For the past decade, I've enjoyed a long, monogamous relationship with aperture priority settings. My modus operandi is a 3.2 aperture and 1/100th shutter speed. I thought I'd spend a lifetime with AP--and then came along my new lighting director with his off-camera flash units in tow.
What I love about my Canon ETTL is its camera flash auto-metering--it's been years since I touched my light meter. But the incorporation of detached strobes into my photographer's toolkit necessitated dredging up the light meter from the (well-organized, neat-freak, immaculate) recesses of my lovely San Francisco Bay Area studio.
Once my lighting director and I began experimenting, however, I realized that working in a manual setting is a blast--it challenges me to see in deeper, more nuanced ways, allows me to exercise more control over my photography, and provides increased consistency with my images.
It's also easy. The digital camera exposure viewing capability coupled with the histogram allows me to take test shots, make adjustments, and modify my exposure using a basic conversion chart.
Although I don't rely exclusively on manual, folding it into my repertoire has expanded my skill set. I feel more confident and empowered as a photographer.
Considering making the great leap to manual settings?
See my forthcoming Lighting Journey blog that provides some hot tips for photographers old and new, released next Wednesday, July 14.
1) Sleek, glamorous uptown Manhattanites convening in the quaint, wine-country town of Yountville, CA (where there's not even a gas station).
2) The bride Alyssa's stunning "Eleanor" Fall 2010 Vera Wang wedding gown: "Strapless drop-waist full A-line gown with feathered tulle flower embroidery, and re-embroidered buttons on back bodice."
3) Despite being super-hip New Yorkers, the guests defied stereotypes with their warmth and generosity.
4) The groom Brett and his three, almost-grown-up sons were open and loving with one another. It's obvious that this father treasures his family, and even more obvious that his sons admire and adore Brett.
5) Legs,
legs, legs. I joked with Alyssa that a requisite for being on their
guest list must have been, well, being gorgeous. (My boyfriend Ryan
attended the wedding with me and was delighted by the attractive, toned
company--I had to play-punch him in the arm a few times.)
6) All-around accomplished bride who is an every-angle amazing human being. I mean, it's not just any woman who can pull off a heart of gold, to-die-for bone structure, fine taste, and an appointment to the Board of Visitors of the Duke Engineering School.
7) Rehearsal
dinner speeches that begin not with a groom's roast, but rather a
grateful acknowledgement of the powerhouse wedding coordinator Cay
Lemon and the photographer.
8) Cay Lemon is a red-headed dynamo with superb managerial skills and a soothing demeanor--meaning, she carried out her job duties to the letter, while still keeping the vibe relaxed and celebratory. Not an easy job. I was so struck by Cay's uniqueness, that I even did an impromptu, mini photo shoot with her! (Images to come!)
9) The
apple doesn't fall far from the tree. The groom, groom's father, and
groom's three sons all exhibit a strong patrilineal trait: being
ladies' men. These guys exude irrepressible,
make-you-weak-in-the-knees, epic charm.
10) Wedding-photographer
referrals! Alyssa and Brett came to me based on the recommendation of
my previous clients, the delightful Keisha and Troy.
*For a full-blown treat, please visit the couple's
Coordinator: Cay Lemon with Zest Productions
Photography: Catherine Hall with Catherine Hall Studios
Location: Villagio
Cupcakes: Sift: a Cupcakery
Officiant: Reverend Peadar Dalton with Your Ceremony Matters
Designer: Julie Stevens with Julie Stevens Design
Hair & Makeup: Betten Chaston with Betten Make-Up & Hair
Lighting: BluePrint Studios & Got Light
In the wedding-photography industry, the use of natural lighting is the norm. I'm interested in changing that.
By incorporating artificial lighting techniques into my repertoire, I am able to share with my clients the gift of visual depth, saturation, and drama--something I couldn't always otherwise achieve if I weren't getting cozy with strobe.
Given my all-over-the-place, a-hundred-miles-a-minute schedule, it's been challenging to carve out time to sit down and learn how to use new lighting tools. That's where the hire of a Lighting Director re-focused and re-directed my photography career.
When on-site at a photo shoot, adrenaline floods my body. My work day is marked by a sense of intensity, urgency, and hyper-vision (and, obviously, pleasure from doing the thing that I love most). Working with artificial light only ups the ante.
Despite all of the test shoots leading up to my first use of strobe out in-the-field, when the big day came around, I was a nervous wreck. A total contrast to my typical California-girl cool.
My nervousness translated into clumsiness. During my first round of shots for a new corporate client, I completely forgot that my lighting director synced my camera to fire the strobes--resulting in overexposed, barely recoverable images. I felt heart-racing panic. (My emotional state wasn't helped by the artistic director who was breathing down my neck, watching my every move.)
Yet as a Bikram yoga devotee of three years, I've developed a knack for breathing through fear and intensity. For those of you unfamiliar with Bikram, just imagine you're in a room heated to 100+ degrees, contorting your body into positions with names like camel and cricket. Now, imagine you're in this scenario and somehow achieving a meditative head-space. This is the practice of yoga.
