Good Printing means good Editing

Four years ago when I first introduced my Digital Darkroom workshop, it was the least popular thing I offered in my list of workshops. I was personally surprised by this, as I had thought that this kind of workshop would be something a lot of people would be looking for. I was wrong.

It has taken this number of years to establish the course, and now it fills up very quickly each year. I'm glad that photographers have come to realise that editing is a skill that requires as much thought and deliberation as our fieldwork.

"Good edits come from improved visual awareness"

Editing isn't about just making the image a little more punchy, neither is it about applying templates to your work to make them look better, and it certainly isn't about trying to fix a bad image. Editing is about working with the tones within the picture, so you can navigate the viewer's eye around the aspects you want them to look at, and to take their eye away from the areas you wish to place in the background.

Right now, we are living in a period where the emphasis is on shooting. Editing is almost an afterthought. Something that is done afterwards. For some it is an attempt to 'try to make the picture look good', and for the few who have figured it out - they have come to realise that editing is related to what they noticed in the field. Indeed, I often choose locations to make a picture due to their tonal properties - I know they will work well in the edit stage because they have enough tonal separation to work with.

I do not treat the editing stage lightly. I have found it is perhaps the biggest contributor to my 'style'. It is a highly creative space to work in and I will spend hours, if not days and weeks working on a portfolio of new images.

I'd also add;

"Good prints are made from good edits.
And good edits can only be verified by reviewing prints"

This is most certainly true. You can't make a good print from a badly edited image, and likewise, you can't make a good edit without printing it to evaluate it. Let me explain.

When I came to preparing my Colourchrome book for publication last year, I printed every single one of the 40 images. I had to do this because it's the only way to confirm to myself that I've got my edits right.
 

"A calibrated and profiled monitor will only get you so far.
I've been fooled many times by seeing colour casts and other problems in the final print that weren't initially obvious on the monitor.
I would go back to see if they were visible on the monitor only to find out they were. I now print to verify that what I'm seeing is true. It's the only way"
 

Even though my monitor is calibrated and profiled to give me the most accurate representation of what's in my files, I still find discrepancies once I print them. This is because the eye is highly adaptable and once we've seen the image on the monitor for a while, we adapt to the monitor's colour and tonal response. For me, I've found that after a while I can't see colour casts. I need to print the work to verify it.

When I find discrepancies in the print, I go back to the monitor to check if those discrepancies are visible there also. They always are. Yet I had not seen them, because my eye had 'adapted' to the monitor the more I looked at it and I've come to realise that there is yet another skill required to 'interpret' what my monitor shows me.

Until I master being able to 'read' my monitor, the only way to 'see' the picture, is to print it out.
 

"We all should print.
It forces us to look again"
 

Prints also force us to take note of the luminosity of the tones in the print. It's only when I print that I notice that I'm not taking advantage of the tonal range available to me. You can of course use the hand widget in the Curves tool to interrogate tones to find out where they reside in the tonal scale. Or even use the LAB mode's Luminosity value in the info palette to show you where the tones really reside, but you still need to print the image out.
 

"Where I once thought something was bright and stood out,
I'm sometimes confronted with a lacklustre tonal range in print.
The print tells me I haven't gone far enough"
 

It's really a case of learning to interpret what your monitor is telling you. It's very hard to do because our eye adapts to what the monitor shows us and we become blind to what is actually there. 
 

"If you aren't printing: then you aren't getting the most out of your edits.
And ultimately, the images aren't optimised"

So you need to print. All photographers should print because it is a vital step in pushing your images to the best they can be.

Printing is also a step in learning to 'see' better, because we are forced to look again, to re-interpret the print and notice how it differs from what we thought you were seeing on our monitor.

My advice is - print, and incorporate it as part of your editing workflow. Printing helps inform your edits and show where you need to tighten up on tones that aren't as bold as you thought they were.

"Did I say you need to print? 
...You need to print!"

The Moon

This video is wonderful. 

I really should get a telescope. I've often wondered why there isn't such a high correlation between astronomers and landscape photographers, for in this video, it conveys the wonder of seeing the moon up close.

Vanishing Point

As I push and push the tonal registers in my edits, I begin to notice that there is a fine area where things are still just about visible, but almost at the point of disappearing. I like to play around with that vanishing point because in doing so, I can hopefully lead the viewer into having to look again, to wonder what is there.

After all, why does everything have to be spelled out for us? Where does the need come from, for this clarity in what we produce?

Why can't things be implied, left open to interpretation? Isn't there beauty in what has been left unsaid? 

