I do a little moonlighting for a small computer and imaging company that rhymes with Snapple. They are under the mistaken impression that my nearly 40 years behind the camera means I know what I’m talking about. Still, I like the challenge. One of my first tasks as their Creative Storytelling Specialist (yeah, I don’t know what that means, either) was to help the engineers understand mood as it relates to picture-making.
So to get a head start, I did some poking around the internet in hopes that people with greater minds than I had already articulated the idea of mood. Mostly what I found was the advice to “put more mood in your photographs,” as if I were being told to add more salt to every recipe. Not helpful.
The problem with mood is it’s not really one thing. Add mood? What kind of mood? If mood is about emotional connection then surely we can be more specific about which emotions. But before we disregard the advice entirely, it’s worth acknowledging that it comes from a good place, a recognition of the power of mood.
The desire for more mood in our photographs—not unlike the desire for more salt—is a desire for more flavour. Only in this case, the flavour is emotion. It’s a desire to move beyond the pursuit of perfection in our images toward something a little more poetic. Poetry is about feelings; unless you’re working as a forensic photographer, feelings are probably something you hope to stir with your photographs. And that requires interpretation. It requires making choices that sway an emotion one way or the other. It requires taking some risks because almost every choice that leads to more emotion in our images is a choice that deviates from the playbook we were all given with our first cameras. It’s a move away from average and towards more flavour. Pass the salt, please.
So back to my early efforts to articulate mood as a powerful tool (more like a toolbox, really) in photographic expression. Once I got over the confusion about why so little insightful information was out there, here are the first three realizations I had.
You Can Learn Mood
Mood isn’t the result of secret techniques, or even advanced techniques. It’s more a result of refined sensibilities. Maybe it’s also a matter of priority. It’s in looking for it, chasing it. It’s in recognizing it when you see it and knowing which choices can amplify those emotions through the image. And those are all present as visual cues that we can see and learn from. You can learn this.
Set the camera aside for a moment and think about a photograph that you love—one that stirs something in you. Maybe one of the iconic images that made so many of us feel the power of the photograph and want to pick up the camera ourselves so we could find that power and beauty. What makes you feel the way you do about that photograph? Is it only the subject matter?
I love bears, but not every picture of a bear makes me feel anything. Some make me feel bored. They lack mood. But the ones I love? It’s more than a bear. Bear in great light, perhaps. What kind of light is it, and what did the photographer do with it? Maybe it’s a bear in a great moment. Maybe it’s the camera placement or a story implied by other elements in the frame. Maybe—probably—it’s all that. Whatever it is, you feel it because of something you see. And if it’s something you can see, it’s something you can learn.
In short, don’t spend more time studying your technical tools than you spend figuring out your mood tools.
Light Is Everything
The first thing we look to when we chase mood is light. And so it should be. Light is so often the first thing that hooks us. We feel something about light that resonates with us. We feel differently about backlight than about front-lit scenes. We feel differently about softer light than light that’s more direct and makes harsh shadows. We respond to the shadows and reflections created by light. Where light is concerned, what we seem not to respond to is, well, boring light. Average light. That’s not to say you can’t make expressive photographs in boring light, but it won’t be light to which we respond but something else. A different hook. So if light is so powerful, why do photographers insist on painting with anything but light that has the power of an emotional hook? If you want mood, look to the light.
It’s Not All About Light
At the same time, it’s not all about light. There’s a reason photographers use different focal lengths, and it’s not just to “get more reach” or get more in the frame. It’s because different lenses feel differently. They interpret a scene differently. So do the places in which we put the camera. And the weather. And our choice of moment. Of course light isn’t truly everything. All our choices, all the elements, are everything.
And that’s the problem with “put more mood into your photographs.” It’s every decision we make—or it can be. But here’s the other problem with mood: there are no rules. There are hooks, elements and choices that we do or don’t respond to, but there’s no playbook. Not really. And so it comes down to having a sensitivity to those hooks, taking risks, and knowing what stirs the OMGILT (Oh my God, I love that!). Many things stir emotion in our images—and nearly infinite combinations of them—but you won’t love to use them all. You won’t love the same colours I do. You won’t be as excited by the same focal lengths or perspectives nor drawn to the same subjects or stories.
Your Turn. There’s a Prize.
Are you up for an exercise? How about if I put a prize on the line? In the comments on my blog, tell me about that photograph I asked you to imagine a few paragraphs ago. Describe it. Tell me why you feel the way you do about it. It’s probably not just one thing, but many. What gives that photograph its mood, or what makes you feel the way you do about it? Don’t hold back. I’ll draw one person’s name from the comments below for a free enrollment in my next course, which may or may not be available very soon and is all about mood and making photographs that elicit a more powerful emotional response. Who’s in?
For the Love of the Photograph,
David
Comments
I like landscapes and people photographies. I use a lot of evening and morning light to provide mood clues. They have warm colors and I like them. Nonetheless, I also use the contrast to evoke mood (with BW and color), sometimes the movement, the point of view, cropping the picture (I like squares) and mirroring the image.
Rhein II by Andreas Gursky.
The image would be a bit accepted in any camera club I know, it shouldn’t work but somehow it does.
The light is flat, the horizon is on the center line and the sky is grey and dull. There is no “subject”. It’s not even an abstract, it’s clearly a canal, a path, some grass and lots of sky. I know it is heavily processed with many things removed.
