Corey Rich Productions

Story Behind the Image: The Fourth Element

Lauren Coffield running in Santa Barbara, California / f/5.6, ISO 200, 1/1000 second, 17-35mm/2.8 lens

Last week I gave a one-hour presentation for the good folks at SanDisk, the maker of the flash memory cards I use in all my cameras, in their brand-new auditorium in Milpitas. I spoke about how the worlds of still photography and video are converging, and the future of visual storytelling has never been brighter. After the presentation, one of the employees of SanDisk approached me with a very direct question, one that caught me a little off guard.

“How do I make great pictures?” she asked.

It was a flattering thing to be asked, and at first I wasn’t sure how to give a decent answer. I found myself reciting the fundamentals, the stuff that you learn in photography 101, namely that a good photograph is made up of three things: Composition, Light and Timing.

First, composition: think about how you want to frame your subject in order to create the most interesting image. The often-cited guideline is the “Rule of Thirds,” in which you imagine your image as being divided into nine equal parts by two equally-spaced horizontal lines and two equally-spaced vertical lines. Then, you compose your image so that your subject is placed along these lines or at those intersections—as opposed to dead center. This creates photographs with more tension, energy and drama.

Second, light: Where is the light source coming from, and what is its quality? After evaluating the quality of light and its source, you go through a thought process that might involve simply tweaking your ISO, aperture and shutter speed, to using reflectors or flashes to create the lighting effect that will best bring out the elements and details most important to your photograph.

Third, timing. The Moment. When do you press that shutter? A second too early or too late might mean that you miss that perfect expression in your portrait, or that crazy moment of action. Timing is everything.

But these are tips for making good pictures. This employee at SanDisk wanted to know how to make great pictures. And the more I thought about it, I realized that there’s a fourth element that many great photos all seem to share. That is, the element of surprise. The Unexpected. Serendipity.

One photo came to mind as being illustrative of having these four elements, and it was this running photograph I took a few years ago during a catalog shoot for Road Runner Sports. The composition is the classic Rule of Thirds, with the horizon of the ocean in the upper third, and my running subject placed along the lower third. The rising sun over the Pacific adds a really nice dramatic element, but its position behind the runner meant we needed to use reflectors to fill in the shadows and illuminate our subject so she really pops. Then, there’s the timing of freezing her stride right when her pose is most active and energized because both feet are off the ground.

But what makes this shot better than average (I cringe to call my own work “great”), are the two stand-up paddle boarders who just so happened to drift into the shot and frame themselves perfectly around the sunlight reflecting off the ocean. This little detail, this little serendipitous occurrence, was a gift that I couldn’t have scripted. But this kind of stuff happens all the time, and what I’ve learned is that to get that rare Fourth Element in your photos, you have to just keep shooting. Don’t put the camera down.

Also, be open to the Fourth Element. For example, I could’ve stopped the shoot and waited for those paddle-boarders to paddle out of view. But instead, I went with it. And once I got back to the computer, and saw the final product, I’m really happy I did.

PDN Photo Annual 2013

Stoked to hear that a series of images from our Polartec campaign have been selected as a winner in the 2013 PDN Photography Annual! Shooting the Polartec Alpha campaign in Patagonia, Argentina last fall was definitely a career highlight, and it was an absolute honor to be part of the project and have the opportunity to work with the incredible creative team at Doner, in Detroit, Michigan and our entire crew in the US and Argentina.

This was a massive team effort and the success of the shoot would not have been possible without the help of everyone involved. An extra special thanks to; Allon Cohne, Judy Ratcliffe, Karen Frey, Murray White, Virgil Adams, Rich Toltzman, Kellie Kafantaris, Theresa Bland, Dane Henry, Mike Hagadorn, Josh Marianelli, Julia Arcamone, Marina Rich, Pip Hunt, Willie Benegas, Damian Benegas, Georgina Davenport, Lucas Jacobson, Tomas Aquilo, Pablo Pontoriero, Inaki Odriozola, Adelina Odriozola, Indio, and Alvar Puente.

