
In photography, like in life, it’s always a good idea to look at
common things in a different way.
Changing drastically a
perspective can be a good way to see something new and
more interesting in what we might consider a banal repetition of daily routine.
We won’t speak of life right now, leaving philosophical speculation to more gifted people.
But we might apply this principle in the field of photography.
All amateur photographers like taking, sooner or later, photos of sunrises or sunsets (more sunsets than sunrises, as I considered in a former post). Nature generously offers us a double daily show of colours and lights.
What we usually do is, after choosing accurately the best settings for our camera, pointing the lens directly to that magic point, where the sun is either appearing or disappearing, to capture the shining traces, the explosion of blazing colours, the dark silhouettes which frame the scene, giving the leading role to Helios.
We can be either talented or lucky enough to get amazing , evocative , sensational photos like that and, of course every sunrise, every sunset is different from all the other ones ( maybe we repeat it to persuade ourselves…), but we might feel like enlarging our horizon and see things differently once in a while.
So why should not we try to turn our back to the sun, as if we wanted to snob it a little?
I call this kind of photos “the reverse of sunrise” (or sunset. It depends on your time choice).
All what we have to do is simply ignoring the sun in the role of main subject of the photo and taking instead a picture of what it sees, as if we could have its perspective.
It’s what I have tried to do in some of my photos.
common things in a different way.
Changing drastically a
perspective can be a good way to see something new and
more interesting in what we might consider a banal repetition of daily routine.
We won’t speak of life right now, leaving philosophical speculation to more gifted people.
But we might apply this principle in the field of photography.
All amateur photographers like taking, sooner or later, photos of sunrises or sunsets (more sunsets than sunrises, as I considered in a former post). Nature generously offers us a double daily show of colours and lights.
What we usually do is, after choosing accurately the best settings for our camera, pointing the lens directly to that magic point, where the sun is either appearing or disappearing, to capture the shining traces, the explosion of blazing colours, the dark silhouettes which frame the scene, giving the leading role to Helios.
We can be either talented or lucky enough to get amazing , evocative , sensational photos like that and, of course every sunrise, every sunset is different from all the other ones ( maybe we repeat it to persuade ourselves…), but we might feel like enlarging our horizon and see things differently once in a while.
So why should not we try to turn our back to the sun, as if we wanted to snob it a little?
I call this kind of photos “the reverse of sunrise” (or sunset. It depends on your time choice).
All what we have to do is simply ignoring the sun in the role of main subject of the photo and taking instead a picture of what it sees, as if we could have its perspective.
It’s what I have tried to do in some of my photos.
From the point of view of the sun
A very curious and intrusive sun switches on the lights in the houses where many people are still sleeping.