Tuesday, 25 August 2020

Osttirol Revisited - Part I

Back in July we decided that we needed a break; our May vacation plans had fallen flat and we'd been working solidly since our ski trip to Norway in February. After debating where to go, we finally decided that we'd return to Lienz in East Tyrol on the Austrian/Italian border. We'd camped there for 10 days in 2017 and felt that it warranted a second visit, particularly as the area is a very strong contender for us to settle down in in the future. Stuck between the main alpine chain and the Dolomites, this little corner of Austria is charming, a little off the beaten track and very competitively priced.

Old Lienz, the heart of East Tyrol or Osttirol || Olympus 12 mm, f/8, 1/100 s, ISO 200

The campsite was adamant that it wasn't necessary (or even possible) to make a reservation, but we were optimistic that there would be enough space for our six-person tent on the meadow next to the Tristacher See. We needn't have worried; when we arrived on the Thursday afternoon there couldn't have been more than about 20 tents and vans scattered at responsible distances over the large field. Although the campsite restaurant and bar were closed, there were plenty of places open in Lienz itself and the forecast was looking great for at least the next week.

The Region of East Tyrol

The week started off a little overcast as we revisited the hills above Sillian in the Pustertal. What did blow us away was the abundance of wild flowers, especially the alpine roses (actually a misnomer; they're azaleas). Being a little higher than the mountains than are our normal stomping ground in the northern Alps, everything was significantly further behind. They say that the temperature decreases by one degree Celsius per 100 m ascent and the extra 500+ m of elevation on the hills meant that everything was significantly behind Bavaria.

Alpine Roses above Sillian || Olympus 12 mm, f/8, 1/100 s, ISO 200

As well as revisiting some old haunts we used the week to look at some further corners of this remote region that we hadn't seen before, such as the Gailtal, which is pretty, but we were able to rule it off the list of places that we might consider for retirement - despite being very modestly priced, the corridor between Sillian and Kötschach-Mauthen is just too remote.

In the hills above Obertilliach || Olympus 15 mm, f/11, 1/100 s, ISO 200

At the Golzentipp || Olympus 7.5 mm,  f/16, 1/1250 s, ISO 200

The campsite is a couple of hundred meters above Lienz at a sheltered lake called the Tristacher See, great for a swim at the end of a hot day's hiking and free to campsite users. The walk round the lake only takes about 30 min. At the far end is a swanky hotel that didn't look like we would fit in, especially not in our outdoor camping gear.

Evening Mood at the Tristacher Lake || Olympus 20 mm, f/5.6, 1/8 s, ISO 200

The Defereggental is similarly stunning, but a tad too far from the madding crowd as well as being exceedingly steep sided - you'd hardly see the sun in the winter in this deeply cleft east-west running valley. One of the unique features of the area is that in many places, where there's no cable car it's possible to drive really high into the mountains before starting to hike. The Defereggental is one of those places and we were able to drive up to 2,000 m along a very rough logging track before abandoning the car at a small car park before heading into the mountains.

The Majestic Defereggental || Olympus 24 mm, f/5.6, 1/1250 s, ISO 200

Our hike up the strangely-named Speikboden was rewarded with a view of the Groß Venediger, one of Austria's most prominent peaks, together with a field of the eponymous violet flowers and a couple of marmots scuttling across a late snow field. One delight on the way down was a patch of wayside wild lupins at a bend in the road. This was an opportunity to put my new manual 7.5 mm 7Artisans fish-eye lens to the test. Originally bought so that I could cram more sky into my astrophotography, I've taken to using it instead for floral shots like this. You can get within a few centimeters of the flowers, allowing them to take a significant part of the picture, whilst retaining depth of field to the background setting.

Speikboden and the Großer Venediger || Olympus 7.5 mm,  f/16, 1/640 s, ISO 200

Wayside Lupins || Olympus 29 mm, f/4, 1/1250 s, ISO 200

Just outside Lienz is a gorge - the Galitzenklamm - with a number of fixed climbing routes (via ferrata or Klettersteig). After tackling one of the easier routes, the kids decided they wanted to take a crack at "Adrenalin", one of the more challenging routes. Too challenging it turned out, and so Joshua did a solo  on the route next to the water, taking time to pose for a short long-exposure shot.

