CLAY ENOS

Today's installment is a longer chat inspired by the Wired.com video about my Streetstudio portraits that's been making the rounds of the interwebs.

It's as low-fi as ever.

This is the second of what is likely to be many webcasts on various subjects. This particular recording is focused on my movie set work and unit photography in general.

I hope it offers a glimpse that is relevant and otherwise interesting to those who can spare the time. It last 20 minutes.

This is the debut webisode on the UStream.tv program I'm calling claystation. It's a little long and visually dull but some may find it useful and/or interesting. There's more to come for sure.

I had some technical difficulties before beginning the recording so it begins abruptly because I'd been babbling for ten minutes prior to the start. And the strange black thing on the right side had text with my name, etc. during the live webcast but didn't end up transferring to the recording. I'm learning.

A woman who discovered my work in Tom Ang's excellent book Digital Photography Masterclass wrote me this morning with some questions. I figured I'd share my responses publicly. While her questions are good, my answers aren't the most eloquent or deep, but it's what came out in the five minutes it took to share.

Do you edit any of your photographs? and if you do, how so?

I edit my photos in the sense that I choose my favorites. In terms of image manipulation, I keep it to the bare minimum. I judge a photo to be good if I don't have to crop and can evoke all I want with as little adjustment as possible. Increasingly I am doing all my image tweaks in Lightroom and not even bringing them into Photoshop. Less is more for me.

Do you try to convey a message through you photographs or do you just take them because you think that its attractive? Do you have any intentions with the way your photographs are taken and the areas you take them in?

I am drawn to making pictures for all kinds of reasons. Sometimes it's a quirky landscape and other times it's a remarkable face. Those things are all dependent on timing and where I find myself. Attractive is a tricky word. I am attracted to lots of things that don't always conform to what is classically attractive.

I take most of my photos with the intention to share or honor. I am always aware that my pictures will be seen by others so I try to make images that are strong and compelling. But I am also aware that the people in my pictures need to be respected. Most of my portraits are a kind of visual dialogue between me and the subject. Since those interactions are usually steeped in gratitude and curiosity, the resulting images tend to share those traits. Make sense?

What inspired you to go into photography and into this style of it particularly?

Photography is a whole lot easier than drawing and painting and a lot more individual than filmmaking. It was a natural fit for me. Combining it with my love of travel, that was that. I don't think of myself as a travel photographer. I'm just a photographer who reflects in my pictures a life led out and about.

I'm planning to take photographs in your style - well this style - and it would be great if I could get some advice on what I should do.

Photography has an uncanny ability to reflect the mind and intentions of the person holding the camera. Your "style" will develop with time and with your ability to clarify your intentions. Master the basics of exposure, etc., but then forget it and go make pictures that express your heart/mind/body/vision. Allow yourself to explore, question, assert, grow and celebrate with your chosen art.

Don't forget too that this is a business. Get your fiscal house in order so that you can make pictures always.

Hope this helps.

Make pictures.

It didn't take more than a second to know I wanted to photograph this guy. I was visiting the co-op office and he was in line to have his green beans weighed. Background options were somewhat limited but I figured I could use the white wall ten feet away. I persuaded him over to the wall and in doing so caused a wave of laughter and playful mocking from the other farmers.

Just as I got him into place I could see the default stiffness about to wash over him. That rigidity is a rather typical reaction to being photographed that I've noticed folks default to when in front of my camera. Their arms lock to their sides, they remove all expression from their faces, and they stare blankly into the lens. I call it the passport photo effect and I've speculated that it happens because the majority of times these rural farmers get photographed, it's for official documents or similarly formal affairs. The smiling snapshot or today's straight-armed self-portraits are learned behaviors.

Anyway, I capitalized on the the laughter of the group and his own embarrassment to make this shot. In the moments before he was to get serious, he reached up to remove his hat and allowed himself to laugh. He wasn't expecting me to be shooting so fast. More laughter rolled through the spectators but he quickly got his game face on and the moment was over.

Make pictures.

Thanks to Simon Abrams for requesting that I blog about this one from Nicaragua.

