Blog – Richard McGuire

Changing seasons, changing perspectives

One of the things I especially like about the Ottawa area is the changing seasons. They offer lots of opportunities to photograph the same subject with sharply different seasonal moods.

I admit though that Ottawa has far too much winter, and not enough of the other seasons. Spring is short, and the tulips bloom for a week or two, and then you’re into the hot, humid summer. Autumn colours are spectacular, but they disappear as quickly as they appear, leaving the trees bare. And then there are months on end of cold, bleak, snowy winter.

This year there was little snow in November and December, and as I write this on January 2, the snow is almost gone after a bit of a warm spell. Still, there are several more months of winter, and if history is any guide, there will be lots of snow before it’s over. Ottawa never lacks humidity.

This year was a challenge for shooting winter scenes. I wanted to refresh my Christmas card shots of the Parliament buildings, but had to leave it until a couple weeks before Christmas for lack of snow. Even then, the snow was light.

One of my favourite local places to shoot the changing seasons is the rapids at Blakeney, just west of Ottawa. Here the Mississippi River (no, not that Mississippi) tumbles over rocks and twists through forests. Setting my camera on a tripod, and using a slow shutter speed creates a smooth effect with the flowing water. Coloured autumn leaves, or ice on the shores create very different seasonal moods.

Autumn

Winter

It’s good to revisit the same locations and see how they change with the seasons. As I curse the seemingly endless Ottawa winters, I try to appreciate the variety of perspectives that our changing seasons bring.

My very brief career as a glamour photographer

There’s a lot to be said for shaking things up and photographing new kinds of subjects. So when one of my Flickr contacts announced that in late September there would be a model shoot in Gatineau, I decided to show up. The event was a fundraiser for the local SPCA, and was billed as a chance for local photographers to meet local models and shoot pictures on a boat.

I’ve had very little experience with this kind of photography. Many years ago I shot a couple rolls of film of a co-worker who had aspirations of being a model, but we did it outdoors entirely with available light. This time I wanted to get some practice shooting human subjects with my Nikon SB-900 flash unit and a diffuser.

It was a fairly informal event, and people were friendly. I chatted with a few of the models. One girl told me she tried to sign on with an agency, but they rejected her because of a cheek piercing. I was a bit surprised that in this day of Photoshop and many different fashion tastes that it would be an issue, but I guess the fashion business is pretty competitive and ruthless. All in all, there were about eight or nine models and a few more photographers — some who seemed to be fairly experienced.

Sometimes several photographers shot the same model or models at once, taking turns shooting, and announcing by counting down so that the models knew where to look. The models all seemed to be experienced, and were adept at changing their poses.

It’s definitely tougher than landscape photography, where you can take a lot of time to set up the shot. Here you have to work quickly, paying attention at the same time to the camera and its settings and also to directing or responding to the model. And the added dimension of flash complicated it more.

After taking a number of shots on the boat and outside it, we headed over to a nearby gym just as it was starting to rain. Here, it was even more challenging because of the tight indoor space and the presence of gym equipment and mirrors everywhere. The mirrors made for some interesting reflections, but it was a challenge to keep photographers and flashes out of the shots.

Together with another photographer, Graeme, we worked with two different models, Isabelle and then Jessica as they used the gym equipment. Sometimes male model, Yan, also posed with them. Graeme was great at coming up with posing ideas, and several times he loaned me his SB-800 so that I could get a few shots using multiple lights, which he helped me set up.

I don’t know that I’m ready to become a glamour photographer, but it was lots of fun and I learned a lot.

Journey back in time

After the American War of Independence ended in 1783, many who remained loyal to the British crown fled to Canada, settling in Nova Scotia, Quebec’s Eastern Townships, and what is now southeastern Ontario. The northern shores of the St. Lawrence River, within sight of the United States, in particular attracted many United Empire Loyalist settlers.

Throughout the early 19th century, the population of what then became Upper Canada expanded rapidly with settlement from the British Isles. (Present-day Quebec was then known as Lower Canada). Many settled in small villages, some prospering with the rural technology of the time — water-powered mills, and other such machinery. Attractive communities were built with logs, sawed planks, stone and brick. And many of these buildings survived well into the 20th century.

