Fine-art, travel, urban and landcape photography | Ian Mylam Photography: slideshow photograph 1
Fine-art, travel, urban and landcape photography | Ian Mylam Photography: slideshow photograph 2
Fine-art, travel, urban and landcape photography | Ian Mylam Photography: slideshow photograph 3
Fine-art, travel, urban and landcape photography | Ian Mylam Photography: slideshow photograph 4
Fine-art, travel, urban and landcape photography | Ian Mylam Photography: slideshow photograph 5

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Flirting with the Grim Reaper in India’s Garden City

Last week, I spent a short time in the Indian metropolis of Bangalore, also known as the Garden City of India on account of its numerous gardens and parks. Bangalore is well known as a centre for India’s information-technology sector – it is also called the Silicon Valley of India – and is the third-most populated city in the country. In other words, it’s huge. I had a few hours to kill, so I decided to head out with my camera and see what I could find.

The fun started with an auto-rickshaw ride into the city centre. I use the word ‘fun’ loosely, because it was actually pretty terrifying. I am a regular traveller in India, and have become fairly used to the hair-raising driving of auto-rickshaw drivers, and of Indian traffic in general, but this guy was in a suicidal class of his own…

Inside the Indian Death Chariot (©2012 Ian Mylam)

Inside the Indian Death Chariot. Nikon 17-35mm f/2.8 @ 17mm, 0.4 sec, f/20, ISO 200

The mid-afternoon light was still very strong, and the contrast between the light levels inside and outside this death-chariot on wheels was too high for the camera sensor to capture both the interior of the cab and the hard world of metal and concrete outside (frequently passing mere inches from my soft and unprotected body) without either blown highlights or blocked-up shadows. So to make this shot, I used a Justin Clamp – or to give it its full title, a Bogen-Manfrotto 175F Spring Clamp – to fix a Nikon Speedlight to the interior of the rickshaw, and triggered it wirelessly with the pop-up flash on my Nikon D700 camera. I also dragged the shutter, which, together with rear-curtain flash sync, enabled me to capture a core of well-exposed sharpness inside the tuk-tuk to contrast with the scary motion blur of India speeding past outside, and allowed me to beat the high dynamic range of the scene into submission.  My left knee is visible at the bottom of the frame; any knee-shake visible is due to vehicle vibration only – nerves had absolutely nothing to do with it ;)

I only had about three hours free for photography, so before leaving the hotel I had asked the hotel concierge for some advice about where to go in Bangalore in order to make the most of my limited shooting time.  I asked him to direct me to a traditional area, away from the Western shopping malls and modern buildings.  He assured me that he understood what I was hoping to find, and sent me to Malleswaram, in the North West of the city, which unfortunately turned out to be not at all what I was looking for: relatively modern, soulless and simply not inspiring for me photographically at all. I spent around an hour wandering around before deciding to cut my losses and move on as dusk was rapidly approaching. I took some more advice, and and headed to another quarter of the city, Shivaji Nagar. This turned out to be far more interesting, with a bustling market for meat, vegetables and fruit amongst other things, and some narrow residential lanes.  I spent a happy couple of hours here from late afternoon until after dusk.

I wandered through the residential area, chatting to the very friendly and welcoming people I met there.  Friendly and welcoming apart from the dogs, that is.  This dog was as mean as it looked, and would undoubtedly have eaten me if it could. Luckily, it was chained up. I was extra polite to this lady to ensure it remained that way.

Bangalore, India (©2012 Ian Mylam)

Bangalore, India (©2012 Ian Mylam)

Bangalore, India (©2012 Ian Mylam)

Bangalore, India (©2012 Ian Mylam)

Bangalore, India (©2012 Ian Mylam)

Bangalore, India (©2012 Ian Mylam)

Bangalore, India (©2012 Ian Mylam)

Bangalore, India (©2012 Ian Mylam)

Bangalore, India (©2012 Ian Mylam)

Bangalore, India (©2012 Ian Mylam)

