Returning to Scotland to Revisit Night Photographs of Yesteryear

In 2019 the five National Parks at Night instructors posted stories and images of places we had gone back to in order to re-photograph scenes.

For Matt Hill and Tim Cooper, conditions on a first visit prevented them from creating the images they’d had in mind. Chris Nicholson had a vision of what he wanted to do, but couldn’t quite make it work the first time. Gabe Biderman struck gold with a team collaboration on his first visit, and then different conditions provided an opportunity for an equally stunning but completely different image upon his return. I also experienced different conditions that allowed me to make a more compelling image when I revisited a lighthouse on the coast of Maine.

Usually it’s external circumstances that impact our images the most when we return to photograph a location, but sometimes the way we see or the way we remember a scene can influence how we respond to it.

This past spring Tim and I finally led a twice-postponed trip to the Orkney Islands after 2 years of Covid-related delays. It was worth the wait. This was my fifth visit to this special place, but I hadn’t been there since 2010. So obviously I was overdue to return.

The Orkney Islands. (Satellite imagery courtesy of Google Earth.)

I first went to Orkney in 1995 while traveling around Scotland on a jump-on-jump-off minibus tour. I had no idea what to expect, and had done no research before taking a ferry across the Pentland Firth and stepping back 5,000 years into the Neolithic landscape that exists simultaneously with a very modern culture.

That experience was life-changing. My memories of that first visit have always stayed with me, and Orkney is a place I feel permanently connected to.

I can’t really say what it was that made such an impression on my younger, impressionable self, but something sure did. In my mind, Orkney has become like Atlantis or Shangri-La over the years, taking on outsized, mythical proportions for a place where I’ve spent a total of about a month. Orkney is a special place to be, for sure––but try as I might, I cannot explain why I feel so drawn to these islands. I just know that I am.

Moreover, each time I visit, I find a new way to photograph it.

View fullsize

A younger me and group I took to Orkney in 2010.

View fullsize

Stromness, 2007.

View fullsize

Kirkwall, 2007.

In this post I’m sharing three pairs of images, the first made years ago on earlier visits and the second made on our tour in May 2022. Each of the original photographs is one that I’ve always loved, in part for the image itself, and in part for the memories it invokes.

The new images have their own stories and memories, built upon the earlier ones. They too have become part of my saga, interwoven with recollections of places, times and people. I don’t know that anyone will see the images after I’m gone, and that isn’t particularly important to me. For now, they serve as reminders of my past, just like those neolithic standing stones that dot the Orkney landscape reminding those who live there where they came from.

“Our memories make us who we are and shape our world view. Our collective experiences of the past inform the way we interpret the present and think about the future.”

I was almost as excited to return to the site of some of these photographs as I was to return to Orkney itself. I came with expectations, knowing that I was likely to be disappointed. Twelve years is a long time to expect that nothing will have changed. As I retraced my steps of previous visits, wondering what would be the same and what would be different, I thought about how I had changed in all those years, how the world had changed, and I thought of that old proverb: “We see the world not as it is, but as we are.”

Our memories make us who we are and shape our world view. Our collective experiences of the past inform the way we interpret the present and think about the future. No one can say with certainty why some memories are more poignant than others. Just as traumatic events might be forefront in our minds, or may be repressed into our subconscious, ordinary experiences can have similar dominant or subtle influences on our thoughts and behaviors.

In the end, travel photography is less about the images than the experiences. The images serve as reminders to take me back to places and times that are important to me. I hope that the viewer will enjoy and appreciate what I saw in these places, but I know that no one but me will feel what I do when I see them. That’s OK; I photograph for myself. It’s a thing that I do just for me, and that is a luxury that I truly appreciate. I feel very fortunate to be able to travel and see such remarkable places, and to be able to do what I love for a living.

Now let’s look at the photographs.

Revisit 1

The House of the Orcadian Poet George Mackay Brown in Stromness

View fullsize

2008. Ebony SW23 view camera with a Nikon 65mm f/4 lens, shot on Fuji Neopan Acros film. Exposure unrecorded.

View fullsize

2022. Nikon D780 with a Nikon 28 mm f/3.5 PC lens. Three blended exposures shot at 15, 30 and 60 seconds, f/11, ISO 100.

The earlier black and white image of George McKay Brown’s house in Stromness is one of my all time favorites, and appears on the cover of my first book. It was the last time I took my view camera on an international trip, and the last time I futilely pleaded with security at Heathrow to spare my film from their damaging X-rays.

I made the color image this past May on my first visit to the site since then. I was full of anticipation as I walked the mile or so along the main road through town to get to the house. There is a row of houses in between the street and the bay, and peering between the houses out to the water is irresistible.

As I looked between two of these structures about 100 yards from Brown’s house, I noticed an upturned and familiar dinghy with the faded and peeling name “MOLLYMAWK” staring back at me. This was the dinghy in the foreground of my original picture! It was still in town, apparently passed on to a neighbor, and now, by the looks of it, neglected. Oh, the changes!