The Galitzenklamm Klettersteig || Olympus 28 mm, f/13, 1 s, ISO 64

Water in the Gorge || Olympus 86 mm, f/9, 1/5 s, ISO 64

The nice thing about the gorge is that you can spend the morning there and still take in the alpine zoo at Assling, a lovely little village in the Hochpustertal and one that's definitely on our radar for later. On top of the chamoix, ibex and marmots, there's a wonderful lynx enclosure that lets you look in from above without fences as well as some delightful snowy owls.

I was sleeping!  || Olympus 300 mm, f/5.6, 1/100 s, ISO 64


Note to self: When switching from long-exposure shots in the gorge to long focal length shots of animals, it can be helpful to set the ISO back to 200, duh!

Snowy Owl || Olympus 100 mm, f/4, 1/125 s, ISO 200

Still to come: sundowner at the picturesque Dolomitenhütte, a sunny day in Matrei and a close encounter with a kestrel.


Wednesday, 29 July 2020

Feedback on the First Workshops

"Apparently, if you try to cram two years of learning into 4-6 hour 1-2-1 workshop, the participants can find it a bit too much. Who knew?"
The Old Gypsum Mill || Olympus f/5.6, 1/125 s, ISO 1250 

I’ve now run my first two workshops for volunteer guinea-pigs recruited from among my local friends on the understanding that they would give me in-depth feedback on the sessions in lieu of payment. We had two great afternoons, one hiking in the local mountains in less than perfect weather and one shooting flowers in a friend’s back garden. We had several “aha” moments as they learned things about their cameras that they didn’t know before and both have got some great shots out of the sessions. But what did I learn?

Over the last 18 months I’ve invested a lot of time in my photographic education. I’ve read books, I’ve watched a ton of videos and online courses on photography and post-processing and I’ve endeavoured to put a lot of it into practice in the field. I think that most people would agree with me when I say that I’ve come a long way photographically in that time. I’ve almost completely changed my approach to photographing and my philosophy of photography. A lot of things are now obvious that would have been a complete mystery to me even two years ago. I was an idiot to think that I could convey the significant parts of that learning in a single session, but that’s what I set out to do. Twice. In my defence, the second session was probably much better structured than the first. But I need to trim it down much further, or at least give the students more time to take each aspect of the teaching on board before progressing to the next.

Let’s take a look at the two sessions and try to assess what works and what doesn’t and look at how to build this into planning future workshops.

In the Pöllat River || Olympus f/11, 2 s, ISO 200


Session 1: In The Pöllat Gorge

The first session was held at one of my favourite local spots – the Pöllat gorge below the fabulous Neuschwanstein castle near Füssen. My student, a friend from the Munich choir that I sing with, had previously been a teacher – a huge plus for me, as this was someone who had first-hand experience of teaching methods and knew what he was talking about when it came to feedback. We’d had a chance to chat a little about photography on the way down in the car and I’d already sounded him out concerning what he wanted to learn.

The fun part about this session was that Andrew had a relatively clear idea of the images he wanted to get, but wasn’t always clear on how to achieve those images technically. This was definitely something I could help with.

Parking the car at the Tegelberg car park (much cheaper than parking in Hohenschwangau at the bottom of the castle), we trekked along the base of the mountain, the clouds lingering in the trees above us. Excellent opportunity for composition questions 1 and 2: (1) What catches your attention, and (2) what aspect of the subject do you want to emphasise or caricature? (thanks Joshua Cripps!)

Moody, Misty Forest || Olympus f/5, 1/200 s, ISO 500

Arriving at the bottom of the Pöllat gorge, I was dismayed to see that the gorgeous wooden mill race had been very badly damaged in the recent storms. I sincerely hope that they repair it using the original wood, since this has always been a complete eye-catcher and really strong element for photos here. As it was, the heavy flow was just gushing out of the broken end of the trellis into a mess of tree branches. Such a shame.

After we'd walked around the bottom of the gorge for a bit, scouting compositions, we went a few meters downstream where it was a little quieter so that we could chat about how to emphasise the water movement, leading into a discussion of long exposures and tripods. I'd established in advance that Andrew would be using the Nikon 18-55 mm kit lens and managed to source a cheap step-up ring of the right diameter so that he could use my filter system to create a series of shots with different exposures.