I left the residential area, and headed into the market, crossing a busy road on foot. Indian traffic works on the principle of reluctantly giving way to anything bigger than you, and involves much tooting of horns.  (Indeed, so many horns are tooted that it’s nigh on impossible to work out who is tooting whom, so it all becomes a bit meaningless, and appears to be more a mechanism for releasing pent-up emotion.)  As a pedestrian trying to cross the road, this ‘might is right’ principle is bad news.  I have realized through close observation of other pedestrians on numerous trips to India that the best strategy is to take a deep breath and walk at a steady pace across the road. If you vary your speed, stop, start or change direction, or start to jog or sprint in panic, you increase your chances of being hit considerably.  By crossing at a steady pace, the drivers of oncoming vehicles are very good at working out where you are going to be and swerving to miss you.  If it all becomes too much, it’s better to shut your eyes than to deviate from your course or pace.

Bangalore, India (©2012 Ian Mylam)

Bangalore, India (©2012 Ian Mylam)

By the time I reached the market, it was fully dark.  Just outside the market area was a guy selling melons from a cart.

Bangalore, India (©2012 Ian Mylam)

Bangalore, India (©2012 Ian Mylam)

Next, I came to the area of the market where meat was bought and sold.  This man was selling poultry.

Bangalore, India (©2012 Ian Mylam)

Bangalore, India (©2012 Ian Mylam)

The market was full of colour.  Invariably, the reception I received from the market vendors was very friendly and good-humoured, as is typically the case in India.

Bangalore, India (©2012 Ian Mylam)

Bangalore, India (©2012 Ian Mylam)

Bangalore, India (©2012 Ian Mylam)

Bangalore, India (©2012 Ian Mylam)

Bangalore, India (©2012 Ian Mylam)

Bangalore, India (©2012 Ian Mylam)

Bangalore, India (©2012 Ian Mylam)

Bangalore, India (©2012 Ian Mylam)

I cheated death again with another auto-rickshaw ride back to my hotel.  Slower than the earlier ride, but owing to the darkness and numerous animals running into the road, almost as terrifying. The best thing about making this shot was that setting it up took my mind off the ride for a good couple of minutes.

Bangalore, India (©2012 Ian Mylam)

The Ride Home. Nikon 17-35mm @ 17mm, 1/3 sec, f/2.8, ISO 200

Bangalore was a pleasant surprise.  Given its reputation as a high-tech hub, I wasn’t expecting to find photographic inspiration, particularly as I only had three hours to spare and hadn’t done any research before I arrived.  It turned out to be a lot of fun.

Airborne out of Beijing

Alongside my passion for photography, I fly aeroplanes to earn a living.  Like any job, it has its ups and downs (if you’ll pardon the pun); like any job, it is what you make of it.  Unsociable hours, night flights, time-zone changes, cumulative fatigue, and extended periods away from family and friends are the less appealing aspects of the job.  Flying a large jet into and out of interesting airports, experiencing new places and cultures, and opportunities to see, explore – and photograph – the world are the upsides.  And the views from the cockpit can be stunning, such as this view of the mountainous terrain close to Beijing, China, shortly after an evening take-off from Beijing International Airport. We departed on a northbound routing, up through the clouds and over the Great Wall of China, in time to enjoy this beautiful evening view.  The sun had already set on the ground in Beijing, but we were treated to a few more minutes of daylight as we rapidly gained altitude and turned west, chasing the setting sun.

Airborne out of Beijing ( © Ian Mylam)

Airborne out of Beijing ( © Ian Mylam)

 

Lightroom 4 – the new tone controls

Landscape photographer Michael Frye gives an excellent summary of the new tone controls in Adobe Lightroom 4 here.

 

Flashing the Sushi Chef (Raw Flash with my Raw Fish)

The Sushi Chef - Yokohama, Japan (© 2012 Ian Mylam)

The Sushi Chef - Yokohama, Japan (© 2012 Ian Mylam)

I am in Japan for three days this week, in the city of Yokohama, south of Tokyo in the Tokyo Bay area.   I found a wonderful sushi restaurant for dinner tonight – the sushi was expertly prepared by the chef in the photo here.  He only spoke a handful of English words, and unfortunately my Japanese is a level below that (i.e. it’s non-existent), but I was able to communicate non-verbally that I’d like to take his photograph and he kindly obliged me.

