Baby Talk

The past few weeks Everly and I have been keeping busy. From walks, to reading, feeding,  sleeping, dancing, singing, and trying to eat my fingers. Oh, and the occasional pose for a picture.  You know, baby things. An end of a two week era has fallen upon us. I find myself comparing my experience caring for a baby like caring for my business; my baby (if that makes sense). Have to find new ways to make things work. Prevent Everly from getting bored and crying. Prevent my clients from getting bored and moving on. Must keep things fresh and exciting. With that! I tried something a little different in the editing room. And I'm a-likin'!

"Lisa, please be quiet. I am trying to think." She tells me.

Enjoy your weekend!! I'm so stoked, Laura, a friend and fellow blogger, is making her way over to The Emerald City via Louisiana. Keeping my fingers crossed her flight makes it out. Curse you, Isaac. 

Ironies and Oddities of the Photography Business

Anthony will be guest blogging for me for a few days. Enjoy the eccentric meanderings of Lisa V Lupo Photography’s most valued employee.

Photography and the photography business host some interesting ironies and oddities. These are the emergent phenomena that come into existence somewhere in the space between photographer, subject, blogosphere, and social media. I present a few for your consideration. I've included a few old photos (well before professional photography was ever on the radar) for some topical amusement as you read.

Mind your head. This could get a little weird.

1. 'Amateurs' and 'Professionals'
   What does the phrase 'amateur photographer' actually mean? It is often used to identify photographers that are learning, inexperienced, or not very good. A 'professional photographer' is a photographer that takes pictures for a living. Professionals satisfy the requirements of clients. As I see it, the distinction between 'amateur' and 'professional' is not one of skill but purpose. The amateur takes pictures because he or she wants to. Professionals usually also want to take pictures for the sake of it, but they must produce a deliverable to a client. This highlights where the budding amateur-turned-professional photographer must adopt a change in attitude. As I see it (warning: opinion to follow), a professional photographer should seek to influence the client's expectations--almost like an artistic consultant. But the client does not, should not, and will not fundamentally change their expectations. The professional photographer meets the client halfway. For this reason, the amateur photographer (or the professional on a personal project) is capable of being an artist in the truest sense of the word. Ideally, there shouldn't be any artistic compromise, or fettering of his/her artistic vision. It is for this reason that 'amateur' is, ironically, something of a philosophical/artistic badge of honor. Now, there are many professional photographers who have amassed a cult following of their own, distinct, uncompromised style-- so take what I say as a theoretical observation.
   
   

   

   For these reasons, amateur body-building and amateur
   photography are very different.

   
   
2. Photography Blogs are for _________. 
   I'm going to go out on a limb and venture to guess some statistics. I suspect (and that is all it is, I'd gladly change my opinion if given some evidence) that most popular (well-established) photography blogs get more weekly hits from photographers than potential clients. [Because most of our traffic comes from Facebook, this is not true for this blog.] Or, at the very least, photographers comprise a much larger percentage of total hits than one who doesn't give these things much thought would expect. Obviously, photography blogs exist to connect with clients. But the average client only searches the blogosphere for photographers on special occasions when a photographer is needed. Photographers, thousands of them, spend much more time blog-lurking. It's both market research and a free exchange of photography and business tips. This is why you will notice that many professional photographers spend as much time blogging about the technical aspects of photography as they do blogging for clientele. He/She that ropes in the photography demographic generates many hits, thereby extending their reach and Google footprint. This really helps when potential clients Google search for photographers in a certain area. This is one of the oddities of the internet age.
   
   

   

   Pfft. Amateur.

   
   
