PP's Photographer in the Spotlight: Tony Hadley

I can't remember exactly which image of Tony Hadley's first caught my eye at Photo.net, an online global community of photographers of all levels and styles. But I do remember that, it seemed, one after another, after another, of his images that he would add to his portfolio reflected an eye for detail, composition, thought and creativity. In particular, his mathematical abstracts -- like the one above and another elsewhere in this interview -- I found intriguing -- detailed and, often, masterfully colorful while at the same time artful.

Tony, a Canadian citizen, is this month's Photo Potpourri "Photographer in the Spotlight." Born in St. Vincent, West Indies, he was adopted as an only child in infancy. Tony studied classical piano for many years but gave it up when he moved to Canada to attend college. At an early age, he says, he had a fascination for "the magic" of photography.

"My parents had enough resources to build me a basic darkroom in the basement area of our home," Tony says. "I started the first photography club at my high school, where there was no lab or equipment, so our meetings were held on the front steps of the school." He started shooting weddings on the side but eventually got out of it, joined Lakeshore Camera club in Quebec and was an active member for a brief period. "I did not have the confidence or the material to submit anything for the competitions, but I learned a fair amount. It is through this club that I was able to benefit from a Freeman Patterson seminar.

"Most of my photography for a number of years was very casual -- and mostly when I went on vacation. I became part of the Photo.net community in mid-2006, and it is here that I better focused on image-making," weathering the disappointment shared by many member photographers -- low ratings from anonymous critics without comments on photos submitted for evaluation. Nevertheless, he said, "I feel that my growth was exponential since that time."

And I agree. As mentioned at the very top, Tony's work caught my eye immediately, and I count several of his images among "my favorites" that each photo.net member can designate in a sort of personal, member gallery. In a recent interview, I was able to get Tony to answer a few questions about his craft.

When did you first get into photography, and did your interest develop gradually or did you jump into it 100% from the beginning?

It all started when I was about 7 years old when my neighbor photographed me. Hours later, he magically emerged from a closed room with a dripping black-and-white print, and I truly knew that I had to perform the same magic. This happened in the Caribbean nation of St. Vincent and the Grenadines. Later, and in my teens, I completed a Bachelor of Commerce degree with a major in quantitative methods in a Montreal university, after which I became a Canadian citizen. As a consequence, my photography really reflects the North American and Caribbean world.

Are there any photographers you can cite as influences, or favorites?

In the early stages of my photography, I was taught black-and-white darkroom work by the late Michael Odlum (not a well-known photographer), who gave me great tips about low-speed B&W film like Agfa ISOPAN 25, the use of Agfa Rodinal film developer, and how agitation could affect the development stage. In addition, I greatly admired the B&W work of Ansel Adams. Later on in my development, I also attended a one-day seminar put on by Freeman Patterson – a Canadian nature photographer, and it is here that I learned a great deal about color, composition and the "art of seeing." I cannot emphasize enough about the "art of seeing," since no amount of technical competence can make up for the lack of seeing something worthwhile photographing that may appeal to others. I have developed a sort of workflow to "seeing," and it is to stop and wonder what it was that first attracted my attention. Once I have identified it, this becomes the center of interest. I must now decide what the foreground and background will look like, and if it does not "add" value, then it must be "subtracted." This sometimes leads to visiting that "center of interest" many times to see what different light or different times of the year will offer.

What gives you the most pleasure, satisfaction or fulfillment about your photography? Do you have one or two favorites from your entire portfolio?

When I accomplish a high level of artistic expression and technical competence in an image, I think that gives me a great deal of satisfaction on one level. On another level, I simply love finding, admiring and capturing something exquisite that Mother Nature has to offer. On the few occasions when that happens, I feel a great amount of excitement and trepidation at the same time: excitement, because I am experiencing something in nature that may never repeat itself, trepidation, because I fear that I will not be able to capture it adequately.

I am so fascinated by the world in which we live. Sometimes I feel like I am in Pandora’s box because I think I see beauty where others might walk right by it. It is difficult to choose favorites, but there are a couple that I like, but like music, depending on my frame of mind, on another day I might like something else.

To paraphrase another photographer: "The most important asset I can now claim as a photographer is that I was simply there. While this seems obvious to most, I believe it to be significant, considering all I have forsaken just to make sure I did not miss the fall" colors and other photographic experiences. Other than self-satisfaction and the possibility of an odd sale here and there, my images may be remembered to live for a short while after my "station" has arrived.

You do some fascinating geometric abstracts (like the one at the very top of this post). Is that the phrase you use to describe them, or ... do you term it something else? Do you have a strong math background to help you appreciate these or know what you're going after from the onset of a particular project?

My mathematical or geometric abstracts ... (are) something quite dormant in my current stage of photography. At one point, for a few months, I was totally addicted to producing these images. I literally had to tear myself away from it simply because I knew I wanted to explore and develop myself in other areas of image-making. Even though I have a strong mathematical background, I am not sure how my brain processes these images. However, I look for form, color and in the case of these abstracts, I aim to try and find something to which a viewer can relate, even at a subliminal level.

How difficult, or time-consuming, is it to set up/arrange, shoot and post-process these abstracts?

