Update:

Obviously, losing my computer and a lot of my equipment has pushed the schedule of my “works in progress”.  Some of the tasks cannot be done before I get replacement equipment. But, I’ll get these stories done. In addition, I’ve started playing with the Topaz line of filters; I like them a lot and will be writing about them, too. And, finally, I expect to find a lot of stuff at Photoshop World that will stimulate posts. Sorry, for the delay on the promised articles — but they will be done — soon, I hope.

Off Camera Flash: Learning to Love Nikon’s iTTL System

I’ve run into a major detour in an article I’m writing about learning to trust and use Nikon’s i-TTL (intelligent Through-The-Lens flash system). Currently the article is code named “Hot Flashes”. Why? No, it has nothing to do with menopause. It seems that like many of you, I’ve run into some serious overheating/shut off problems with my new Nikon SB900 flash that I’m using as a “commander” flash on my D3. Before writing the broader article about learning to trust and love iTTL (which I do),  I want to get to the bottom of the overheating issue.

Is it operator error? Are we making mistakes using our flashes?

Is the speedlight “over engineered” and shutting off prematurely? Should we disable the cut out function?

Or, is it really overheating? If so, is it a hardware problem — one that remains unfixed by Nikon’s firmware update? Or are there external factors such as batteries that are either influencing or causing the problems?

My sense is that it is a combination of all of the above, made worse by people who shoot “too fast” (whatever that is),  and I hope to sort some of this out, soon.

There have been a lot of fingers pointed at batteries — claiming using the wrong ones is causing the heat build up.

Eugene Thomas, of Thomas Distributing, a one stop shop for all things battery, generously took a lot of time to explain “Battery 101″ to me. Using what I learned,  I’m going to run some battery tests —  Sanyo Eneloops v. the different brands of NiMh batteries I’m now using. Reader reports strongly favor the Eneloops; there is a body of users who claim that they help minimize SB900 overheating. And, the Eneloops can spend a lot more time on the shelf or in the camera bag without discharging.

I’m also trying to find people at Nikon who will share their wisdom and advice on the subject.

You, too, can contribute. I’d love to know your experiences and get your ideas as to what’s going on and how you’ve solved it. I started a very productive thread on one of my favorite websites, Nikonians. You can read it here. If you have ideas or answers, I’d love to know them before I write the article. Please use the contact section of this site to send them to me.

The SB900 is a great flash with many advanced features. I look forward to completing the article in which it plays a major role.

Little Things Enable Big Things

As I struggle to gain some traction on the “overheating issue” I do want to share with you some accessories that I’ve been using to make my off camera flash work more productive. There’s no reason for you to have to wait for these tips — which I’ll write about, in more depth, in the iTTL article.

From Joe McNally, and his buddy Syl Arena, and from my friends at TriCoast Photography, I’ve learned the importance of precisely placing the off camera flash and its modifier. When we work alone, most of us put the units on light stands or clamp them somewhere.

However, if we have an assistant, there is a better, more precise way, “the human, brain driven light stand”. Simply stated, we put the flash in the hands of an assistant and let him or her aim it where we want it. “Um, can you raise it up a bit?” “Now, a little more toward the side”. Instant control without having to put down the camera or move from the shooting spot.

But what do we do if we want the light placed where our human stand cannot reach? We put it on an arm extension — often known as a stick. Back on the farm, I learned to attach all kinds of things together with bailing twine and duct tape (known in our industry as gaffer’s tape.) The farm solutions worked, but they were not elegant.

So, leave it to Syl, Joe, TriCoast and a host of other people to figure out a more elegant solution for those who do not wander around in bib overalls with pockets full of twine.

Enter the “painters poll” — that extendable pole, upon which painters put rollers — used to reach places beyond arm length.