First, however, he wanted to inspect my camera.

Aah……     Nikon! …   Number One!” he said, eyes twinkling, clearly gratified that my camera was Japanese (I am pretty sure that Canon or any other Japanese make would have elicited the same joyful and humorous response), and gave me the thumbs-up sign.  We both grinned, and in the moment of connection facilitated by shared good humour, an element of the universal human language, I raised the camera quickly to my eye, focused, and triggered the shutter.

The interaction with the chef which led to this photograph lasted only two or three minutes, but was actually the culmination of some sustained prior rumination on my part (a rare and noteworthy event) over how to make this image while I was enjoying my sushi and an ice-cold Asahi beer, and before I even approached him for a photograph.  It’s a good example of the difference between ‘taking’ a photograph, and ‘making’ a photograph.  Regardless of your views on this photograph, this was definitely a photograph which was made – not taken.

Why did I make this photograph?

I was attracted both to his wonderful, lined face, which was full of character and good humour, and also to the wooden strip with Japanese characters on it running horizontally on the wall behind the kitchen area.  I thought this wooden strip would make a nice graphic background element for a portrait as well as helping to provide some contextual information.  Together, the wooden strip with Japanese writing and his face said “Japan” to me.  I envisaged forming a ‘T’ shape with the chef and the wooden strip juxtaposed so that his face was at the intersection of the lines of the ‘T’ – as you see in the picture above.  The picture you see here is more or less the picture I had in my mind’s eye when I conceived it perhaps twenty minutes before I shot it, and is the combination of the raw image captured by the camera and appropriate post-processing to fully align the raw capture with my vision for the photograph.

Exposure Strategy and Colour Temperature

It was pretty dark in the restaurant, so I guessed that I would need to blend some off-camera flash with the ambient light to get a decent (as opposed to a desperate) exposure.  Using flash would also allow me to control the exposure of my subject – the chef – independently of the background – and that is a good thing, as it offers more creative possibilities.  I was on my own, with no assistant, nor a stand to put the flash on, and no light modifiers – all I had in my camera bag was one naked SB-700 Speedlight and some coloured gels.   Probably a blessing, as I don’t know how well it would have gone down if I had started setting up strobes on light stands in the restaurant – so I simply placed the Speedlight on the counter to my right using the small plastic foot supplied with the flash, angled it towards his face, and gelled the flash with a full cut of CTO (‘Colour Temperature Orange’) gel to give me a better chance of blending the colour temperature of the flash with the ambient tungsten lighting.  My goal was to lose the flash as far as I could in the exposure – ‘flash by stealth’ in other words – I didn’t want a very obviously flash-exposed shot, as that would have killed the low-light mood of the environment.  The flash needed to slip unnoticed, like a thief, into the scene.

The Ambient-Light Exposure

I shot this in manual exposure mode, making a few test shots of the background before the chef re-appeared, as he would undoubtedly have wondered why I was photographing his kitchen wall.  I chose 1/60 sec. at f/4 and ISO 1000, which gave me around one stop of under-exposure for the ambient light reflected from the background.  I chose to deliberately under-expose the background relative to the metered exposure because I wanted to communicate the darkness of the restaurant and also saturate the green and orange colours of the wood and tiles behind the chef (under-exposed colours always appear richer and more saturated; over-exposure results in washed-out colours, which communicates a different mood).

Choice of Aperture

I selected an aperture of f/4 with the intention of giving me sufficient depth of field for his face while causing the Japanese characters on the wall to soften slightly.  Writing of any kind – even when unintelligible – draws the eye, and I wanted the characters to be recognisable to give contextual clues and allow them to provide an interesting graphic element in the background while simultaneously softening them sufficiently to prevent immediate visual competition with my subject, the chef.  The eye needs to be able to ‘rest’ on his face, in between moving around and exploring the rest of the frame, and that is facilitated by having the face as the sharpest element in the frame.  With the benefit of hindsight, I could have chosen an even wider aperture (e.g. f/2.8) to soften the characters further, as he was close enough to the wall behind that the characters are still fairly sharp – but I only had time to make a couple of frames as he was busy working and I didn’t want to take up any more of his time – he might have assaulted me with a dead tuna.