Story Behind the Image: Imagine A World Without Polartec

Portrait of telemark skier Kasha Ridgy / Hasselblad 503, Kodak TMX Film

Standing before me was a very beautiful, naked woman. She had undressed quite suddenly, and I stood there dumbfounded. I was 21 years old. If you had told me back then that, in a situation like this, I would actually encourage a naked woman to put her clothes back on, my college-age self would’ve called you crazy. But in fact, that’s exactly what happened.

Let me back up and start from the beginning, sometime in the winter of 1995.

Through my career, the best assignments always seem to begin with an unexpected phone call. This time, Nate Simmons, co-owner of Backbone Media, was on the other end of the line. Backbone was still a young PR-and-advertising agency, already working with some major companies in the outdoor industry.

“Hi Corey,” Nate said. “We’ve been admiring your work out here in Colorado. Great stuff, man, great stuff. But let me ask you a question: Have you ever done any studio work?”

“Not a lot,” I blurted, then quickly added, “but I am totally comfortable shooting in the studio.”
Honestly, at this point in my budding photography career, saying this was a bit of a stretch.

Then Nate asked, “What about nude portraits? Any experience there?”

“Absolutely,” I said. “Of course! No problem at all.”

Now I was flat-out lying. I had never shot a single nude portrait. Obviously, I’m not going to tell the guy who wants to give me a job this pesky little detail.

My philosophy from day one has been to say “Yes,” then figure out how to do whatever it is I’ve agreed to later. This philosophy, however, comes with one important stipulation: If you say yes, you cannot fail!

Nate went on to explain that he was handling the advertising account for Polartec, and they were interested in a print campaign featuring portraits of four prolific adventure athletes—a kayaker, a skier , a climber and a mountain biker. The idea was to photograph the athletes in the nude and use their respective climbing, kayaking, biking or skiing gear to cover themselves. The tagline of the eventual ad would read: “Imagine a World Without Polartec.”

Several weeks and many phone calls later, I found myself standing in a rented studio space in Denver, Colorado, with my close friend and college roommate Jay Clendenin (now a staff photographer at the LA Times), who would be assisting me with the shoot. Jay and I had arrived two days early to make sure we knew how to light the studio, and familiarize ourselves with our rented medium-format Hasselblad cameras. We needed images of the highest resolution, and a Hasselblad film camera was the ticket.

On the day of the shoot, it was bitterly cold and snowing. At dawn, in the icy light, Jay and I waded through almost a foot of fresh to reach the studio. We wanted to be there early to warm up the space. If the talent was going to be nude, we didn’t want them to have goosebumps—the Hasselblads would capture each and every one.

Deep down, I was quite nervous about shooting nudes. How would I tell the talent to undress without appearing awkward or, worse, leering? But I had gotten myself into this situation, and now, I needed to not fail.

Nate was there early, too. We began setting up lights. At about 8 a.m., a taxi dropped off the day’s first model: telemark skier Kasha Rigby, an athlete for The North Face.

Growing up as a competitive skier in Utah, Kasha became a tele ripper who would go on to solidify her name as one of foremost ski mountaineers in the world.

This morning, Kasha was in a bit of a rush. She had a plane to catch to some remote, frozen corner of Asia, where she would be exploring first descents. She walked into the studio with her ski bag draped over one shoulder, an expedition-sized The North Face duffle on the other, and a backpack on her back. With a big exhalation, she dumped the cumbersome luggage on the floor.

“I’m a little nervous about all this!” Kasha admitted.

I swear, no sooner did she say this than she peeled down to her birthday suit. Within mere seconds of meeting us three strange men—and without any prompting on our part—Kasha was standing in the studio’s entryway, perfectly in the buff. It seriously happened so fast, I wondered if she had pressed some kind of special button that instantly ejected all the clothing off her body.

The room fell silent as Nate, Jay and I searched for some appropriate words. Finally, I turned to Kasha and said, “Kasha, we’re 30 minutes out from shooting. You’re welcome to get dressed again.”

We all laughed. It was the perfect ice breaker we needed to get over our nerves.

From there, the shoot was fantastic, and we made some really creative, interesting pictures. Over the course of the day, I learned that less was more: less equipment covering the athletes resulted in more elegant, graceful images.