3. Are You Buying a Lifestyle or a Memory?
   This is another one we owe to the digital age. This is not a cynical idea, remember, I'm only presenting observations. Let me just come out and say it: today, clients are looking to buy a lifestyle more so than in the past when a client's only concern was immortalizing a moment. It used to be that a photographer would capture film images, and those that attended the wedding (mostly the family) would purchase prints of these images. Nowadays, these images are digital and therefore instantaneously global. They will capture momentary stardom on Facebook, at which point they will be viewed by hundreds of friends and possibly thousands of acquaintances. The digital 'image' we project on the internet will go much further in shaping others' impressions of us than actual interaction, for actual interactions are limited by time and space in a way that digital footprints are not. Now, old timers might begrudge this reality, but it just is what it is. One consequence of this is what I think we may call (if we are permitted a certain academic baroque-ness) a 'homogenization of photographical style.' Style, or lifestyles, propagate much faster than ever before thanks to the internet machine. A clever photographer will therefore sell a lifestyle 'image' to his or her clients, which means that photographers need to present portfolios that can be characterized as affluent, hip, or whatever. My observation is that many portfolios seem very 'insert face here' to me, which is to say that roughly the same few poses, locations, or fashions that happen to be trendy characterize every shoot in such a way that they do not feel unique or different from each other. This may not be a bad thing, for you get what you pay for and you pay for what you want. Getting what you want is a good thing. I think that Lisa and I try to differentiate shoots as much as possible on purpose (read our mission statement), but then again, photographical style is part habit (which we, as humans, are very hesitant to change) and there are only so many ways to take a picture of a person. The goal isn't necessarily to be different from everyone else, for while people are unique in some ways, many people are similar in most ways. The goal is, however, to bring the person through the image in way that really resonates. This is one of the things I've been working on here in Afghanistan. 

This probably isn't a lifestyle anyone would willingly buy into...

I bet if you dig deep enough, there is some quirky yet fascinating detail of the human condition that accounts for any given x deemed 'ironic'. I'll let you ponder that one.

Epilogue

Is item (3) above interesting because it's true (assuming it is true) or because it's true yet widely unnoticed (or is it true only because it's widely unnoticed)? Let me draw a parallel from history that I hope indicates that this phenomenon is not new-- but recycled. In the 1860s, say, a person may afford to have one or two pictures taken of him or her in the course of his/her life (I'm making up history as I go along, I can't nail the decade precisely, but the following description should fit some period in the 19th/early 20th century, hopefully). For this reason, the Subject got all dressed up in his/her Sunday's best. The image was to be the image he/she would be remembered by, not unlike painted portraits of old. If an image is to be a legacy, should we be surprised that it departs from reality (or emphasizes selected facets thereof)? Another side-point on (3). It's important to note that 'being different' is not a virtue unto itself. 'Thinking different', as Apple might say, seems much better as a catch-phrase than a fully-fledged ideology (which, when embodied, resembles something closer to insanity). 'Principled thinking' is a much better way to characterize where Lisa and I are going. Same or Different-- it doesn't matter. What matters is that the principle, whatever we decide it may be-- is upheld. The principle is all that matters.

This picture is like the oddities and ironies of photography in what way?
 

The Tourist

 Anthony will be guest blogging for me for a few days. Enjoy the eccentric meanderings of Lisa V Lupo Photography’s most valued employee.

I may have just finished my most interesting roll of film to date. In the span of 15 frames, I captured a convoy (from the inside), a death celebration (almost like a post-funeral charity-event), and some assorted Afghan street scenes. [Expect to wait another month for the film to get sent, developed, and scanned.] For those that are queasy, be prepared for a few pictures of locals tearing strips of meat from a severed bull’s head. One elder waived an uncooked cow ankle at me, hoof included. Not really sure if that’s an invitation or warning.

At any rate, thank goodness for the latitude of Portra 400. I should get away with a few hasty draws.

Yes, I will sing the praises of film until my dying days, but only a fool brings a 37-year-old MF film camera on mission out-and-about in Afghanistan. There are easier ways to get the results you want. Which leads me to a simple and obvious revelation: film is for controlled situations, digital is for everything else.

Allow me to describe what I look for in a picture taken in Afghanistan. [I wish I had more pictures to show you, but Lisa hasn’t received my second batch of film yet. Film will teach you patience.]

1. Old or ‘Afghanned’ infrastructure. To ‘Afghan’ something is to find a creative and undoubtedly dangerous solution to an engineering problem. This is a term of endearment. If I had a super-telephoto lens, I’d capture a few shots of children climbing on burned out Toyota shells in the junkyard behind our compound. Tetanus anyone? I never pass up an opportunity snap a shot of decaying infrastructure— a bit of a cliché I admit. But Afghanistan serves these up on a desiccated platter.
   
   
   
    What you can't see in this picture: the broken glass littered all over the floor.
   
   
2. Soldier Portraits. I take the same approach to soldier portraits as portraits of American civilians. I want the soldier to look at his picture years from now and fail to force back a smirk. Most of the pictures I take are facetious or tie into an inside joke that has come to characterize the soldier’s personality. Then there are classic portraits (those that are simply aesthetically appealing), and those that incorporate some narrative or editorial aspect. Certain soldiers are better suited for these latter portraits than others. I should be doing a wounded-warrior-type editorial shoot in the next few days. These photos are the most difficult. I’ve found you have to walk a fine line between melodrama and interesting. I’ve found that reality can be frustratingly melodramatic at times.
   
