and bragging rights to smithereens.

I was recently asked by a friend to take some photos of a local basketball league for his church’s website. Not exactly the big dance, but an opportunity to learn, nonetheless. The only problem—his church’s gym is lighted with a minimal number of fluorescent fixtures. No high-bay metal halides. No downlights from the overhead scoreboard. From a photography standpoint, it might as well be lighted by a couple of lilac bath candles and a kid with a green glowstick. I’m talking dark.

Not to be deterred, I schemed up an idea based on my travels to college arenas, where real sports photogs use the built in light system. So with two 340 watt/second Alien Bee moonlights on lightstands bouncing off of the white ceiling and fired wirelessly with a radio trigger, I was able to get f2-1/50 ambient light to look something like f8-1/250. Just what I needed to stop some action. They aren’t great compositions or works of art. No matter how much I encouraged them, the players ran around wherever they wanted to go, oblivious to the rule of thirds or my needs. But I learned a new technique that worked very well, and hopefully populated a Baptist website with the best darn recreation league basketball photos ever taken in a middle-Georgia church gym in March. Now that’s madness.