But where I saw elegance, others saw a certain raciness. Unfortunately, Polartec ended up not using any of the images in print. At the time, Polartec was run by a third-generation owner, Aaron Feuerstein, who was in his 70s. Aaron liked the images, and Polartec used them in their trade-show booth. But when Mrs. Feuerstein walked into the booth, and saw “all the skin,” she killed the risqué campaign before it ever saw the printed page.

However, these images took on their own lives in the adventure-sports world, where they spread like crazy. I’m not exaggerating when I say these shots blew up. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve received a request for a print of this image of Kasha, with her signature.

I’ve always loved this story about Kasha. Despite—or perhaps precisely because of—her nerves, she was willing to just go for it and literally open up. I would imagine this fearlessness is one of the reasons she is able to do what she does in the big mountains.

I know that for me, as a photographer faced with unfamiliar projects that I might be nervous about, I’ve definitely benefited from adopting a little bit of Kasha’s naked gusto. When taking on an assignment in which you’re not quite sure how you’ll fare, it can be a major asset to adopt the attitude of saying yes, opening up, and going for it as fearlessly as Kasha.

Now, seventeen years later, Kasha and I remain friends, and this is something we continue to talk about whenever I mercilessly bring this shoot back up. I’ve told this tale so many times, it’s taken on a mythic quality, and I often wonder if I am still getting all the details correct.

Asian Photography - Corey Rich Profile

I was pleasantly surprised to open my mailbox and see my image of David Lama climbing in Patagonia, Argentina on the cover of Asian Photography & Imaging Magazine. Several months back I was interviewed by Tapshi Dhanda for an article about my career as an adventure photographer and filmmaker. The April 2013 issue features Tapshi's writing and a selection of my images that span my career.  Also the cover image marks my 74th magazine cover. When we hit 75 covers we will throw a big party at the CRP office!!! Click on the spreads below to read the article, which includes a list of my favorite "Weapons of Choice", or head over to Asia to pick up your copy which should be available on newsstands for a few more weeks.

Story Behind the Image: Stretching The Limits

Sarah Underhill - Lake Tahoe, California / f/5.6, ISO 50, 1/500 second, 17-35mm lens

Stretching, both literally and metaphorically, is a necessary part of life. Yogis have long noted that there is strength and vitality in flexibility. A young sapling is pliant and difficult to break, while an older one is stiff, rigid and easy to snap in half. Thus, flexibility is equated with life. And actively practicing stretching, whether physically or mentally, is one means to achieve both strength and growth.

Every now and then I’ll take on an assignment that I know is completely unrealistic for me to complete in the allotted time. I’ll do it if I strongly believe in the opportunity. But sometimes, I’ll take on an improbable challenge simply for personal reasons: To push myself beyond my limits, to go beyond my comfort zone. I believe in the importance of finding ways to push yourself, whether that’s creatively or just in terms of your own preconceived ideas of what you are capable accomplishing in a single stretch of daylight.

Several years ago, I took on an assignment for the Tahoe Regional Planning Agency (TRPA), a government-funded organization with the charter to protect the beautiful environment surrounding Lake Tahoe. I think I can speak for most people living in this area that sometimes we feel like pulling our hair out over TRPA’s strict rules, but deep down in our hearts, we appreciate the conservation and protection TRPA provides.

Anyway, TRPA gave me a single day to tick off a series of images on a shot list that could’ve easily filled up two or more days. I knew it was unrealistic, but thought I should give it the old college try.
The goal was to circumnavigate the 22-by-12-mile Lake Tahoe and shoot a bunch of rather complex scenarios. Thirty minutes before sunrise, we drove to the first location and just started ticking shots off the list. It was a non-stop day. I tried to keep the energy high, but as the hours wore on, I could see that the clients as well as all the talent I was photographing were all bonking with fatigue.

About 20 minutes before sunset, everyone was ready to throw in the towel. But I was in this for the challenge and wanted to use every last photon of light available to me. I rallied the team to check out one final location—a set of round boulders on the East shore that I had once discovered and noted as a potentially interesting location for a shoot.

Sadly, by the time we reached the boulders, the sun had set and we lost the opportunity. We returned to the car, cracked a beer and toasted a day fully lived. There are a few absolute truths in this world, and I’d argue that one of them is that the harder you work, the better the beer tastes at the end of a long day.

