I have been reading up on the process involved in selling select photos to marketers and other such clients. The literature I've been perusing also tends to include tips and strategies for working on assignment. While I am not planning to make myself available for photography assignments in the near future, I have been reading anyway, for knowledge's sake.
I am looking at a sample picture in the article--a portrait of a runner. We see him from the back as he jogs down an empty country road towards the horizon. The article is talking about setting up the right model in the right location to get the desired image. I wonder how many times the photographer had him jog 100m, called him back, and made him jog again.
And then it hit me.
The photographer may have taken 50... 60... 100 shots of the athlete to get the one shot that makes the cut. And this process is not unfamiliar to me. I've done it lots.
Thing is, I sometimes feel a twinge of... dissatisfaction when this happens. Sometimes, when it takes me several attempts to get a picture just the way I want it, I'm hard on myself. It's not like the flower was going somewhere, why didn't you just take more time to get everything set up properly? You know about leading lines, why didn't you use them from the beginning? Why did you ever think a wide angle would work for this shot?
I consider my efforts, and conclude that--while I'm a good photographer--I would be a great photographer if I could visualize that perfect shot faster, if I could see more creatively, if I knew exactly what settings I needed for the light available, etc.
Most of the time, I remember that it is all part of the process. I am learning from all this. And that ten different shots doesn't mean one great and nine awful. It means ten different shots.
But in the weak moments, I wonder if I'm gaining any skill at all, because again it's taken me so many shots to get the one I wanted.
And then I saw the runner.
I wonder how many times the photographer had him jog 100m, called him back, and made him jog again.
I did not think this negatively, but more in awe of the process. It made me think of movies, and how directors will ask actors to do a scene many times over, and then choose the best one when putting the film together at the end. And the take he chooses may not even be the one that's most technically "correct." Perhaps that one take where the actor had to improv a bit, because he briefly forgot his line, turned out to be the most natural-looking interaction, and helps the scene flow seamlessly into the next. Ten different takes doesn't mean one great and nine awful. It means ten different takes.
There is purpose in this process; it adds to the final product; and as a viewer, I can't tell how many times that scene was shot. I just sit, and take in the beauty of the art before me.
Occasionally, I do get something great on the very first try. But I think I've just had a good reminder that this really is the exception to the rule. I think I have given myself a little more permission to be okay with calling the runner back, and making him jog down the road again.
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