I had spent the better part of the day on the back of a motorcycle as it wound and bounced its way through the mountainous jungles of San Juan del Rio Coco's coffee country. The last farmer's home we visited as the day came to end was this man's. He was sitting in his hammock listening to a soccer game as we pulled up. He had no pretense whatsoever. My arrival and almost immediate photographic activities didn't even get a passing glance from him.

Only after 15 minutes or so did he seem to warm up to the idea that I was genuinely interested in his efforts. Sure enough, once that nut was cracked, it provided almost an hour of him sharing his story, his home, his farm, and his aspirations. He even had me climb up on his roof to shoot the view of his road. He got into it. You can check out other nearby images from the Flickr feed to get a sense of that time together. (Sorry there aren't more there).

This portrait came about because the light that was bouncing around the space just off his porch was so luminous, delicately textured, and otherwise monochromatic that I couldn't let it go without putting someone in there. He was the obvious choice.

For the first few shots he stood close to the wall and I wasn't feeling it. I asked him to step closer and as he did, he also relaxed his stance. I made a dozen shots in about a minute and felt that was sufficient. I knew my own enthusiasm wouldn't abate but politeness dictated I stop. At one point some chickens ran into a few frames but I opted for the less distracting composition.

There ain't a stich of retouching or a lick of Photoshop on this shot. That's increasingly my M.O. I recommend it.

Make pictures and don't let good light go to waste.

I'd been riding in the back of a pick-up for the better part of two hours when we returned to Jinotega, Nicaragua to run some errands. We'd picked up large bunches of plantains and were delivering them to folks. As the day turned to night I was excited to see what pictures could be made in drive-by mode. I love this time of day when the ambient natural light is equal to that produced by artificial sources. Arguably, it's my favorite time of the day and it's as fleeting as morning dew (or a coffee flower in full bloom).

As we turned around on this street, I saw the sunset, the Che stencil, and pink hues shared by both. I fumbled to switch cameras. I had been holding my D3x with the 50mm and needed my D3 with the 24mm. I lost a second or two in the transition and as a result lost some proximity to the building as we pulled away. I snapped two shots as quickly as my finger allowed and chimped the results with satisfaction.

Lightroom allowed me to reduce some contrast, do a little burning and dodging, and otherwise mimic ol' darkroom efforts and share it as is.

I like this shot too. It's got a subtle reference to place with a mood to match. And considering it's not exactly made under ideal conditions, standing in the back of a moving pick-up, I can imagine making a better shot one day. It's a little like golf, part of what keeps you playing is the potential to do better next time. Photography is the ultimate live-and-learn art form.

Make pictures.

This shot is more fun to see with a little hindsight. At the moment of making it, I was concerned to have decent hand positions and a shutter speed that would speak to the task at hand (which was removing defects from the passing green coffee). It became obvious shortly thereafter that the clinical face-mask hair-net stuff was just for me, the visiting photographer.

Sometimes I forget that I represent something more than just a curious artist. In this case, I was something akin to an inspector. The Honduran co-op leaders knew that my visit was official enough that they needed to play by the book and that book apparently requires these women to cover their hair and faces, which is idiotic considering their role in the process is to remove defects and foreign objects. Whatever.

All I know is that after a few shots of their efforts, I was frustrated with not being able to see their faces and asked my watchful male guides if they could remove their masks so I could see some smiles. They obliged and the women whipped those masks off faster than you know. It was then that I realized the ruse. They were as uncomfortable wearing that stuff as I was trying to make decent human pictures.

What else was being faked for me? I did a quick review and came up with nothing but it was instructive. I'd be on guard for the future and remind leaders that I don't care about silly rules or small lapses in protocol. I care about people.

And if anyone is concerned about germs here, they need to relax. This is green coffee being touched by bare hands (there's no requirement for gloves) many weeks before it makes it to any roaster where it'll be "cooked" for at least 12 minutes, repacked, shipped, etc. You should be more concerned about the herbicides, pesticides and general poor soil quality of non-organic coffee long before any hygienic performance art.

Make pictures.

Before I get to talking about this shot, y'all might want to visit http://clayenos.com/vespa to learn more about the adventure I'm currently on, and from which the recent posts/pictures are gleaned.

