How to

We use Bibble as our RAW convertor/DAM, and a peek inside their image library files shows that it’s all stored in SQLite, a portable/flat file database format. That’s good – it means it should be easy to transform it into a format Tableau understands. For this purpose I’m using Tableau Public rather than Desktop, and Public is happy working with Excel, Access and CSV files.

First up I used the SQLite Browser to get into the library files, and exported the Exif table from the base file into CSV format. I also exported the Master tables as I’d hoped there were some datestamps in there, but as I was working from a JPEG library on my laptop they correspond to the date the JPEGs were output, rather than the capture date of the shot.

I imported the CSV into Excel and did some manipulation – the Exif data is all stored inside a simple XML record, so it’d be neater to set up a script that parses the records and outputs a more strongly structured CSV file, but for this test we just throw some formulae at it (messy but it worked: to start at the right place, =MID($C2,FIND(D$1,$C2)+2+LEN(D$1),100), where C2 is the record, and D1 is the label you’re looking for, and the following to stop the output after the double quotes in the previous cell =MID(D2,1,FIND(“”"”,D2,1)-1)). Thanks to FlyingBinary‘s quick thinking, I was able to convert the unfamiliar aperture (39/8) and focal length (300/1) values into decimal format using =VALUE(LEFT(J2,FIND(“/”,J2)-1))/VALUE(MID(J2,FIND(“/”,J2)+1,LEN(J2))).

Just about ready for Tableau – we now have an Excel file which gives us camera Make, Model, ImageWidth, ImageHeight, ISO, Exposure Bias/Compensation, Aperture, Focal Length, and Shutter Speed. I downloaded Tableau Public, installed and opened up the Excel workbook as a data source. After a bit of playing around and excluding null/invalid values, I came up with the above. It’s clear that most shots are taken at the minimum or maximum extent of the lenses we’ve used over the years: 18-55, 70-300, 100-400.

Later, I’ll run the same process over all our RAW files and extract some more data, particularly the datestamps, to see what – if anything – has changed over time.

I have chosen this image as my photo of the week, because it reminds me of a great moment when you discover something new in photography, something which alters your perspective and photographic style.

Heavy rain had fallen that afternoon, so several puddles were strewn across Red Square.

Now Red Square is a place we adore – one of our most favourite cityscapes. We have spent many an hour oggling the square and its amazing architecture, morning, noon and night. On this particular visit we were with family and were reveling in the experience of people seeing Red Square for the first time at night. Having the square to ourselves late at night meant we could take time to get the perfect shot. Tutoring our family on photography, we stooped to ground level to shoot up towards the rooftops of the National History Museum. It’s then we noticed the refections in the puddles – glorious, still and a perfect replication. We embraced the moment and lay the cameras on the ground, shooting into the puddles. Within 10 mins, we had passers by, tourists and strangers stopping to ask what we were doing and to copy- all discovering a new way / new ideas / new experiences with photography. The result – a great chance to share a new discovery with like-mined photographers from across the world.  That’s why this is my photo of the week.

Given the weather we’re having these last few weeks, I have chosen an image that takes us back to sunny and far off shores. This is Wadi Rum in Jordan, home to Lawrence of Arabia and wandering nomads. Its a place we expected to like, but instantly fell in love with.  Free to explore the deserts, we wandered for hours on end, climbing rocks and exploring caves. This picture was taken from a natural stone bridge, looking out across the peaceful desert vista. In the centre left of the image is a lone woman, exploring the desert in her own time, just as we did. It’s a shot that takes me back to the moment – and for that reason its my photo of the week.

Antarctica, the trip of a lifetime and the chance for us to snap some memories that would last forever. We embarked on our trip to Antarctica as novices with a relatively new inventory of photography and video equipment. We had all the technology we needed, but it’s fair to say that we had not yet fully developed our ‘eye’ and photography styles.

On a small boat in the Antarctic Peninsula, there was very few people on our trip – just 40 passengers in total. What this meant was that we had lots of time to take photographs in solitude, choosing the composition to suit, taking blissful landscapes uninterrupted by human presence. This is where the benefit of hindsight comes in – the vastness of the polar landscapes is such that without the occasional human in shot it becomes difficult to ascertain any sense of scale. We put a lot of effort into ensuring no humans were in shot, but for those occasional pictures where we included an expedition leader, a zodiac pilot or a fellow passenger, it really helped to bring the landscape alive and give a sense of dimension to what is an alien but beautiful landscape. This is a valuable lesson and one which we’ll certainly be taking into consideration on our pending trip to the Arctic.

We recently had the privilege of spending the day at the Yorkshire Wildlife Park – a great location for photography. Its open and walk through enclosures mean you’re rarely shooting through glass or wires, which gives you a real opportunity to get up close and personal with the animals.

We went along with family and friends and spent an enjoyable few hours with the lemurs, lions and birds of prey. There’s something that fascinates us so about the birds of prey. Their expressions can flit from quizzical to murderous in a glance. Their speed in flight and their considered poses when motionless gives the photographer a real chance to capture the true beauty of these birds.

Having the opportunity to spend the day with a wee two year old at the zoo inspired many a photo from ground level, seeking to obtain a bird’s eye view of the animals from the ground upwards. None of these pictures have made it into the final cut –exposure and depth of field was a considerable challenge when taking pictures of basking black and white lemurs in the sunny grass or taking birds of prey swooping down to ground level in a dark forest, but it was a worthwhile experiment that we’ll no doubt continue to trial. Watch this space for further attempts……

What we really enjoyed was the chance to return home with guests and critique our shots. We discussed what we should and should not have done, how we altered exposure, depth of field and ISO – learning more from each other over a glass of wine than we might have done out in the field that day. A worthwhile and rare chance to share lessons learned with fellow photographers and one we hope to repeat one day. Volunteers welcome!