But it speaks to me, of simple beauty in a man made place, of peace, of space. The expanse of river shown is small but feels like it goes on for ever. I can imagine sitting on a bench by the path and seeing this view. It calms me when I look at the image. I think of it when I meditate. If that’s not portraying mood I don’t know what is!
A photograph that inspires me, that makes me look and search for the deeper meaning in it. Eyes that haunt me. I once took a photograph of a homeless guy in Kailua-Kona, Hawaii. He had long hair and his arm was full of a beautiful tatoo. But his eyes – the look in his eyes, he was so desperate for something! I took this photograph more than 25 years ago. But I always think about him, what his life was like since I took that photograph of him
The image I am thinking of was taken in the Kakadu National Park, in the Northern Territory in Australia. It was just the start of the wet season, and from the top of the rocky outcrop called Ubirr you can see for miles. The trees were full of colour – green & brown, the grasses were a vibrant green, due to the earlier rains, the rocks being primarily iron ozzed a reddy tinge, with the various little rock pools full of crystal clear water. The best was the ever changing moody sky which when we arrived was blue and clear, then the clouds rolled in with various shades of grey/black/silver, which off set the vista magically.
Then we saw a flash of lightning in the distance, so as we were standing on a natural lightning conductor, an huge iron rocky outcrop, we then packed up to a more safe environment, but I still captured the scene.
The image that springs to mind is one that I made of the Catalina Mountains in Tucson, Az. The sky is mostly overcast and it looks lilke a storm is on the way. But there’s a break in the clouds and part of the mountain is illuminated in a soft, yellow ethereal light. The rest is in shadow. In the foreground, the desert floor is in partial shadow, leaving only the scrub plants and cacti visible enough to be identified.
The image makes me feel connected to the beauty of the natural world and gives me the sense that the beauty around us is no accident, that its created by a power or a being much more powerful than humans. I guess you’d call that aw, right?
Hi David. Great characterizing the elements of mood. My offering is a cluster of elements making a situation and a story. Your leopard on the hunt image reminded me of a similar situation and a series of moody images that told the story as the light, subject , expressions and situation evolved. We came upon a leopard that our guide knew had recently given birth but no one knew where she kept them. As soon as she saw us, first image, she froze and glared at us with eyes wide open in a challenging expression. We stopped. The engine was turned off. Immediately she moved way slowly in a stalking crouch with her belly almost on the ground. Second image is her disappearing into the shadow and into a thicket, death on the hunt mood. She quickly returned with a wounded duiker in her mouth. She had not killed it so it struggled. She paused and stared at us again, third image. We followed her to where she kept her little ones in a shaded patch with some fallen trees and enough space for what she had planned. She gave the struggling duiker to the small male who practiced leaping on it to try to kill it, and grabbing it by the back of the neck and climbing up on a log to practice dragging it up. The mood evoked a life and death situation for the duiker but also, wonder at how the mom had prepped this teaching situation. Next image was one with humour. The sister approached and the male stopped his practice and held the struggling duiker on the log with his feet and snarled aggressively at his sister to get her too back off. He was not about to share. Her expression large blue eyes evoked empathy from all of us. Meanwhile the mom was not watching the sibling exchange. She lay down facing away from them and was fixated on something in the distance as she lay on the ground. The mood here was one of tension. Suddenly she stood up and uttered a single sound that the siblings instantly and without hesitation read as alarm and they disappeared into different thickets to hide. Next set images, mom grabs the duiker and scrambles up a very tall tree with no branches for at least 8 meters / yards and plants the duiker in the first branch she came across. The light was almost gone but the sunset back lit her climbing, depositing the duiker and standing watching the hyena that now entered the shadowed patch in front of us. The next images were in the dark so our guide shone a light on the hyena and we could see a her sniffing the ground where the duiker had been bleeding and the mom had been positioned on guard. The mood here was the threat, the danger, another hunter on the prowl and one that all leopards know is a danger because they are vicious scavengers. The harsh shadows and the glare in the eyes of the hyena evoked the sense of danger and yet a bit if desperation from the obviously hungry hyena also with young of her own to feed. The series of images told the story and holds attention through changing moods as the characters were added having to react to the opportunities and threats of the moment. So, a cluster of moods, expressions, changes in light, danger, promise, opportunity, warning, and a few light moments of mood to punctuate and make the more serious moments to have more impact.
A brown bear on the right, with his small “family”, 3 ou 4 teddy bears, following their mom’. Just in front of them, at their foot, the path of a dry stream. Teddy”s seems to sniff water remaining traces. The sun is about to set behind them, warm yellow foggy light, lightning their fur. Very long shadows.
That’s a (by example) kind of photogaphy that can move me : dramatic scene with environmental challenges behind. All come together : weather, landscape and the story you want to tell. A story with room for imagination to pursue…
Thank’s for your lesson !
Well, the photo is one to describe the mood, it was taken 20 yrs ago, of my first grandchild sitting by a window , illuminated by the sun and the shadows of the day, touching one of my potted plants, the glow of her blonde hair, the innocence of the moment , the print i made and framed, stolen by my wife for her office, it is back since she retired, the view out of the window of my koi pond and azalea garden, trying to reproduce the mood just yesterday with my youngest granddaughter, impossible to recreate a mood, a once in a lifetime moment , the window and the photo can still elicit emotion and try to replay the mood , of course , impossible , isn’t that why we are photographers ?
