John Muir once wrote, "When we
try to pick out anything by itself, we find that it is bound fast by a thousand
invisible cords that cannot be broken to everything else in the universe."
My aim as a nature photographer is to illustrate that concept.
Elephant in its natural habitat |
There are various ways to do that.
One is to photograph wild animals in their natural habitat, to show how they
interact with and are interdependent with the other animals and plants around
them. A single still photograph doesn't necessarily
show the interaction and interdependence that connect things. Some verbal
explanation is still needed, or a series of photos. I like to do this with
narrated slide presentations.
Do you feel a connection? |
More often, I try to close in on my
wildlife subjects, creating intimate portraits, or, to use Muir's phrase,
"pick out (something) by itself..." In this case, of course, the
invisible cords are indeed invisible, the animal is out of context and not
bound to anything.
Or is it?
Ansel Adams once answered critics
who complained about the absence of people in his photographs by saying "There
are always two people in every picture: the photographer and the viewer."
This is the more important bond
that I think most nature photographers are trying to establish. The
photographer already has the connection; that's why he makes the photo. This is
the emphasis of miksang orcontemplative photography, in
which photography becomes a meditative practice by making the photographer
aware that there is an indistinct line between observer and observed. I
attended a miksang workshop recently
that helped me understand "true perception" as a necessary skill for
any photography. Some of the images from this practice are stunningly
beautiful, to be sure, but contemplative photography is like journaling, good
practice, but not necessarily meant to be shared.
How does this make you feel? |
When we do share a photograph we
aim to help the viewer discover an emotion. In the case of wildlife
photography, this emotion might be how the viewer feels about the animal, based
on his perception of what the animal is doing, thinking or capable of. Or the
viewer may feel an emotion that she at least imagines she has in common with
the animal being photographed.
This can lead us to commit the
crime of anthropomorphism. We might show a particular image because we are
confident that the viewer will imagine that the animal is feeling dignified or
silly or sad, when there is really no way to know what, if anything, the animal
was feeling at the moment the shutter opened.
I personally do not subscribe to
the purely scientific view that animals are incapable of emotions or thoughts.
Anyone who has experienced the unconditional love of a dog, or the studied indifference of a pet cat knows
that these animals think and feel. Many wild animals display social structure,
teamwork, compassion, playfulness, and the ability to communicate and to learn
that seem to go well beyond instinct.
What is he thinking? |
I also do not think that you can
necessarily tell what an animal is thinking or feeling by looking at its face
or its eyes. This is especially true of fish, which seem to be very expressive,
but which actually have no facial muscles, and therefore no way to project any
emotions even if they have them.
But we want them to have emotions,
so when we see an image of an animal that seems to be cute or adorable or
pathetic, we tend to feel something, too, at the emotional or heart level. We
feel connected to the animal, and that's okay, because we are.
And that's the point. As a
photographer, I want the viewer to feel the connection that already exists, as
Muir said, even if you don't actually understand what is going on behind the
animal's eyes. When you connect at the heart level that way, you don't have to
understand anything. You just have to feel it.
When you view someone's
photographs, you are looking through their window on the world. But if you see
an image that really moves you, that makes you feel that connection at the
heart level, you are actually looking into a mirror. What you see is you.
I hope as you look at the
photographs on my Web page, or any photos that you like, that you will find a
little of yourself. And I hope you like what you see.