Photography isn’t just a matter of knowing how to use your camera equipment to capture interesting pictures. Part of being a photographer is having a sort of “mental rolodex” of good locations worth shooting: Places that you know are good at certain times of day for certain particular types of images.
During the TRPA assignment, I didn’t actually get to shoot anyone here at these shoreside boulders. However, I made a mental note of this special location, thinking that one day I’ll have just the right opportunity to justify a return.

Sure enough, several years later I was doing a shoot for Title Nine Sports, a women’s clothing catalog, with Sarah Underhill. (Ironically, Sarah was my client for that original shoot with TRPA!) One of the shots that Title Nine wanted was a yoga shot in a dramatic outdoor location.

Because I had pushed myself on that big day several years before, because I stretched my own photographic limits, I knew just the right spot to go.

I believe that there is always value in taking that extra step, even if you’re tired, even if you know it may be unrealistic. Sometimes you’ll get lucky and surprise yourself. But even if it doesn’t work out there and then, it was worth it if for no other reason than it’s good practice to stretch yourself to try to achieve improbable things. If for no other reason than to live life to the fullest, to stay limber, to stay strong. Inevitably, one day you’ll find yourself in a situation where you realize it was worth it.

UV Filters: Expensive Lessons, Easy Solutions

Today’s post will be short. The story is quick and easy to tell, but really, I want to spare myself the embarrassment of having to relive a painful mistake I made last week—not for the first time, not for the second time, but probably more like the third or fourth time.

I always swear to myself that when I make a mistake as a photographer, I’ll learn from the experience and never fall back into the same trap. But just last week, I scratched the front element of my Nikon AF-S Nikkor 24mm f/1.4G ED lens.

There’s no mystery as to why my lens got scratched: I had no lens cap or UV filter on the lens. Doh!
I come from a photojournalistic background, in which you must be always ready to capture the action. When I’m out making pictures, I want quick, instant access to my cameras, which are ready to shoot without fumbling around with lens caps or turning the power on (yes, when i am in the field i leave my cameras on).

If you don’t use a lens cap, you must, must, must have a UV-HAZE filter on the lens! And normally, I always do.

But filters need to be replaced. They will scratch,  crack, or simply get so dirty with sand pockmarks and grease stains that they must be retired.

That’s what happened last week. I had tossed the old filter in the trash for my Nikon AF-S Nikkor 24mm f/1.4G ED because it was scratched but hadn’t yet to replace it. I put my camera in my bag, not realizing there was another lens already in there. The front coating of this very expensive piece of glass got scratched.

You can imagine the barrage of expletives that followed.

What was so frustrating was that this wasn’t the first time I’ve done this. It’s easy to put off this important aspect of routine gear maintenance, but the price is high for doing so. Think of replacing lens filters as getting an oil change on your car. What I did was equivalent to dumping out the old oil, then driving away without putting in new oil.

After this incident, I promptly ordered an entire new set of Schneider Optics B+W Digital MRC Nano XS Pro Nano Digital filters for all of my lenses. Some need new filters. Some don’t. But now I have a whole set, and no excuses for not having a filter on each and every lens.

A quick word on choosing filters: Always go for the high-end glass! It makes no sense to spend tens of thousands of dollars on the best Nikon cameras and lenses, only to save a few bucks by buying sub-par filters. The filter is the first piece of glass through which light passes, and its quality must match that of your camera and lens configuration, otherwise you won’t be getting the most out of your equipment. It would be as criminal as if a museum framed a Picasso in a scratched, weirdly tinted piece of glass.
The composer John Powell once said, “The only real mistake is the one from which we learn nothing.” And you can be sure that if this ever happens again, Powell’s advice will come to mind!