Not knowing can be thrilling, but above all, more interesting to me than an answer, because up until the answer is given, anything is possible. Because when the answer is revealed, any mystique that was present, instantly vanishes.

The central highlands of Iceland is a space where boundaries become unclear. It's attraction for me is that often times, things aren't spelt out. Definition isn't always high on the agenda, and it's a place where gradual variances in tone can almost be lost in plain sight. What you think you're seeing isn't there because your mind wishes to fill in the empty spaces with 'something'.

Editing images so that the tones are almost at the very edge of becoming nothing (in this case absolute white) but still retaining a hint of colour is something I find fascinating to play with.

Where the dividing line becomes hard to find, your mind goes hunting for it, for your 'must' find a division point, an anchor, something to latch on to.

I ask myself 'why is that so?' Why do we need to have boundaries defined for us? Can't they remain unsolved for us? Where does our compulsion come from, to make sense, to answer all the unsaid aspects of a picture?

So I deliberately edit with the intention of introducing snow-blindness to our view of the photographs. Not knowing where one hill begins and another ends, is the story of these photographs. The central highlands becomes a playground for messing with the viewers visual system and its need to construct, to make sense of what it is seeing.

I'd much rather watch a movie where the story is left with no conclusion, than an film where everything is spelled out and explained to me. Because the film with no proper ending has room for interpretation, for it to become whatever my thoughts make of it.

Because in the agony of not knowing what really happens at the end, we endlessly work on the problem - always looking for meaning. It's certainly a much more interesting way to conclude a film than the tired approach of having to allocate 10 minutes at the end to explaining just what we saw. That kind of film invites us to think we need answers, when instead, there is often beauty in not knowing.

Do it for yourself, do what makes you happy

"You can please some of the people, some of the time,
but you can't please all of the people, all of the time,
so you may as well do what makes you happy"

Take it from me. I've been on the receiving end of a whole spectrum of correspondence and feedback about what I do. It ranges from very encouraging and positive to highly-critical. All of it is good and you just need to remember that any feedback you get is just someone's point of view. They're entitled to it and you are entitled to disregard it if it makes little sense to you.

If you plan to be a creative person, you will need to be prepared to stand up for your work, and to believe in yourself. Accepting that not everyone is going to like what you do and that someone else's opinion is just that: an opinion and nothing more will help you a lot.

My thoughts about creative confidence come down to these points:

1. Don't pander to what you think others may like, because you will only get lost as you are torn between one opinion and another.
2. Following trends only means you are conforming. You may be fitting in, but you won't be standing out either. Creative confidence is all about being an individual and finding your own path.
3. Don't create your photography looking for kudos, because you will only get lost as you seek others approval. See point 2.
4. Remember to enjoy what you do, because that joy is a sign that you have tapped into the right kind of creative direction: if it feels good, then you've found your creative-flow and you should run with it and see where it takes you.
5. Don't be overly critical of yourself because a serious case of 'writers-block' will only ensue. Instead, try to remain grounded and seek honesty with your efforts. All artists create bad work and what separates a good artist from a poor one is the ability to be objective: they aren't scared to see what they've created for what it is, and to work towards excellence in what they do.
6. Celebrate it when you create something outside your usual parameters; it is surely a sign that you are experimenting or reaching new ground in your own development.
7. Accept that nothing is a failure: bad photos, images that didn't quite work out teach us so much and besides, art should never be judged as successful or unsuccessful: it just is what it is. We are not here to give marks, to score points. We're here to be expressive.
8. Above all else: try to trust yourself and your judgement. Take note of when you 'feel' something is right and wrong and act accordingly.

I think the last point is perhaps the biggest one for me: learning to trust yourself, your judgement and your abilities takes confidence. Confidence comes from really knowing yourself and knowing where you are with your art. Good artists are always asking themselves questions about themselves, they are always seeking to grow and are always open to the thought that their art may take them to places they had never imagined: if they are willing to let go of personality traits such as being overly-critical (never happy with what they've done), overly-controlling (expecting a particular outcome), too easily pleased (happy with the usual), then some great art may come their way.

Digital Darkroom & Printing Workshops 2019

Just a short post today, to let you all know that I've published all of my Scottish based workshops for 2019 on my workshop page.

Digital Darkroom Photoshop-CS Masterclass

£0.00

Image Interpretation Techniques

Dates: 17 March to 22nd March, 2025


Price: £TBA
Deposit: £TBA

5-Day Photographic Mentoring Workshop
Scottish Highlands

Introduction

This workshop is a 50 / 50 split between field work (making images in the surrounding Wester Ross highland landscape) and Digital Darkroom Editing / image interpretation techniques carried out in a studio environment.