Selecting the Shutter Speed and ISO value

Having chosen my f-stop, I then chose my ISO and shutter speed to control the ambient-light exposure.  I wanted a shutter speed I could comfortably hand-hold without fear of camera shake blurring the ambient-lit background (slightly defocused Japanese characters in the background equals good; completely blurry Japanese characters equals bad).  The focal length for this image was around 50 mm, so 1/60 sec was a reasonable shutter speed to aim for with a hand-held exposure, particularly after a couple of beers.  ISO 1000 gave me a metered exposure of 1/30 sec. for the background – I therefore set 1/60 sec. in order to underexpose the background by one stop.  In terms of digital noise and high ISO, the sensor used in the Nikon D3 and D700 performs excellently up to ISO 3200 and beyond, so I was confident of obtaining an image with little digital noise at this ISO setting, provided that my exposure was correct.

The Flash Exposure

Having locked down the ambient-light exposure at -1EV relative to the metered exposure, I turned my attention to the flash exposure.  The off-camera flash used to illuminate the chef was triggered via wireless TTL using the pop-up flash on my D700 in commander mode with zero flash exposure compensation.  TTL, rather than manual, flash was the way forward for me here as I only expected to be able to make a couple of frames at most, and the advantage of TTL is that it puts you in the exposure ballpark from the word ‘go’.  Given time to play and refine the flash exposure, manual flash mode would also have been an option.  The flash was fairly close to the lens axis and was zoomed to 120 mm in order to minimise light spill on to the background.  It was punchy light rather than pretty light – but soft light just wouldn’t have been right for this face full of wonderful character.  Zero flash exposure compensation was just a starting point – but as I didn’t have the opportunity to make any more frames and refine the flash exposure, that was also the final flash exposure.  If I had been a little smarter, I might have boosted the flash exposure a little more right out of the gate.  Why?  The chef is wearing predominantly white clothing, and with the SB-700 Speedlight positioned only an arm’s length from the lens axis, the camera meter is seeing a lot of reflection from the predominantly frontally lit subject.  The camera’s brain responds to this brightness in TTL mode by reducing the flash exposure as it assumes the subject – the chef – is a mid-grey colour (meters always assume everything they see is mid-grey), and deduces he is therefore over-exposed.  However, unlike the camera meter, we know that he is wearing white, and a higher level of reflected light is therefore to be expected.  Had I been thinking more quickly, I might therefore have anticipated that the camera would slightly under-expose my flashed foreground subject, and I could have compensated for that by overriding the camera’s decision and boosted the flash exposure slightly before making my first frame.  Not an issue in the studio where you can iterate towards your perfect exposure – but worth thinking about in a situation where you need to get a good exposure first-time, because it is the only time.  Fortunately, when shooting RAW, there is a fair bit of latitude in the image file, so that you can adjust the exposure slightly in post-production – but it’s always worth striving for the best possible exposure in camera, as it will result in the best-possible quality image.

Why are there two Catchlights?

If you look closely (clicking on the image will open a larger version), you may be able to see two separate catchlights in his eyes: a smaller, central one, and a larger, brighter catchlight to the right and slightly lower.  If I only used a single flash unit, then why are there two catchlights?  The smaller, central catchlight is caused by the pre-flash of the pop-up flash on the camera used by the Nikon CLS to calculate exposure in iTTL mode, which in theory does not contribute significantly to the exposure, but can occasionally cause your subject to blink as the shutter opens if he or she has eyelids on a hair-trigger. The larger, brighter off-centre catchlight is from the exposure-making pop of light from the SB-700 Speedlight frame right, triggered by the camera pop-up flash.

Learning Points

What would I do differently, if I had the chance?