HI David,
One of my favorite wildlife photos is also one of my very first meaningful wildlife photos that I ever took. It is of a jaguar on a beach in the Pantanal staring straight down my lens with a dead caiman in his jaws…..a decent enough photo from basic photographic ideals, but it was a jpeg taken on an ultra zoom camera, so not up to the precise technical caliber of photography today. However, it was the first photo that I took on a decent camera in an incredible environment, and of a young male cat that was just coming into dominance, and in a fabulous sighting of him playing with a dead caiman that he pounced on in the water and then played with in a typical silly teenage male cat fashion! I was so entranced by him and by the sighting and by this photo that I decided then and there to learn “real” photography on “real” serious equipment, and to be very dedicated to learning the art and craft of wildlife photography. Several cameras, many lenses, lots of other assorted gear and photographic paraphernalia, and 6 years of experience later, I can honestly say that I feel somewhat like a “real” photographer now, and I just love traveling and learning and observing wildlife in their natural environments, while continuing to learn and refine my photographic (and editing) skills. The photo of Juru down in the Pantanal was the very first photograph that I ever enlarged and framed and he is staring at me at my desk from the wall next to me, as I speak today. And Juru himself is still alive and still dominating in his territory on the rivers of the northern Pantanal!
Well, so I came to the blog post in response to your invite, with a photo in mind: “Face to Face” by Paul Nicklen. Before writing anything, I skimmed the comments already here and found that Jennifer Wolf had already left a comment about the same photo, saying almost exactly what I was going to say. I won’t add any noise on that photo.
So let’s pivot to the severe supercell photos by Mike Mezeul II. I’m not going to pick a specific one, because he has several photos in that category in his portfolio. These photos definitely invoke a mood, but I don’t think it’s the same mood in everyone. There is drama. There is a sense of the immense power and intensity of the weather. There is a feeling that the weather is coming, not going. Some people will think “Cool…exciting”. Others will think “Man, I wish I was there…so cool!”. Still others, like those that have had a harrowing experience with such a storm, will feel dread. Me, I’m in the “wish I was there” camp.
Sometimes a photo can guide the viewer to a particular mood, and sometimes the kind of mood is driven by the lived experiences of the viewer. Or so says this guy in a blog comment who hasn’t really mastered putting mood into his photos yet
Great post David! Thank you. While I do read it, I don’t comment a lot on your blog, but you have me thinking with this one. There have been a few iconic photographs that really got me. Some of them were war photos. I have a hard time looking at those. Some, like the NG “Afghan Girl,” I can barely drag my eyes away from. However, Ruth Orkin’s 1951 “American Girl in Italy” really, really got me.
I’m sure you know it. This is a photo of a young woman walking down a street in Italy where she is surrounded by men. They are blocking her path, whistling, and every eye is focused on her. Her own eyes are downcast, brows furrowed, one hand clutching her throw across her chest, the other carrying a book and bag covering much of her torso, yet her chin is held high as she navigates her way through this “admiring” crowd.
It’s possible that it hit me hard because when I first saw the image, I was a young woman myself, trying to find my way through sexuality – my own and my culture’s. I’d been cat-called, wolf-whistled, blocked, followed, and hounded by boys and men. I was told that I should feel flattered, but it all felt very aggressive and scary to me. The tone of this image resonated with my own experience.
In terms of composition, the woman is dead centre, which is appropriate with the fact that she’s the focus of every man’s attention. Orkin used a rather wide angle; a good choice to show the 15(!) men loitering and lurking in the street. She is walking from right to left, and the man on the far left is cut off, both techniques that create visual tension. The image is shot on a corner, so the viewer can see that she’d already walked the gauntlet a fair distance before getting to the three men blocking her way now. All the faces are in focus; a good f-stop since this is a story told in expressions. While the light is adequate to expose the scene, it’s not about the light. The mood of this image is set by expressions, the positions of bodies, composition, and content.
This image evoked many emotions for me. I felt afraid for the woman. I could feel her discomfort. I felt angry at what I perceive as easy and entitled bullying and intimidation. Even now, I’m drawn in. I’m compelled to see each face, examine each expression. That one is amused, that one is taunting, that one is laughing, that one is bored. None of the men appear outwardly hostile (except for the ones blocking her way), yet collectively they are wildly intimidating. Her expression indicates fear yet defiance in the face of 15 men objectifying her. My stomach twisted then and it still twists now, even though I know the backstory.
The backstory is that the woman was having a great time! She claims that she enjoyed being the centre of attention. She was later quoted, “Public admiration … shouldn’t fluster you. Ogling the ladies is a popular, harmless and flattering pastime you’ll run into in many foreign countries. The gentlemen are usually louder and more demonstrative than American men, but they mean no harm.” And yet that expression on her face does not say, “Yahoo.”
Backstories and politics aside, I do love this image. It spoke to me at a time when I was trying to make sense of my world. Regardless of the woman’s later words and even her actual emotional state at the time, her expression normalised and validated my own feelings of sexualised objectification. If someone were to ask me, what’s it like to be a deer among wolves, this image would be my answer.
One of my favorite photos is one I captured in Hawaii a few years ago. It features an iconic Hawaiian sunset. After spending a few days there and savoring the beauty of that magical time of day, I knew I had to try to capture it. Although I was aware of the countless breathtaking photos taken by talented photographers, I accepted that my attempt might only result in a simple “snapshot.” That was perfectly fine with me.
I dedicated the next couple of days to scouting the area for what I believed would be the ideal location. I also spent time considering the camera settings that would bring my vision to life.