During our time together we will be based in the north west of the Scottish highlands.

Please note: This workshop is not about learning Photoshop-CS. Instead, its aim is to teach you how to interpret your work with the skills you have.

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sold out

Fine Art Printing Photoshop-CS Masterclass

£448.00

Image Interpretation & Printing Techniques

2019, May 27 - 01


Price: £1,695
Deposit: £448


6-Day Photographic Mentoring Workshop
Wester Ross, Scottish Highlands

Introduction

This workshop will cover the technical workflow aspects of printing from Screen calibration, proofing to print evaluation.

As part of printing your work, we will cover the same lessons taught in my Digital Darkroom' workshop, because good prints are made from good edits. And good edits can only be verified by printing.

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I am specifically focussing on mentoring style workshops with a focus towards learning. The workshops in particular are my Digital Darkroom and Printing classes. Both of these trips involve a lot of interpretation and daily discussions.

I've also chosen to change the format of both the Digital Darkroom and Printing classes so that they are focussed around Photoshop CS. This is because over the years that I have been running my classes, it has become apparent that Photoshop's Curve tool is the finest tool for tonal adjustment out there. Typically the workshops would start out with participants using Lightroom but often abandoning it when they saw the power that Photoshop's Curve tool has. I'm sure this might be quite contentious to many and I realise that everyone's mileage may vary.

A forest wedding

Sometimes an image contains some kind of symbolism. Well, perhaps they always contain some kind of symbolism. Whether it's a privately held feeling or view, or perhaps something a bit more literal that an audience can interpret.

A forest wedding, Hokkaido.
Image © Bruce Percy 2017

Someone on my Twitter account wrote to me that this photograph is 'a forest wedding'. I like that idea very much.

I shouldn't have to explain it, and I feel that if I did, some kind of magic would be lost in the marriage between the literary title and visual interpretation.

Finding out who you really are by acknowledging and thanking your influences

"Let influences be your guide. But don't let them define you"

We all have to start somewhere. That place is usually in the footsteps (or tripod holes) of those that we admire. It has often been said that the biggest form of flattery is imitation.

The Cuernos & Lago Pehoe.
Image © Galen Rowell

I would certainly agree with this. I know myself that I learned a lot during my initial years of photography by following in the footsteps of those that I admire. For example, I remember my whole reason for going to Patagonia back in 2003 was because I had been so inspired by the work of the late Galen Rowell. He had made one particular image of Lago Pehoe that just made me want to go there so badly and when I did, I sourced out the location where Galen made the image you see on the right.

I know my influences: Galen Rowell first gave me the motivation to use strong colour when I first started out. Through his writing and emotive images he taught me to embrace the adventure. Even today, his book 'Mountain Light' is perhaps my most favourite book on travel photography which I often return to when I feel I need to re-connect to my roots as to why I got into this whole thing in the first place.

Michael Kenna was and still is a great influence on me: I've learned so much from Michael's work over the decades that I have followed him (I've been a fan since the late 80's). He himself has said in many interviews that it is quite normal to follow in the footsteps of your heroes. By working in the places that they worked, you learn a lot about how they made the images they made.

The Cuernos & Lago Pehoe
Image © Bruce Percy

But there must come a time when your work should diverge from your heroes - it is usually a signal that you are beginning to find your own voice. Some of us have a long journey ahead of us to get there, and indeed, some of us never do. It is my hope though that we should all, at some stage, get a glimmer of who we really are underneath all the hero worshiping that is, I believe, a normal stage of development.

In this age of high proliferation: it is hard to be an individual. Indeed, I often feel that many people go to the same locations because they wish to capture similar shots that someone else has captured. We are bombarded with many shots of the same view, endlessly repeated on image sites that I think it is hard to step away and find our own voice.

To find one's own voice inevitably requires us to understand ourselves: to know who we are.

As part of finding out who we are,  we need to acknowledge and thank our influences. I remember noticing that Kenna had gone to some of Bill Brandt's locations and he had name checked his influence with the title  'Bill Brandt's Snicket', as you can see below:

Image Left: © Bill Brandt
Image Right © Michael Kenna (titled 'Bill Brandt's Snicket, Halifax, Yorkshire)

I myself have openly thanked Kenna in turn for kindly providing me with his guide's details for Hokkaido and the work I created there - I made sure to namecheck him as I felt a need to be in-tune with which parts of my creativity are truly my own, and which parts I've borrowed from my heroes. It's vital that I know who I really am and to do that, I have to recognise and understand my influences, and to thank them for what they have given me.