Shooting in the Pöllat || Huawei P30 Pro

Having had a good long session at the bottom of the gorge, we walked up through the shady forest, looking for other compositions. There are some nice shots to be had of the falls as well as some nice intimate forest landscapes - what my father calls my signature shots. The moss was particularly appealing 

Moss Micro Landscape || Olympus f/4, 1/8 s, ISO 200

At this point, I forgot a bit that I was supposed to be leading a workshop and got side-tracked by taking my own images - wrong of me I know, but too easy to do in the circumstances. In future, I'm really going to have to put my own shots in the background, unless they're to make a teaching point.

Carrying on up to the path between Neuschwanstein and the Marienbrücke, we were rewarded by a moody view over Hohenschwangau with the sun breaking through the clouds. An impossible shot for Andrew's camera, but no match for modern exposure bracketing. Once again, I was putting my own photos first. But come on, who would have said no to this:

God-Rays over Hohenschwangau || Olympus Exposure Bracketing

After waiting a while in vain to see whether the weather would provide us with anything better, we headed on up to the Marienbrücke, the bridge overlooking Neuschwanstein, to see whether the light would allow us to catch any useful shots. Andrew took quite a few from the bridge and we toyed with the concept of including some foreground in a shot in order to establish a bit of 3-dimensionality to the scene.

It was quite late by the time we got back to the car and we were both starving, so we looked for a suitable hostelry. Waiting for food, I had a chance to go through my workshop cheat-sheets with him. In my mind I had planned to shoot and then go over the theory in the hope that he would be more receptive to the concepts - a teaching style that we often use at work. In reality, it would have been helpful to look at them beforehand and then try to put some of it into practice in the field.


Session 2: A Munich Garden

For the second session I visited my friend in her garden in Munich. Because one of her primary photographic interests was flowers and because they have a beautiful flower garden, this really worked out nicely. The weather was definitely playing ball this time as well, which really helped. It had rained just before I got there, but we had a great 4 h in the garden in lovely late afternoon light, shooting anything and everything in sight.

This time we were able to sit down before we started and look at some of the concepts that help me focus on what makes a good photo. I was delighted that my friend was able to make the intuitive jumps from the things I was pointing out (more here) to compositional consequences. Once we'd got some of the basics out of the way, we were able to knuckle down to the two issues that she had highlighted approaching the workshop; exposure and focus.

Reach for the Sky || Olympus f/8, 1/250 s, ISO 200

After explaining the various ways in which cameras measure exposure and the shortcomings of assuming that everything is 50% grey, we looked around for potential examples. She has a beautiful honeysuckle growing up the side of the garage. Against the sky, most cameras will underexpose the subject to avoid an overly-bright image, leaving the subject quite dull. Exposure compensation to the rescue (once we'd found out how to in the manual).

Essence of Hydrangea || Olympus f/8, 1/40 s, ISO 200

Looking back, we should have spent a little while at least concentrating on exposure, but I was so excited with the progress that I was all for moving swiftly on to the next issue; focus. Once we figured out how to give her back the control over what the camera was focusing on we even got a chance to look at the concept of depth of field before switching over to her macro lens and fiddling about with focus magnification in a foreign camera system.

Old Wooden Chair || Olympus f/8

All in all we had a great afternoon/evening working through various technical and compositional aspects before I was gently told to stop - I'd passed on enough information and time was required to process and practice.

Lessons Learned

What Went Well

Let's start with what went well:
  • The second workshop was much better structured than the first, working through the teaching materials and having a chance to put it all into practice.
  • Knowing both locations well before the shoots was essential. Even then there were surprises, like the demolished mill race at the Pöllat gorge.
  • Both locations were good and had some 'gimme' images where you couldn't really go wrong, whether Schloss Neuschwanstein or my friends gorgeous garden.
  • Having a few toys to hand to play with worked well, such as the ND filters for the gorge and my tiny fish-eye lens as a demonstration of how aperture works.
  • Getting the students to fill out a self-assessment form (below) well in advance of the workshop so that I could prepare a session to fit their individual needs worked really well.
  • The handouts I had prepared turned out to be really good teaching aids.
  • After the first workshop we sat down and went through a handful of the best images, looking at technique and possible tips. The offer is still out on the second workshop, but, life!