Story Behind the Image: A Delicate Balance in Patagonia

David Lama and Daniel Steuerer attempting to make the first free ascent of The Compressor Route on Cerro Torre in Patagonia, Argentina / Nikon D700, ISO 200, Nikkor 70-300mm f/4.5-5.6 lens

When I “clock in” at the proverbial office, I often get to work with the fittest, boldest, fastest athletes in the world. Sounds awesome, right? Well … this can be a mixed blessing. Let me explain. I come from a documentary photojournalism background. And like any good, well-behaved, classically trained photojournalist, I was taught that one of the most sacred tenets of our craft is to make ourselves as inconspicuous as possible. That is, to simply document the story without judging, influencing or participating in the outcome of the events.

The reality of producing adventure storytelling media involves a drastic departure from the traditional “fly-on-the-wall” style of documentary work. Capturing today’s cutting-edge climbs is nothing like, say, photographing Adam Scott sinking a putt and winning the Master’s last weekend. There are no “press boxes” up on Mount Everest (at least not yet!) offering photojournalists a removed, sheltered vantage from which they can safely record the action.

When you tie into a rope with two other climbers, you aren’t “just” the photographer; you’re a member of the team. There are risks and responsibilities, unspoken but accepted, that come with that simple knot. And this can create a complex, almost conflictual situation in which you are focused on making pictures, but you also don’t want to slow the climbers down.

Almost four years ago, I joined Austrian climbers David Lama and Daniel Streuerer to document their controversial, but ultimately celebrated mission to free climb the Southeast Ridge of Cerro Torre. For David and Daniel, both young and talented athletes, free climbing Cerro Torre turned into an epic multi-year mission that really challenged them to elevate their skills. In the end, David and his second climbing partner on the project, Peter Ortner, emerged as two of the best multi-pitch alpinists in the world.

As an adventure photographer, I’m always thinking through a multitude of logistical challenges. What lens do I have on my camera? Am I trying to stop action? If so, what shutter speed? Do I want shallow depth of field? What’s my aperture?  Is the sun going to move behind that cloud? How many batteries do I have remaining? Should I switch CF cards? Is this a still situation or a video situation? And the list goes on. But most importantly, I am thinking about where I want to be relative to my subjects. On an alpine climb, this can be distilled to three basic questions: When should I get ahead? When should I fall behind? And when should I jump off to one side?

The art of photography is the art of anticipation. This is a real-life game of chess, and the best photographers are the ones who can think 40 moves ahead. What happens 10 seconds out, 1 minute out, 5 minutes out, 3 hours out, and even the next day?  A good photographer knows all those answers.

Where adventure photography separates itself isn’t just in that incessant internal dialogue, but in your delicate relationship to and communication with your teammates. This is all about finding that fine balance between being a documentary photographer who stays out of the way, but also being an equal participant in the adventure who doesn’t slow the action down.

For this photograph of David and Daniel climbing a beautiful ridge on the approach to the slender turret of granite that is Cerro Torre, I made the decision to fall behind and move to the left to the get this epic angle. But there’s another way to say it, too: David and Daniel are so fit and so fast that I could barely keep up with them!

However you choose to look at it (my ego prefers the former), I was behind David and Daniel and I saw the opportunity for this picture. But to get it, I had to breach that delicate relationship between being a climber and a photographer. I called up to David and Daniel, and asked them to wait for me to catch-up after I made this image. Making pictures takes time.

This is a rare favor that I only ask a few times per expedition. It’s a request you would be wise to save for when you see those ultimate, deserving moments: like climbing an amazingly sharp snow ridge in Patagonia. Though I’m stalling progress, if the photo is valuable enough, I will call in that favor.
Fortunately for me, asking David and Daniel to wait up had another really nice benefit: they got to catch their breath and so did I.

The CRP Family is Growing!

When I picked up a camera for the first time almost 25 years ago, I honestly never intended for it to become a “business.” Photography has been a labor of love, a passion, really a lifestyle for me, and when I’m out in the field with my camera, I rarely feel like what I’m doing could be classified as “work.”
But over the years, I’ve been fortunate enough to work with so many great clients, many of whom have become fantastic friends, and Corey Rich Productions has organically expanded to include a team of like-minded individuals to keep our office in South Lake Tahoe running smoothly.