Image Left: © Michael Kenna 2007
Image Right: © Bruce Percy 2017

Following in the footsteps of one of my heroes, even now.

Photography is a personal journey into finding out who we really are. That is what makes it so special; it is our own private universe, a place where we get the chance to express our individuality. If we wish to get a clearer insight to who we really are as artists, and to know where we are going with our creativity,  we first need to understand our influences. But before we can continue, we also need to acknowledge and thank them for showing us the way forward.

Postscript:

I received a few replies about this post where the reader assumed I was telling them to go and literally thank their influences:

"If the person who influenced you didn’t mention that they had already been “influenced” by another photographer. Or who do you mention when shooting something like St Paul’s? Could be 1000’s thinking they deserve a mention. Do you mention the influencer every time you post it?"

That's the problem with the written word: readers can often read into what you've said and come up with a different meaning than the one I intended.

If anyone is still in doubt about what I was suggesting, I am merely saying it's good to be aware of your influences. You can thank them any way you can, but the easiest way is to just be mindful and to recognise that they are part of the reason you do what you do.

Forest Shadow

Great photos aren't about pixels. Neither are they about resolution. They aren't about technology and they aren't about plug-in's or software. Great photos aren't about the camera we used to make them.

Great photos are about engagement. They are about having a great idea, a strong composition to start with.

Much like a good story, good photographs don't need to be supported by gimmicks. Just as good songs don't require expensive production techniques to make them good, great songs can be played on simple instrument because the strength of the idea behind them carry them along. 

Good images just need a good idea. They shouldn't need much more to make them work.

Yet we live in an age where we can become lost in the technology. Where we are convinced we need another software-app, HDR, Focus-stacking or to blend images to produce good work.  This is not true. We just need our images to be strong ideas to begin with. An ill-conceived image will always be an ill-conceived image, no matter how much gloss we apply to it.

Jon Hopkins shows us that some very simple chords on a piano can bewitch us. Strip it back and it still works. It's a reminder that great ideas have a knack of carrying themselves.

When I'm out making images and selecting which ones to use later on, I always respond to how I feel about them. If they are strong, I usually know because strong work tends to let you know what it wants. Like strong song ideas that tend to write themselves, good images tend to come from nowhere and dictate to you what needs to be done.

Weak work on the other hand doesn't. Weak ideas often lack conviction and send confused muddled messages about what they are and where they want to go.

If you want to improve your photography, then I would suggest you dump your technology. Put to one side the HDR, focus-stacking, blending, software-apps for a moment, and instead, go out and listen to your intuition as it's the best photography tool you possess.

International to British Translation

When I first started out running workshops and tours, I found it difficult to coordinate the group. If I said that it was time to go, some of the group would stay and I wasn't sure what I was doing wrong. Well, being British means that we often tend to skirt around the issue. We're don't say what we mean.

I learned that rather than saying 'I think it's about time to go', which is a British way of saying 'we are going now', I had to be more direct. Some of my mainland european friends wouldn't understand and they would assume it was just an observation and would stay, or would say 'oh? It's so lovely, let's stay a bit longer'. I've now learned to say 'it is time to go' now, or 'we are going now' as that is a much clearer way of telling others, especially if they are non-native English speakers.

So, if you are planning a trip to Britain sometime soon, or perhaps you are coming on a tour / workshop with me, then this is a little card below to help you translate the Brits and of course myself.

The quiet background

The same location can be much more simple to photograph when the background disappears. Using fog, snow showers or rain to obliterate the background can reduce the complexity of the image and it's something to consider when you visit a location. In fact, I love to repeatedly go back to a location under different weather conditions because the whole scene will be transformed if parts or the whole of the background disappears or comes back in to view.

Below I show you three images: the first two are variations on the same subject but both have varying degrees of success in removing the background for the scene. In the third and final image the background is evident and the picture is a little more complex as a result.

Before you look at the images below, I would like to stress that I am not saying one image is better than another. Each and every one of us will have our own preferences. So let's get beyond comparing them from the point of view of which you like most and instead, it would be ideal if you can just consider whether the image is more complex or less complex when the background disappears.

Lake Kussharo, Hokkaido Japan, January 2018
Image © Bruce Percy 2018.

Lake Kussharo, Hokkaido Japan, January 2018
Image © Bruce Percy 2018.

Again, I wish to reiterate: I am not saying that one image is better than another. I am saying that when you remove more elements in the frame the image may become less complex or quieter. It's up to you which you prefer.

Going back to the same location and trying it again under different conditions can yield surprising results and it just goes to prove that the tired mantra of 'it's been done to death' is never true.