Challenges

  • One of the time-consuming aspects of both workshops was becoming familiar with other peoples’ cameras. After 18 months with my Olympus I can operate it pretty much blindfolded. Previously I’d been using a Panasonic bridge camera and so had at least a working knowledge of the menu structure. My students had Nikon and Cannon cameras respectively and finding functions in the various menus took time. If students aren’t familiar with their cameras, it’s essential that they bring the manual with them. It was also challenging switching between a mirrorless camera with all of the associated ease of use and the more flighty DSLRs.
  • The weather and, more importantly, the light during the first workshop was extremely challenging. But that’s life sometimes.
  • It’s important to establish ahead of time which lenses your students are bringing to the workshop. I’m used to the flexibility of being able to choose between ultra-wide angle, long telephoto and everything in between. Students aren’t always going to be able to bring that variety to the workshop and the location needs to be planned accordingly.

What Didn’t Go So Well

  • Looking back, although the first workshop was fun, setting out without covering at least the basic theory was a mistake. I was all gung-ho for the location and thought I could explain as we went. I couldn’t.
  • After the first few shots, I also assumed that the student was doing ok and didn’t need as much help or feedback. In future I’ll have to be more proactive in checking in with them.

Looking Forward

Looking forward, I think I will have to offer either one or the other; either a photo safari or a photography workshop. It’s much easier to concentrate on teaching skills in a calmer environment with few distractions, where we can sit down, talk about the principles and then put them into action.

On the other hand, once someone has mastered the basics, it will still be fun to head out to the hills to look at how to put those skills into practice.

Fairy-Tale Neuschwanstein || Olympus f/4.5, 1/8 s, ISO 800

My Questionnaires

I've created two questionnaires, one to give me a feel for the student's needs, one for them to give me feedback on the workshop so that I can continue to improve as an instructor. I'll reproduce them here for anyone wanting to use and adapt. I've created these using Google docs, and the answers flow directly into a table. I'm a huge fan of Google docs as they allow me to access the information on the go using a variety of platforms.

Student Assessment Form

I ask a lot about my students because I really want to understand their needs and offer a tailor-made session. It also helps them to assess where they are and think a bit about the issues involved. I also ask them either in advance of - or during the session how they would define a "good" photo. Although a straightforward question, it really helps focus on the issues.







Student Feedback Form

Feeback is critical to the process of becoming a better instructor - which is a huge part of the process for me. Here's my Student Feedback Form




Sunday, 28 June 2020

In Seach of the Milky Way - From Dusk 'Til Dawn in the Allgäu

At the end of May I scouted a possible location for an astro shoot in the Allgäu mountains come next new moon. A good milky way photos lives and dies by the foreground and I wanted somewhere with a good view over the alps. The middle of June arrived and the forecast for Friday and Saturday was awful; clouds, rain, the lot. Nothing doing. The next weather window was going to be Tuesday night. To make matters worse, the initiator of the whole idea - my friend Matthias - couldn't make it as he was stuck up at work in northern Bavaria. But an old school friend who happens to live in Munich was interested enough to bite when I announced my intentions on Facebook and so Martin and I ended up heading down to Fischen im Allgäu early Tuesday evening to see what we could see. Meteorologically we were on a rising tide - there were still some clouds around but the weather was definitely clearing from the north and so we were optimistic.

The Shoot


Waiting For The Moon To Set || Huawei P30 Pro


Dusk

Driving down there were still cloud remnants lurking in all the wrong places, but the northerly wind was driving them deeper into the alps and so we weren't too concerned. We set off from the car-park in the early evening light. Normally, like most people, I spend most of my time in the mountains during the day. Unless I'm staying in one of the mountain huts, I'm generally back down in the valley for dinner. This evening's experience may get me to revisit that schedule. There's a good reason why landscape photographers choose to shoot at the ends of the day; the light quality is very different. It's softer, gentler and less blue. Watching the pastel colours changing on the Vorarlberg mountains in the gathering dusk made me start rethinking how I plan my days in the Alps.

As the Sun Goes Down || Olympus f/7.1, 1/80 s, ISO 200

It was great to see that not all of the snow had disappeared in the intervening weeks; I find the last snowfields really make a photo like this and I don't shy back from exaggerating them in post-processing like  here (above).

