About Hub's Visionary Photographers...

To the followers of my other photo blogs, you'll find this refreshing and enlightening. Everything is still free. No membership fees, no advertisements and no pop ups to distract you. Best of all, you will not be forced to endure my ramblings. Instead I'm your eager Photo Concierge introducing you to some of the finest creative minds and artists in today's photographic community. You will find insights to inspire and stimulate your photographic passion as well as providing a brief glimpse into the thoughts of our most gifted photographic professionals. Click here to see our press release.

My sincere thanks to each contributing photographer, educator and author for fanning the flame of photographic creativity and helping to enhance the craft of those who hold you as their heroes.
You are today's pioneers into the new world of digital photography and digital imaging.

To my readers: Be sure to follow the links provided by our contributing photographers and authors to learn more about them and view their on-line portfolios/galleries.

"Hub's Visionary Photographers" is a non-commercial educational service of Hubbard Camera LLC.

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Thursday, October 2, 2008

"On knowing when and where..." by Joel Meyerowitz

Having the pleasure know and work with Joel Meyerowitz during my years at Time-Life and since has been inspirational. Joel's fame is much deserved and derived from his sensitivity to the world around him, his unique perspective, his passion for life and his ever present openness. I am truly honored to call Joel my friend. You can personally experience Joel's work in museums and exhibitions around the world.

Joel Meyerowitz is an award-winning photographer whose work has appeared in over 350 exhibitions in museums and galleries around the world. He was born in New York in 1938. He began photographing in 1962. He is a “street photographer” in the tradition of Henri Cartier-Bresson and Robert Frank, although he works exclusively in color. As an early advocate of color photography (mid-60’s), Meyerowitz was instrumental in changing the attitude toward the use of color photography from one of resistance to nearly universal acceptance. His first book, Cape Light, is considered a classic work of color photography and has sold more than 100,000 copies during its 25-year life. He is the author of 15 other books, including Aftermath: The World Trade Center Archive, Bystander: The History of Street Photography, and Tuscany: Inside the Light. Click here for Joel's complete biography.



1966 Malaga, Spain, copyright Joel Meyerowitz

I'm often asked how I know when and what to shoot. You feel it out. It's like walking on ice. You have to feel your way and use your intuition.

For me, I know when I'm there. Simple human terms are the motivation and the response. It's like conversation. When you go to a party and you talk to somebody, you may at first stand at a social distance, or, if there's some opening from that person, and you feel connected, you may get slightly closer and speak in a more intimate way. Or if you dance with someone, you may dance close or you may dance at a social distance. You feel it out. That's what it's like when I'm photographing, I move in and out as I get called into what's happening and I try and find the right relationship to it, of course this is all happening in an instantaneous way. After all the camera has a thousandth of a second on it which means we can react and relate in those minute fragments of time. One learns to live in those here and now and then vanished moments.

It's all about seeing the things only YOU can see. After all you see everything every day, and most of it seems boring, right? But then, every once in a while you see something and it makes you have a little 'gasp', isn't that so? Just a little intake of your breath when you are startled by that small thing, or that brief moment when something in the world says, "look at me, pay attention to ME!" Well, that's it! That's when you take the picture and when you have done that for a while you will have lots of picture that will look only like pictures that you can see, and not like anyone else's pictures. And that's the secret. there are no rules to follow, there is only your 'instinct'.

Wherever I go, the camera is on my shoulder, and it's been like that for more than forty years. I am just there trying to be present and conscious. And at some given moment I sense that I've walked into a zone of energy that awakens me. I suddenly lose my forward momentum. There's no reason to go forward. It's not something I eyeball. It's not a bunch of red flowers, or an obvious object, it's some thing that's giving off energy. It's a force field that I enter and in it there are relationships that come together in a way that strikes me as meaningful .

Sometimes for example, when you walk on the streets of New York, and you walk under construction scaffolding, you step out of the daylight and into the shadow, and as you pass that place where the door leads into the site you smell the presence of wet concrete, of acetylene torches, and the dust of construction. It's a very palpable, powerful smell. You step under the scaffolding and there's nothing; you hit the door and there's a smell of everything; and then you take one more step and there's nothing again. You've left the zone. All that's happened is that a current of air has rushed across the path that you're on. Photography is like that; a sliver of sensation that becomes visible in some way and then is gone, but when you were in it it was total.

