Photography – WAYOFF

The Observers Effect in Indonesia.

WAYOFFprod — Thu, 05 Oct 2017 10:00:46 +0000

There are two types of travel pictures. The ones that are supposed to be pretty and the ones that say, “I’ve been there.” The first type is pretty self-explanatory, but the latter, for people who aren’t sure what I’m talking about, they are the same with the exception of your sunburnt self, awkwardly standing in the center, squinting at the camera. When you put someone in the way of the subject, he becomes the subject and unless you travel with models that person will be very aware of the camera and it will show. So do we really need to put ourselves in our travel pictures?

If you look back at all my travel pictures, you won’t find many people in them, and if there are, they are not looking at the lens. Strangely enough animals get to look at my lens, probably because they have no idea what a camera is and therefore their reaction feels genuine. Put a camera in someone’s face and you’ll have a handful of reactions. Some will grab the opportunity to pose, others might shy away and some will just be sick of your constant paparaziing. None of these reactions would have happened without a camera pointing at them, and this bothers me. In science this effect has a name. They call that the observers effect. While it’s probably not the context they meant it for, it’s the idea that observing something alters its state.

I’m not saying travel pictures of people don’t have their place in this world. I don’t even dislike them, but when it comes to my picture I don’t want to tell people how to pose in them, so I just avoid it.(or sneak a picture without them noticing) However, I do find one exception/solution to that: selfies. Yes, the act of taking a picture of yourself and no, I do not mean the ones in your bathroom showing that new bikini or your post-workout abs (or both, let’s not make gender assumptions). There is something different about selfies. The photographer isn’t observing anymore. He’s right in the action and owning up to it. No one pretending the camera isn’t here, no one is fooling anyone. The awkwardness, poseyness, anger becomes part of the picture.

A good summary for that blurb of text would be that I look for authenticity in pictures. For the picture to fits its purpose. As much as some people like to hate on selfies and how “it portrays the decay of our self-absorbed society!” I think it’s one of the greater additions to photography and a good and more intimate replacement to that age-old, posing in front of the camera type picture.

PS:. you may notice I don’t take many selfies. This is partly due to the fact that my lenses don’t autofocus and it’s not a light camera, and just because I like them it doesn’t mean I have to take them.

Diminishing Return of Details in South East Asia.

Raphael Baumann — Thu, 28 Sep 2017 08:00:15 +0000

Back in 2015 I went on my first backpacking trip in South-East Asia. Three weeks one bag pack. I’ll spare you the details of what I packed, but even with the limited space and the unknown that I was going to face, I made the decision to bring along multiple prime lenses and their creamy soft look, giving up on flexibility and compactness of a zoom lens. This decision was about giving up on versatility and practicality for a very small improvement in quality. This got me thinking about the importance of details and if they are worth the complexity I’m adding to this trip.

When I look at the same picture taken with one of my prime lenses and one of my zoom lenses, I can distinguish them straight away. However when a friend shows me with pride his overly contrasted and sharpen photo taken with his smartphone, it makes me realize that I have trained my eyes to see the difference and most people wouldn’t be able to tell them appart.

I am not tring to brag nor is it a criticism on my friends lack of visual capacity, but it is of a realization that I might have become that dude who only listens to none compressed audio because “mp3s sound like shit” or this other friend that can taste these mystical flavors in wine when most of us taste sour or bitter wine.

It is a strange phenomenon where the more you gets into something, the more demanding you become towards it. It’s a one way street. From now on you will always notice the compression in the audio, the moiré in the video or the noise in the picture. Things you might have been oblivious to a few years back but now it’s all you see. You become more picky and from now on you’ll need the more expensive stuff.

It seems to be inevitable. If you enjoy something, you’ll be looking for something more. You’ll sharpen your senses to the details whether you are a creator or a consumer of said product. But as a creator I find myself facing a dilemma. All these finer details the 99% won’t notice, are they worth bringing along heavier lenses for that sweet bokeh, finding that special casks to let your whisky mature or spending that extra hour tweaking that sound to perfection? Are they worth the extra effort/cost?

I think everybody has their own answer to this, but over the past few years I have solidified this belief that even though I make things for other people I need to be proud of what I do and therefore if I can spot the difference it is worth going the extra mile and bringing the nicer but bulkier lenses. In addition, even if your friends don’t notice, it doesn’t mean they don’t feel it. There isn’t much difference between being able to recognize the softness of the lens and appreciating the vibe of the picture. This may mean the same thing coming from people with varying photography experience. Details are important because it’s what brings it all together and just because people can’t put their finger on them, it doesn’t mean they can’t appreciate it.

Cairo Constraints

Raphael Baumann — Sat, 18 Feb 2017 13:45:03 +0000

I got to Cairo with high ambitions. It was the first trip I was on with my awesome video camera and a 35 mm adaptor. These adaptor were the shit for the two years between full HD camcorder and video DSLR. For those who don’t know what 35 mm adaptors were, picture a huge contraption on front of your camera with a DSLR lens mount and inside some optical magic that recreates the 35 mm “look”. By look I mean that blurry background. But anyways, there I was with my awkward looking gear ready to capture the city.

Turns out an unusually long camera with a 50 mm zoom, enhanced by some crazy crop factor and no tripod does not make for some stable videos. Very quickly I became conscious of the shortcoming of my setup. Videos were not going to be a thing. As I had no backup plans, I carried on filming but to avoid coming home empty-handed, I used the photo function of my video camera. While the camera was not made for photography, it could take pictures. Shakiness would be less of a problem and taking stills tend to be more forgiving in general.

While it didn’t make my setup anymore ideal, I’ve managed to take pictures that I still like to this day. Would I have taken better pictures if I had the best DSLR at the time? Probably not! Putting aside the fact that this particular setup does have a pleasing look, I think constraints might have had its part in it. The general perception of rules and limits is that they are burdens that cripples your creativity. But as psychological studies have found, choice is not always a positive thing. There is such a thing as too much choice. Choice can be distracting or even overwhelming. Not having the option to change lenses and having to improvise with this long unbalanced barrel of a camera, made me realize that I am creating a unique interpretation of Cairo.

Because let’s be honest, no one would have ever thought of bringing that to the pyramids.