   

   
   
   
3. Afghans, especially Elders. Tight, close portraits of older Afghans are especially telling. The turbulence of the last 50 years of Afghanistan is, to borrow a phrase, ‘etched in the scars and deep wrinkles of their faces.’ They are a fascinating portrait subject. Most Afghans love having their pictures taken, so these shots are common and fairly easy. Explaining to them that I’m using a film camera that doesn’t display the picture on an LCD screen, however, is much more difficult.
   
   
   
    Notice the little flower in his hand. These portraits are teeming with interesting subtleties. Hopefully Lisa gets my others soon.
   
   
4. War Icons. I love taking pictures of items that have come to symbolize this era of warfare: HESCO barriers, concertina wire, bullet-holes, ‘ECM-off’ signs, military working dogs, etc. Many of these items will soon fade into obscurity, like the C-rations or Lucky Strikes of old.
   
   
   
    The whole 'concrete barrier over gravel' design concept probably won't catch on stateside, fortunately.
   
   
5. Anything else of interest. I am an amateur photographer. My approach is not results-driven (here at least). I experiment for the sake of it. So I like to try different lighting situations, films, etc.

 

 I love film color.

The NVG bag tied to my kit contains an outmoded and ungainly photographic relic. While I might look like a tourist, I’m without a doubt more intellectually engaged with my surroundings than those around me. The world is fundamentally different through a waist-level finder, which is why photography in Afghanistan is as much a performance art as anything else.

Epilogue

It takes roughly a month to develop a roll of film shot in Afghanistan, which is why all the pictures above (with the exception of one, guess which?) have been recycled from previous shoots. Allow me to explain: no one (reputable) develops film in Afghanistan. This means that my film has to travel from Afghanistan to the US by mail. This can take up to three-weeks. (Side note: Mail sent to Afghanistan arrives in roughly one week, or three times as fast by comparison.) When Lisa receives my film, she has to send it to a professional photo lab, in our case, Richard's Photo Labs in SoCal (another 2-3 days). There's roughly a 5-business day turnaround from RPL before the scans are available for download. All told, this process takes about a month. On the horizon, however, should be a series of Portra 160 and 400 portraits and some experimental shots taken with Ilford 3200 black & white pushed to 6400. I'm very excited for the Ilford to come out: should be pretty grainy and edgy.

Zoom With Your Feet

Anthony will be guest blogging for me for a few days. Enjoy the eccentric meanderings of Lisa V Lupo Photography’s most valued employee.
 

In the interest of providing unsolicited opinions on some of photography’s most futile debates, I present my collected thoughts on the prime vs. zoom lens debate. For those that have heard this debate many times over, I promise that I intend to spin this argument in a slightly different direction.

A prime lens is a lens that has a fixed focal length. It does not zoom in and out. A zoom lens is, obviously, a lens that can zoom in and out. As a general rule, a professional prime lens is usually cheaper than a professional zoom lens. Prime lenses typically have slightly better optics and larger maximum apertures. A good zoom lens, however, can replace the need to carry several primes; however, zoom lenses tend to be much heavier.

One can certainly buy both prime and zoom lenses, but this will likely result in some optical redundancy. For those that want to maximize bang-for-the-buck, the prime vs. zoom decision is usually more of an either/or issue. For the sake of argument, let’s assume that the photographer in question is considering an entirely zoom or entirely prime lens collection for portraiture and wedding-type events. Obviously, bird-watchers will have different decision criteria— so take that into account.

Of course, both zoom and prime lenses are more than capable of capturing outstanding images. Portrait photographers will probably prefer the depth-of-field options available with f 1.4-and-below apertures (read: tiny depth-of-field and super-creamy bokeh). Zoom lenses come in handy at events, during which ‘being close’ to the subject can often be disruptive.

Those that have been reading the blog the past few days will notice that most of my posts share an underlying theme: your equipment will define your approach to photography without you even realizing it. Human beings are creatures that prefer the path of least resistance. The equipment we possess outlines the ways in which we can engage the subject with the camera. Combine these two facts and it becomes very likely that your equipment will be instrumental to your photographical habit-formation.

