Eleven Days in Hungary: Thoughts on Budapest

I would be the first to admit that 11 days spent in a land is short by weeks – if not months – of the time adequate to give a fair, accurate, and complete assessment of a country and its people. Eleven days is little more that a snapshot. Agreed. But snapshots, if well seen and composed, can reveal a bit more that the mere superficial. Case in point is our recent visit to Hungary.

We confined our travels to Budapest, the Danube Bend and the Upland Hills area centered on the medieval town of Eger. So necessarily the Great Plains in the southeast as well as the whole of the country west of the capital, including the famous region of Lake Balaton, factor not in my comments.

Budapest reminds me in some ways of Paris. Yes, there is the river – the Danube – bisected by a number of bridges, each unique and with its own personality. But unlike the bridges of the Seine, which have not fully yielded the pedestrian experience to automobiles, in Budapest cars, and in some cases trams, own the crossings. Their presence cannot be ignored. Indeed, you would do so at your own peril. But whether modern and severely functional (the Elisabeth Bridge) or Edwardian of design (the Liberty Bridge) the bridges are best seen, crossed and photographed at the extremes of the day: in dawn’s light or after 10 at night when traffic has slowed and the bridges’ lights create magical reflections in the river.

Like Prague, the other European city that on occasion the Hungarian capital reminds me of, Budapest’s bridges don’t merely provide fords of a great river, but also join disparate parts of the whole. In the case of Prague, whilst the old and new town sit comfortably on the right side of the Vltava River, perhaps the most famous bridge in all of Europe – the Charles Bridge – provides an easy walk to both the royal heights of Castle Hill and the gentle neighborhoods of Mala Strana. Budapest’s primary four bridges – Liberty, Elisabeth, Chain and Margit – join the much older Hungarian royal seat of Buda with the thriving, chaotic bustle of business-minded Pest. In fact, they were two separate towns until the late 1800’s.

Also, like the aforementioned French and Czech capitals, Budapest has no shortage of historical and stunning architecture to beguile you with. Unlike both of those cities though, Budapest was severely hammered during WWII. The capital was caught in a series of brutal street-to-street battles as the retreating Germans did everything in their power to slow the relentless westward march of the Red Army. In between were caught the Hungarians and their city. What this means for the traveler is that much of what you see was rebuilt (shades of Warsaw) including all of the bridges. It also means that in between the glorious baroque and art deco buildings you will also see the utilitarian architecture that signaled the Stalinist aspiration of function over form. The transition can be jarring at times.

In addition to the bridges, one of the best ways to view the city is by walking along either bank on the Danube. Long since contained with concrete walls, both the right and left banks feature pedestrian-friendly sidewalks, as well as the ubiquitous roadways. Whether by day or night, walking along the river is a great way to view the palace complex on its hill, the Parliament Building, Margaret Island, and other sights. Of course, you need to venture into the city to really experience it and this is where differences between Paris/Prague and Budapest become more apparent to me.

Prague is relatively compact, very walkable and with pretty clearly delineated neighborhoods. The Old Town and Castle Hill are the main centers of interest. Paris is a big sprawl but there are so many unique areas with their own sense of self that the city at times seems less a metropolis and more a collection of villages. I never had that feeling in Budapest. Nor did I ever really sense where the center (or centers) was (were). For four days I wandered here and there, crossing the river a multitude of times in both day and night and never quite felt the intimate pulse of the city. Now it occurs to me that perhaps the ‘soul’ of Budapest is in fact the Danube itself. It certainly seemed the youth of the city – lovers and otherwise – could not get enough of walking along or over the river. So, rather than cloistered in some old neighborhood(s), the sense of city I was looking for was and is on display for all to see along the great river, the Danube! Perhaps.

In addition to the young love in the air – and there is a lot of it – Budapest has a surfeit of another form of youthful expression: graffiti. I’m not talking about the mural art form that some love to rally around. No, this is the paint-on-wall equivalent of dumping an ashtray on a bed of roses, or perhaps a night’s excessive drinking expelled on a floor of Roman tile mosaics. You pick your metaphor.  For me it is one of the banes of our modern cities. Really, don’t try to read too much into it. This type of graffiti is no more than a pathetic expression of saying “look at me, here I was.” This is something I have seen pretty much everywhere in Europe, with some cities more greatly afflicted than others. In most countries, the taggers hit walls and non-descript modern buildings, but must hold a grudging respect for anything more ancient than their grandparents, as rarely would I see old buildings or monuments defaced. (With the notable exception of Bologna, Italy where the vandals spare no edifice their misguided attempt at self-expression.)  Budapest’s vandals are more selective than Bologna’s: many monuments were surprisingly clean, but others were painted over beyond recognition or reading. I won’t spend time analyzing the whys of graffiti (though, I am sure that there are good sociological reasons to explain the apparently ballooning phenomena), let me just say that to this traveler and photographer, it uglifies (if, I can make up a word) an area and leaves the visual impri
nt of a greatly extended middle finger. The residents apparently look beyond the affront, I can’t.