The poles are easy to find — just go to any Home Depot, Lowes, or paint supply store. Try them out — there are a lot of varieties. I chose the pole Joe and Syl use, a Shur-Line that extends from 4-9 feet. The thing I like most about it is that it has a trigger locking system that is both adjustable and solid.

But, because they were made for painters, not photographers, they share one characteristic. They have a “male” threaded fitting on the end. Most are 3/4×5 (the shaft is 3/4″ and there are 5 threads per inch); this is a wide, coarse thread — made for the threads on the female end of a paint roller.

So, how do we attach our flashes to the pole? Gaffers tape would work — but it is ugly.

The solution? The Kacey Pole Adapter sold by Midwest Photo Exchange. The Kacey threads onto the pole and converts the end to a 5/8 baby pin — the same pin we find on our light stands. Once the adaptor is in place, we can put our flash fixtures on it — just as we would on a stand specifically made for photography.

One IMPORTANT NOTE about mounting the Kacey on the painter’s stick — You must use a very strong thread locking compound like LocTite. If you don’t, the weight of the fixtures on the end will cause the Kacey to turn and loosen up because the threads on the pole are so coarse that they will give way easily. Keeping the threads from slipping is not difficult to do. I put #271 Red LocTite on the threads, mounted the Kacey and tightened it AND let it dry for 24 hours. I have a rock solid fitting that does not slip — even at extreme angles. (You can get small tubes of Loc-Tite at your hardware or auto parts store.)

In picking a pole and mounting the Kacey, think of one thing — you have some very valuable equipment on the end of that pole that you do not want to drop on someone’s head. That’s why you have to make sure you have a very solid connection between the Kacey and the pole and between the lights and the Kacey.

So, what do I put on the end of my pole? Either a single Speedlight or one of my favorite fixtures, the Photoflex DualFlash Adapter Kit. Here’s what I like most about the Photoflex — it is a turn-key operation. It comes with an “angle mount” with built in umbrella holder. It will take two Speedlights (actually 3 if you put one behind the pole) or two Speedlights and 2 Pocket Wizards should you choose to use them. Everything about the DualFlash is well thought out. A very nice touch is the way the flashes attach to the hot shoes; this is a precision fit mechanism AND there is a gap under the flash so there is no danger that the pins will touch metal (which can short out the flash.)

If I want to diffuse the flash, the bracket will let me mount one of my Creative Light shoot-through umbrellas, or a Matthews Road Rags diffusion panel.

One note about my dual flash set up: Le’t not get confused. If we are shooting iTTL, in Aperture Priority mode, the way Joe McNally usually shoots, using two Speedlights does not double the amount of flash. It gives you a bigger source of flash, will recycle more quickly, and may save battery power, but it does not double the output of the flash. Why? Let’s say we are shooting Aperture Priority at f/8. In iTTL, the camera is reading the light and telling the strobes to put out just enough flash to give a proper exposure at f/8. The amount of flash needed is constant. Whether we use one, two or three strobes, the subject only needs so much light. But, if you are shooting the flashes in their manual mode, not controlled by iTTL, that is a different matter. I’ll write more on this when I get around to writing my iTTL article.

Note: that fitting at the end of the pole — the one with the knurled handle — is the Kacey. Without it, none of this would be easy.

Finally, I’ve added my own wrinkle to the McNally/Arena set up: I bought a fish fighting belt to give to whomever is helping me by holding the pole. Why? Because the thing gets heavy. The more you put on the end, and  the more so as you extend it out, the heavier it gets; Jen tells me it has something to do with the law of “torque”. Take that sucker out 9 feet with a couple of strobes on it and the leverage  will make a strong person weak. After struggling with this, myself, I came up with a solution.

When I fished saltwater, as a small kid, we wore belts with little pockets on them. We stuck the rod ends into the pockets and gained control of the heavy load — rod, reel, and monster fish. So, I bought what is known as a “fish fighting belt”. Here’s how it works with the pole.

I’ll be back with the complete discussion of iTTL, soon.