When the moment arrived, I set up my camera on a tripod and carefully reviewed each of the settings I had planned. As the sun began its rapid descent, I captured a series of frames, trying to keep up with its fleeting beauty. Later, when I transferred the images to my computer and opened them in Lightroom, I was amazed. With a few adjustments to align the photo with the vision I had in my mind, I felt completely satisfied and proud of the result.
I decided to have the photo printed on metal, a process that brings out the glowing, vibrant colors of the sunset and adds a stunningly realistic quality. To this day, it remains one of my most cherished photographs.
Hi David
To me mood is a layer of something that conveys some sort of emotion through creating a difference from a straight reporting of a scene. It can be abstract, people, places. It’s something added or exaggerated in the editing to make the viewer focus on this ethereal quality. To some people this evokes mood while to others it leaves them cold. I often hear comments about mood for photos that are impressions of the subject and or dark tones as it’s usually a mood that is sinister or dark whereas it may be harder to achieve in a high key photos. Impressions leave it to the imagination to conjure the feeling or mood and often it’s what you can’t quite see eg foggy scenes, that incite imaginative feelings and thoughts….a dreamlike quality reminiscent of an uncomfortable dream. The most recent moody photo I’ve seen was called Tango of monochrome two dancers looking at each other as they danced closely and I think the monochrome had something to do with creating the mood….so in this case it’s the composition, dark monochrome and the eye contact that creates the perceived realtionship and sultry mood.
Dear David,
This is written per your request, but whether or not it actually is sent is another matter. After 50 years of forensic photography, I agree with you this stuff is way different. On my office wall there are a number of 13×19 pictures that were put up because they were liked. Most, regrettably, must be characterized as, “I was there,” pictures. Three of them are of Monument Valley at sunrise on different days. Two of them are of northern New Mexico during storm light. One is my Golden Retriever jumping over a branch in the snow.
The archives have other contributions. One is a falcon handler with her bird. The bird looks like it’s taking off and she looks like she wants it to hang on to her and she’ll go for the ride. Her’s is sheer joy. Another one shows Capitol Dome in Capitol Reef. The dome is sunlit and the leading valley in shadow. A third shows the Brazos summit in fall with stormy skies.
Synthesizing these, excluding the falcon handler, the conclusion is the contrasts, particularly with respect to physical (not color) temperature, although the two are related. The lighting conditions, mostly sunrises, emphasize this. Johannes Itten noted the force of contrast. I didn’t take his course. Instead opting to take Alchemy 101 from some guy named Merlin.
The dominating contrasts are color, either blue-yellow, or blue-orange. The mood portion of all of these is evocative of the coldness of the snow or sky compared to the warmth of the land. The falcon handler is different. In that case the mood is dominated by her infectious joy.
Regards
This is the first time I’ve read/seen one of your blogs, which I have found informative and thought provoking and an excellent read.
One photograph which I took of my wife in the Lake District in England, she was looking at St Olafs church in Wasdale Head. This always, to me at least, brings a instant lift to my heart, as it’s the look of sheer peace and restfullness in her eyes. Her hands are resting on a drystone wall with her head gently resting on them.
Thanks and best regards
Phil
Thanks for that, Phil, and for dropping by. You’re welcome any time!
Another great share – these contact sheets seem to come in time for my Sunday stroll + camera adventure.
I live in North Vancouver + in my work I take photos of people, primary all spiritual entrepreneurs, + for fun I take photos of nature. Often times I find that people tell me that they can f e e l my photos. Which is a concept I can understand but can be hard for me to place on photos I’ve taken because, well, it’s mine. I’ve seen it, worked with it, knew the circumstances behind it, + edited it.
I can think of a few photos of nature that have an impact on both me + those around me. Sometimes it’s the light. Coming through on the Lynn Valley moss hanging off the trees. Rays shining through on a walk through the forest. I took a landscape photo of a tree trunk with the sun backlit. The sun shines so bright on the sides of the tree, the moss, the lichen. Golden. + the darkness of the trunk such a strong parallel/contrast. The brighter the light the darker the shadow.
In my photos that I take of people I find the most moving of them are the people who are embodied in what they’re expressing. That it’s true to them to represent what they’re representing. If there’s a disconnect between them + what they’re trying to portray it doesn’t translate. There has to be truth in the session. Something that can’t be curated with a style of clothing or a few props.
Hope you have a great day!
I am not 100% sure you can teach mood. I think it is part of our personality to be a bit more aware of things around us. You don’t just switch on awareness when you decide to go out photographing, rather you are always aware of images and interplay. When I began my photo journey as a teen, almost all of my images were crap. But yet already things drew me as being more dramatic, I just did not know right away how to interpret it into a compelling image. I have seen over the years work from those who are technically savvy, but the images have no soul, and somehow I think they never will as it just is not in their personality.
I’m 100% sure I can teach it. Whether others will learn it is another thing. 😂 You’re right, there is a big subjective element, but there are known mood hooks – things to which we respond emotionally in a photograph. You said you’ve seen images from technically savvy people that have no soul, and I too have seen more than my share. It could be that they have nothing to say. But if I might draw an analogy – there are many people who write with perfect grammar and syntax and have huge vocabularies and the best laptops but couldn’t write a line of poetry to save their lives. Poetry can still be taught, though perhaps not to them. Mood can be taught, though perhaps not to every one.