Budapest, twenty years past the “change” that ended totalitarian socialism, was clearly on the fast track of neo-liberal success before the 2008 crash. The city has since suffered but certainly not equally. In between the beat-up, smoking 30-year old Trabants and Ladas, homeless wanderers, shuttered shops, and bicycle-bound students there are the sleek Audi’s, 3-piece suits, and tres-chic hotels that define the new elite. How this dichotomy plays out other travelers will have to record. For now, I will say that Budapest is a fascinating study in contrasts: modern and ancient, shiny and crumbling, the clean and the unwashed, beauty of form and severity of function. Much like elsewhere perhaps but with a special Magyar twist that is part of the Hungarian Way!  

Watermarks: the Good, the Bad and the Downright Ugly

I’m not sure what is going on but seemingly suddenly I am seeing a plethora (I just love that word and am glad I can actually use it here) of watermarks on people’s online photos.  I personally don’t think there is anything wrong with watermarking, per se.  In fact, there are plenty of good reasons for doing so and few bad ones.  If you are not sure, or want to explore the pros and cons, just do a Google search and you’ll find lots of discussion.  For my part, I’m on the Good side of the conversation and feel that a subtle watermark can a) immediately identify that this image belongs to someone and at the same time b) act as a form of branding for you, the photographer.

The key for me though, is subtlety. The reason I am now noticing so many watermarks may have to do with increased awareness on the part of photographers of the value of watermarking; hence, I am seeing more of them, because there are more of them.  That may be it, but I suspect the real reason is that many watermarks seem to now be on steroids.  I commonly see huge marks across the middle of images – perhaps with some clever design motif – that shout MY IMAGE: HAND’S OFF BUCK-O!  I don’t want to minimize the nefariousness of image thievery, but frankly a big old No Trespassing sign is just a turnoff. 

If the very first thing I notice with an otherwise beautiful, compelling, striking (insert other adjectives here) image, is a large obtrusive watermark, then I feel you have done a disservice to your work.  And, if the watermark is so gaudy that I can’t get past it to see the beauty, compelling nature, etc., of your work, and instead click away, well, that is generally not a good trend.  Am I alone in this?  I’m just one opinionated person, no?  After all, I have no patience for commercials – Super Bowl or otherwise – and will deliberately go out of my way to not buy a product if the commercial or advert is just irritating enough to register with me.  So I may be a bit off the bell curve with these kinds of things.  Ask your friends and colleagues what they think.  Do some research on the web.  Here is a post from PhotoShelter that corroborates my gut feel.  It is true that a giant watermark may discourage casual thievery, but it also appears that it may discourage a purchase.

From a purely aesthetic viewpoint, in my opinion (and, opinions I have)  a watermark should not compete with the image.  Perhaps I am aiding and abetting the thieves out there, as it certainly is simple to crop out or use content-aware fill on a subtle watermark…so be it.  I am trying to share (and, yes, sell as well) my photos and I want the image to stand out.  Competition from a watermark is unwanted.

There are some good guides out there as to what watermarks should look like and what elements should be in a watermark.  Using the copyright symbol – © – or the word “copyright” is pretty much universal.  I typically use the symbol and my business name.  Some people recommend also putting in a date (year) while others think it is a good idea to also include a web or email address.  Fancy logo designs might look nice, and can certainly be part of a branding exercise, but they may also be a distraction.  Use at risk.   Opacity of no greater than 50% is recommended with placement near, though not necessarily on an edge.

Check out what (inter-)nationally recognized photographers are posting with regards to watermarks:

George Lepp

Tom Till

Scott Bourne

David DuChermin

Ian Plant

Nick Brandt

Huntington Witherill

Kim Weston

Etc…Of course, there are notable exceptions to the way the above professionals watermark (or don’t) their images.  Whether the exception is the rule, is up to you.