Fast forward to the 1950s, when the St. Lawrence Seaway was constructed and opened, allowing larger ships to pass from the ocean to the Great Lakes. One of the challenges in the Seaway’s construction was at set of rapids at Long Sault. To allow ships to pass, an artificial lake called Lake St. Lawrence was created, and the water levels were raised in 1958, submerging six villages and three hamlets. These became known as the Lost Villages. A number of historic buildings from these villages were relocated to a site near Morrisburg, which opened in 1961 as Upper Canada Village.

Since then, other historic buildings have been relocated there, so that now there are more than 40 buildings from the area. And for nearly 50 years, Upper Canada Village has operated as a heritage park, depicting life in a small Upper Canada community of 1866, the year before Canadian Confederation. The grist mill operates producing flour, that the baker still makes into bread using traditional methods. The sawmill produces lumber. A cheese factory produces cheddar cheese, making only a few minor concessions to satisfy modern food inspectors, such as using a steel-lined vat and tools. And a blacksmith still shoes horses and crafts implements using mid-19th century technology.

I first visited Upper Canada Village as a teenager in 1969, and have been back once or twice over the years. I returned recently on a gorgeous sunny September day, armed with a camera and several lenses. The enactors were pretty good about allowing themselves to be photographed as they carried out traditional crafts from nearly 150 years ago.

Reflection through the rails, Upper Canada Village

Spinning yarn, Upper Canada Village

Making cheddar cheese, Upper Canada Village

Stroll by the river, Upper Canada Village

In the general store, Upper Canada Village

Blacksmith’s shop, Upper Canada Village

See other photos of Upper Canada Village as a slideshow in my Flickr set.

Caribana – the Caribbean in Toronto

At the end of July, I drove down to Toronto to take in the finale of Caribana, a huge Caribbean festival that culminates in a parade. Over a million people attend, and thousands who participate in the parade get decked out in glittering carnivalesque costumes.

The parade, July 31, was on a hot, sunny day. The sun was brilliant, resulting in dark shadows. As a result, I photographed it using a fill flash a lot, and also took in much of the action from behind barriers using a 70-300mm long zoom lens to zero in on the action from the distance. Before the parade, I took some pictures of costumed participants arriving. Normally, I just asked them to pose, and with the exception of just one couple, all were willing to do so. I know many were proud of how they looked, and when people are having fun, they’re much more willing to let you take their picture.

Here are a few shots I took before and during the parade:

The loss of a colleague, and a great Canadian

On Thursday morning, I lost an amazing colleague and Canada lost a great Canadian. Mario Laguë was riding his motorcycle to work when he struck an SUV making a left turn into his path just a few blocks from my home in Ottawa.

Mario worked as Director of Communications to Canadian Liberal Leader Michael Ignatieff. His office was a short way down the hall from mine. I saw him almost every day, and often worked with him directly whenever my tasks involved communications. He was always friendly — the kind of guy who can be humble and down-to-earthly human in a political world where many others are too full of their own importance.

I don’t normally speak publicly about what goes on behind our office walls, but I don’t think I’m revealing any secrets to say that many of my co-workers at the Liberal Research Bureau were demoralized after the 2008 election defeat of leader Stéphane Dion. A new management team initially brought in by Mr. Ignatieff was smart and energetic, but lacked experience and made mistakes. Then, last fall, Peter Donolo was brought in as Chief of Staff, and he brought with him a management team of stars. One of the brightest of these was Mario.

Mario had a witty sense of humour. It came through in media reports. Invariably a reporter would quote an unnamed “Liberal source” who had some sharply clever response that mocked the bungling of the Harper Conservatives. To anyone who knew him, it was obviously Mario. At meetings, Mario could be decisive and quick to get to the point, but then he would let go a wry comment that would have us all in stitches.

I admired his approach to communications. All too often Conservatives twist and distort the facts, spinning small events and big lies. Liberals earnestly struggle through the weeds of issues, attempting to make logical, but obscure arguments that are lost on the public. Not Mario. He could instantly zero in on the essence of an issue, saying in simple terms why it matters to Canadians. He had an inner gut for public opinion. I never once heard him call for twisting or torquing an issue, but I often heard him urge sensible restraint when colleagues became a bit too enthusiastically partisan. Whenever he questioned my work, I knew after a little reflection that his instincts were right.