The Pastel Colours of Evening || Olympus f/7.1, 1/160 s, ISO 200

All the Layers || Olympus f/7.1, 1/30 s, ISO 200


Moonset

I'd promised my school chum a relatively easy hike up to the first mountain top that I'd identified. Unfortunately we didn't make it all the way and ended up about 100 m below the summit on a slight shoulder. The location was optimal for the first spectacle of the evening - the fresh new moon was due to set behind the peak above us and our location appeared to be optimal for that. My smartphone app (Sky View) was showing me where the moon should be in the sky, but for the life of me I couldn't find it. I was beginning to fret that either (a) the app was playing up, or (b) there wasn't going to be enough moon to see. As the sky darkened and I still couldn't see it Martin spotted it - why we hadn't seen it before was a complete mystery as it was so clear at this point.

Well It's Obvious Now! || Olympus f/8, 1/5 s, ISO 200


Setting Moon || Olympus 100 mm f/5.6, 0.6 s, ISO 400

Before we turned our attention to the stars that were beginning to appear in twos and threes there was one more dusk photo to grab before the technical stuff began:

When Purple Comes Out To Play || Olympus f/5.6, 40 s, ISO 200

As fun as it was to shoot the setting moon, it cost me my first milky way shots as I wasn't set up to get a good foreground photo during the blue hour that I could use to blend into the final image in post. The shot I ended up getting was ok, probably one of my better photos of the Milky Way per se, but the foreground is lacklustre. I don't know whether it would have been any better 100 m higher up either, but the lesson is that you need to be in position early, you need to get your foreground shots in in good time and you can only recon on about two good astro shots per night, one after the sun goes down and one before it rises, unless you're shooting with multiple cameras.

Collision Imminent || Olympus 300 mm f/5.6, 0.6 s, ISO 1600, Composite Image

Milky Way

The challenge with astrophography is the low light levels. You need an open aperture and relatively high ISO with a wide angle lens to get enough light to the sensor before the earth's rotation turns the star points into lines - the so-called star trails. As a rule of thumb, the maximum exposure time before this happens is 500/focal length* (400 if you're being conservative). So for my 16 mm equivalent wide angle lens, I can shoot for 25 s. In order to further increase light-sensitivity, we need to increase the ISO. Small sensor cameras (I shoot with an Olympus micro four-thirds crop sensor, technically a small sensor camera) are notorious for being sensitive to high ISO, the images tend to have a lot of unsightly noise - a random phenomenon that causes an unsightly buzz in the image. But being random, there's a solution: If you take multiple shots and then take the average of those shots, the noise is diminished. The challenge is that the software performing the calculations needs to take into account the fact that the stars are moving - if it didn't you'd end up with the trails again. All in all quite a technical feat, especially when there's a foreground involved. Fortunately the free Windows software Sequator can do all of this - it's what it was written for. It's not the most user-friendly app, but if you know what you're doing (or in my case if you know someone who knows what they're doing), it's extremely powerful. The trick seems to be not using too many of the features, but more of that below.
*25 mm equivalent, so with my micro four-thirds sensor I need to double my focal length

First Starlight - Stacked but Unprocessed || Olympus 8 mm, f/2.8, 25 s, ISO 6400, Stacked

We could just about make out the trail of the Milky Way in the Allgäu sky. From our vantage point I tried several series of shots, with and without my Haida Clear Light filter and Tiffen Fog filter and with the new 7Artisans 7.5 mm fish-eye. In the end I liked the unfiltered images through the Panasonic Leica 8-18 mm the best. The above image is stacked to reduce noise but otherwise unprocessed. The sheer clarity of the image just blows me away. The detail in the Milky Way is amazing. But I don't think this is a good Milky Way photo. It's a good photo of the Milky Way, but like I said earlier, a good Milky Way photo stands or falls by the foreground and I wasn't satisfied with what I was getting here, so after a cup of tea  and a pasty (thanks Martin, those were life-savers) I lay down for a 45 min shut-eye before heading up to the ridge, where I knew just the spot.

