The Moment In Between

The Ronstadt Brothers. CSPS Hall, copyright Eyeguess Photography 2017 

Most people who are serious about photography have at least heard of Henri Cartier-Bresson. He was a master photojournalist who popularized the concept of “The Decisive Moment'. That's an instant in time where the elements of a photograph-the positions and action of the subjects, the lighting, all the other factors-are captured in a way that makes the whole greater than the sum of the parts. It's an ideal behind journalistic and spontaneous photography that most aspire to and on occasion achieve just right.

In sports it may be the moment a bat strikes a ball or a receiver snags a pass with his fingertips. In wildlife photography it may be the moment a bee alights on a flower or a grizzly bear snatches a leaping salmon in mid air. In photojournalism it may be the moment a soldier is truck by a bullet or a flaming building explodes. Whatever the case, we see such photos and are duly impressed by the image. They encapsulate nearly everything we expect from photography: capturing an instant in time in a way that can impress it upon memory indelibly and eternally.

I'm not going to talk about “Decisive Moment” photos because that's been done. A lot. By photographers and critics more experienced, knowledgeable and skilled than I am. Instead, I'm going to talk about “The Moments in Between”. That is, photos that fall into place before or after what people would consider “The Decisive Moment”. Sometimes these photos actually work better than the ones that show the expected result of a “Decisive Moment” capture.

As I mentioned, most people seek “The Decisive Moment” because it's what they are looking for. It's what they think the viewer wants to see. For working photographers, it's certainly what an editor or client is willing to pay for. They are “money shots” because most of the time they capture the essence of an event.

Sometimes, however, it's what happens between the peak of action that can help a viewer better connect with the subject of a photo or the event captured. Sometimes what happens before or after “The Decisive Moment” can be more visually intriguing than the moment itself. I remember a photo I saw years ago of a lion that had just missed catching an antelope and was trying to regain her balance as she slide in the dust.

Or it may be something that happened in a different spot than the peak of action. On a regular basis we see photos of a defender who slipped and missed coverage, laying on the field in disgust, watching the completed pass result in a touchdown or a goal being scored.

This is part of my own approach to performance photography. Some of my better photos are of moments in a show that are not peak moments. Sure, everyone loves to see the leaping guitarist or the singer at the height of emotion. That's not all there is to a concert though. I've been on stage many times, and can tell you that there are times when a performer drops into a certain zone. There may be a band, or entire orchestra on stage, but the musician is lost in the music, and there's only his/her self and the music that exists at the instant in time.

It's these “Moments in Between” peaks of action that I actively seek to capture whether I'm shooting musicians, dance or theater. To me, such images can say much more about the human beings on stage than peak action photos. They can give an insight into the art of performing as well. By freezing seldom considered, transitory moments from a performance, people get a chance to study that moment, and consider, perhaps all that goes into bringing music, dance or theater together into the shows people love to see.

Take the above photo of The Ronstadt Brothers in concert at CSPS Hall in Cedar Rapids, IA. A second before, and a second after, this instant, the musicians were each either looking at another band member or the audience. Yet in this image, they are all absorbed by the music, by their performance. To me, it evokes the feeling I often felt on stage of having the world just fall away and all that existed was the music I was making, and how it was meshing with the music others were making that I heard in the background.

These are sublime moments which every musician recognizes are the key to making beautiful music on stage. Yes, it's important to remain cognizant of what other players are doing, and work together to ensure everything comes together as seamlessly as possible. However, the reality is that ultimately, playing music is about self. No matter how much cooperation there is on stage, each musician is still ultimately trying to fill his own world with the best music he can create.

To me, a photo like this one captures that feeling almost perfectly. A juxtaposition of people both isolated and working in close concert to produce beautiful music. It's a feeling that's hard to describe for those who've never performed music on stage.

So, while pursuing ideals of “The Decisive Moment” is a worthy (and to some extent vital) goal photographically, it's important to also think about the “Moments in Between”. I'll readily admit that the “hit rate” of such images can be lower. Often such captures do indeed look like “missed it by that much” photos that should be mercilessly subjected to the DEL key.

Mercilessly, but not too quickly. Take enough time to study the elements of such photos to see if they tell a story that a “Decisive Moment” photo doesn't tell. That's often the measure of true success of a photo, telling an effective story, a unique story. Sometimes that story is best told by an image that might otherwise be overlooked in the rush to produce eye candy that everyone expects to see.

The "Secret" to Better Photographs?