Here’s a thought for you. Imagine two photographers, both of which prefer the path of least resistance (or, the easiest solution to his/her compositional objective). Suppose Red Photographer gets a Nikkor 24-120mm (f4, I  believe) because he/she prefers the lens reach at 120mm. Green Photographer uses a Nikkor 50mm 1.4G. In order to achieve the same 4’x6’ composition, Green Photographer will have to stand 9ft away from the Subject, and Red Photographer (preferring to stay as far away as possible from the subject) will stand 20 ft from the Subject (@ 120mm, or full zoom extension). [I did the math on equivalent fields of view. We are ignoring foreshortening effects and other inherent compositional differences.]

 Using math to prove a point? Unheard of.

I think I did the math correctly on the diagram (no promises, as I never was a math guy). The interesting point of the diagram is that in order to recompose the picture, say, from a 90-degrees to the right, the Red Photographer needs to walk twice as far (we’re ignoring secants, or cutting across, for which there would still be a significant difference). Hence, for all re-compositions that require a change in perspective, with the exception of zooming in and out, it takes more effort to get the shot with the zoom lens.

There are several reasons why you shouldn’t take this argument too seriously. The only point I want to emphasize is that the further you are away from the subject, the less likely, in my opinion, you are to move around and get different and interesting perspectives. Simply put, your camera has enabled you to stay further from the subject to get your shots. Your camera has made you lazy and less dynamic.

A disciplined zoom photographer can ignore these problems by getting into the habit of operating within the middle of their zoom range whenever possible. This should give them the most compositional options. Of course, having a 24mm-to-whatever focal length range has the added advantage of enabling wide-angle shots on the fly. At any rate, always take into account the effects of your gear on your shooting technique.

Epilogue

Of course, Lisa and I are prime lens photographers, so we’re somewhat biased. The limitations of prime lenses can be worrisome if you do not have a second camera set-up and ready to go. Those with a back-up camera often mount a wide-angle lens on it in order to be prepared for spontaneous wide-angle opportunities. Again, I think prime lenses help hone one’s skills (for reasons mentioned in Thursday’s blog post), but there is no doubt that zoom lenses come in handy. Remember, pro-quality zoom lenses are very heavy and large—so think about how much weight you can comfortably carry around your neck for several hours. I find that I would rather prefer to carry more weight in my camera bag and less on my camera than vice versa. Camera bags tend to be more comfortable. To each his/her own.

Tacoma In 5 Miles

Busy week! To enjoy the last few days of summer, little Everly (whom I have been caring for this week) and I go on walks - 5.6 mile walks, to be exact. She dreams in her stroller. And I take pictures of my surroundings. Here are just a few of my favorite from this week. 

Enjoy your weekend! Anthony has some great stuff for you all next week (as I'll be MIA again). If you all have any complaints regarding his posts, go ahead and drop them in my suggestion box, haha! Oh, and Anthony, thank you so much for all your help! It means a lot. 

The Philosophy of Photography

Anthony will be guest blogging for me for a few days. Enjoy the eccentric meanderings of Lisa V Lupo Photography’s most valued employee.

I don’t have a highfalutin conception of le artiste or art in general. If briefly studying aesthetics in graduate school taught me anything, it’s that art is best appreciated pre-theoretically, merely as an item that evokes an emotion or stirs the imagination. Post-modern art challenges this idea for the sake of it. Art about art, like the philosophy of philosophy (metaphilosophy), turns the subject on itself, and evaluates the system with the tools internal to that system of thought or expression. Of my few semi-original (ha!) philosophical thoughts, I’ve argued most passionately for the importance of stepping outside of a system of thought when evaluating it (specifically with respect to metaphilosopy). It seems like begging the question to me, but I more or less fell on my sword trying to prove it. After all, if I’m right, then it isn’t the sort of thing that can be proven in a way one would deem properly philosophical. 

If you find this sort of talk nauseating, like I do, then you would probably agree that explaining a philosophy of photography would kill the joy of photography itself. So from here on out, I will use ‘philosophy’ in the spirit of modern ‘pop philosophy’, for which there is a philosophy of everything (from The Simpsons to Radiohead). Without further ado, I present the philosophy of photography—an ultimately misleading title.  

If anything, this is more a way of approaching technologically-enabled art. Photography (film or digital), like many of the digital graphic arts, necessarily involves sophisticated technical apparatuses: camera bodies, lenses, printing equipment, flashes, etc. For this reason, photographers often feel limited by the equipment they possess. This can lead to Gear Acquisition Syndrome (GAS, as psychologists call it), according to which you need to buy and carry as much gear as possible in order to be prepared for every situation. This was the way I thought about photography for several years.

