As a photographer who now makes a living snapping pictures of some of the world’s most influential figures, Stephen Voss didn’t always know that photography could be more than a hobby. Once a bonsai novice, he certainly didn’t think he would publish a photography book of bonsai.
Now that he’s an accomplished photographer, Voss wants to share his “tricks of the bonsai photography trade.” He will be writing a regular blog covering everything from lighting, angles and mindset needed when photographing the trees. Sign up for our newsletter and follow us on Facebook and Instagram to never miss one of his entries! Read his last entry here.
When I began photographing the trees at The National Bonsai & Penjing Museum, I knew little of bonsai and had even less of an idea of how to take pictures of the miniature wonders. What I did know was that, if I wanted to have any success at this, it would be by creating something new, apart from the tree itself.
Making a photograph to record what something looks like is a perfectly reasonable goal, but it only scratches the surface of the expressive possibilities of photography. But where do you start? Here is an exercise to partake in if you’re just getting your feet wet in the realm of bonsai photography:
Walk around the museum, being sure to look at all of the trees until one catches your eye. It’s not a bad thing if that tree happens to be in good light (open shade for instance, not bright sunshine).
Stand in front of that tree, set a timer on your phone for ten minutes, and do nothing. By nothing, I mean just look at the tree. Bend down, look from the side, just don’t stop looking at it. Notice the way light hits different parts of it, think of the generations of people who have worked on this tree and try to find something new about the tree that you’ve never seen before.
After 10 minutes, take 15 shots of the tree, each one different than the last, like so:
At some point during this exercise, you may find yourself questioning the whole enterprise, feeling foolish or that you've simply run out of things to see. This feeling is part of the process. Without this doubt and uncertainty, without exhausting your sense of what’s there, you can’t really make progress. As someone who’s felt these unsettling, frustrating feelings many times in my photographic life, I urge you to just keep at it, keep looking, keep seeing.
Learning to see is a strangely undeveloped skill for many photographers and developing it requires time and patience. But why bother? If you’re like me, with no discernible skill in working with bonsai, but a deep appreciation and love for the trees, looking closely is a form of appreciation, a way to connect. With a keen eye and a bit of luck, it can also be a way to turn that experience into a meaningful photograph.
Read his last entry here.