Figures on a Landscape

Hiker looking down on the colorful Cedar Breaks Amphitheater, Cedar Breaks National Monument, Utah (Russ Bishop/Russ Bishop Photography)

Hiker at the colorful Cedar Breaks Amphitheater, Cedar Breaks National Monument, Utah

There’s a popular climb at Joshua Tree called “Figures on a Landscape” that got me thinking about the connection between man and the environment. Not so much from an environmental standpoint (this could fill numerous posts), but photographically speaking. The climb is not long by Yosemite standards, but the lack of apparent holds on the colorful granite creates the illusion of climbers floating on a much larger stone palette.

Landscape photography can often portray the natural world in abstract even with the best intentions of  preserving its true form. It’s the nature of the beast – and that’s fine when you’re creating intentional abstracts or scale is irrelevant. Perspective control lenses and software can correct bending horizons and converging trees to create a more accurate representation if necessary, but there isn’t much else in nature that conforms to our linear way of thinking.

Don’t get me wrong, that’s a good thing! Nature should be wild and chaotic and unpredictable, and in most cases that’s exactly what we’re hoping to capture. But there are times when this can also lead to confusion with our audience. When you’re trying to convey a sense of scale such as the immensity of the Grand Canyon or the vastness of the night sky the simple inclusion of a person in the frame can give your image an instant focal point and more importantly, a sense of perspective.

©Russ Bishop/All Rights Reserved

High and Wild

Climbers on the classic traverse of Matthes Crest, Yosemite National Park, California (Russ Bishop/Russ Bishop Photography)

Climbers on the classic traverse of Matthes Crest, Yosemite National Park, California

Exploring the high peaks of the Sierra Nevada Mountains of California is a magical experience. The Range of Light, as John Muir affectionately called it, is essentially in my backyard (just a few hours drive away) and I try to make the most of it throughout the year. Winter is a fantastic time to discover the vast solitude that awaits the backcountry skier, late spring and summer provide ample opportunity to backpack to secluded lakes and hidden valleys, and autumn, my favorite time of year, is perfect for sharing the lofty summits with good friends.

Many of the peaks in the range average over 13,000 feet and the views stretch far and wide. Photography in the crisp, clear alpine air needs no polarizing filter to faithfully reproduce the deep indigo hue that looks as if it must have been tweaked in Photoshop. My go-to lens in these high and wild places is the Nikkor 16mm, which has a wide field of view, provides maximum depth of field with extremely close focusing, and is very compact making it especially easy to climb with.

Climbing photography is challenging as vantage points are often limited and safety always comes first. But the heightened sense of awareness that is a requirement when scaling the peaks has a dual benefit – that of visual clarity. Great shots have a way of presenting themselves, and capturing those images is often just a matter of living in the moment.

©Russ Bishop/All Rights Reserved

Get The Insurance, Shots

Peninsular Bighorn Sheep (Ovis canadensis cremnobates), Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, California USA (Russ Bishop/Russ Bishop Photography)

Peninsular Bighorn Sheep, Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, California

Wildlife photography is not my specialty, but I never pass up the opportunity to add a dynamic element to my landscapes when the local fauna is easily accessible. On a recent trip to Anza-Borrego Desert State Park I had heard that the endangered Peninsular Bighorn Sheep were frequenting the canyons, so I made a point of seeking out these magnificent animals. Still after three days in the park and many miles on the trail I had plenty of great images of blooming succulents and lush oasis, but not a single animal.

Then shortly before leaving the park I decided to make one last trip up Borrego Palm Canyon where, just a half mile up the trail, this handsome creature appeared on the ridge above me. Assuming I might only get a glimpse before he darted up the canyon wall, I took my obligatory insurance shots then waited to see his reaction. Much to my surprise he wasn’t in a hurry, so I left the trail (in a wide arc giving him plenty of room) to get a better angle. At first he was attentive to my movement but not agitated as I crossed the ridge and moved closer, then he seemed to accept my presence and for the next hour provided me with an amazing one-on-one photo session that I won’t soon forget.

Now I would have loved to have ended the day on that note, but unfortunately as the title of this post suggests, my luck had run its course. Not twenty minutes after heading down the trail, I somehow managed to slip on a rock (something I haven’t done in 35 years of traipsing through the wilderness), fell hard on my right side, and watched in horror as my Nikon body and 70-200mm lens lay in five pieces not far from my head. Fortunately I wasn’t injured and my equipment was insured. In fact, the great people at Rand Insurance (who underwrite my Nanpa policy) were so efficient that I was able to replace the equipment within ten days – just in time for an upcoming trip to Europe.

So if there is a moral to this story, it’s to keep taking those insurance shots when opportunity presents itself (and with a little luck you’ll come away with much more). And above all, make sure your equipment policy is up to date!

©Russ Bishop/All Rights Reserved