I bought my Mamiya on a whim. I wanted a healthy distraction— not another money suck. Given the constraints of my situation (shooting film in Afghanistan), I had to accept the fact that I would not have the equipment necessary for many shots (e.g. wide-angle, low-light flash photography, tripod long exposures, etc.). I inadvertently began to conceive of photography within the framework of what was possible given my equipment. This was truly a blessing in disguise.

Limitations force you to consider the unique strengths of the equipment you actually have. Limitations teach you to hunt for photographic situations that suit the equipment you have, rather than hunt through your bag to find the equipment that suits your situation. Limitations force you to consider a distinct set of compositional possibilities; in my case: the world through an 80mm f 2.8 lens on a 1975 M645 body w/ waist-level finder. Unlike before, I gladly pass-up photographical situations that I know would be awesome but require a kit I don’t have. I don’t even sweat it. Instead, I hunt for spots that work for me. They are out there, millions of them, if you train yourself to know where to look. 

There are a host of corollaries. Think exposure, for instance. I used to think that my photos were bad because I couldn’t nail the exposure, as if there was some magic setting I couldn’t find. Wrong. My photos were bad because the light was bad. Good images require good light (I do all my shooting now early in the morning, at sunset, or in even shade). The basic idea: I am limited by light. Light is a (if not the) photographic medium. Learning to work within limitations is the key.

Here’s where it gets quasi-philosophical. As I see it, limitations are a primary source of artistic inspiration, especially in photography. It is not being able to do something that makes one want to do it even more—the code we iconoclasts live by. It’s working within limitations that enables us to cognize a manageable space of possibilities from which to select and refine ideas. Total artistic freedom is a burden to everyone except the most genius of geniuses: the Individual that can navigate a space of infinite possibilities and select an optimum alternative. However, I (and most likely you also) cannot. 

It is for art as it is for society. Total freedom makes monsters of men. Society imposes some restrictions on what we may do, and, with the exception of the Individual, we are better for it. (How’s that for a fast-and-loose analogy?)

Here’s this idea spun into a common-sense theory. Seek to limit yourself to what you can handle at your level as a photographer. For amateurs: even if you have a wonderful second lens, do not put it in your bag. Keep it simple, for limitations will set you free. As you improve as a photographer, your ability to manage a large set of compositional possibilities will improve. More of the universe will fit in your head without spilling out your ears. The world’s best photographer (whoever you are, out there) carries more than just an 80mm f 2.8. The key is to limit oneself appropriately. Too much limitation will clip your proverbial wings, too much freedom will stymie your creative process.

As a general rule, people tend to overestimate what they can manage. I’m sure this belief stems from both personal experience and some deep-seeded philosophical premise about human nature. I’ll spare you that one.

Epilogue

Two quick points to follow. (1) Limiting oneself does not entail avoiding high-quality glass or bodies on principle. Limitation is about choice. A pro-quality 80mm f 2.8 does not open any more photographical possibilities than does an el-cheapo 80mm f 2.8. (Many pro-quality lenses feature larger apertures, which do offer additional compositional options— but this range of choice should be pretty manageable.) But a pro-quality lens will improve image sharpness and color, which is always a good thing. Whether it’s worth the cost is up to you, but even this ‘philosophy of photography’ won’t necessarily save you from GAS. (2) Don't you see how someone espousing this philosophy would be drawn to film photography? By the same token, if film is by default more limiting than digital, does this mean that digital photography is ultimately a greater medium of photography? I think so. So what? Film is fun and certainly dynamic enough to provide a world-class photographer more than enough compositional options (excluding, perhaps, low-light situations). Phooey.

5 Items of Incredible Photographic Value (for under $50!)

Anthony will be guest blogging for me for a few days. Enjoy the eccentric meanderings of Lisa V Lupo Photography’s most valued employee. 

Everything slows down in Afghanistan during Eid week (post-Ramadan), permitting me enough time to push out another blog entry. For your consideration, I present five often overlooked items of incredible photographic value (for under $50): 

1.      Folding step ladder— Take a step above eye-level photography [I couldn’t resist]. A folding step ladder extends your vertical reach and opens a wealth dramatic compositional opportunities. A step ladder is an invaluable asset for vertically challenged photographers that prefer normal lenses and tight portraits (case in point: Lisa) —unless you enjoy asking the subject to crouch. Interesting perspectives make for interesting photos. Experiment and see if you like the way the world looks from 9 ft (or more) in the air. You probably have one of these tucked away in a closet anyway. If you don’t, you can get a sturdy, lightweight step ladder for under $50. Just be careful not to fall off. (I’ve even used a step-ladder to double as a tripod—not a recommended solution, but it works.)