I was excited to bring aboard Josh Marianelli last June as Studio Director / Producer for CRP. Josh and I first met about four years ago at the Rich Clarkson Adventure Photography Workshop in Jackson, Wyoming, where we were both instructors. Josh was then working in New York City as a freelance photographer, producer, studio manager, digital capture and lighting tech; a jack of all trades. He has a contagious passion for photography and a wealth of knowledge in all aspects of making creative digital media. Convincing him to leave Brooklyn and come work with me in the Sierra Nevada Mountains did not require much arm twisting and was a real blessing.

Josh and his wife, Julia Schwadron Marianelli, moved here last Fall and they immediately settled into the Tahoe lifestyle. Julia is an amazing artist who works in a variety of interesting mediums, notably her “YOU ARE HERE” project which “recognizes the traveler’s experience, and simultaneously questions the idea of what is foreign or familiar across various kinds of boundaries”. You can check out her work at www.juliaschwadron.com

 

Mom and Dad allowing Gabe to get a feel for the Nikon 1 J3 at the CRP office.

When Josh and Julia arrived, Julia was a little over four months pregnant, and there was a lot of work for them to get done in terms of setting up their home for the baby, as well as setting up Julia’s new studio space. Since then, she’s been working on new projects for shows in New York, San Francisco and Bangkok and a commission in Barbados. Meanwhile, Josh has been working like crazy at the office ever since he arrived. In fact, the past nine months have been some of the busiest we’ve ever had and it definitely would have been difficult, if not impossible, had Josh not been here.

I’m pleased to welcome the newest member of the CRP family: Gabriel Brian Marianelli. Born on February 7th at 6:33 a.m. Gabe weighed in at 7 pounds, 20 inches. Everyone at the office is really excited to have Gabe around, and I wanted to extend a huge congratulations to Josh and Julia on their number-one son!  I am sure in the next few years Gabe will be taking his own pictures, retouching images and helping out at CRP. Josh and Julia are already putting him to bed with Scott Kelby Photoshop lessons playing in the background :-)

Story Behind the Image: Decisive Moments in the Grand Canyon

Kevin Thompson and Matt Duperrault - Grand Canyon, AZ / ISO 100, f/6.3, Nikkor 70-200mm f/2.8 lens

For many folks, the opportunity to raft down the Colorado River would be the adventure of a lifetime. The idea conjures up visions of riding roller coasters of fun white-water rapids, all amid one of the wildest settings on earth.

Well ... not exactly. To paraphrase one of our raft guides, floating the Colorado into the Grand Canyon actually involves hours and hours of boredom punctuated by brief periods of sheer terror.

While this may sound like torture for some (tip: bringing plenty of beer helps!), on this trip, I was struck by a profound sense of our relationship to time.

Geologically, this is a trip backwards through time. As you go deeper and deeper into the canyon, new layers of rock are revealed, each one more ancient than the last. It’s as if you are reading the story of the Earth itself, from back to front.

But simultaneously, the river is moving you forward through time. In fact, the speed at which the river runs seems to be in exact synchronization with the second hand of a clock. Each second ticks forward, as steady and smooth as the river itself. And with each passing second, new panoramic moments are gestating, growing and finally appearing in full spectacular view.

Then, as quickly as those moments appear, they pass by. One of the great responsibilities that we photographers enjoy is to not miss those stunning photographic moments. I dare say we must document them, lest they be lost to our fickle, biased, imperfect memories.

This means that you can’t just turn off your brain, as much as you may want to, during the hours and hours when nothing is happening on the river. This is actually one of the things I love about photography: how demanding it can be. Even the moments you aren’t taking photographs are still mentally stimulating. Sure, you allow half your brain to relax, engage in conversations with your friends, and just enjoy being out in nature. But the other half—the photographer’s half—remains as alert as a wild predator. This side of your brain is hunting, seeking and, most of all, anticipating what will come around that next river bend.

One of the biggest challenges of photographing rafting is that you often don’t know what’s around that next corner: what the foreground and background will look like. So you’re always looking ahead, then back behind you, anticipating pictures.

The other challenge is that you are photographing moving targets. Not just any moving targets, but clunky, 800-pound rafts that basically just drift wherever the river takes them. These aren’t exactly precision vehicles, and you can’t “direct” them to maneuver into the position you desire for your composition. Nor can you really move yourself, as you are also subject to the capriciousness of water in motion.