If you really want to protect your images from online theft, many experts recommend one of two paths. Either, 1) register your images with the US Copyright Office and only post low-resolution versions online, or 2) don’t upload them in the first place!

George sez...

The Wasatch Camera Club brought George Lepp to town for an all day presentation/lecture.  Coincidently, a few days before the workshop the club had its bi-monthly competition and we asked George to act as the sole judge.  He was happy to do so.  For me, the highlight of any of the competitions is the critiquing.  In this case, we were not disappointed.  George gave some of the most pointed but even comments we have yet heard.  He was helpful and suggestive, complimentary and questioning, and I saw several people taking notes.  He can back up his statements and suggestions with decades of photography experience, not to mention his years on the editorial board of Outdoor Photographer. That does not mean we as photographers – aspiring and established – need to agree with, or incorporate every critique and suggestion he (or, any other pro) makes, but we do need to listen.     

Two of my images he spent some time analyzing.  I took mental notes and re-processed them accordingly.  Not surprisingly, his suggestions do make both images stronger.  Though, that is just my opinion and yours may vary.

First, Quail Creek: he overall liked this image and thought that it was a wonderful spot to photograph.  However, he really objected to the whitish sky.  Our eyes are drawn to bright, contrasty objects and he felt that the sky was exactly that culprit.  I frankly never felt that way about the image and instead looked at the light reflection in the water leading to the sky as a natural leading line through the photo.  Of course, the sky, lacking clouds or other features of interest, is pretty boring.  But, I reasoned, it is a relatively small part of the image.  You can see this in the ‘Before’ image.  Taking his suggestion to heart I cropped the image but maintained the aspect ratio.  See ‘After.’  A bit skeptical at first, I now feel that the ‘after’ shot is stronger.  Instead of your eye wandering off the photo through the white sky, it now follows either the left curving wall or the light reflection to the waterfall, which is the natural center of the image.  The Moki Steps on the right wall are even helped (despite cutting off the first two) by naturally entering into the image.

The second image, Pine Creek, was taken on a cold morning in Zion, this past January.  I’ve always liked elements of this image, but at the same time there was something that bothered me a bit.  What was it…?  Oh, I know: busyness!  This a very cluttered image and George basically intimated that it made him “back away” from it.  Having Mr. Lepp back away from your composition is not a good thing!  Simplify, simplify, he said.  One way to do that, is to concentrate on the distant cliffs and their reflection by cropping the image.  He also suggested toning down the bluish shadow tones in the snow.  Finally, he was not terribly happy about the scrubby winter trees in the mid-distance.  Accordingly, I cropped the image into a 8x10 format and removed some of the blue saturation from the snow.  There wasn’t much I could do about the mid-distance scrub-trees, but I also felt that the re-crop actually opened them up a bit.  The result?  You can the differences in the ‘Before’ and ‘After’ images, and again – because of the reduction of busyness and concentration of subjects (red cliffs and their reflection) – the ‘after’ image appears stronger to me.

I realize that my tendency – especially with the use of ultra wide angle lenses (these were both shot at the widest extreme of my 10-20mm) – is to include too much and too many.  Too much of the landscape is not always a good thing because often it will bring in too many subjects and/or too many undesired elements.  Simplify, George sez and he is right.  Strong, uncluttered compositions with one primary focus of interest can be the most effective type of image.  Well expressed, consider well heeded.

The Power of Suggestion

It’s great when people critique your work.  Especially if you have the opportunity to have real pros, who have been there and done that for x number of decades, review images with their finely-honed eye.  There is much to learn and they can definitely give you that proverbial leg-up by pointing out composition issues, lighting troubles, and perhaps the stray element that detracts from the effectiveness of your image.  “Watch your corners” and “Avoid bright spots” are two phrases that I have heard more often that I wish.  Once voiced, the power of suggestion being what it is, an image so identified is marked for good...at least until the problem is rectified.

Case in point: a judge at a recent competition really liked my infrared image of Manhattan shot through the cabling of the Brooklyn Bridge.  But, he also singled out a bright spot in the lower-right corner of the photo (caused by the afternoon sun shining directly on a building’s face).  I had absolutely never paid any attention to it and in fact had never even noticed it...until he pointed it out.  Then it became as a grain of sand in my eye, a pebble in my shoe.  Every time I looked at what I had thought was a pretty good image, all I saw was that small bright square in the corner.  Small it may have started; quickly it became the cyclopean eye of an oncoming train.  Using Nik Software’s Viveza I burned in the offending area enough so that now I again see the bridge and not that Macbethean damned spot.