Note the dirty towel. Somebody 'borrowed' my step ladder to dry their laundry.

By the way, this is not an authorized way to wear the 'boonie' cap; but it

prevents the brim from getting in the way when checking focus. 

2.      Gray Card— Do you trust digital white balance algorithms? I know Lisa spends most of her time in LR and PS correcting white balance. Forget the Kelvin slider; there are several ways to use a gray card to simplify your digital workflow. For those of you that know LR or PS, you know that you can select a pixel of an image that is supposed to be ‘neutral gray.’ LR/PS will correct the colors of the whole image to remove any color cast from the pixel you selected, thereby correcting the WB. But if you don’t have a target neutral gray pixel in your image, you have to rely on less accurate methods (read: trial and error) to set the WB. Gray (18%) cards provide a perfectly neutral gray with which to set the WB in LR/PS. For every lighting situation you encounter, take one quick picture with the gray card in the same light as your subject. In PS/LR, select a pixel on the gray card to set the WB. Apply this WB setting to every other image in the same lighting situation (batch process to save time). Instant success. (You can even use a gray card to set the WB in your camera; check your manual.)

You can also use a gray card to standardize your exposures. Take a spot meter reading of a gray card in the same lighting situation as your subject. Decide how much exposure compensation you need achieve the look you like. Put the card away and take the picture. Repeat the process when you move to a new lighting situation. If you meter this way, you won’t rely on your camera’s sometimes unpredictable metering algorithms. All for less than $10.

3.      Step-up Ring Adapters— Lenses come in a variety of filter sizes. A step-up ring allows you to screw on, say, a 72mm circular polarizer on a 52mm filter-size lens. Instead of buying three medium-quality filters, you can buy one high-quality filter and a series of inexpensive step-up rings. Bingo.

4.      Photo Tools App by hcpl— I haven’t tested many Android apps for photographers, but I really like this one. This may not be the prettiest app on the market, but it includes a ton of features of interest to photographers. The app calculates depth-of-field, estimates blue/golden hour times (using your location), reads EXIF-data (information about how the picture was taken: aperture, ISO, focal length), calculates field of view, and performs several additional functions you will never need. The best part: it’s free.
 

5.      Depth-of-Field Chart— A depth-of-field chart shows the nearest and furthest point in focus for a given distance-to-subject, aperture, and film/sensor size. It sounds complicated when described, but it’s actually very easy. Make and print a depth-of-field chart for your camera and lenses. Print, laminate, and pocket it. Now, instead of squinting at your LCD to check DoF (or squinting through the viewfinder with the DoF button depressed), you can compose with DoF in mind. This really helps for group shots (especially with film) in low-light situations when you can’t simply stop-down to guarantee focus. Compose with ‘wiggle-room’ in mind. 

 Fits nicely in a green-leader book.

These are a few of cost-effective and seldom blogged about items that, in my limited experience, are incredibly useful to photographers.

Epilogue

Why bother with a gray card at all? Why not just spot meter on the subject’s cheek (applying exposure compensation as your style dictates)? Ultimately, you should do what works best for you. Certain methods of determining exposure are more conducive to efficiently reproducing specific styles. One key difference between those that use a gray card and those that use a consistent but less formal method hinges on when one prefers to make artistic decisions. For example, if you build over-exposure into your method of taking meter readings (e.g. 'meter for the shadows' photographers), then you’ve embedded an artistic decision within a picture-taking habit. I prefer to determine the most accurate exposure first (or that which most closely reports reality), then decide whether or not I want to over or underexpose for artistic reasons. I find that this slows me down and forces me to think critically about exposure before I release the shutter.

If you’re like me, then using the gray card provides you with a consistent and accurate metering (true to reality) methodology. In theory, spot metering a gray card is the same as taking an incident light reading with a light meter.* Photographers still use handheld light meters because light meters are consistent, predictable, accurate, and simple. Spot metering a gray card is a cheap way to achieve this same consistency.

*In practice, not all light meters are calibrated to 18% gray. This is why using a digital camera spot meter and gray card may require that you apply slight exposure compensation (should be less than +.5 EV). You should only need to do this once; the particular light situation doesn’t matter.