All of this adds up to the fact that, when you’re on the river, you have to always be prepared and ready to make a picture. Having easy access to your camera gear—while also protecting it from water, sun and dust—will make or break you.

One of the tricks I learned in advance came from fellow Aurora Photos photographer David McLain, who taught me how to rig a Pelican Case for rafting trips. I drilled holes through the plastic fins on the bottom front and back sides of the Pelican Case, which allowed me to lash it, using threaded webbing and carabiners, to the raft’s bench. The beauty of this system is it allows the lid of the Pelican case to opened and close easily while the case is secured to the raft. Essentially, the raft could tip over and sink and my camera gear would be safe and dry. I also spray painted my Pelican Case white, which helped reflect the inescapable hot sun to keep my camera cooler.

But it wasn’t enough just to have easy access to my camera. I also kept the lens cap off, the camera on, and always set to a “ballpark” correct exposure.

I also had a mental checklist that the photographer’s side of my brain was always scanning. I was thinking about the rafts’ position relative to the water, the angle of the light, the background, the position of the rafts, and finally the horizon line. It was a million little details that I kept in constant review, so that when that special moment arrived, when all the little details miraculously came together, I’d instantly recognize it and be prepared to capture it.

In photography—and, really, any creative or athletic pursuit—we talk about the benefits of “going with the flow.” Staying in that centered, present moment without any thoughts of the future or past.

But I’d say that’s only partly true. In reality a lot of preparation and anticipation must first take place in order to grant you access to that special “flow state”—where all great, spontaneous, creative things happen. You’re waiting for that “Decisive Moment,” to invoke the term coined by the famous French photojournalist Henri Cartier-Bresson. The foreground and background. Your subjects are in position. And the light is just right.

Then, like that proverbial predator, there’s no thought, no second guessing—you just pounce. You act. You flow. You know your exposure, your composition,your moment. You don’t have to mess around with taking off the lens caps. You don’t have to dig through a camera bag to find the right lens. Thanks to your preparation, it’s all ready.

The story that this image doesn’t tell is the hours and hours of waiting around for all these elements to align. But then, here they are: The rafters are in sync with each other. There’s a symmetry to the oars that is visually pleasing. And the subjects are separated from their background. In fact, I think this photograph would be far less interesting if the rafts were positioned against the black background. Instead, they are framed by blue, reflective water.

The background really makes this image. The beautiful, layered mountains show were we came from, and where we are now. And, of course, they show the scale and grandeur of this place—how big and beautiful the Grand Canyon really is, and how humbled we are to be there within it.

So, really I think that it’s preparation and anticipation, along with an awakened and alert “photographer’s brain,” that combine and set you up for capturing that Decisive Moment—that “flow state”—when great, creative things happen. Be in the moment, go with the flow, but also set yourself up so you can make great pictures. That’s what it’s all about.

CrossFit: Personal Project

Shot 1: Brandon Caskey - Dumbbell Pushup Row - Nikon D800: 70-200mm f/8.0 @ 1/200th ISO 320

Last month, I decided to do something different and shoot CrossFit-the popular, if masochistic, fitness program that is whipping people into shape across the country. In just a single day we photographed local CrossFit athletes doing what they do best in a gym in South Lake Tahoe, and came away with some fantastic results. I'm pleased to share my favorite images from the shoot here. Also I want to tell you about the process that went into the production. This shoot was unique in that it wasn't for an assignment, magazine or company. It was for myself.

Most of the work I do is on assignment for clients who want me to help them tell a particular story through motion, stills or both. This work pays the bills, and I'm lucky enough to really enjoy it, too. But I strongly believe that, periodically, it's really important to take the time to tackle your own personal project: work that doesn't have a home with a client. Creative work that is, simply, just for yourself.

Shot 3: Brandon Caskey - Portrait - Nikon D800                            Shot 2: Aisha Zaza - Rings - Nikon D800                                    16-35mm f/8.0 @ 1/200th ISO 320                                               24-70mm f/11.0 @ 1/200th ISO 200

Why are personal projects important? Well, aside from the obvious reason-that you'll inevitably choose to tell stories that you're inherently interested in or passionate about-personal projects are an opportunity to experiment and take some risks. To learn new skills and techniques. To stretch and flex new mental muscles, broaden your skill set, and diversify your catalog of work. If all goes well, maybe that personal project will lead to a new client, or at the very least, help existing clients think of you in a new light.