With Haido Clear Sky Filter, Unprocessed

7Artisans 7.5 mm Fish-eye Lens, Unprocessed

One of the greatest challenges with astro photography is finding infinity on the focus dial. Looking through the viewfinder you're confronted with an almost completely black image - finding something to focus on can be extremely difficult. If there's a bright light a couple of miles off this works relatively well, as at this distance there's effectively no focal change between 2 miles and infinity. It was quite a challenge in the dark though, and I had to hunt through the magnified viewfinder on the Olympus to locate Jupiter (bright spot in the middle of the images above) and twiddle the focus ring of the lens to render the tiny fuzzy light as tight and small as possible. Then it's shoot and hope. You can examine the images on the camera display, but you're never entirely sure whether your photo is sharp or not until you get the image on the computer screen.

Despite being pitch dark, it was easy enough to find my way by the light of my head-torch, having scouted the area less than a month before. I located the second spot relatively easily and set up the tripod again. A few ultra-high-ISO shots helped me frame the photo correctly. I also tried some low ISO long exposures with a bit of light painting so that I would have a foreground to go with it. This is a separate image that is blended with the processed astro image in post processing (see last image). This final photo here has to be my favourite image of the year so far. I didn't get a huge number of finished shots that I was happy with, but at the end of the day, if you come away with at least one, that's a win.

Milky Way Over The Allgäu || Olympus 8 mm, f/2.8, 25 s ISO 6400, Stacked

I carried on shooting for a while after this into the blue light of pre-dawn before giving up and catching a few more minutes sleep lent against my rucksack. It was a mild night with little wind and the ground was comfortable and dry beneath me, not a sound to be heard.

Birdsong and a yipping fox in the valley below alerted me to the coming dawn. By the light of the red band of cloud to the east I could just make out a small peat pond nearby that I'd just avoided in the dark. In retrospect I should have taken a lower vantage point for this shot. This is two images blended in ON1 Photo Raw, one for the sky, one for the foreground. I took the liberty of brightening the tufts of cotton grass to emphasise them in the pre-dawn light.

Mountain Tarn at Dawn || Olympus f/5.6, 1/6 s, ISO 200

Then it was down to find Martin and head down to the car. I found him warming himself over his camping stove and ready to return to the valley. As I waited for him to pack his things there was time for one last shot of the sun rising on the mountain escarpment opposite us. 

The Red Light Of Dawn || Olympus f/5.6, 1/30 s, ISO 200

Processing the Images

If you're not interested in the nitty-gritty of processing astro photography you can probably stop reading here and scan to the last images. It's very easy to over-process Milky Way photos: I spent two evenings working on this last shot only to have Sharon (correctly) tell me that it was too speckled and she didn't like the foreground. I've left this technical bit to the end for my techie friends who'll be interested in this stuff (hi Matthias!). 

Before the images can be 'stacked' (averaged), they need to be in tiff format. ON1 Photo Raw, my post-processing software can export tiffs, but they're the wrong format for my stacking software, Sequator. The images have to be opened in Olympus Workspace and exported as tiffs from there. For each image I used 10 star images and two control images with the lens cap on (lights and darks respectively).

Crop of main image


 

Unprocessed image OOCStacked in Sequator
10 Star images, 2 Noise images (with lens cap on), Align stars, Freeze ground, Sky region: Partial, otherwise all default settings
Processed in ON1 Photo Raw 2020
Develop:
Contrast +24, Highlights +18, Midtones +15, Shadows -20, Whites +45, Temperature +40, Tint -3
Effects:
Sharpening, Noise Reduction (Moderate), Tone Enhancer (Shadows Lighter on foreground; Midtone Contrast Boost, 50%), LUTs (1983, 35%), Sunshine (Sunglow, 50%), Curves (mild S-curve), Dynamic contrast on Milky Way


I also tried a blend of my favourite image with the light-painted foreground in ON1 Photo Raw. It's not perfect as I seem to have adjusted the camera between frames and had to stretch the resulting images to fit. I'd be interested to hear which image you prefer, this one with more detail in the foreground trees, or the original "Milky Way Over The Allgäu" above. My jury is still out on this one.

Milky Way Over The Allgäu II || Olympus 8 mm, f/2.8, 25 s ISO 6400, Stacked and Blended


Sunday, 14 June 2020

I Can Slow Down Time, What's Your Superpower?