I don't mean to be mystical, but when I hit that space I say, "Whoa, something is here. What's here?" The first thing that's there is me. I take the opportunity to see what it is that's defining me. And every time I do that I make a picture that has some special meaning to me. When I look at them afterwords, I know I was in the right place and the right time. I use that beat to allow it to come into being, to stop myself from pushing through it. Because the easiest thing is to be blind, and to keep right on rolling until you get to someplace that's a familiar, observable reality. But this is not only about an observable reality; it's a sensory reality. I trust that now, more than any other form of approach.

My central premise as an artist is to connect to my own feelings, and by so doing, when I'm really close to them, I may be able to make something that transports people back to the experience through the openness of the photograph. That's what I do, I try and disappear and let the image do the work of transmitting the experience. I've come to understand this over 40+ years of shooting, that the heart of my work is conveying what I felt while I was briefly awakened by the moment. These 'glimpses' of reality are powerful calls to consciousness.

-- Joel Meyerowitz

Click here to be magically transported to Joel's website. Joel also maintains an online store where you can purchase his works and books. Definitely a must see and a "must collect".
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Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Always On The Lookout by Harald Johnson

Hub's note: Harald Johnson is a good friend whose contributions as one of the first authors to tackle the topic of digital imaging and printing have paved the way in educating amateurs and pros alike. Harald's "Mastering Digital Printing: Second Edition" is still considered the reference for digital printing for photography and fine art. Harald also consults with companies such as HP about photography and imaging. We are fortunate to include Harald as a respected author among the Visionaries of Photography. Click here for Harald Johnson's profile.

First, my congratulations to Tom for his exciting new blogs that educate and inspire photographers of all levels. I instantly said Yes when Tom approached me about this new blog with its theme of creativity and reflection. I may not be as visionary as others, but my photography has been a constant to me over the past decades, not only as a photographer but also as a creative/art director, designer, and author. So if I can share some of my excitement for photography with you, I’m glad to join in.


Pelican Salute, © Harald Johnson
Nikonos II, 35mm lens, Fuji Velvia 100 then scanned


I spent a winter in South Florida a few years ago, and one of my favorite places to go was Jupiter Beach Park at the Jupiter Inlet. This is an area just north of Palm Beach on Florida's bulging Atlantic side, where they say the Gulf Stream comes the closest to land. It's a great spot for surfing, beachcombing, or watching the boats as they navigate the tricky tides to leave or enter the inlet. Which makes it a great location for photography.

On this particular day, I noticed from the beach that there were no fishermen at the end of the short stone jetty that brackets the inlet opening. Always on the lookout for a self-assignment photo opportunity, I grabbed the Nikonos underwater 35mm film camera I always carried with me back then (I now use an Olympus Stylus 770SW underwater digital), put on my flip-flops (to protect my feet from loose fish hooks), and headed out to see what was going on. 
It didn't take me long to discover why I was virtually alone.

A major winter storm had passed through the area the day before, and although the air was still, and the sky was clear and blue, the remnants of the storm's energy could clearly be seen in the form of gigantic waves that were pounding the end of the jetty. These monsters were only visible as humps in the open water, but as they encountered the leading edge of the jetty's boulders that sat in shallower water, the waves peaked up and then exploded onto the jetty, shooting foam and spray 20 feet or more in the air. The waves were so powerful that, even though the jetty was made of solid granite blocks, it shuddered as each successive wave hit. 



I was in awe of this display, and within minutes, was completely drenched from the spray. Luckily, my camera was waterproof, so I positioned myself on the leeward side of the jetty's walkway, and started taking pictures with the 35mm slightly-wide-angle lens that I knew would take in all the action where I had no room to back up. 

I tried to time each wave's apex, and in that frozen moment, I found myself looking into a deep green sheet of suspended water that radiated an eery calmness. I was intoxicated by it, and I had to catch myself more than once from reaching out to the deceptive beauty of that water mass, which, if I had done so, could have easily swept me off my feet. 


I was happy, clicking away with my camera, and smiling at the one or two other adventurous souls who would cautiously join me for a moment before shaking their heads and scurrying away to safety. Then, the most amazing thing happened. I had looked down to see that my camera was on its last frame: #36. When I raised my head again, a lone pelican was just landing on the guard railing directly in front of me. There were no other birds--no other animals of any type--to be seen, but here sat this beautiful pelican, eyeing me. He was motionless and as peaceful as he could be, seemingly oblivious to the fury and the danger that was boiling only a few feet from where he sat. He was looking right at me, appearing to ask, "Well, are you just going to stand there, or are you going to take my picture?" 