The idea to shoot CrossFit originated when I decided I wanted to shoot indoors and work with studio lights. Much of my professional work has revolved around hanging on a rope, shooting strong climbers in dramatic outdoor vertical landscapes and using natural light. I wanted to stage a shoot indoors where there would be no risk of falling snow or ice, no fear of my rope snapping and my feet, for once, would be firmly planted on the ground. Stripping away the layer of logistics and objective hazards that I normally deal with would allow me the space to just simply focus on my core camera work and creativity.

Shot 3: Del Lafountain - Kettlebell - Nikon D800:                        Shot 7: Justin Bruce - Rope Climb - Nikon D800:                         24-70mm f/4.0 @ 1/125th ISO 800                                              70-200mm f/11.0 @ 1/200th ISO 100

But I didn't want to just shoot still lifes; I want to shoot something athletic and interesting. CrossFit, in this sense, was not a huge departure from my portfolio of adventure images, but more of a logical tangent to it.

We assembled a team on a shoestring budget. I asked six friends, who actively do CrossFit in their free time, to be out models. Our intern, Christian Fernandez, would serve as photo assistant, Marina, my wife, would be in charge of makeup and hair and Del Lafountain and his partners, kindly allowed us to use South Tahoe CrossFit, on a free Saturday afternoon. In exchange our friends at South Tahoe CrossFit and the models would be allowed to use the photos for their own purposes. The biggest expense was flying in my friend Bryan Liscinsky, a talented lighting tech from Southern California.

The process for this personal project was very similar to one I'd use if I were working for a client. I scouted the gym the day before, walking around with a pencil and paper and taking notes on how to make the most of this environment. I noted interesting backdrops and crucial foreground objects. I identified different things the models could be doing-kettlebell swings, squats, rowing, rings, etc. My challenge and goal (as always) was to create the most visually diverse set of images possible in this small indoor space.

Notes from scouting South Lake CrossFit gym and initial thoughts on a shot list and camera set ups.

My vision was to get a set of unique commercial-quality images with a high-contrast look-very dramatic, hard-edge light. We brought in four Profoto Pro-7b 1200 flash units, which gave us enough juice to run seven Profoto ProHeads and a Profoto ProRing. We set up Chimera Pro II medium strip lightbanks on the side, positioned lightbanks overhead and worked with an additional Softlight Reflector - a.k.a. "Beauty Dish". We even set up a fog machine to create a moodier atmosphere.

We also experimented with using Litepanel LEDS to give us that extra bit of nuanced control over the ambient lighting.

A few behind the scenes video screen grabs from the Nikon D600. In addition to our Nikon System, we used Profoto strobes, Chimera Light modifiers, Litepanels LEDs, Photoflex LitePanels, Pocket Wizard units, Manfrotto stands, Westcott Scrim Jim, and grip equipment.

The day of the shoot was amazing. I learned a lot, honed some new skills and reinforced old ones. The team worked together well, and the models definitely enjoyed their "CoreyFit" workout. ("Can you lift that 50-pound kettlebell over your head just one more time, please?")

I think the images speak for themselves, but the story behind them is really that I got to be my own client for a day. I am definitely looking forward to more personal projects like this one. In fact, swimming and racquetball shoots are already penciled into the calendar, and please take a minute to check out a special portfolio of fitness images on our website. I hope you are inspired to get out and enjoy your own personal project.

A huge thanks to all our friends who help us out on the shot and ultimately made this possible: Del Lafountain, Michele Gregory, Tim Anderson and the crew at South Tahoe CrossFit, Aisha Zaza, Brandon Caskey, Bryan Liscinsky, Christian Fernandez, Josh Marianelli, Justin Bruce, Julia Arcamone, Marina Rich, and Wynn Ruji. Special thanks to Adobe, Chimera Lighting, Litepanels, Manfrotto, Nikon, Pocket Wizard, Profoto, and Nik Software.