A while back I talked about some differences between our eyes and cameras, focusing primarily on things that our eyes can do but our cameras can't (When What You See Is Not What You Get). But there are also some things that our cameras can do that our eyes can't. One of these is slowing down time. Well, actually it's accumulating time. Ok, it's not accumulating time, it's accumulating light over a longer period of time, but you get the idea. Sometimes a slow shutter speed can be a real hindrance, such as when we're trying to take a photo of something that's moving quickly, or we're using a telephoto lens (or both - photographing birds in flight, for example). But sometimes, just sometimes, it can give rise to really cool effects to emphasise movement.

Between a Rock and a Soft Space || Olympus f/20, 5 s, ISO 200

Probably the most common use of this effect is emphasising movement in water, either in waves or in a waterfall. Take a high-speed photo of a waterfall and you'll freeze the motion, giving you a glassy image (which can also be appealing).

Glassy Water || Olympus f/4, 1/800 s, ISO 1600

Slow things down to a fraction of a second and you'll get a real sense of movement in the scene. Even 1/5 s is enough to really convey what's going on such as with this waterfall above Saas Fee in Switzerland. I love the contrast between the rocks and the water in shots like this - solidity and motion. 

In the Swiss Alps || Olympus F/22, 1/6 s, ISO 100

You can easily apply the same principle to waves on the sea, such as in this Boxing Day photo taken in Lyme Regis on the English south coast. My portfolio of seascapes is very limited, but this one taken in the later afternoon light works for me. The wave crashing into the sea wall is clearly in motion, as is the foam soaking back through the pebbles towards the sea.

Waves at Lyme Regis || Olympus f/22, 1/2 s, ISO 80

If you want to go full-on motion blur, giving you that creamy, foggy appearance in the water you'll need to further increase the exposure time to multiple seconds.

At the Stuiben Falls || Olympus, f/22, 5 s, ISO 64

But how do you take an otherwise sharp multi-second photo? There are essentially two challenges; (I) reducing the amount of light entering the camera to a sufficient level to allow a long exposure in the first place, and (II) stabilising the camera so that the rest of the picture isn't blurred.

Reducing the Light

Why do we need to reduce the amount of light entering the camera, and how do we achieve this?

Why Do We Reduce Light? There are two physical limits in our cameras to the amount of light being registered by the sensor; the size of the aperture (the F-stop) and the sensitivity of the sensor (ISO). Most lenses are restricted to a minimum (smallest) aperture of about F/22 and most cameras to a minimum ISO of somewhere between 50-100. On a bright sunny day, even F/22 and ISO 50 aren't sufficient to achieve an exposure time close to 1 s. The image will be completely over-exposed - simply put too much light has entered the camera, plus there are good reasons not to push either the aperture or the ISO this far; at F/22 most lenses exhibit sharpness-limiting levels of diffraction and at low ISO the camera sensor's ability to distinguish between the brightest and darkest aspects of a scene (the dynamic range) is slightly diminished. So in order to get a decent image, we need to reduce the amount of light hitting the sensor.

Photography 101: Include a Pretty Girl in a Yellow Coat || Olympus f/4, 1/5 s, ISO 200

How Do We Reduce Light? Essentially there's only one way to do this; sticking a piece of darkened glass in front of the camera lens There is another way, but that goes beyond the scope of this article. Most of us are familiar with polarising filters for cameras and these certainly help to reduce the light in certain circumstances, but are limited to somewhere between 1 and 2 stops. What's a stop of light?, I hear you ask. A stop in camera-speak is a doubling (or halving) of the exposure. So a polarising filter will generally allow you to double or quadruple the exposure time, say from 1/10 s to 1/5 s - which really isn't much at all. You'd hardly see the difference between the two.

The next easiest option is a variable neutral density (ND) filter. Have you ever tilted your head whilst wearing polarised sunglasses and seen a screen go dark? That's probably because the screen you're looking at is also polarised. As long as both polarised layers are aligned, no effect is visible, but as soon as the two layers become misaligned, a decreasing amount of light passes through both layers. This is how variable ND filters work. They have two polarised layers that can be turned independently meaning that you can control how dark the filter is. Although convenient, there are downsides to using variable ND filters. If you were to take a photo of a perfectly uniform surface through one of these filters, the resulting image would in all likelihood look quite blotchy because the filter effect is normally uneven. You wouldn't want to use this filter to shoot blue sky, for example. But it can work for irregular images such as waterfalls.