Hi, David. This is a very encouraging Contact Sheet. There are so many “moody” photos that have inspired me. Hard to know which to choose. But here’s one, a black and white landscape: The position of the camera is clearly on a cliff high above a large body of water. Towering over the scene are stupendous storm clouds of a wide range of tonality, from bright to dark, interfolding with one another in a massive threatening posture. Far off, down on the surface of the water, is a very tiny sailboat with its sails picked out by a thin intrusive beam of sunlight. The mood that gets me in this photo is courage in the midst of fright, the defenselessness of our lot in life in the face of the power of Creation. If I were to name the photo, I might name it “My little boat.”
I love this description, Rich! I can almost see it, and can definitely feel it!
Being mostly an aerial landscape photographer, I am always in search of good light, interplay between subjects, shapes and contrast. But I’ve found that my own personal connection to a place I’m photographing seems to bring out images that I feel most strongly about. I return over and over to the same places searching for that feeling. So fun how it’s ever changing. Thank you for the thought provoking article!
Best, Jan
Isn’t light incredible, Jan? It blows me away every time with how it can transform scenes from something un-exceptional into something with such emotional power. I love it! (and now I’m going to look at your work – I love aerials!)
At out camera club we had a slideshow of images some well known, others less so. I am not good at remembering names, but this one image was so striking, I found there was a connection to the space for the people there. The main subject, a child and woman had a loneliness to them adrift among a crowned space where no one else was in focus. The light though!! It cascaded like mist from somewhere above into this building like a veil. This cause the staircase and people on it in the background to look like layers of ghosts. The image was in BW which also gave a feeling or contributed to the feeling because you didn’t have colour to add to the chaos I guess and you could see the tonal range well. This image held the viewer in place. It makes the viewer pause.
I might mention an image I just did. I was surprised by how the mood caught me. It is melancholy or contemplative. The surroundings make the difference I think. Wintery brown leaves line abandoned tracks and weeds grow around. Set the scene. The light is very low near dark. My son posed and sat on the track, looking out of frame towards the fading light but to something unseen looking cold and many defeated. ( actually the tracks were uncomfortable and at freezing temperatures and he was uncomfortable himself and unsmiling.. lol but that helped) in post I had to bring up shadows a lot but that gave me control of light (and mood) I made the scene soft and the tones.. moody? lol I guess the tones could be described as pastel. The fit the season and his clothing and the dead leaves and weeds. But his gaze or connection to ‘his thought’ or the emptiness. I feel other humans can connect to it and feel it.
So mood, is light and atmosphere and a connection
What a scene you just conjured, Pam! 👏
Hi David!
I love looking for mood in great films, tv series, art, books, music, websites, restaurants, people – the list is endless.
I chose a stock photo I saw on the internet a few years back. It has stuck with me ever since.
It’s a simple scene of two white ceramic coffee cups and one piece of cake on a small table in front of a an open wooden window framed with vintage lace curtains looking out onto a serene country garden. The light is soft and gentle with a hint of morning mist.
oops I forgot to tell you why it made such an impression on me.
It conveys the feeling of being there. All the elements in the photo fit together perfectly. It reminds me to enjoy this type of experience more often.
Thanks for that, Ginny. I love how different scenes hit people so differently. It sounds like an image I might have overlooked, especially if I were busy looking for a photograph, but you’ve conjured it beautifully in my imagination.
Mood in photography translates to a connection. An emotional connection. An image that takes you back to a place and time. or maybe the image connects with your aspirations. Just as a memory is not crystal clear neither should the art. The veracious depiction of the subject is not the goal. As in painting, a perfect resemblance of a scene or person is not the point. The image with mood is usually has a soft, dreamy feel to it. One in which the details are missing or unclear. The essence of the image challenges the viewer to interpret and find their own emotional connection. A sharp image with a high depth of field would lack in mood. e.g. a very sharp image of an insect or even a sharp image of a bear beside a stream. However a soft image of a bear with out of focus clear cut behind would invoke emotions of loss.
Thanks for that, Richard. I appreciate you sharing your insights. 🙏
My recent image of last light on Half Dome, was one that came to mind. A typical sunset from a well known place, Olmsted Point. The sunset had a nice warm glow, and I took many images as it crept up the shear granite face. But the sky was dull and lifeless, so I cropped out the sky and zoomed in to the point of seeing only the gentle curves of granite, basking in warm light, with a lone pine tree isolated in the opposing cliff face. That one tree was crying out… “I get to see this show, every night!” What a joy to capture. The silence was almost deafening as I sat and waited for God to move. This mixture of natural elements offers a distinct event, wherein the light turns orange, and scrambles up the shear face and “poof” it is gone. A 10-12 minute show at best, so you have to get your seat early and be ready. The resulting image made it into the NLPA awards season 4 book, so I am very grateful.
Well now I want to see the photograph, Todd! 🙂
https://www.instagram.com/toddreedphotography/ for a sneak preview… was waiting for the book to land in the USA!
When I scrolled through the comments just for curiosity I saw a comment from Carsten, my first name. Oh, somebody with the same first name, was my first thought. But the I recognized it was a post from me from May 2024. The I checked if I clicked on the right link in David’s mail. I think so, as thee blog entry is dated from today. So I do not post again, as I already described the image that still hooks me most.
Yes, you’re right, Carsten. I re-published this post from a previous date. But I love that you were willing to tell me about it again.
An image without mood is an image without a story. This is an image on the Oregon coast on a cloudy twilight. A couple appear on bikes, wearing heavy coats, with their dog trailing along. The mist is heavy but still many people are visible, near and far.