This is the security guard at the Marcala, Honduras dry mIll used by the RAOS Co-op. He was a jovial soul with a great face and a cowboy hat. I might have made a few shots of him earlier in the visit but after exploring the mill for a little while he ended up sitting in a place where some dramatic light pouring in a doorway gave him an almost Hollywood feel. It would have been way too contrasty if it weren't for some light bouncing back off the red coffee bags in the foreground.

I gestured for him to stay the way he was but he popped up to pose instead. He quickly grabbed his gun-belt and weapon, and stuck this militaristic pose. I just worked to frame the shot putting coffee in the left foreground and to cut off the flare inducing light source on the right.

I notice that little orange lip of something poking in on the right but most probably don't.

Photo-wise, this isn't my normal fare. It's anomalous light and an overly contrived stance but I'm glad someone likes it.

If anything, I'm impressed by the 24hr security needs of a dry mill. If you think about it, each of those bags is filled with "money." A thief with a truck and some muscle could load up and sell their ill-gotten gains to what's called a "coyote" in the neighborhood. No one would be the wiser.

Make pictures.

I was strolling among the 98% female workers sorting out defects from the green coffee in Pueblo Nuevo, Nicaragua and this woman caught my eye. She's pretty. Simple as that.

To make this picture wasn't easy. I struggled with the conditions in the sorting area as most of the women had their backs to the light source. She was no exception. She was shy but seemed to like the camera and the attention I was giving her despite the laughter and teasing coming her way from the others. I could hear the tone of it all but remained locked in on making a decent shot.

Here's a series of things that went through my head in the minute we spent together: Pretty, 50, flattering, relax, small aperture, focus on the face, don't ignore the arm, see the lines, simplify the background, breathe, maybe a smile, "sonrisa", she's cool, cooperative, mysterious, pretty, breathe, show coffee, reassure, gratitude, hope.

It's a cacophonous place in my head while I'm shooting but I've gotten used to it. Those ideas, and probably a dozen more, roll up and down my arms as my head engages my fingers.

Reviewing the picture is a more reflective exercise but I feel a bond with her. I feel like we have unfinished business. Nothing prurient, just that there's more to share. I look forward to showing her this image when I roll through Nicaragua on my Northbound ride. I'll make a point of it.

Also some housekeeping. By now I'm backing up on requests to blog about my images. That said, I'm also liking the process. It's motivating to write for at least one person who cares. I'm going to stop numbering requests and simply note that it's "by request" in the the title. We'll see how that goes.

Make pictures.

This isn't a work of art so much as it's a peek into what catches my eye, patterns, color, and simple compositions.

It was taken as I was walking around unaccompanied through a mostly empty coffee mill in Dos de Tilaran, Costa Rica that is owned by the Coopeldos Co-op. The only thing memorable about it's creation is that this guy politely stopped in his tracks to avoid walking into the frame. Out of the corner of my eye I could see his double-take glances at my odd choice of things to photograph. I made the shot, took a closer look at him, and saw far better, more interesting potential in his portrait. (Those images are right next to this in the Flickr stream)

I forgot all about this shot until reviewing images in Lightroom. I'm glad someone liked it.

Make pictures. Patterns, portraits, whatever.

I'd been tasked with making pictures for Peet's Coffee of the Las Hermanas co-op members. Day one of that effort hadn't gone so well due to bad light, a strong cultural aversion to smiling and looking at the camera, and an abundance of logos on the women's shirts.

Day two, I hoped would be more successful. I was working with only one requested formal consideration; to have foliage-based green behind them, not a building. While that may seem easy to do in farm country, it's another thing altogether if you're after good light and you have no grip gear.

Regardless, I was brought to a gathering of Las Hermanas and quickly scouted around for a place to shoot. That's when I was spotted by this guy and a few other men who'd all been drinking. He yelled to be photographed too. He enthusiastically and drunkenly started suggesting poses, and places to shoot him. Needless to say, I was focused on my last chance to shoot Las Hermanas and told him to wait his turn.

It was late afternoon, the light was fairly cooperative, but the best place to shoot the women was directly out in front of the drunk guys. I remember thinking to myself, "if a drunk is my biggest hurdle right now, I can handle it."

Sure enough, I shot for 10 minutes or so while the drunk guy screamed and attempted to walk on his hands behind me. (At one point I spun around and shot that but didn't post it to Flickr. You'll just have to trust me). Otherwise, I just tuned him out.