Beyond that you're looking at fixed ND filters, darkened glass that reduce the amount of light without affecting the colour of the light. These can either be attached directly to the lens via a screw thread or using a special filter attachment system. The darkest commonly available ND filter, generally referred to as the Super Stopper, reduces light by 15 stops 😲.

Such filters can even tame wavy lakes to add a sense of calm to what would otherwise have been a very unsettled image. On this windy late November morning at the Hopfensee there were a lot of waves and they would have detracted from the sense of peace I was hoping for with this image.

Dawn at the Hopfensee || Olympus f/11, 8 s, ISO 64


Stabilising the Camera

The rule of thumb is that the maximum length of time the average person can hold a camera before camera shake renders the picture unacceptably blurry is 1/focal length in mm. Sounds technical, but the focal length is essentially the amount of zoom you're using. Assuming that the standard lens has a focal length of 50 mm (commonly referred to as "a 50 mm lens"), then the accepted maximal exposure is 1/50 s. If you're using a wider-angle lens, such as a 20 mm lens then that time decreases to 1/20 s. If you're using a 300 mm telephoto, then the maximal exposure is around 1/300 s, quite fast and much too quick to smooth out any desired motion blur.

There are two ways to achieve stabilisation; either in-camera image stabilisation (whether camera body or lens) or camera immobilisation (e.g. a tripod).

Image Stabilisation When I was looking for a new camera at the beginning of 2019, one of the features that caught my eye was the excellent image stabilisation capabilities of the Olympus cameras. My E-M1 Mk II boasts a massive 5.5 stops of image stabilisation, even more in combination with certain lenses. What's a stop of image stabilisation? The same as a stop of light. Going back to the 50 mm lens, we mentioned above, I can double (or is it halve?) the exposure 5½ times from 1/50 s to 1/25→1/12.5→1/6.25→1/3.125→ >1/1.56 s - so about a second. 

Olympus' image stabilisation with the newest generation of cameras - the E-M1X and the E-M1 Mk III  (💗) is rated at 7.5 stops with certain lenses - turning 1/50 s to 3.6 s - practically an eternity in camera terms. This is pretty much getting to the physical limit for in-camera image stabilisation, which I am reliably informed is limited by the earth's rotation! This is all done using a free floating image sensor chip which is held in place using magnets.

Anyway, enough technical details and Olympus fanboy-ism, suffice to say that most modern cameras come with a certain degree of image stabilisation, allowing you to break the 1/focal length rule.

Don't Just Rely on the Effect - Use Composition Rules || Olympus f/6.3, 1 s, ISO 200

Camera Immobilisation The other way to prevent camera blur of course is to immobilise the camera itself. Classically this is done with a tripod, though we don't have to limit ourselves to this option. In an emergency, anything stable will do, a rock, the crook of  a tree, a rucksack or a beanbag. Anything that will prevent your camera from moving. They say that you should always turn your image stabilisation off when using any form of camera immobilisation. Apparently, the camera expects a certain amount of user shake and gets confused when this is absent. In practice, half the time I forget to turn off image stabilisation anyway and I can't say that I've noticed a difference.

For this to work, the surface that your tripod is resting on has to be stable too. There are a couple of gorges near where I live that have metal bridges spanning the river below. These bridges start to swing noticeably as soon as anyone starts walking along them, so sometimes a little patience is required.

Just know that you'll seldom be alone at spots like the Hopfensee. Matthias and I ran into a photo workshop later the same day as above. Still, you don't have to include the other photographers in the image.
 

So that's the basics of camera immobilisation. Choosing the right tripod is also a matter of taste and usually ends up being a compromise between weight, cost and stability. Don't skimp too much though as you will ultimately regret it. I'm currently running two tripods; my main one is a doughty Tiltall TC-254 which is currently sporting a Benro GD3WH geared head. I also have a lighter Rollei Compact Traveller for when I want to cut down on weight.

Later the Same Day || Olympus f/11 8 s, ISO 64


How Much Motion Blur?

How long is a piece of string? Honestly, there's no correct answer to this question, it's purely a matter of taste and depends a lot on whether you want to simply convey a sense of motion, in which case you can get away with exposures of around 1/5 s, or whether you want to give your waterfall that silky fog appearance, in which case you're going to need exposure times of at least a couple of seconds.