You can view the image here: https://www.tomkostesphotography.com/portfolio/G000058qgc4hAoCs/I0000xGtZ13dL0cI
Thanks for this, Tom. But are you sure it’s as simple as: no story, no mood? What about abstracts and impressionism in photography? Could they be more of a poem than a story? Can there be emotion without narrative? I think so…
Well, I actually said, “no mood, no story.” Abstracts & impressionism have mood and story, and surely poems have mood, and mood usually carries a story, which can be different for each person.
An image that spoke to me fairly recently was that of the Polar Bear sleeping on an iceberg in Svalbard by Nima Sarikhani.
The mood was both obvious and yet emotionally evocative. Watching a solitary Polar Bear sleep on an iceberg portrays a sense of peace but there’s also a sadness from our understanding of their plight as a species.
The light is also beautiful in this shot. If you look up the wide version of the close up, it’s even more powerful. The sea is inky dark, the sky is dramatic and the subject is highlighted perfectly.
A beautiful image and one that spoke to me immediately.
Thanks for that, Andy. I love seeing your name in the comments!
Take 2:
It was snowing so hard that you could hear the silence. Oversized, thick snow flakes in the foreground create a textured curtain. Peering through them i can see the small, colourful shapes of people snowshoeing far in the distance. They are the only colour among the tall, grey trunks of trees. The trunks, white on the side where the snow sticks, disappear into white sky above, white ground below. Their vertical shapes create the illusion of folds in the fabric of a curtain. They also add tension to the otherwise very soft and quiet mood. We get the uneasy feeling that all the trees look the same, the path is quickly being obliterated, and we’d best catch up to the other people. It’s easy to become lost, our call would be absorbed by the felted snowscape, and darkness comes early at this time of year.
Last week I randomly picked up a book of Steve McCurry photos. His portraits blew me away. I already knew his Afghan Girl but the book was full if images that were equally compelling. His focus on the eyes, side lighting to hide one side of the face and the colors of the clothing really hit me. The eyes of his subjects tell the story and are so expressive. Seeing many of his portraits in one place gave me a real sense of his style and how he consistently uses light, color and focus to draw you into the image.
Also, I noticed the similarities between the style of his photos and a number of your photos. I mean that as a compliment!
The photos I’m thinking of are from a series that Christina Merk created of draft horses. All of them have the same power and beauty that drew me in – it helps that I love horses.
The horses were all moving and the sense of freedom and joy shone through. The strength and grace of each animal came across beautifully – I wanted to be in that field, watching those horses all day. Those photos took my breath away – especially one of a black stallion with his long mane streaming behind him in the wind.
The lighting was soft, with a dreamy, often dark, with dramatic effect.
Darn, my comment also seems to be gone 🙁
The digital world can be as ephemeral as the snowscape I wrote about. Since i wrote off the cuff, i did not keep a copy. It was a description of a hike on a snowy day and, just like the snow, it disappeared. The soft sigh of snow…
Please let me know if you’d like me to try again.
My image is taken from a series of images created by Guy Duley, One Second of light. The image was taken in Angola in a hut where widows congregate after their husbands and in some cases entires have been killed in the civil war.
Smoke swirls upward from the red-hot embers of a fire that has burned down through the night, situated in the middle of the hut. The white smoke spirals upwards and through the hole in the roof of the structure made from baked cow dung. A woman wrinkled with age beyond her forty years, hands gnarled and swollen from hard manual labour, in the field outside the hut pokes the fire back into life with a stick and her breath, the fire begins to flicker into life
Across the room a small window framed by sticks projects a light warmed by the early morning sun, casting orange beams into the smoke, The light defused by the smoke cannot hide the skin on her hands that look like leather work gloves, the beams light create a high contrast on the skin. The light illuminates’ other widows in the hut creating a corridor of light focusing your attention toward the woman at the fire.
The image has been created in black and white removing the distraction of the red-hot embers and other colours generating a mood and emphasising the harness of the world that these women live in.
The image I have in mind is about skepticism. My son, my grandson (1.5 years old) and myself were sitting at a table. My son and grandson opposite to me. I had the camera pointed towards them waiting for an interesting moment.
I took some picuteres, but the one I love most is the one about skepticism. My son is looking sceptically to me, so right towards the camera. His son is looking to his father on his right side, also sceptically. I don’t remember what my son did, but for my grandson this was more interesting at this specific moment that he interrupted his painting.
There a two sceptical gazes in this image which lasted may be only a fraction of a second and I think I was prepared (lucky) to capture these.
We were sitting outside. As it was cloudy the light was very smooth. So the light did not contribute to the mood, but this was not necessary.
As the distance between me and my (grand)son was near, I used a wide angle lens but I also see neither a positive nor negative contribution to this emotion / mood.
Important is the POV in combination with the wide angle lens so that I could capture these two gazes in one picture.
My comment also got swallowed up by the internet, but I had it saved elsewhere! Here’s what I wrote:
Thank you for this essay, and for the opportunity to gush about a photograph that moved me. Just yesterday (May 18th), a friend shared a photograph she had submitted to a dog photography challenge theme we are participating in. The challenge theme we were creating for focused on processing our images in monochromatic tones. My friend’s photograph took my breath away. It features her light-colored dog posed on a rock set against a cliff with a waterfall. The waterfall is streaming down in multiple streams around the space where the dog stands. The dog is looking up and in the direction of the largest stream of water. It feels powerful and emotional and wild and alive. And and and! The use of body position, tones, shutter speed for the water, how the light moves through the image, and framing of the dog have me so inspired.
I love this! Thank you so much for re-posting it, Marika!