With measured inhalations and exhalations, I summoned my resolve and returned to the moment--the most important thing was my client, and focusing on my own fear wasn't helping them. I asked my lighting director to give me a meter reading and returned to the fray.
My next images? Total Rembrandt. The results were rich with texture and depth--dare I say, jaw-dropping?
It turns out that using lighting in the field makes my experience as a photographer more dynamic--rather than relying on old tricks, I'm stimulated by the synthesis of new techniques into my skill set. Not to mention that my clients receive images with a quality that exceeds their expectations.
What a great response to my giveaway offer--thank you to everybody who participated in the contest. In order to win a free Lowepro Stealth Reporter D650 AW shoulder bag, I asked folks to craft a striking, vivid description of their favorite photograph of all time.
Wow, you people are writers! What lush, evocative descriptions--not to mention tastefully chosen images. Some of my favorite comments included:
Trey Ratcliff's stunning "An Icelandic Horse in the Wild" leaves John Martin awe-struck. Shawn Reeder described "In the Early Light," focusing on the joy of finding the perfect vista on Shuteye Ridge. Andy Macpherson finds inspiration in "Lunch Atop a Skyscraper," by Charles Ebbets. A wedding image by Joe Buissink wows Bryn Clark. VeroG, Dave Krepps, William, and Alicia Sisk all chose to describe images by--well--moi! Thanks, guys.
As difficult as it was to choose, I narrowed down my favorite entry to Darren Su's. His intimate description evokes the cultural and historical nostalgia of family. Please see Darren's winning entry and the accompanying image below:
I never met my grandfather, because he died just a few years after taking this amazing color photo of my mom and grandmother in 1949. These are two of the most precious people in the world to me, and here they are in their youth sharing a truly magical and wonderful moment surrounded by brilliant color and light so many years ago. My grandfather's award winning photographs are like a window in time. They have been a huge source of inspiration for me as a photographer.
Art, like love, like business, is about risk. We risk that our work will fail. We risk that no one but us will like it, and then even we ourselves are bound to be overly critical. We risk that we'll never be the genius we wish we were in a culture that seems only to honour the very few extraordinarily talented ones (whatever that means), or the ones who market themselves best as such. When we could have taken a so-called real job instead, we risk not making enough to make ends meet each month. We risk rejection from the critics and our peers, or even worse - indifference. We risk disappointing those closest to us.
Or we don't. We have a choice; the alternative is to risk nothing, remain safe, and create art - or run a business - that comes not from a place of vulnerability and transparency, or a place that's truly, uniquely ourselves, but from the surface. We might even do well commercially, creating from this space (afterall, there's plenty of money in creating crap) - but even if it rises above the mediocre it will never, ever - and this is the point - say the thing our soul has been wanting to say. We will always be dissatisifed.
Art is about risk. Anyone that tells you otherwise is a fraud. It's not easy; it's hard, and it's risky.
But so is everything else. Because really, this is about your perception. It's about feeling that something is risky, and that feeling keeps you from doing it. We feel secure in our 9-5 cubicle job, while the idea of forging out on our own scares us because it feels insecure. But why? Are you sure the monkey at the top of Cubicles Inc. knows how to run a better company than you? He might, he might not. But are you sure? Are you sure the markets are stable? Are you sure that job, that pension plan, that <insert name of your favourite safety blanket here> is as secure as you think it is? And what of the risk of failure? Again, it's about perception. We all fear failing publicly, creating something that's not critically acclaimed, even if the critics are morons. But what about the fear of a life fully lived? What about the fear of never seeing your work realized, your ideas fleshed out, your words unsaid and images unmade? Isn't playing it safe even riskier?
A few weeks I wrote a couple articles about beginning the work. This taps that theme. What's holding you back from creating the work you truly want to create? Your market? Your peers? Your blog readers, your fans or Twitter followers? Your spouse? I know it'll feel like a risk to step out into a space where you can create boldly, and fail more boldly still on your way to making your art. The question isn't, Should I risk? Of course you should! But we're already risking. The question is, Which risk should you take? Which risk scares you more - the risk of failing, of thrashing about creating a bunch of crappy images on your way to creating something great? Or the risk of doing nothing, watching your ideas gather dust while the images in your mind go unexpressed, unmade, as your life passes.
Life is short. You can take this little sermon or you can leave it, but the longer I live and look around at the people who've carved out for themselves a unique life in business or art, or any field of endeavor for that matter, they've all of them done so while risking. They've failed, they've learned, and they've tried again. Some of us have failed personally in embarrassing ways, and we've gone bankrupt, and I'm not suggesting you take that route, but where it counts - where it really counts - to get where you most want to go involves risk. If it didn't you'd already be there. Some of us will take that risk, some will shy away from it. The people on the shore always outnumber the ones willing to brave the water. And they almost always desperately wish they had the courage to take that first step. There's no guarantee of success, even if we risk it all, but there's no surer way to failure than not trying.
Please note, I'm not talking about stupid risk. I'm not telling you to put a new Hasselblad on the credit card. In fact, that will only make risking where it really counts that much harder. Clear your debt, live within your means, and you'll have one less reason not to risk, to do that personal project, to fund that gallery show, to set time aside to finally put that photo book together. I'm talking about the risks that are much harder to commit to, the ones that keep us from getting down to creating something potentially great, true, and unique.
