If we are looking for more dynamics in our shooting, more possibilities, then we really need to shoot in all kinds of weather. Scotland, where I’m from, has such changeable light, that often one can be forgiven for thinking it’s a limitation, or perhaps a simple frustration. In a way, it’s actually a blessing: things never look the same twice, and if you’re willing to get the camera a little bit wet, you can open up your photography to so much more possibilities.
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The conventional view is that we take photographs of subjects, and all we need to do is work on where to place them in the scene to get a good composition.
Light is often considered an important part of the scene, but is rarely considered to be the main reason for the photo. Coming to a place where there are no definite subjects, no iconic mountains, no iconic trees, no iconic views to photograph, can lead many to feel lost, and be lost.
But looking for a subject, in a way, is a form of security blanket. Many of us feel unanchored and uncertain if we do not have one, but a good subject does not guarantee a good photograph.
If the light is not good, or there is no atmosphere, then the picture will be lacking in emotion. It will feel static and dead. Instead, we must learn to consider the light first. If we can work in a location that is devoid of tangible, physical subjects, then we will be forced to study and make do with the light alone.
And to make things a little more challenging, to get the best light, one must learn to work in different weather systems, from dry to inclement, as we seek different qualities of light. Getting comfortable working with your camera in the rain is essential. if you wish to have access to the atmospheres that are available to you.
I have found working in bad weather to be where the most interesting light can be found. If we only ever shot in dry days, we are leaving out a whole index of atmospheric possibilities. Our pictures will be very one-dimensional.
The light in Scotland can often be very changeable as one low-weather system after another races across the Scottish landscape. It is its strength, not its weakness. I often come to the Scottish island of Harris in November. The island is in the north of the country. It's small, remote and on the edge of the Atlantic Ocean During November it is often buffeted with one advancing low front after another.
Being here is a lesson in learning to work with the light as you pursue those fleeting yet very emotive atmospheric scenes you will for sure encounter. Everything is much more dynamic in November.
I tend to shoot exposures of two to four minutes here as it allows me to blur the fast moving clouds that race across the landscape. Shooting long exposures collapse detail upon detail. Water and sky textures are often reduced or removed entirely and we are left with scenes of gradated tone only.
This landscape excels at atmospheric light. It is a minimalist playground of luminance and colour, because there is little in the way of foreground or background subjects with which to lean on. There is no security blanket. No iconic subjects that may divert your attention away from what is most important.
Instead, you are left to work with the essential elements of light and shade alone.