Phooey, I don’t see my comment here either so will try to recreate it but am grateful I can finish my thoughts!
If you make me pick just one image, I choose Fan Ho’s White Windows, though Her Study and Hong Kong Venice could all be easily tied for 1st place. A commonality amongst these three images is how small the people are in their surroundings and their surroundings are dark and ominous-looking creating a sense of people fighting for survival in a harsh environment.
In White Windows, a woman in light colored clothing has a baby strapped to her back. She has stepped out of the shadows and into a shaft of light and she’s about to step out of the light and back into the shadows. The baby is looking at the photographer, which makes a very strong connection with me. We see only a slice of a narrow alley with very tall buildings. This gives me a sense of being stuck, of confinement, because I don’t see any escape routes. I can’t see the sky, or the top of the buildings or where this alley starts and ends. But for me, the most compelling part of this image is that I cannot see where the woman is going. She is not headed to an obvious doorway, or stairs and she’s only a few feet from a wall. It gives me the sense that she can’t go anywhere, she’s headed to nowhere.
The light is coming from the upper left and it makes the open but dirty windows glow white. The windows seem to belong to apartments, or maybe a factory, but there’s hope in them. They are open and bright and welcoming and the complete opposite of the ominous and bleak environment. They offer the light in darkness, the hope in despair, that maybe there’s another world on the other side of those windows that is warm and offers the possibility of a better future for the baby on her back.
What initially drew me to the image was contrast; the blacks and the whites, but most notably, so much more black than white. I have struggled mightily with those who have told me there’s too much black, or not enough detail in the blacks, but every time I tried to “fix” that, I felt it ruined my image. I loved that Fan Ho told an amazing story without worrying about all of the details in the shadows. That it was the light that mattered. This image was one of the first images that actually made me feel, not just think, “ooh, that’s pretty”.
Fan Ho’s images aren’t pretty, but they’re beautiful and they make me feel.
I replied to your comment by email, I hope you got it!
I did! Thank you.
I’m sure you will know the photograph I’m thinking about by Paul Nicklen. It was taken from the inside of a cabin with a polar bear peeking through the open window. Having read his story behind it I know that he intentionally lit the oil lamp next to the window providing a warm glow to contrast with the cold snowy world beyond the window. The look of curiosity on the bear’s face is calming, not threatening. The photograph is layers of contrasts… warm and cold, human-made and natural, and apex predator as something else.
The photograph gives me hope that we, humans and non-humans, can possibly go-exist if we only try harder.
David, I want to leave you two images from Watergate Bay, near Newquay in Cornwall, UK. It’s normally a busy surfing beach (which I’ve visited many times) but on one day in May 2015, heavy sea mist had rolled in. The beach was deserted. Lifeguards were sitting in their truck with nothing to do. The outlines of cliffs were only faintly visible. Warning flags flew fitfully. The mood was one of gentleness, isolation, thoughtfulness, and lots more. I’ve never seen it like that since, but it stays in my memory.
I was checking online to see if there were things to do when I visited my daughter in Leeds and an exhibition by Ian Beesley in Saltaire popped up. A few black and white photos accompanied the article, and my reaction to one took me by complete surprise….thinking of it now even makes me cry. A old woman sitting in a wheelchair holding a photograph of a child to her face…caressing her cheek with it, her face full of love, anguish, yearning. I read the description and I sobbed. For me Ian has captured raw emotion that I physically respond to….I can feel pain in my chest, I cannot not cry when I see this image, talk about and think about it. I will go see his exhibition with some trepidation about how I will cope seeing the photograph in a public space such is the emotion that I feel about this image. This will stay with me forever and I am in awe of Ian’s ability to produce a piece of work that to me has made such a powerful connection. Exhibition is called ‘Life goes on’ and the photograph is Dolly
Forgot to include a link to the photo mentioned in my comment: https://pixels.com/featured/the-way-home-rory-sagner.html?product=poster
WOWZERS! Rory, your photo is beautiful. I want to walk that road! =)
One of my own photographs comes to mind in regard to your thoughts about mood. It was a great lesson for me in contemplating exactly what it is in a photograph we respond to. Some years ago I walked out early one morning after a heavy snowfall with nothing but an old three megapixel cell phone in my pocket to see if there was an electrical line down across my long gravel road. The light certainly was strange and amazing, the smell of the air, the beautiful snow covering everything. I was filled with an intensity of peace, an inner stillness, feeling completely present in the moment. Without really thinking about it I pulled out that three megapixel cell phone camera and took a few photographs. One of those photographs called “The Way Home” was later chosen as a winner in the Project Imagina10ion photo contest out of thousands of photographs much to my amazement and many many people have commented to me about how that photo affects them emotionally, even though one could say it’s only a simple landscape. This is what I’ve come to believe and understand about how and why that photo and perhaps any photo can affect us through “mood.” We all are actually light… our bodies are literally made of the same substances as the stars! We are consciousness and if you reada bit about the theory of non-locality in quantum physics, you might contemplate that if two electrons once connected are forever connected no matter how far apart they are in space or time, then is it not reasonable to think that the state of consciousness one is in when they take a particular photograph might be communicated through a field of consciousness that connects us all? That what we felt in the moment that photograph was taken could be felt by others viewing it, not only because of photographic elements in and of themselves, but through our connection as conscious living beings? One other example comes to mind. Just recently I took a quick cell phone photo of the morning sunlight shining through and backlighting an oregano plant that’s sitting on my porch railing. After posting it on Facebook for fun a friend surprised me by commenting that it was one of her all time favorite photos of mine because she felt my love for the plant coming through that photograph.