We've so much to gain; the creative life is so rewarding if you'll take the risks. Who's in?
*A version of this article first appeared at: http://www.pixelatedimage.com/blog/2010/06/art-and-risk

This is my opportunity to extend a grateful thank you to Bay Photo Lab, without whose
support, a new chapter in my artistic career wouldn't be possible.
Creative impulse becomes art only within the context of an
integrated community. This includes artists, their subjects and assistants,
equipment producers and providers, and those who transform raw material into
fresh mediums--Bay Photo is doing just that for the Catherine Hall Studios'
world premier of eight, large-scale metal prints.
I will feature these luminescent images at this year's
Burning Man, which takes place this September. Metal printing is an innovative
technology in which coated-aluminum sheets are infused with dye, resulting in a
color-saturated image with a tasteful metallic sheen.
Bay Photo is a metal-print industry leader, and I am humbled
and thankful by their commitment to the photo-arts community.
From the ceremonial burning of a forty-foot tall statue to an exact-replica Spanish galleon ship that glides across the desert sand on wheels, Burning Man is the ultimate cultural experience. And after attending three previous Burning Man gatherings and erecting small photography exhibitions, I'm thrilled to finally contribute my own voice to the eclectic, dissonant chorus of artists attending the event.
Calling all photography aficionados! I am super excited to giveaway my brand new FREE Lowepro Stealth Reporter D650 AW to you!
This top-of-the-line, $200-value equipment bag is perfect for slinging over one shoulder before entering the fray--whether that be taking pictures on a wildlife safari, at your best friend's beach-side wedding, or going cloak-and-dagger in the boys' locker room.
How will we determine the winner of this Lowepro equipment bag? Easy.
All you have to do is leave a comment about one of your favorite photographs on this blog post.
- What is the title of the picture?
- Who is the photographer?
- How does the image speak to you?
- Please provide a link to the image.
We will select the winner based upon the comment that demonstrates the most imagination and creativity. So get cracking!
(Image of Lawrence Chan courtesy of Greg Bumatay)
In this day and age where life flickers in 140 characters or less, chances are no one is going to read your blog posts...or mine.
Additionally, many social media mediums - such as Twitter - may not
have metrics installed to monitor the effectiveness of a mention. Thus,
links to blog posts or websites are helpful. The following are some
tips on making effective blog post titles!
1. Content is king - make sure that your content is catered for your target audience. Sometimes I write the content first, then come up with a catchy title afterward, but that's not always suggested.
2. Solve a problem, give advice, provide value - if the post brings relevance to an issue faced by your readers, then it will be many more times compelling. A snappy title of such would start like "How To..."
3. Lists - this blog post title is an example, "8 Ways To Write Effective Blog Post Titles". When there is a list, such as "Top 10 Ways To..." there is structure. No one is in for a surprise.
When readers find it an achievable goal, they can see the light at the end of the tunnel before even trekking down it. My previous blog post regarding "4 Reasons Why The Wedding Industry Is Changing" is another example.
4. Keep it simple and direct - get to the point with adequate information (avoid being flowery, poetic, creative or cryptic). For good examples, visit your local mall and see how stores get your attention in short spurts - "Entire Store 40% Off"
5. Make comparisons - readers always enjoy reading different perspectives on what the writer perceives as "better" or "best." For example, my post on "Blogging vs. Twitter vs. Facebook".
6. Do not oversell - if the content does not reflect the title (even if compelling), then readers are very likely to defect and potentially never to return, unsubscribe from a mailing list, unfollow on Twitter and unsubscribe from Facebook.
7. Personalize it - let your personal flair shine through (i.e.: Jane and Jack are Like Rabbits - Carrot Themed Wedding) rather than using conventional titles (i.e.: Wedding: Jane and Jack).
8. Powerful words (mostly adjectives) - use words such as secrets, free, easy, sexy, and handy are always catchy for readers. Watch some late night infomercials!
**Content originally published on Tofurious.com at http://tinyurl.com/239y93p
The wedding season is officially in full-swing: Bachelorette and bachelor parties are roaring, wedding coordinators are in a tizzy of last-minute planning, and photographers are anticipating a bevy of once-in-a-lifetime moments to capture on film.
The beauty, harmony, and joyous celebration that accompany wedding ceremonies inspire me to create the highest caliber of images possible.
I'm particularly fascinated by wedding locations. Location reflects a couple's values and aesthetic ideals. Whether they select a quaint cottage nestled in a redwood forest, an ornate villa on a remote shorefront, or a red-brick Methodist church, their choice of a wedding environment communicates a message to their community of family and friends.
Last year, Courtney's and Johnny's selection of the Fairmont Sonoma Mission Inn for their wedding ceremony spoke to me on a deep level. The overall experience distinctively and authentically bespoke Northern California's wine country. From a rehearsal dinner in a wine cellar that was embedded in a hillside to an outdoor cocktail hour surrounded by the rich, warm color palette of Sonoma Valley, Courtney and Johnny's wedding location was at once sumptuous, earthy, and refined.