If I had had the luxury of more time, I would have liked to have tried placing my SB-700 Speedlight a little further off to one side, in order to create more shadow and three-dimensionality in his face.  This would also have helped to minimise direct reflections from the lacquered wood and ceramic tiles behind the chef, the worst of which I had to remove in post.  By lighting the chef more obliquely, no direct reflection (‘glare’) would have been visible at the camera position – only diffuse reflection from the wood and tiles would be visible.  Diffuse reflections are what I wanted to see here from the background, because diffuse (indirect) reflections communicate colour information, but produce no glare.  The absence of glare allows the Japanese characters to be clearly seen, as well as the colour of the wood and the tiles on the wall.

Also, as already mentioned, I would also have preferred a shallower depth of field to soften the Japanese characters on the wall further.  However, there just wasn’t the opportunity to refine my set-up, as he needed to get back to work.

Finally, in an ideal world, it would have been nice to spend more time with this guy, getting comfortable, and making more photographs together.  Although I do like this photograph, I am sure it would then have been possible to make some better photographs with some varied and candid expressions.

I guess I’ll just have to visit another time for some more fabulous sushi.

Lightroom 4 Tone Curve bug – An Update

Further to my post a month ago in which I mentioned that people were reporting that Lightroom 4 was failing to honour custom point-tone-curve edits made in Lightroom 3, it seems as if Adobe have come up with a fix.  Adobe have released Lightroom 4.1 RC (‘release candidate’), which you can download here.  Adobe states that the label ‘release candidate’ means that the update has been comprehensively tested, but would ‘benefit from additional community testing’.  In other words, it should work, but don’t give Adobe a hard time if it doesn’t :)   Most Lightroom users who have tested the fix are reporting on the relevant Adobe forum that the update solves the problem, and it is likely that Adobe will upgrade the interim ‘RC’ update to an official ’4.1′ update shortly.  So if you’ve been holding back on upgrading to Lightroom 4 on account of not wanting to lose your LR3 tone-curve edits, your wait appears to be over.

 

Fire, spirits and reincarnation: the Magic of Delhi

Delhi is a city which fascinates me. As Tarun Tejpal, of in the Indian weekly news magazine India Today, writes: “Delhi has more layers of culture, civilisation and history extant in it than any other city in India, arguably, in the world.“  Not for the faint-hearted, it is a city which in the summer assaults the senses like few other places on Earth. The noise, oppressive heat, assorted smells, crush, and chaos of Shahjahanabad, the old city, have to be experienced to be believed.  The travel writer, William Dalrymple, in his wonderful book “City of Djinns: A Year in Delhi” described his first impression of Delhi thus: “From the very beginning, I was mesmerized by the great capital, so totally unlike anything I had ever seen before… it was a labyrinth, a city of palaces, an open gutter, filtered light through a filigree lattice, a landscape of domes, an anarchy, a press of people, a choke of fumes, a whiff of spices.” Indeed.

Dalrymple explains that Delhi is a city reincarnated: over the centuries, at least seven cities have been built on the site where the current city stands. The city has been burned by invaders time and time again, and each time, it has been rebuilt, rising like a phoenix from the ashes. As you wander through the city, you catch glimpses of the architecture of previous dynasties, and this is what makes the city so culturally and historically rich. In the same way that the Hindus believe that a body will be reincarnated until it attains a state of perfection, Delhi appears fated to be reincarnated through the centuries. Some sufis (Muslim holy men or mystics) believe that the reason for this is that the djinns (invisible spirits composed of flame) loved Delhi so much they could never bear to see it empty or deserted, and every dwelling and street corner is haunted by them.

Delhi is also one of the most wonderful places – perhaps my favourite place – to make street portraits. The city is brimming with colourful characters from every walk of life. The eloquent Dalrymple again: “All the different ages of man were represented in the people of the city. Different millennia co-existed side by side. Minds set in different ages walked the same pavements, drank the same water, returned to the same dust.

These two portraits were made in the only area of Delhi which has survived from the city of Tughlukabad – the Delhi of the Middle Ages – which is located on the edge of the latest incarnation of the city, Lutyens’ New Delhi.

