How and Why I Became A Nature photographeR

 

 

A Coral Mushroom in the Monongahela National Forest, WV.

The Early Years

Since childhood, I’ve been an animal fanatic. At just 10 weeks old I went on my first trip to Sanibel, FL. While this was not a conscious choice at the time, I do believe I approved of the island. From that first trip, full of birdwatching and exploring, I was hooked on nature.

As a kid, I spent summers in the woods of West Virginia, learning about the magnificent flora and fauna hidden in the rolling mountains. I walked the woods, collecting the leaves of trees and wildflowers, later identifying and organizing them in booklets. I learned about mushrooms, which ones were really cool to look at, but not to eat, like the Bruising Bolete which turn various shades of blue, green, and purple when scratched. I learned which ones are just as magnificent to eat as they are to see — the Oyster and Chanterelle in particular. Fighting their way up through the leaf litter of the damp forest floor, each mushroom a tiny treasure in the vastness of the Monongahela National Forest. I learned of the Eastern Newt, also known as the Red Eft, still a favorite critter to this day. Not far from our cabin I discovered a rotting stump in which these red and black-spotted salamanders could always be found. I made a friend in an orphaned wild coyote pup. Wiley, as we named her, hung around and would go on hikes with us, steal and hide tools, and beg for treats. Mountain summers were filled with magical experiences.

We would return to Sanibel year after year and in every season, taking in the idyllic coastal wilderness of the island and its abundant species. Over the years I learned to identify Green Herons and Little Blues in all of their phases, watched Bobcats hunt for turtles and rabbits, saw countless Roseate Spoonbills, Great Blue Herons, Double-Crested Cormornts, and experienced nature hiking and biking through the interior of the Island, kayaking in Tarpon Bay and through flooded mangrove forests, and swimming in the Gulf.

The most impactful travel of my childhood, however; was in 2008 when we visited Costa Rica. We traveled to Tortuguero, the Monteverde Cloud Forest, and Arenal Volcano. We saw hundreds of species of animals; Spider and Howler Monkeys, Two and Three-toes Sloths, Tiger Herons and Gray Hawks, Mealy Parrots and Motmots, Pit Vipers and River Turtles, Caiman and Crocodile. My mom and I kept diligent track of each one we saw, even creating a t-shirt printed with the list to commemorate the trip. Some of the animals on that list have become critically endangered in just the relatively few years since. In Costa Rica I felt like I had jumped into a National Geographic Magazine. Yet, as wonderful as it was, I sensed, even then, that the rain forest was one of too many special places in the world changing so quickly that within my lifetime it might only live on in National Geographic.

The travel I was fortunate to experience as a child most definitely instilled in me a passion as well as the urge to protect nature and animals. Back at home I fed my hunger for contact with the natural world at the Memphis Zoo. I spent hours observing the animals and getting to know them. Although even as a kid I was conflicted about viewing them at the expense of their freedom, a contradiction I’m conflicted about to this day.

Yellow-crowned Night Heron, Ding Darling, Sanibel, FL

Zaboomafoo: with Chris and Martin Kratt was a favorite show of mine growing up. If you have not heard of it, please accept my condolences. Chris and Martin were my Batman and Robin. They, along with their sidekick, Zaboomafoo, a real life Ring-tailed Lemur who also had a puppet version, would teach viewers about all sorts of different animals as well as respect for the natural world. I was lucky enough to meet these guys in person once, which was epic for me at the time.

All of this is to say that throughout my childhood I had many influences that helped build my regard for the animal kingdom and our planet. I didn’t have much photographic influence or experience. My mom may have taken plenty of photographs of me as a kid but I was never very interested in my mom’s camera. My interest in and appreciation for photography and just as importantly, its power to deliver a message, came later.

the discovery

On a visit to Sanibel Island, when I was twenty, we were driving through Ding Darling National Wildlife Refuge when we spotted a gorgeous Yellow-crowned Night Heron perched in a Red Mangrove. Not far away but not close either. I wanted to capture a photo of it with my iPhone but couldn’t truly see the bird amongst all the branches and leaves. I put the lens of my phone up against the viewfinder of my binoculars. The outcome was surprisingly good! I really liked the spyglass effect, revealing the bird in all its glory.