Self-Assignment: Shooting What’s Around Me and Right Under My Nose

I’m a pretty serious fisherman. I’ve fished tournaments and have been a guide. Most of my fishing has been done at on a lake on which I have a cottage in the Northwoods of Wisconsin. What does this have to do with photography? You’ll see.

For the first several years I fished my lake, I’d get in my boat and go to the other side of the lake. Or, to the bays far to the south of me. Or the shore far to the north. In fact, for many years, I never fished in front of my own cottage and dock.

Why? Because, somehow, I had convinced myself that I had to go far away to get find the best places to fish.

Until, one day, I decided not to. I moved my boat 40 feet into the lake, held position with my trolling motor, and fished a weed bed that is directly in front of my cottage and one that I’d looked at for all the years I’d been there. Bang. A fish. And, another. And, another. Right in front of my cottage, I had found one of the hottest walleye spots on the lake. Over the years, I’ve caught and released several big musky from the same weed bed. And, after moving to Texas and learning how to “worm” — I took the technique up to Wisconsin and caught and released some great small mouth bass — in the same weeds.

These days, I still cross the lake to fish — partly because I like to cross the lake. But, I am also very aware of what’s around my home base.

Why am I writing about this now? Because of an experience I had a few days ago.

I left my studio, with my good friend and excellent photographer, Ed Bensen, in the car. Ed had seen a restored ’32 Ford pick up in a lot on a road I often travel — within minutes of my studio. I am so into photographing cars that I had to find this truck and its owner to see if he or she would let me shoot it.

As we were passing buildings I’ve passed at least a hundred times, on a whim,  I turned into one about which I had been curious, but had never stopped to explore. Eureka — a funky, covered courtyard with bright colors, stone work, odd sculptures, skylights that were diffusing the sun — a very different and interesting place to shoot. I’ve got the name of the owner and I’ll be calling to get permission to shoot there.

Invigorated by the find, knowing how Columbus must have felt, we got back into the car in search of the Red Truck.

But, on another whim, I turned off the road I “knew so well” but obviously had never looked at, and made a right turn onto a side street. Bang. Weathered metal buildings of once bright colors. Period architecture — a lot of it from the 30′s and 40′s (how it survived the gentrification of the area I don’t know, but I do feel its days are numbered). The exact types of locations I’ve wanted for a shoot. In my head, I’ve got a self-assignment I call “juxtapositions” — the mixing of elegant fashion and decaying industrial sites. Within a mile or so of my studio, I found a bunch of perfect locations.

My plan? To go back to the area to get permission from the owners to shoot on their property. When I’ve completed the project, I’ll write it up.

But, until then, I’m going to make sure to look around wherever I am, to really open my creative eyes. I’m not going to cross the lake until I’ve “fished my side”. Beauty is all around us. We just have to open our eyes to see it.

(Copyright: PrairieFire Productions/Stephen J. Herzberg — 2010)

The basic concept was simple — to show that contrary to what glossy magazines and movies may tell us, beauty does not necessarily bring happiness. And, that for some, external beauty can be a trap because it blinds many an eye to the internal picture that really defines who we are.

I had been carrying the concept around for quite a while. It was in my “self assignment” list, a notebook I keep with ideas for shoots. I first started focusing on giving myself assignments while attending Photoshop World. During The Art of Digital presentation, I saw many of the world’s great photographers showing the results of their ventures into uncharted waters. I realized then that in order to grow I had to challenge myself to go off the beaten path to create images that were not a part of my every day creative life. For me, everything starts with a “story”. So, in my notebook, I started to outline a bunch of different shoots — some stories stimulated by moods, others by music, the news or whatever was running through my my head. And, I waited for the ideas to ripen.

A few key fortuitous events pushed this concept to fruitiion.