The result was a book called ‘Glimpses from another world’ which I am incredibly proud of. What I especially like about this book is that the shots were taken over a number of years and on a range of photography equipment, from Canon EOS 30/40Ds to a Canon powershot, and what’s more, the majority of shots in the book were taken in British zoos – showing that local wildlife and zoological parks can be a veritable playground for wildlife photographers. All you need is lots of patience, a decent UK zoo membership and a sturdy set of waterproofs and the world is your oyster.

On a recent trip to Berlin, we walked through the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe, commonly known as the Holocaust Memorial. It’s a large square of space just south of Brandenberg Gate, next to the Tiergarten. The space contains over 2,700 concrete blocks, all with slightly different dimensions and angles. It’s very stark from above, as this Google Maps image shows, but from beyond and within, I found it tricky to find angles which gave a true reflection of the subtleties: the way the slants of light differ very slightly from block to block, and the fact that there is much undulation across the top of the blocks as well as on the ground, which slopes up and down in a wave pattern.

This image is cropped down into a square format from the original, creating more abstract forms. Each block has its own scratches which are clearly visible in bright sunlight and appear more by increasing contrast in post-production; the texture disrupts the uniformity of the rectangles. The abstract form also serves to isolate the blocks from the surrounding housing and office blocks. While I was there there it seemed like a good move to blur the boundaries between the memorial and the surroundings, since everything the eye could see was just a block of concrete, but without extra elevation in the form of a ladder/lift and a wider angle lens it’d be difficult to do justice to the idea.

The memorial has courted controversy since it was opened in 2005. I found it interesting from a design perspective, and the slow descent into the blocks which quickly tower over you certainly gives pause for thought. But as a memorial I felt it lacked meaning and relationship with action or people; as an abstract form, it is passive and requires the visitor to add their own context.

I have often heard the criticism that the tourist with a camera sees little of the place they visit. Whilst I understand the sentiment behind this, ironically, some of the best pictures we’ve taken are when we’ve been least prepared – when we’ve been in a situation when our eyes have never been wider and our last thought has been to grab the camera. This is one such shot….

Having been unlucky with leopard sightings previously, we’d been tracking this leopard for hours. Dedicated, committed and it’s fair to say a little obsessed, we’d lost patience with the sight of the occasional glimpse of leopard skin and had downed tools to search eagerly through the bushes, eyes primed for a sighting of the elusive beast. Those sharing the van with us had grown tired hours before and had slipped into peaceful slumber in the back of the truck, but we and the trackers remained ever hopeful as we slipped into hour 3 of our search.

The light grew darker, and false alarm after false alarm led us further and further into the African thicket. Ground cover became heavier and bushes thickened as we penetrated the savannah forests further and further. The light and intense concentration played tricks on us and our eyes started to burn as the contrast between night and day grew more intense.  Hours had passed and it was less of a photographic mission now and more of a personal dream. As we pulled into a dried river bed under the canopy of trees she was there! Standing tall and proud, our presence did not even shake her. With each carefully pondered step she stalked towards our vehicle, turning on occasions to allow her coat to shine in the dappled light of the African sunset. Daring not to remove our eyes from our first leopard sighting, we slunk down into the vehicle to retain our cameras. Each grabbing what was closest to us, I ended up with the EOS 40D, a bad idea having spent most of the week shooting documentary footage with the videocamera. Still, needs must. Aware that it might be another 7 years since we would have this sighting again, we clicked and whirred away. Over 200 pictures taken in what seemed like an instant. Brain failing to engage, I snapped and snapped every opportunity I could get, only pausing once for my husband to whisper furiously about my ISO. Heart sinking I realised I’d been shooting a fast moving and camouflaged animal, in the forest during failing light. The result? One of the pictures I am most proud of – but will fail to replicate again.

With the benefit of hindsight……

Look out for the first post on the evening of August 18^th, 2010.

We hope you enjoy it.

Upon hearing that we’ve been to Antarctica, the first (sensible) question people ask (after ‘Why the heck would you!), is ‘What is it like?’

That’s a really hard question to answer and one I’d struggle to answer in words alone. That’s why our photographs are so precious to us – they take that snapshot in time (no pun intended) and lock it away as a back-up for our memories.

The reason for travelling to the polar regions is a question I find myself answering more and more now – especially as we’re about to embark on an expedition to the Arctic. It’s the natural reaction of people to ask ‘why’, ‘how’ and ‘when’. But for us, it’s not a case of why, more ‘why not?’

Some people are born for travelling and exploring new cultures, new ways, new sights and sounds. For us… well we’ve grown into it. Fuelled by a desire to see beyond what we already know we’re hungry to travel. To see things that challenge us, to discover new emotions, new people and make new discoveries that fundamentally begin to define who we are and what we stand for. The people closest to us no longer question it – nor do they necessarily accept it. I dare say parents and loved ones would prefer us not to sail across some of the roughest seas in the world and would prefer us not to endure freezing temperatures as we camp alone on the ice with nothing but a wee dram of something Scottish and a sleeping bag to protect us – but for us, it’s the only way and it’s the way we grow stronger and better at what we love doing.

That’s why we’re going back to the sea this Autumn. Going back to a place where we know we’ll be challenged, where we know we’ll fall in love with the landscape and wildlife, to a place that we’ll be proud to call home for a brief 2 weeks.

That’s why I’ve picked this Antarctic landscape as our picture of the week. It cements my expectations of the polar regions, allows me to explain to others the ‘what’ and the ‘why’ of travel and exploration. Above all, it daunts and excites me to think that we could be in this landscape again shortly.

We’re going back to the sea…….