Not sure if mine was one that got lost but I happen to have composed it in a different program and hadn’t deleted it so I’m putting it here again.
[Oh dang 🙁 My comment was one that got lost to the ether. I don’t think I can remember everything I wrote the first time, but I’ll try.]
In speaking of mood, I immediately think of the photos from Larry Towell’s _The World From My Front Porch_ because I had the pleasure of seeing some silver gelatin prints from that collection recently. One of my favourites is the photograph of Larry’s daughter Naomi, looking about 6yo, standing in the corner of an abandoned farmhouse under the fascia of the second floor stairs and on the top landing of the basement stairs disappearing into the dark in front of her. She is standing next to a window with a three-pointed arch (resembling a church window), with a tree in the yard framed neatly so that the window is almost a painting.
The photo is all mood to me, principally because of the quality of the light inside the building contrasting with the bright daylight and open space beyond the window. The light reveals and hides the decay of the interior wallpaper, ceiling, and floor, making me feel sad about the deterioration of a home for a family I’ve never known, making me think about unfeeling time, how brief our time is to enjoy the things we have, and other existential notions.
The highlights and shadows are beautifully balanced and structured. Naomi and the tree, alive and growing, balance each other and are set out apart from the dead building.
Naomi is also examining something (it could be a shell?) in her hand that I presume she found in the house. Her presence, a wispy and clean contrast to her surroundings, makes me think of my childhood exploring not abandoned houses but houses under construction in our suburb. The photo reminds me of the childhood freedom exploring dangerous places our parents wouldn’t want us to play in without close supervision.
And I think for Naomi, the farmhouse is not a sad place but a slightly magical place. If there are ghosts, she’s not afraid of them. She wants to talk to them and find out if any kids lived there and what happened to all their toys.
The overlapping moods I feel when looking at this image are why I love it so much.
The one I have in mind is by Elena Shumilova and is of a small girl hugging a huge dog. They have their backs to us and are looking towards a foggy landscape. There is a dirt road that meanders off into the distance, into the fog. The colors, the lighting, the distant scene obscured by fog all contribute to the mood. The figures are centered with the moody day all around them and heading off into the distance. Yet, even though the world around them would suggest that they are the only two living beings for miles, the little girl is with her big dog! Therefore, it seems like everything is going to be okay and it’s even a little bit magical.
However, the mood in that photograph isn’t just about a photographer’s heart, skill, available light, or the contrast between the foggy solitude and a loving relationship. As a fellow human (at least, I think I’m human), I bring something to that photo, too: Shared experience.
For example, even though I’ve never had a huge dog, I know how safe a beloved dog can make you feel, I know how lonely a foggy morning on a dirt road can feel, and I remember what it felt like to be a small child. All of this impacts my experience with this photo I love so much. And, in the the case where I might lack experience (like, in seeing a wild rhino first hand), I would love to see one in the wild and wishes like this are a share human experience. (PS Your photo, above, fills my heart with awe!)
So I wonder if mood is really about recognizing those very human moments that inspire specific emotions (I’m talking high percentage linkages, here), photographing what you can, and strengthening the experience via editing. Maybe the trick is about visual metaphor–learning what they are, how to photograph them, and how to enhance them in just the right way that adds to the emotional impact that’s already there–all while “salting” and “spicing” it up in just the right way that your voice comes through, too.
Then again, is there really enough time for all of that? Maybe we just need to develop our craft and chase not just the image, but our own human hearts. If something inspires us, it’s probably going to inspire others. So then, it’s a matter of quality which comes from chasing, photographing, and learning how to do it better and better and better.
Which, in the end, is why I’m such a huge fan! You help us do that and have fun at the same time. Thanks David!
Really love your comment and explanation!
Thanks =)
The photo I’m thinking of is of horses running in the morning sun. There is a touch of fog, but it is bright, and the horses are backlit, so the manes and tails are haloed and a-glow, and the hooves are a bit blurred with the motion. The mood is freedom and joy – the light, the warmth, the motion all says “come play with us!”
The photo that I took of an elderly man completing a ritual of washing his hands in the Ganges River in India is one of my most favourites that has mood. He is very intent on what he is doing and that shows as he oblivious to anything going on except the task at hand. There are shadows that don’t distract from the image but do enhance his physique and his wrinkles. The shadows also enhance the mood (and colour) from the water dripping to his right which almost appears to be running into the bowl he has at his side. The light heightens his look by enhancing his clothing and the tones of his skin.
Here is the link to my photograph:
Ritual from JunePry Award winner on VIEWBUG.
The image I have in mind is a bunch of buildings half shone on by a beam of light after a rainstorm. The sky which the buildings were standing against was still very dark, with patches of dark clouds hanging around a deep blue background. A beam of light was piercing through from behind and hit on the buildings. The buildings were only half lit up cos the angle that the light was coming from, the buildings in front casted a shadow on the lower floors of those at the back. So the whole picture is intertwined with areas with varying degrees of brightness and darkness. The lower left and upper right corner is almost in complete darkness. This contrast of light and shadow is one of the keys elements building up the mood of the picture.
The buildings were mostly with white walls, those with colours were of very pale pink and purple, giving a mostly monotone colour profile. This, together with the dark blue sky, created a sober and sad feeling that adds to the mood.
Finally, the scene gives an impression of a ray of hope after something difficult, adding a hint of upbeat mood to the lingering dark tone.