Homework: Photograph the Familiar

Every once in awhile, whether you are a creative person or not, you hit a rut. As a photographer, sometimes I feel like I’ve photographed the same things a hundred times, have photographed all the interesting angles, found all the interesting lines and textures and light and whatever. Of course I haven’t, but I feel like everyone has already seen that same old stuff I’ve photographed, and I don’t want to photograph it again because it’ll be as boring to them as it was to me.

It’s not like that, of course. And I was thinking about it this morning as I drove to work, and I assigned myself some homework that I encourage others to try out. I assigned myself the task of going back to things that are familiar to me, things that I feel like I’ve shot to death, to try to get something fresh, and something different. The photo above is one result of that–I have taken hundreds of photos of downtown, and specifically of the American Tobacco district. But tonight I tried a different perspective, different technique, different angles. In the past I have fought against the light poles that jut into my compositions, distracting the eye and wounding compositional harmony. Tonight I tried to incorporate them, to use them as visual interest in my composition. I’ll let you be the judge if it worked or not, but the point is this: I went out to an area that is familiar to me, that is important to me, and found a new way to look at it.

In my house I have hanging two black and white photos of trees, both taken in 2008, during one of the worst droughts I have experienced in North Carolina. One photo is from Falls Lake, the other from Jordan Lake. Both are dead trees that I wouldn’t have been able to photograph had the water been higher. I entered both of them in a photo contest, and won third place for one of them.

I periodically return to Falls Lake and Jordan Lake because I like to be near the water, like to see the herons and ospreys, like to keep my eyes peeled for the elusive bald eagles (I have seen them, but haven’t yet taken a good photograph of one). These lakes, like downtown Durham, represent something that is familiar to me, and often they are sources of great angst–I return to them again and again to photograph, but only occasionally do I come away with photos that I think are worthwhile. I return to the lakes, in spite of this frustration, because there are the non-photography related things I like about the lakes.

Here again, though, I push myself to go back, to take the time to really look, to find compositions, to find something fresh. Most recently, I went to Falls Lake and found a couple of trees to add to my black and white “lake tree” series. Maybe one day I’ll collect them all, print them, display them. Maybe they’ll just be practice. But again, I push myself to revisit the familiar and try to come up with something new.

I won’t try to convince you that it always works–I am still feeling like I’m in a rut, and the photos aren’t really scratching the itch. But even when you’re just going through the motions, it’s important to be out there, even just for practice, even just to be working on the muscle memory, or memorizing the field of view at various focal lengths. Sometimes, it’s just a good idea to have your camera with you, just in case something rare and beautiful comes your way. As with an amazing sunset the other evening, if you don’t have your camera with you, you can’t get the photo (I didn’t, and I missed it).

Ansel Adams said he felt successful if he ended up with one great photo a year. I strive for a bit more than that, but that sounds about right. So get out there, and get shooting. If you’re not a photographer, find that thing that has become so familiar it’s almost invisible, and try to make it fresh again.