I use several different programs, including Photoshop CS2. These non-CS2 programs require a disciplined approach to acquiring these special images, and it is very time-consuming, but in the end, I find something that appeals to me. When I use Photoshop CS2, I mostly start with an original photograph, and it is then very much a trial and error with a goal in mind, but never having it all mapped out. Here again, I will try and keep the criteria of form, color and something recognizable that can attract a viewer’s attention.

Are those abstracts the images that fetch the most comments and/or interest from those who see them? Do you display your work online at a site other than photo.net? If so, where?

Most of my online images are on Photo.net, and I get a sense that the people who enjoy these geometric and other abstracts are in the minority. I get ecstatic responses from this minority, but the images are probably not everyone’s "cup of tea." The evidence of that is when I get a question like "What is it?" or “What does it represent?” I wonder if those people that cannot appreciate the abstract image feel that I am trying to put something over on them and calling it "abstract art." Perhaps they see it as art, but spelled with a silent and non-visible "F” preceding it. I was invited by a photo.net member to display my abstracts at another site, but as of now, I have not gone that route.

In addition to abstracts, you do some fabulous landscapes and vistas, and I read in your photo.net biography that you truly enjoy shooting outdoors in the fall. How do you avoid making those types of photographs or shoots stale or redundant? Do you try different places, maybe?

Since I am in awe of the fall season, it is quite easy for my images to become redundant. However, there are so many things that can help you to avoid this, and changing location is a very good start, and even visiting the same location on different days may yield something different. On a different day, you might see something that you missed on a previous day. In addition, one has compositional aspects, camera techniques (in camera zoom during exposure, multiple-exposure, in-camera images, etc.), choice of lens (wide-angle, macro and telephoto), plus use of post-processing, and all of the tools provided in Photoshop. One is limited only by one’s imagination and creativity.

Do you have a favorite type of shot to do? The abstracts? Or sunsets? Or autumnal vistas? Does it depend on how challenging it is, or does it strictly have to do with how it makes you feel?

One must know one’s self to answer this question, and the fact that I could not pin this down to a single category will probably lead me to the answer. I have quite a varied portfolio on photo.net, and I conclude the following, supported by comments from others: "Color" is an important part of my work. If I can find color, form, and good light, then I am a happy camper. I am probably in that category of "how it makes me feel." There have been a few times where I was in complete awe and had to remember that I should be photographing the scene.

Have you ever had any of your work published or displayed publicly at a gallery or at arts/crafts fairs? Do you sell your work? If not, would you like to?

The first and only time my work was published was in a high-gloss Taiwanese magazine called Unique Image. They spotted my images at photo.net, selected nine of them, and made me September 2008 Photographer of the Month with all images printed as full or double-page sized. In addition, they asked me to write an article.

This is also the first time that I am mentioning in a public forum the details about being published. I have kept a fairly low profile on Photo.net because I wanted my images to speak for themselves and not try and enhance them with talk about being published.

With that commercial success, it has given me confidence that I could approach other magazines and perhaps have some luck in getting other publications to feature my images. I am starting to fantasize about doing a book, but I am a long way from that.

At present I don’t do galleries or exhibitions, but that may be an essential step in generating some sales. I have had a few requests for prints, but I probably need a new Web site to promote that kind of activity and other further commercial promotion.

I am concerned with the life balance of proceeding commercially too far, compared with my ability to continuing to create images. For personal reasons, I would rather lean on the side of making images.

Is there any type of photography, or any particular subjects, you've done little of or have never done that you would like to explore more?

How about scantily clad women on Caribbean beaches or mountain streams with a waterfall in the background with tropical birds chirping away and rays of light shining on the center of attraction? (smile). No, I don’t think so. I think I would like to continue to find nature’s gems from a landscape perspective with a new, not-yet-purchased wide-angle lens (10-20mm) and close-up macro photography of natural objects.

Whenever I pick up my macro lens and start looking at a subject, it opens up a new and hidden world because the way a macro lens sees the world is quite different. I recently uploaded some "bokeh" (noticeable depth-of-field with smooth, out-of-focus background elements) images with the macro lens, and thus far they are like my other abstracts – keenly admired by a few, but not by the majority.

Click on the following link to see more Tony Hadley's photographs:

Tony Hadley Photo Gallery at Photo.net

Ugh! Photography's a numbers game, too

Despite digital's ease, flexibility and accessibility, I had a lot to learn after I made the conversion from film. To my dismay, much of the learning entailed even more math than what I had to learn when I cut my chops on film photography in college. This was disappointing because of my aversion to math ever since high school algebra and geometry; I made it through college -- with a degree -- without taking a single math class. Now that sidestepping was coming back to haunt me.

Digital still required a knowledge and familiarity of numerical things such as aperture settings (f/2.8, f/4, f/8, etc.), shutter speeds (1/30, 1/60, 1/125, etc.) and focal lengths (10 millimeters, 50mm, 100mm, 300mm, etc.). It just introduced a new layer of numerical labyrinths.