First, was an episode of American Idol — the only episode of that show I’ve ever watched. It was on a disk of shows I was watching as an Emmy voter. Anyway, one of the finalists, Adam Lambert, sang a song, Mad World, (written by Roland Orzabal.) Dark. Very dark. I was totally blown away. One line haunted me:

I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad, the dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had.

I could not get that song out of my head.

And, then, I met model Stephanie Vostry. She came to my studio to model for one of my students, Tom Folger. During a break, I was telling Tom about how I was in the final conceptual stages of my “No More Pretty Pictures” project and that soon I’d start looking for a model brave enough to shoot it. Stephanie, who had heard the conversation jumped right in, and said something like,  ”I’ll do it. I want to do it. I’ve been trying to get a photographer to shoot something like that …  but no one will. All they want is pretty pictures.”

I could not have found a better partner.

The Plan

For a week or so, in a series of emails, texts and occasional phone calls, we started to develop our story for the shoot. I had Stephanie listen to Mad World. As we started to trust each other — trust is the essential component in a shoot like this, one that cuts to raw emotions and exposes vulnerability (on both sides of the camera) — a plan was set in place.

Stephanie planned her wardrobe, make up and props. And, she set out to get her head in the right place for the shoot.

I had a “story” locked in my mind. So, I focused on the technical side, the set and lighting patterns I would use to capture it.

My technical plan was simple: In my mind, the story was that the model was trapped or cornered by her beauty. So, I decided to shoot into one of the corners of my camera room. I had two choices — an 18% gray corner, or a corner formed by two of my faux brick walls.

The best light for the shoot? My Profoto Ring Flash. It would give me the coverage and edge that I wanted — a somewhat hard and stark look but with a funky shadow on the backdrop. No soft, wraparound, flattering light here. I wanted a hard look at a troubled subject. And, I anticipated a very fluid situation. None of the “pose it, light it, shoot it” syndrome. Most important — with the Ring Flash surrounding my lens, I knew that no matter where the shoot took us, the light would be in the right place.

Setting Up

When Stephanie and Tom arrived (I had asked him to assist me) my dark side was in full force. There were no happy “Hello’s”. There was no cordial conversation. Stephanie, too, was in her game day head.

Stephanie -- Getting Her Head Into the Shoot

First task — finalize the set. I had Stephanie sit, quietly in each of the corners. We both agree that the brick corner felt “better”.

To set the mood, I started a loop of Mad World, the Gary Jules version. (Although one does not need an ASCAP license for the “non-commercial” use of music, I ordered one just to stand in solidarity with other artists who are trying to protect their creative rights.)

I almost never shoot with music, I prefer to talk with my models — explain what I’m doing and what I want. But, that day,  we never turned that loop off. For an hour and a half, Mad World played over and over.

I let Stephanie sit there, lost in her own thoughts for quite a while.

Quietly, Tom and I set up for the shoot.

In a while, on her own, Stephanie got up, when into the dressing room, and got ready.

The Shoot

Without doubt, this was the most intense photo-shoot of my life. And, I have Stephanie to thank for that. She brought her “A” game. She left it all in the camera room. There was absolutely nothing held back. Stephanie’s emotions were real — drawn from deep inside her young life — nothing hidden, nothing masked. My job was to capture it. And, I did my best.

From the moment she stepped on set, it was clear that Stephanie got it. The theme was No More Pretty Pictures and she wasn’t going to pull back one bit from showing the vulnerability, suffering and pain that was below her beautiful surface.

She started out standing. Arms full of a wine bottle and pill containers — symbols of the lengths to which people go to mask over their inner feelings. (See the shot above.)

Tom took a quick meter reading for me and we did our first and only adjustment of the Profoto D4 Generator that was powering the Ring Flash; I wanted to shoot at 5.6 so we set it there. (I was shooting my D3, with a prime lens, 85mm f1.8; truth be told, it’s a little difficult to use a zoom lens and Ring Flash at the same time; I’ve done it, but didn’t want to add another layer of difficulty to the challenging conditions of this shoot.)