Street portrait, Old Delhi, India (© Ian Mylam)

Street portrait, Old Delhi, India (© Ian Mylam)

 

Old Delhi, India (© Ian Mylam)

Old Delhi, India (© Ian Mylam)

 

Tone Curve bug in Lightroom 4

Just heard this morning of a problem some people are experiencing with Lightroom 4.  If you open an image in LR4 to which you previously applied a custom point tone curve edit in LR3, you may find that LR4 dumps all your Tone Curve edits, and simply applies the default Tone Curve for the camera.  The Parametric Curve seems to be unaffected: it’s only the Point Curve which seems to cause a problem.  Adobe are aware of the bug, and are promising a fix soon.

Fortunately, if you re-open the image in LR3, the custom point curve seems still to be there, so the edits you applied in LR3 are not lost.

The issue only affects images previously edited in Lightroom 3: if you have never used Lightroom before version 4, there should be no problem.  However, it might be worth sticking with Lightroom 3 for the time being until Adobe have ironed out this bug.

Adobe Releases Lightroom 4

For anyone using Adobe Lightroom for their digital asset management and editing needs, Lightroom 4 has just been released.  The full price is US$149, with a US$79 upgrade path from any previous version.  For U.K. users, the price is £103.88 inc. VAT for the full version, or £59.09 for the upgrade.  This is around half the price of the previous version of Lightroom – so if you considered buying it before but couldn’t afford it, now might be the right time!

Although no major new features have been released there is additional camera support for the Canon 1DX, G1X, Nikon D800 and D800e, amongst others.  The Develop Module has had a facelift, the shadow/highlight recovery tools have been significantly improved, the local editing tools now include white balance, new Develop presets have been added, there is reverse geocoding, and Lightroom now offers the possibility of creating photo books.  There is also enhanced support for photographers shooting video.

More information is available on the Adobe Lightroom blog and also on adobe.com on the Lightroom product page.

 

City Lights in the Arabian Night

Dubai is a city which showcases some of the most spectacular modern architecture to be found anywhere in the world. The views of these incredible – and often beautiful – man-made structures emerging from the heat and dust haze of the Arabian desert landscape on the shore of the Persian Gulf often lead me to imagine that I am looking at a scene from the future: a city rising from the dust of a post-apocalyptic desert. In terms of photographing modern architecture and cityscapes, for me at least, it doesn’t get any better than Dubai. Photographically speaking, the only thing I miss are clouds, as there’s normally not whole a lot going on in that Middle Eastern sky to keep it interesting – just blue, blue and yet more burning blue (did I mention blue?).  Don’t misunderstand me – I am partial to a blue sky, particularly as they are not ten-a-penny in my native England – but in terms of making a photograph, city skies are generally more captivating with a few of the puffy white things in ‘em.  A possible solution to the blue-sky-no-cloud problem is to shoot at dawn, sunset or twilight, when the sky may be suffused with varying shades of colour.

When I made this photograph, it was almost night, and I had the feeling of viewing a scene from a neo-noir movie – a dystopian city state in a Brave New World, like something from the film Blade Runner, and this is the mood I was hoping to communicate here. I could almost picture Rick Deckard (A.K.A. Harrison Ford) hurtling between the buildings in a “Spinner“, and I started looking furtively over my shoulder for replicants – although to be fair, maybe I had already downed one drink too many in the hotel bar.

The spire of the Burj Khalifa – currently the tallest man-made structure in the world – is visible in the distance, on the left of the frame.

Sheikh Zayed Road - Dubai, U.A.E. (© Ian Mylam)

Sheikh Zayed Road - Dubai, U.A.E. (© Ian Mylam)

Into the Light – Blackpool, England

This is an image I made back in the autumn, in Blackpool, Lancashire, England. The weather was showery, and there was sunshine one minute and heavy rain the next, with fantastic ever-changing cloudscapes over the coast. The sun frequently broke through the stratocumulus cloud, sending dramatic shafts of light down to the surface of the sea. I made numerous frames of these crepuscular rays, but this one is my favourite. The end of Blackpool’s North Pier is visible frame left (hard to see at this size, but visible if you click on the image for the larger version).

"Into the Light" - Blackpool, Lancashire, England (© Ian Mylam)

"Into the Light" - Blackpool, Lancashire, England (© Ian Mylam)