One of those was important for those who could afford only the less expensive small-sensor DSLR camera bodies: something called "crop factor" and its corresponding impact on a lens' focal length, a/k/a, multiplier. Film images captured with the widely popular 35mm bodies are in 36x24 proportions, whereas frames captured by the image sensors used in manufacturing the first wave of lower-cost DSLRs -- for Canon shooters, that involves the 20D and Digital Rebel -- were in varying dimensions, but none the same as film's 36x24. My 300D, for example, shot frames at 24x18. What does that mean? I found out the hard way when ordering my first 5x7 and 8x10 prints from jpegs taken with the 300D -- and making no allowances for the crop factor. The 4x6 prints were fine; but on the 5x7 and 8x10 prints, it looked like someone had taken an ax to my precious art and whacked the tops or the sides indiscriminately. I couldn't figure out the rhyme or reason. I complained to the retailer, and to the store's credit, the salesperson patiently explained the crop factor ramifications to me.

Here's what they said: 5x7 and 8x10 prints don't translate precisely in digital because those dimensions are not multiples of 18x24, the dimensions of my 300D's images. And besides, digital print retailers base their machine settings on the old 36x24 dimensions of film. Remember, nowadays, retailers simply push film and digital image files through machines -- no man/woman at an enlarger ensuring logical cropping anymore. So if I really wanted my digital prints in those traditional 5x7 or 8x10 sizes, the responsibility was on me to convert my digital jpeg files to those dimensions first before bringing them in for prints. How? Image software on your home computer.

I rarely order 5x7s anymore, so I wasn't worried about those. It was the 8x10 prints that concerned me the most. So when I wanted them, I'd first make a copy of the original jpeg and convert that copy (or crop it) from 24x18 to 5x7 or 8x10 with editing software. When I learned my photo print retailer also offered 8x12 prints (because 8x12 is a multiple of 24x36, it required no preliminary cropping on my end), I started ordering my larger prints in that size; then, if I wanted to use it in an 8x10 picture frame, I'd just grab a scissors and make the 2 inches of trim myself, rather than have a machine do it. Lately, I've noticed a greater number of 8x12 picture frames for sale in stores, and I've been purchasing those instead of messing with scissors to make them fit in an 8x10 frame.

After going to digital, I also learned that the same 36x24 vs. 24x18 discrepancy figures into how a lens' focal length (the number etched onto the lens) really didn't accurately represent the distance I was getting when using my 300D anymore. Lens focal lengths on digital camera bodies with small sensors like my 300D actually were 1.6 times the listed distances, hence the reference to 1.6 being the crop "multiplier." This meant that my 50mm prime lens actually reflected shots taken at about 80mm. It also meant that, at its farthest "listed" distance of 300mm, my 75-300mm telephoto lens actually was giving me about 420mm worth of distance.

This turned out to be a good and bad thing. The good: For shooters who never think a lens gives them enough distance, you now got more distance for your glass.

The bad: Well, sometimes, you really want the shorter distance stated on the lens. You need that wider angle to get more subject matter into a frame at a closer distance. Even more critical is that in the case of the aforementioned telephoto lens (the 75-300mm f/4.5-6) , the maximum length now was actually about 420mm, which means it required an even faster minimum shutter speed to ensure hand-held images without blur from camera shake.

How fast? The prevailing rule is that to ensure no blur from camera shake with hand-held shots, your shutter speed should never be slower than the number equal to the lens' effective focal length. Computing that isn't hard when using a 35mm film camera (or if you can afford them, the very expensive high-end full-sensor digital bodies like the Canon Mark or 5D series). Because with those, the numbers are as plain as what you read on the lens: with a 50mm lens, the slowest shutter you should use is 1/50, or 1/60, which is the closest equivalent on most cameras). For a 100mm lens, the slowest shutter would be 1/100, or 1/125, the closest equivalent on most cameras).

However, these small-sensor cameras like the 300D are a different matter. In the example of the aforementioned telephoto lens, to figure the maximum effective focal length, you start with the listed 300mm and multiply it by the 1.6 crop factor, or about 420mm. This means to avoid camera shake blur while hand-holding the camera, you'd need to be using a shutter speed of 1/420, or 1/500, the closest equivalent on most cameras. And because you don't often have bright enough lighting conditions (certainly not indoors) to allow for shutter speeds that fast, it means that at its maximum focal length, for any light conditions other than sunshine, you'd need a tripod or monopod to use that lens successfully. A tripod is worthless for shoots where anything is moving (sports, birds in the air, kids at play, etc.), which is why many professionals, when they go to invest in lenses, won't look at anything that doesn't give them at least f/2.8 at its maximum aperture, whether it's a prime lens (one set length, e.g., 50mm f/1.8) or telephoto (variable-distance) lens, but one in which f/2.8 is available at ALL of focal lengths. This gives them more opportunity to ensure adequate exposure on the aperture end, which in turn permits them to use faster shutter speeds, thereby avoiding the blur from camera shake. In the case of Canon and Nikon, having image stability (IS/Canon) or vibration reduction (VR/Nikon) in lenses also is a big deal for professionals.

Alas, there is a trade-off for having lenses equipped with wider apertures (as low as f/2.8) and IS/VR: They are significantly more costly, bulky and heavy.