More recently, I posted a series of images from a portrait shoot onto the critiquing forum of Photography Review.  A good group of folks ‘reside’ there who are diverse in their approach to photography and facile at critiquing images gently but accurately.  To this end, they actually offer useful suggestions on your posted images (rather than the useless “awesome photo, dude!” you see in other online venues).  One image I posted I really was quite happy about and generally the critiquers were complementary as well.  However, a couple of them dinged me on two distracting highlights that for them subtracted from the image.  I, of course, again, never noticed them until they were pointed out and then I couldn’t stop noticing them!

The ‘solution’ for these two episodes is to either not listen to people or become more vigilant at catching elements that can detract from your photographs before you snap the shutter.  I think it is obvious which direction I’ll take.  But what if the power of suggestion changes the way you see a photograph?

I posted an image online that I thought showed a very unique perspective.   I was in southern Utah in February exploring some of the new wilderness areas around St. George.  In particular there is a large swath of redrock desert that acts as a transition area of sorts between the Basin and Range expanse, the Colorado River Plateau and the Mojave Desert.  Called Cottonwood Canyon Wilderness Area, it is generally dry but there is this one stream – Quail Creek – that flows from the Pine Valley Mountains and eventually joins the Virgin River downstream from Zion National Park.  I spent the better part of a morning photographing the small pools and even smaller waterfalls against the soaring red walls.  Over one particular short fall I positioned myself to capture the water as it flowed between the five legs of my tripod and me and out and over the rock wall.  Using a 10mm at f/22 the angle is extreme capturing the scene literally inches in front of my toes, the tumbling water just beyond and below, the pool. Once posted on Flickr, I had several people comment that the perspective was very strange, to the point where they had a hard time figuring out what they were looking at.  To them, it seemed that the water was flowing out of the pool (downward in the photo) and not the reverse.  Once I understood what they were seeing, I of course started seeing the image that way as well.  In fact, it is kind of like one of those optical illusions where you see a lamp stand then two people facing each other and then the lamp stand again and then…well, you get the idea.  Of course there is no ‘fixing’ of the photo this time around, just the oscillating behind two ways of seeing it.

The power of suggestion is indeed mighty, which is why I often (but, not always) refrain from using anything other than purely descriptive titles on my work.  But I’ll leave that discussion for another post.

When to Break the Rules: Centering

When first starting out with a camera, we are often admonished for placing a subject smack dab in the middle of a frame.  For good reason: many centered compositions will look static, lifeless and boring.  None of those attributes typically lend themselves to a successful image.

But, it seems so obvious.  After all, when we look at something usually we are looking straight-on, not askance.  But a photograph, no matter how all-encompassing, is a very small and contrived slice of the world.  Even if you are the ‘straightest’ of photographers, when you snap that shutter you have altered the perception of the world via that image.  That’s why photographs are different than seeing and this should be the first revelation that photography is not merely recording a scene, but instead presenting it.

Of course, it does depend upon what your intent is with the composition you are creating.  Perhaps you want a static scene.  Maybe even a boring one.  I’ve certainly seen plenty of images that fit in that category and in some cases that may even have been the intent of the photographer.  But, the composition with the subject matter plopped in the middle of the frame will often look unbalanced, bothersome, the result of a snap-shooter.  But, sometimes it also works.

In my searching for lines, angles, and patterns, I will often shoot a scene straight on.  Sometimes it makes perfect sense, intuitively.  And, the images work.  It wasn’t until an art professor stated the obvious, that it clicked why these compositions are successful: symmetry.  Often we can create dynamic tension (usually a good thing!) in a photograph by shifting our composition to reflect the aesthetic logic of the Rule of Thirds or the Golden Ratio.  But some subjects and scenes do well to be presented in a centered fashion.  This works when symmetry is achieved and the centering is performed on a dominant subject with strong leading lines.

The concept of symmetry we can understand pretty readily, but the caveat of subject dominance is equally important.  Imagine a rock spire or tall building viewed from afar.  The scene might work quite well if composed with the subject (assuming the spire or building is the subject) off-center.  But center the subject and even with a very symmetrical landscape, the image will likely appear static and uninteresting with the subject lost in panorama.  Now, move in on the object and really make it the subject of interest and centering will work.  This is especially the case if there are strong lines leading to and/or radiating out from the subject.  Our eyes move into and out of and back into the scene.  Dynamism is created!