I remember when the tragic earthquake struck Haiti and Mario seemed emotionally shaken, quickly realizing how serious it was. In quiet tones, he told us it looked very, very bad, and above all we should not try to exploit this tragedy for partisan purposes. This was a time to be supportive of effective action, while being respectful of those on the government side who would be front and centre of Canada’s response to the tragedy.

I regret that I never got to know Mario as a close friend. From the moment we first chatted, I knew we shared many common interests. We were close in age — boomers in an office dominated by 20 and 30 somethings. We shared the cultural reference points of those who came of age in the 1960s and 1970s. Both of us had a fascination for the world outside Canada — particularly Latin America, where he had served as Ambassador to Costa Rica and in other diplomatic roles in Mexico and Venezuela. I had hoped that one day we would chat about our common experiences abroad, but that’s a conversation that now will never happen.

Not too long ago Mario asked me if I would mind doing him a small favour not related to work. He wanted me to scan electronically some papers for him that he needed to insure a motorcycle. As I scanned the papers, I had a thought — not quite as strong as a premonition, but clear nonetheless — that riding a motorcycle in and around Ottawa was a risky activity, and I hoped he would be okay.

The last time I talked to Mario was a chance meeting in the washroom where he told me he had been out exploring the countryside and had discovered Perth, a town west of Ottawa that I also like very much. He said that while looking at photos on the Internet of local places to travel to, he’d been surprised to come across so many of my shots. I vaguely thought it would be fun if I had a motorcycle, to tag along on his explorations.

But then Thursday morning I got a call from a colleague who gave me the sad news shortly before it broke in the media. I was away in Quebec on a French immersion course and couldn’t share the grief with colleagues and friends who knew Mario.

Today I drove through that intersection at Scott and Parkdale near my home where Mario’s life was taken from him at the age of 52. There were eerie police markings still on the pavement showing where the SUV stopped and where Mario landed. I felt an anger at the attitude of so many SUV drivers who seem to feel that because their vehicles are bigger, they own the road. But most of all, I felt a profound sadness about the waste of a life of a man in his prime, an amazing man I would have liked to know better.

Firing a musket

Sunrise over the Parliament Buildings, Ottawa

Fireworks over Parliament, Canada Day, Ottawa

Into the bright sun

One mistake that beginner photographers often make is posing people in bright sun with the sun directly overhead or behind the photographer.

While this can result in interesting light when the sun is very low in the sky at the beginning or end of the day, most of the time it just results in harsh shadows and washed out highlights. And subjects often squint in the bright sun, making them less attactive.

A better solution, where possible, is to photograph subjects in open shade. This can be against a north-facing side of a building, or under a picnic shelter or anywhere else that’s not in the direct sunlight, but where reflected sunlight can enter from all directions to illuminate the scene. The shade of trees can be used, but often there’s a dappled light coming through breaks in the leaves that can ruin the shot.

Some photographers use translucent white panels between the sun and the subject. This works really well, but usually involves an assistant to hold the panel, or some kind of set-up with light stands to suspend the panel. Great light, but a little impractical for a lone photographer looking for candid shots.

Often there’s simply no alternative but to shoot in direct sunlight. In such cases, it’s best to try to put the sun behind the subject (but not aiming right at the lens, where it will cause flare), and then to light the subject with a fill flash. The fill flash will even out the light a bit, softening it in effect. It fills in shadows, like those under a hat brim, or around someone’s eye sockets and nose. It also increases the light on the subject in cases where the sun is behind them, so they aren’t silhouetted, but you can still sometimes get nice rim light from the sun behind.

Fill flash is one of the few times when the on-camera pop-up flash works reasonably well. That’s because it’s just fill — it’s not the main source of light. If you use a hot shoe flash, you can often leave the flash on the camera, with or without a diffuser. Sometimes you’ll want to reduce the flash output a little so the effect of the flash is less noticeable.