If left to the marketing people from various camera manufacturers, the key to making great photographs is to buy the latest cameras they have to offer. Sure, you may have done that a couple of years ago, but that camera no longer produces photos as good as its replacement. They even have lab test data and professional endorsements to back up that claim.

The situation isn't helped any by the thousands of “experts” on various photography websites who claim they must have certain camera features to produce the best photos they can. Certainly better high ISO performance can help produce clearer low light photos. There's no doubt that better auto focus speed and accuracy can help with sports or wildlife photos. The question is whether these make for better images.

By that I mean: does the image you are viewing strike a chord with you? Does it resonate in some way that evokes certain emotions or thoughts? Does it leave you thinking about what you viewed even after you have stopped viewing it?

These are important questions to ask yourself when considering what a “good” photograph is. Granted, for most situations, what people are really looking for is an in-focus, pleasantly-composed image that captures the moment for future viewing. The fact is that today, smartphones can do that for about 75% of situations. For those times when things like long lenses or high frame rate or high ISO performance are needed, even 5 year old dslrs and milcs can do more than most people really need.

A visit to any photography websites with public forums (such as dpreview.com) will demonstrate that many of the expert hobbiests and enthusiasts who take great pride in the quality of their bleeding edge gear are taking photos that could be done just as well with cameras 5 or even 10 years old. For that matter, when it comes down to showing on the internet or average sized prints, smartphones from the past couple of years have more than enough output.

There are a lot of average, even mediocre photos being taken with the latest, top quality camera gear. So why aren't these photos really good, or even great, given the cameras used are supposed to give that level of result?

Because the people using the cameras are looking to the wrong source of real “goodness” of their photos.

“It's not the camera, it's the photographer” is a common phrase, and fundamentally it is the great truth behind producing the best photos. Laying aside certain obvious technical limitations or requirements, it's the mind behind the making of an image that counts the most. This involves both the technical understanding of how cameras work in conjunction with light and shadow, color and form, but also the creative spark that drives a person to produce photos to begin with.

There's no secret to learning to produce good, or even great photos. Having suitable gear and learning to use it well is the easy part. The thousands of technically great, but aesthetically uninspiring photos out there prove this. What is often overlooked is inspiration. By that I mean having a sort of photographic muse, a reference point from which you assess your own efforts at achieving the best, most-satisfying photos you can.

That inspiration comes from other photographers (or even painters). Any photography instructor worth his/her salt will tell you to look at the work of as many notable photographers as you can. Study their images. Pick the ones you find most inspiring, those images that make you think “I wish I could take a photo like that” and find out how it was done. Pick a few favorite photographers and learn about them: their lives, their techniques, why they produced the sort of images they did.

I say this because in a recent discussion on photography, I cited two well known sports photographers. Someone replied that he had no idea who they were as though they must not be that good if he didn't know about them. Granted, he may simply not have enough of an interest in sports photography to know of any famous sports photographers, but his ignorance is only one of many examples.

This ignorance of past masters a problem I see a lot among photographers today. I see people talking about how they can't produce certain images because their gear doesn't focus fast enough, or doesn't have a high enough burst frame rate, or the high ISO performance isn't clean enough, etc. The fact is that in the past none of these technical limitations prevented photographers from producing classic, iconic images.

That's why I say the “secret” to producing the best photos is to study past masters. Immerse yourself in their images. Let the thoughts and emotions you experience looking at them dominate your thinking. Bask in the emotional, aesthetic aspect of the photos for a while. After you gain some understanding of what the photograph makes you think and feel and why it does, then start considering the technical aspects of the photo.

The average person relates to an image based on the emotional impact it has on them. Most people don't look at an image and immediately think about what lens was used or whether it's suitably sharp or how bad the high ISO noise level is. They judge a photo by an emotional response that occurs within about 3 seconds of viewing it. It's mostly the gear-oriented enthusiasts who first think in terms of technical qualities of a photo.

My own “first inspiration” came from W. Eugene Smith. Since then I've added many photographers to the list of those I study, but he was the first whose photos made me really stop and think about how, and why, I wanted to produce images similar to his.

I can guarantee that if you spend more time studying the photos of great photographers than you do visiting “how to” websites or forums populated by self-proclaimed experts, your photos will improve. This is because you have to know what great photos look like in order to try to accomplish the same thing. Here's a good website to get you started:

Digital Photo Mentor

(Normally I would recommend the Masters of Photography website, but it appears that no one is maintaining it lately and so a lot of the images don't even load).