Slowly, without saying a word, as Stephanie became more “despondent” she began a slow “slide” to the floor. I kept shooting. No break. No new set up. I just tried to stay with her. Within several minutes, she was on the floor — and so was I, lying on my stomach, trying to keep her in frame and lit correctly.

One thing about shooting the Ring Flash: With set lights, the distance to the subject remains somewhat constant and it does not matter where the photographer takes the camera. If the light is 8′ from the subject and the meter says 5.6, you shoot at 5.6 whether you are 4′ from the subject or 8′; the only time you need to re-meter is when the distance between the subject and the light changes.

But, the way I was shooting the Ring Flash, mounted around my lens, it did not remain a constant distance from Stephanie. If she moved, I moved. And, when I moved, the light moved with me. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was trying to pay attention to the distance between Stephanie and the light. When conscious that we were no longer in the same spatial relationship, I’d adjust the Aperture setting to compensate for whether I was farther away (wider aperture because less light was hitting her) or closer (smaller aperture because more light was hitting her.) But, I’d be lying if I said I did it right. After the shoot, when looking at the metadata, I realized that several times I turned the wrong wheel on the Nikon and made a meaningless adjustment to the shutter speed (meaningless because in a situation like this, the Shutter speed controls the ambient light to the sensor which was not significant; this shoot was all about the Ring Flash and the amount of the light from it to hit the sensor was controlled by the Aperture.) Brain farts not withstanding, because I was shooting RAW, there was no real problem created by being slightly off on some of the frames.

After what seemed like forever, we took a break. We put some images up on the computer — just to make sure we were getting what we wanted. We were. There were a couple of quick smiles, but the dark mood remained. Stephanie had a couple of things she wanted to try. So, back on set we went. And, we kept shooting.  As soon as I can, I’ll edit more of the images and post them in a portfolio on this site.

And, then, it was over.

Well sort of.

I was completely worn out. Flat beyond belief.

The other day, Tom told me that he left depressed and stayed depressed for a day.

Stephanie? Having gone through a profoundly cathartic session, she was the most upbeat of the three of us. And, as the days passed, she felt better and better about what we had done. And, so did I.

In many ways, this shoot meant a lot to both of us. To me, it was the first of my self-assignments to go through the full process. And, I think this really put Stephanie on solid footing as a model. Before this shoot, she had had at most three other studio experiences — none of which challenged her to be anything other than her pretty self. This was, in many ways, the coming out party for a very strong model.

But Wait! There’s More! — The Aftermath

As profound and interesting as the shoot was, in many ways, the aftermath was more interesting.

These images provoked very different responses.

Stephanie was so proud of her work that she put one of the pictures up as her “avatar” on her Model Mayhem site. And, she left it there for quite a while. The traffic to her site fell. People wanted pretty avatars. Stephanie is strong and was going to leave it there. But, I counseled her to switch it out, and she did. More bookings followed.

My friends had mixed reactions.

Many felt that these images were some of the best work I’ve ever done.

But, many more were “scared” by them. Scared. Really afraid of the work.

Right after this shoot, one of my software sponsors sent a letter asking if I had some images that they might use at trade shows or in ads to demonstrate their product. Being the wise ass that I am, I sent some of these images. The truth be told, their filters had been critical in the post-production process. With very good humor, they told me that these were not exactly the types of pictures for which they were looking. I’ll stand my ground. One of these images was made by the simple application of one of their filters. But, I can see how these images might not help sell their products.

Hanson Fong was also among those who were scared. I sent him these pictures of Stephanie to let him know who would be modeling for him during his “Busman’s Holiday”. His exact words “She scares me.” But, if you haven’t already done it, read the article and look at the images that he shot. The “pretty” Stephanie shines and Hanson brought out the best in her.

The best part of this for me? I’ve found a fierce model who I can trust. Together, we are going to take on some more topics from each of our “self assignment” lists.