Below are a few shots where I used fill flash to advantage:

July 1 Canada Day in Ottawa is often very sunny, and this is especially the case shortly before noon. It’s a good time to take pictures of people celebrating, but harsh sunlight often makes people’s faces very contrasty with light and shadows.

In this picture of a girl getting her face painted, the sunlight was extreme, but was coming from behind the girl. Using a fill flash softened the light and shadows on her face, and almost gave the impression of shooting in open shade. In a few pictures in this series, my flash failed to fire, and the result looks very different with harsh shadows across her face. Using a fill flash in bright sunlight, it’s important to keep in mind the sync speed of the camera. On my Nikon D300, the sync speed is 1/250 of a second. Sometimes, especially when you want to soften your background, you need to use a higher speed than that. In such cases, it’s essential to make sure your camera is set to allow the flash to use Auto FP High Speed Sync, a setting that allows the flash to be used at faster shutter speeds.

The photo above was taken this month at the Medieval Festival in Osgoode, Ontario, just south of Ottawa. Here I was right in blazing afternoon direct sunlight, and there was no choice for this shot. I got down low and shot upwards so as to get a bit of the “victim’s” face and better show the action. And I used a fill flash in my hot shoe with no diffusion, and cranked it up an extra EV (f-stop). While it got rid of some of the harsh shadows on the subject, it still wasn’t enough to eliminate the shadow under the rim of the hat of the boy throwing a wet sponge. It’s not easy to overpower the light of the bright sun with a single flash.

In this picture of a soldier waiting to do battle in a re-enactment of a battle from the Seven Years War at Ogdensburg, New York, I also used a fill flash. The effect here is very subtle, and it would be difficult to tell just from looking that a fill flash was used. You still see a sharp contrast on his shoulder (viewer’s left) between the sunlit and shaded areas. In this case, the background was much brighter, and all the fill flash did was add a little light to the subject to reduce the gap in exposure between subject and background. Still, it improves the photo.

The sun is a very powerful element in outdoor photography, but sometimes we need to use a little bit of “sun” from our camera bags to control the light a little better.

Photo flâneur

One of my photo contacts looked at one of my shots from a recent trip to Montreal and suggested I was becoming a “veritable flâneur.”

In Quebec, the term “flâneur” has negative connotations — like vagrant, vagabond or loiterer. Some stores even post signs saying “defense de flâner,” suggesting they don’t want kids hanging outside the doorway after making their purchases.

In Europe, the term “flâneur” has other connotations. My photo contact referred me to the Wikipedia entry discussing the term “flâneur” as Charles Baudelaire intended it, meaning more of a “gentleman stroller of city streets” or someone who is a detached observer of city life. The article goes on to discuss how street photography has become a modern extension of the 19th century urban observer.

Montreal is a wonderful city in which to be a “flâneur” in Baudelaire’s sense of the term. It has such a vibrant mix of cultures set against exciting architecture, both modern and old.

As for street photography, Montreal presents a unique challenge. Quebec has the most restrictive laws against street photography in North America. Essentially, you can be sued if you publish a photo of someone without their consent and if they are identifiable. The exception, which seems to allow news photography, is if the photo serves the public interest (whatever that means). It’s a vague term that presumably suggests that art and documentation of city life are not in the public interest, whereas news reporting is. Whether or not a court would actually rule that the photo damaged a person is beside the point — few photographers can afford to go to court, so the law instead becomes a tool of blackmail. It’s as though the fundamental freedom of expression guaranteed by 2(b) of the Charter of Rights and Freedoms has only limited validity in Quebec.

Of course privacy is also a right, and I’ve seen some street photographers who cross the line in that regard. But I tend to think that if a person is doing a public activity in a public place, they should be fair game for a documentary style of photographer.

Being unprepared to challenge Quebec’s law, I reluctantly change my photography style in Montreal. I tend to shoot people in ways that they are more anonymous, either by using motion blur, or photographing from behind. And I take more pictures of buildings and non-human subjects. That’s not to say I’ll always obscure people’s identities if they’re doing a public activity in a public place, but I usually err on the side of caution. And sometimes the results work well.