Years later, while working on an idea to help organize climate organizations aiming to prevent the worst aspects of climate change, I found myself in DC, becoming increasingly attentive to current events and daily news. While plenty was said about climate change, far too little was being done. Where was the action!

During this time I showed a few of the iPhone photos to my artist friends. Positive feedback and encouragement led me to explore the world of photography. As I was becoming more despondent about the climate project I had been working on, my vision for a different strategy and path began to coalesce. I wanted to inspire people to recognize the interconnectedness of our world, to care enough to demand change. I wanted to create something beautiful that could stand as a representation of my advocacy for the biosphere as a whole, and each individual creature that is a part of it. And I wanted to push these ideas while also enjoying the natural world that I have always revered and wanted to save. My passions converged and took off.

Tombak — Sumatran Orangutan (pongo abelii) Adult, Male — The Memphis Zoo

the Firsts

Soon, I developed a vision of how I wanted my photographs to capture animals, revealing each one as a unique individual. Moreover, I wanted each work to be a complete presentation including the photograph, a unique wood frame, and specific artifacts rooting it to the biosphere. I wanted to create an educational and emotional experience with my art. I wanted the viewer to get the whole picture—the beauty of the world and its interconnectedness—and even more, I wanted to evoke the urge to protect, the urge to demand change, in every viewer. With these desires in mind, I developed a logo that could represent these ideas and our biosphere’s precarious place in time.

I borrowed a camera — a rebel T3i — from my Uncle Ashok, and began spending days at the Memphis Zoo. I captured images of animal after animal, individual after individual, trying to figure out how to highlight the soul of the animal staring back at me. As mentioned, I remain conflicted about zoos.

After trying newer camera bodies and lens options, I settled on a Canon 5d Mark IV body and a Canon 100-400 MM lens. I began to take many more pictures; at the zoo, across the river from downtown Memphis at Woppanocca Wildlife Refuge, wetlands around my grandparents house in Florida, and in West Virginia. At the same time, I began to realize my vision of a finished piece, where the frame was a living extension of the photograph.

After Sarah and Diane, magnificent woodworkers and friends in West Virginia, heard about my ideas and saw a few of my first photographs, including the image on the right, they offered to give me interesting pieces of salvage wood. Pecky Cypress from Louisiana Bayous that frame many of my early pieces has all come from them.

As I fleshed out the types of shots I wanted to capture I created a more complete idea of the totality of what I wanted to include with each piece. I solved how to make the live edge frames, and how to rout out the display boxes for the vials of objects, included as a representation of our world’s building blocks, the Elements: fire, water, earth, and air. One big decision was to back the photos with black matte board, and to further print each photograph with a black border as well. A choice that was cemented when I entered a National Geographic exhibit in the Pittsburgh Carnegie Museum of Art and the walls, floors, and frames of all of the photographs were black. Kismet. If the ambiance of awe, intrigue, and sorrow was right for the gold standard of nature photography, then it was right for me.

I knew I wanted to include key information about each piece, but how? Eventually, I settled on an engraved, wooden plaque. After finding out that it wasn’t prohibitively expensive to do it myself, I learned how to design and create them. Figuring out how to attach the plaque with a hidden magnet in the back of the frame was one the last hurdles to the creation of a finished piece.

My first completed pieces provided such a feeling of relief and success. The cohesive work, combining image and environment, was a reality! Now I just had to get it in front of people. At my first gallery show, I received overwhelmingly positive feedback, even selling one piece framed in the gifted Pecky Cypress.

the Future

As I develop my vision and refine my message, I’m jurying into fine art shows and becoming involved with galleries. I’m traveling all over the country to the most beautiful and most wild places — The Everglades, Yellowstone, Joshua Tree. My goal is to get my work in front of others, to bring more people along for the journey, by showing my work and talking to people about it. I want to spread the message of how important our natural world is, how beautiful and unique and vital all of its creatures are. I want people to stop and think when they see my artwork. I want to awaken their awareness and even their fear of what will happen as a consequence of inaction. I want to grow people’s desire to change the way humanity lives on this planet. But most of all, I want to see and experience nature and all of the spectacular creatures that live in it, just in case it vanishes before my eyes and my lens.

 

Coyote — Yellowstone National Park, WY