And Even More!

People often ask me what I mean when I say “I always start with a story” — no matter the shoot, be it a simple portrait or an editorial piece, I always start with a story.

What that means, to me, is that I have a message that I want to convey with images. I don’t wait until my clients come into the studio — I plan ahead how to best capture what they want and how to deliver their messages. The first step is almost always a “get to know each other session”. I try not to shoot someone with whom I’ve not met previously — even if the meeting is by phone. Because some of my shoots are intense, I really need to start working on developing trust and comfort before the day of the shoot.

And, I plan like crazy. I want the model to know the story — to contribute to how we tell it, to be sure it’s a story he or she wants told, and to understand what we will use for a set, wardrobe, make up, and props. Often, I’ll do drawings ( stick men, I can’t draw a lick). And, I’ll always have an initial lighting plan in mind; usually, if the shoot is complex,  I set up and test the lights to make sure they will do what I think is needed a day or so before the shoot.

On the day of the shoot, I start with a “team meeting”. Whoever is involved — model, grip, MUA — whoever. We discuss what we are going to do and I get input from all before we start.

And, then we shoot — and more likely than not, at some point after we’ve got the initial vision in the computer, we go off road and see what we can find.

People talk about “happy accidents” —  amazing shots that just “show up” unexpected. I see this a bit differently. I have a good friend who is one of America’s best trial lawyers. He’s fond of saying, “Isn’t it funny how the people who are the luckiest are the people who are the best prepared.” Most “happy accidents” are the result of hard work and planning.

With all of that in mind, I’m including a video from a great photographer/story teller — Jensen Walker. The video probably does a better job than I just did in explaining what it means to go into the shoot with a story plan.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=3UiBB7DVJvo

Update: Just A Little Bit More

In response to some email requests,  I’ve put some more pictures from this shoot on the site. You can find them here.

Unfortunately, I’m still wrestling with the plug-in that creates these galleries. It tends to distort some images and take away the descriptions from others. Some of the posts are different versions of the same shot; I put them in to highlight some post-production options — especially two filters from Nik, the Bleach Bypass from their Color Efex Pro series and the black and white conversions from their Silver Efex Pro software. (If you hover your mouse over the thumbnail you should get a one line description of what I did in processing each image.)

(Copyright: PrairieFire Productions/Stephen J. Herzberg — 2009)

How did it happen? It called to me. The moment I saw it in a Matthews catalog, it called to me. All I could hear were the paraphrased words from a great Heart song:

You don’t have to love me yet,

Let’s get high a while,

But try to understand

Try to understand,

Try try try to understand

I’m a Magic Stand, Ohhhh, yea. I’m a Magic Stand.

Magic Man: Written by Ann and Nancy Wilson (1976)

Uh, the last line is what I heard, not what the Wilson sisters wrote. And, by the way, in my mind the second line is not a drug reference —  it’s all about a light stand that extends way up, as high as 12.5 feet.

How do you write about a light stand. I decided not to.

Instead, I decided to make a down and dirty video clip to both show the Magic Stand and give some ideas about how to use it.

In this clip, I show how I use the Magic Stand to create one of my favorite lighting set ups — the Paramount or Butterfly lighting pattern — I use quite often. And, in the clip I put in a special tip that I find very useful when working alone, which is almost all of the time.

The video was shot on my new Kodak Zi8 pocket video camera by my good friend, photographer Ed Bensen and features, in a cameo appearance, model Stephanie Vostry.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=bT0uoVIuFwY

I think that in cases like this, pictures are worth thousands of words and plan to do some more of these videos. I don’t want to create monsters that take a long time to plan, shoot and edit — so I plan to stick with this format for a while — with one change, I’ll get a clip on mic to improve the sound.

What do you think? You can use the Contact tab on the home page to send comments and suggestions.

(Copyright: PrairieFire Productions/Stephen J. Herzberg — 2009)