Only once I felt confident that Las Hermanas had been rendered well, I obliged the drunk in making his portrait. I had my 50mm ƒ1.4 in hand, spun him so the light was behind, got in his face, and made this shot. It's one of about five frames. Done with a smile.

Make pictures, prioritize, stay focused.

A slightly different shot had been requested as an homage to the hard work that brings us our morning cup of coffee but this shot has had me under it's spell since I chimped it on the scene.

That's 160lbs of green coffee on that man's back. He spends all day long moving those bags around a serpentine warehouse. He does this with several colleagues assisting in the heave-ho hustle that marks the decidedly masculine side of dry-mill work. (The women tend to be involved in spotting and picking out defects).

I converted this and all the shots from that day into black and white thinking they work better with a limited palate. The light, the motion, the energy, are much more prominent when undistracted by colors. No one needs to know his hat is red.

To make it, I stood in one spot for a few passes of the guys. I had my shutter speed set slow enough to give the shot some motion and tracked each guy as they passed. This is one of only a few that's reasonably sharp, with a composition that speaks to setting, collective action, and the hard work at hand.

It's one piece of the remarkably labor intensive world of coffee production. If any of the pictures from my trip speak to something deeper, I'd hope it'd elicit a newfound appreciation for all the work and resources that go into a cup of coffee. $4 for an Americano seems cheap sometimes.

Make pictures

I always get a little nervous when presented with shooting kids. Sometimes they end up getting all riled up in seeing themselves and the otherwise mellow vibe is disturbed with competing kids trying to get into my shots. Being brought to a school for the expressed purpose of making photos still had me concerned until I walked into the classroom.

The kids, as are so many Nicaraguans, were shy, gentle and accepting of what I was there to do. Calmness, deep curiosity, and quiet smiles were presented everywhere I looked. I walked in among the kids and chairs, stared at faces, lined up shots in my mind's eye, and periodically used my camera. This shot is the result of that exact process.

Picture it: A truck pulls up and a smiling gringo emerges carrying two huge cameras, walks into your classroom, and for any number of reasons, you don't get phased.

That's awesome, and that's not normal in my experience, but then again, Nicaragua isn't a normal place. I didn't try to make anyone feel comfortable. I said hello, made small talk, and pat some heads, but for the most part I skulked around looking for photos to make. These are just cool kids.

One of the things I always do is not pretend to be anything but a photographer. I am there to make pictures, not teach, not entertain, not corrupt. I think that helps on a subconscious level and my pictures (or at least the ones I like and share) reveal that. It's not a guarantee but it's seems to work for me. It often saves asking if I can take a picture. I just slowly start doing it.

What the heck else would you expect from a pale, geared-up Gringo?!

Make pictures.

"She's 84" said my guide as we pulled away from the farm. We were standing in the bed of a pick-up. I was waving goodbye, and certain I had some good photos from the last ten minutes. Her being 84 was a nice detail and impressed me as much as it did my guide.

We had ended up on this coffee farm because it's owned by one of the Las Hermanas co-op members. (Peet's sells their coffee under that name. Keep an eye out for it). I made the required pictures of the younger woman but there were so many other things catching my eye. Fantastic textures, a farmhand with his machete, and her, this wonderful, quiet, smiling old woman whose face was lined with life. She was tending the fire within the typical, dark, country kitchen with its wood-burning mud stove and I simply asked her to pose and started shooting. After a moment of requisite seriousness, she began to laugh. (Some of those photos are elsewhere in my Flickr stream).

After making those initial formal portraits, I allowed things to settle down and she found a seat at the kitchen table. I could see the light coming from either side of the room, her hands gently placed on the table, the colors of the wall behind, and knew there were more pictures to be made.

I have no other purpose but to make pictures so kneeling down and exploring a scene may seem odd to my hosts but for me, it's what I do. I raised the camera up and shot down on her hands. I played with focus. I just allowed her to sit quietly and did my thing. I'm glad they've been so well received.

Make pictures.

This little diptych is a inspired less by the hugeness of the Hoover Dam but by the electric wire infrastructure that it spawns. Big dams make big power and by all accounts we're using it.