Just as I raised my camera to take that last photo, he raised his wings in a kind of pelican salute, and I snapped the shot. He then immediately took flight just before the biggest wave of the day crashed down and completely buried the railing he was sitting on. That wave also swamped me, and it was only because I was able to grab hold of the guard railing that I was not catapulted onto the jagged boulders below. 



After I processed the slide film and digitized it, I knew immediately that I had to make an artistic collage showing some of the waves of that day, and ending it all with that magnificent pelican, just as he was, in that magical moment in time.

(To see a quick slide show of these four images in sequence, click here.)



I’ve since printed, published, and sold or donated the image (both the solo and the composite) to beach and nature lovers all over. And I always try to include the story of that day.

My website: www.dpandi.com

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The Road To Elysium by Wayne J. Cosshall

Welcome to Wayne J. Cosshall - A friend and Visionary Photographer

"I’ve been around photography a very long time (35 years) and digital imaging all my adult life. I received my first camera at 14 to put on the telescopes I loved. From there my photography gradually came down to earth and I started shooting many other subjects. I started working in the darkroom at 16. I also painted. At university I did a computer science undergraduate degree and got into computer graphics in 1978. From then on I had two strong imaging passions: photography and the digital image, along with my other big passion, teaching." Click here to learn more about Wayne, his passion for photography and his art.


“Road to Elysium”, copyright Wayne J. Cosshall
Mainly shot with a Canon 400D and assembled in Adobe Photoshop


I am, among other things, a fine art photographer. Because I philosophically see all of photography as a great manipulation, from the choice of framing, depth of field and color range I want to the most complex of darkroom or computer manipulations, I tend to not hold the image as sacrosanct. So there are times I will happily work with the single image and indeed purely in camera work, and yet at other I will create a work from multiple images. It is one of these I wish to discuss here.

The idea for “Road to Elysium” came over a period of time. At one time I would have said the idea came while watching the movie Gladiator, and specifically the scene at the end of the movie where the main character is walking through the wheat fields. But with reflection this was merely the final trigger. I had been exploring Greco-Roman religious beliefs for some time and also considering spiritual path choices as part of a book I was writing. The movie merely brought all this together by proving the link that tied it all together.

So now I had the integrated idea. I developed this into a full description of the piece. I won’t bore you with the whole thing, but the core elements are a piece that shows, when it comes to spiritual choice, that there is usually more than one path to the destination. Additional elements drew from concepts such as the left and right-handed path spoken of in the Western esoteric tradition, the symbolism tied up with wheat, the sacredness of the tree in systems from Norse legend to the Jewish Kabbalah, and ideas of the underworld, to name but some.

From this came a shot list, which is something I work with often. This was a list of the elements I needed images of. I needed:
  • Shots of wheat at various scales and lighting
  • At least two high walls with doors in them
  • One door must be closed, the other open or see through in some way
  • A tree that either sat on a wall or could be worked onto one
  • Various sky images
  • A trap door, stairs downwards or such
  • Various small plants
  • Gravel at different scales
  • A bench of some sort
Some elements I could provide from my library of images but the bulk I decided to shoot fresh. So I then started scouting locations and whenever I was out shooting for some other task I kept in mind what I needed. The wheat proved the most time consuming, because it was not the right season. So it took me close on six months to collect what I needed for this piece.

Once I felt I had enough of the pieces I started putting them together in Photoshop. I created a blank image and carefully placed guides following the mathematical principle of the Golden Section (very appropriate given the subject matter). I then opened all the chosen images and started dragging them into separate layers. Much work was done with layer masks and some distortion. For example the tree the wall sits on was straight. I created the bends in Photoshop. Lighting was created, as I had been careful to shoot as much as possible is flat light so I could introduce the lighting I wanted.

The resulting image ended up very close to what I had previsualized. A few elements had evolved in their own direction, such as the look of the tree, but the bulk was as I had seen it. With an image created like this it can be hard to know when to stop. In this case because I had my image description, I could and did compare the image with the description and chose to stop when I had covered all the elements to my satisfaction.

This image formed the first and namesake of a series of work that I have not yet finished. It has evolved into a strange mix of semi-autobiographical narrative and semi-exposition on the spiritual life. I am still happy with this image and would not do further work on it, at least not now. It feels complete. This style of working represents one of the ways I work. But only one. They are all valid.

Website: www.dimagemaker.com
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