Some subjects lend themselves naturally to this kind of treatment because they are imbued organically with that essence of symmetry.  Trees, buildings, shadows, and even people can be perfect fodder for centering.  However, a blanket straight-on approach to subjects will not work.  You need to be able to see the symmetry that is unique to every subject and scene in order to express it via an image.

Bottom-line: don’t be afraid of creating centered compositions. Just know the ‘rules’ so you know when, and how, to successfully break them.

21st Century Religious Wars

A recent posting on a local photography forum I belong to prompted a flurry of posts that currently number around 120 plus a couple of spinoff threads. The discussion and exchanges were at times playful, petulant, passionate and opinionated, testy, boastful, once or twice borderline rude, sometimes fact-based and more often emotionally-driven. In the end — if there is an end — no ones’ minds were changed. Sound familiar? Scan backward 10 years or so and you know what the topic was: Film vs. digital. That poor horse was flogged to death, several times over. Like Lazarus, or some silly teen zombie movie, coming back to life long past when its pulse gave up the ghost.

We don’t hear much about analog versus digital anymore. Despite the fact that film shooters are still out there — as are a few of us vinyl record owners — digital photography and music has won the war. The topic of this recent post is nearly as old: Mac versus PC. The question was not quite phrased that way, but that is the path the conversation took. There were a few “it doesn’t matter” ... “whatever you are comfortable with/can afford” ... “I use Linux”, but generally it was all about “mine is better and here is why” with arguments that were neither new nor terribly convincing.

Half way through the thread it took a predictable detour: Nikon versus Canon. Then the knives came out. Well, not really, but the heat was raised.

I’m not sure why these types of discussions generally take on an argumentative Manichean flavor, but I assume we as humans are more comfortable with clearly black and white choices, when the world is of course poly-chromatic.

As a Mac-Linux-Windows computer user and a Pentax photographer I trod a different path. But, really...who cares? As others have pointed out, they are just tools; it’s what you do with them that counts. All of this us-versus-them arguments are the photographers’ version of the 16th century Wars of Religion, albeit without the bloodshed, mayhem and stake-burnings, fortunately. Some, of course, look at these ‘discussions’ as entertaining maybe even informative. Perhaps, but also some like to cook and others merely stir the pot (while the bulk wait impatiently to eat!). To me they seem like a monumental waste of time (see: here I am writing about them!) and in the end I fall back on the wisdom of the neo-street-philosopher and quasi-celebrity of the early 1990’s, Rodney King who said, “Can we all get along?” Amen.

One Man's Liberation is Another's Limitation

On the drive south for a several day trip to the sandstone lands of Utah and northern Arizona, a fellow photographer asked me what gear I had with me. My normal field kit, I declaimed, comprised of two straight DSLRs, two converted infrared DSLRs, a panorama film camera, and lenses ranging from 10mm to 500mm. Politely he asked if all that equipment wasn’t a burden. Au contraire, I said, I find it liberating.

For the next 25 miles or so, we discussed the different, and quite contrary viewpoints. He, with one film SLR and a couple of lenses, felt that it was the essence of liberation as he didn’t need to worry about, much less lug around, a lot of equipment. I understand that perspective and employ it when I am strolling around downtown or perhaps in a small village in Provence. But, for me, photography is also about possibilities and I feel those increase if I have the camera gear to extend and capture my vision. That does not mean that I carry – or hire a Sherpa to carry – all my equipment in the field. Whether traveling overseas or to southern Utah, I can easily leave in the hotel or the vehicle, what I feel I don’t need on a given day. Decisions are made based on locale, likely subject matter, lighting, time of day, and my mood. I don’t always make a perfect decision, but I usually have a range of equipment to closely match the conditions and my inclinations. Limit the gear, limit the decisions, but also limit the possible outcomes. So I believe.

The range of focal lenses probably makes sense to most photographers, but why so many camera bodies? Though never a Boy Scout, being prepared is not only a motto…it makes a lot of sense. I’ve had equipment stolen as well as damaged on trips. Back-ups saved me from being merely a camera-less tourist. There are also times – especially in urban environments replete with the micro and macro details – where having one body mounted with a telephoto and another with a medium or wide-angle zoom lens, allows me to capture a wide range of subject matter, from gothic gargoyles looming high above to panoramas of narrow medieval streets.

Photography is as much about possibilities as it is actualities…perhaps even more so. After all, we strive to match on paper (or screen) what we see in our mind’s eye. We don’t always realize that ideal, but the pursuit keeps us motivated. How you achieve that goal is your liberation.