I couldn’t make the same image, so I had to make a new one. I did, and it doesn’t compare to the aura of the original, and that’s OK. It was cathartic nonetheless.

Revisit 2

The Stones of Stenness

View fullsize

2007. Canon 5D with a Nikon 28 mm f/3.5 PC lens, lit with a Surefire G2 flashlight. 15 seconds, f/8, ISO 100.

View fullsize

2022. Nikon D780 with a Tamron 15-30mm f/2.8 lens, lit with three Luxli Fiddle and one Luxli Viola LED panels. 2 minutes, f/4, ISO 160.

The older image of the standing stones was made with a small group that I took to Orkney on one of my early tours before National Parks at Night was born.

More than the night it was made, the image reminds me of my first experience at the stones. I’d ventured out alone at night from the youth hostel where I was staying. I rode on a rented bicycle and wandered amongst the stones, both awed and somewhat uneasy.

When Tim and I were there this spring, I had this image in mind, but wanted to improve on the lighting. Luckily for me, I had Tim Cooper, master light painter, in tow. We worked together for about an hour to craft this image, using four Luxli panel lights on stands. It was a memorable night—one I’ll remember more for the experience shared with Tim than for the image.

Revisit 3

The Bluebell Woodland at Woodwick House, Evie

View fullsize

2010. Canon 5D Mark II with a Canon 24-105mm f/4 lens, lit with a Surefire G2 flashlight. 5 minutes, f/5.6, ISO 100.

View fullsize

2022. Nikon D780 with a Nikon 28 mm f/3.5 PC lens, lit with two Luxli Fiddle LED panels. Two sets of three exposures shot at 10, 30 and 90 seconds, f/11, ISO 100, blended and stitched.

Of all the places I’ve been in Orkney, perhaps nowhere is as dear to me as Woodwick. It’s a spectacular Victorian hunting lodge, on a gorgeous property secluded on its own private bay, with gardens and a wooded burn that flows out to the sea. And thousands of bluebells.

My first Orkney photo tour stayed at Woodwick House, which was at the time owned and managed by a non-profit trust with the best intentions and not nearly enough resources. The resident manager James served as host and chef and no doubt many other roles. He helped make our visit extraordinary in so many ways, but it was clear that he was understaffed and overwhelmed.

I had tried to bring other groups in years since, but James left long ago, and the place went from a 4-star bed-and-breakfast to rundown self-catering accommodations with a miserable reputation.

This year I tried in vain to reach my contact at the trust to see if I might be able to bring the group to photograph the grounds. Undeterred, but with serious trepidation, Tim and I went to check it out before the group arrived, and I was stunned to find it empty, neglected and for sale.

I showed Tim the grounds, the woodland, the burn with its many small cascades, and the bluebells, which have managed quite well on their own. They were, as I had hoped, in full bloom.

Tim and I photographed together, I with my old image in mind, Tim never having seen it. We came up with a composition that was different, but reminiscent, and worked together to light it. We wondered if we could get away with bringing the group later in the week. We did. I fantasized about buying and renovating Woodwick House as National Parks at Night’s European headquarters, which several of our group thought was a brilliant idea.

Lance Keimig is a partner and workshop leader with National Parks at Night. He has been photographing at night for 35 years, and is the author of Night Photography and Light Painting: Finding Your Way in the Dark (Focal Press, 2015). Learn more about his images at www.thenightskye.com.

---

UPCOMING WORKSHOPS FROM NATIONAL PARKS AT NIGHT

Banding Together: The Tradition of Community Spirit in Night Photography

The Oxford English Dictionary defines community as: “a feeling of fellowship with others, as a result of sharing common attitudes, interests and goals.”

“Tribe,” “family,” “cohort,” “sisterhood,” “brotherhood,” “collective,” “fellowship” and even “gang” are all words that describe community in one sense or another. A group of people who collectively support each other for a common purpose.

There are communities dedicated to protecting the climate or endangered species, to fighting diseases, or to rallying around a politician or other public figure. There are communities of flat-earthers, bubble tea drinkers, those who like to explore abandoned mental hospitals, and even for people obsessed with identifying animal scat. If you can imagine it, there probably is a community for it.

Never has there been more need for community than in the last year. Our physical isolation—and the limited circles of people we spend time with face to face—has increased the need to connect with our communities. It’s something I’ve been thinking about quite a bit recently: the different communities I belong to, have connected with, and have drifted away from.

Anyone who is even an occasional reader of this blog, or who has attended a National Parks at Night event, will know that we place a lot of emphasis on community. Heck, unless you randomly stumbled upon this article, you are probably already a part of our community. (And to you random stumbler, come join the party!)

That said, National Parks at Night is certainly not the first community of night photographers. We’re only 6 years old, but there have been communities of night photographers dating as far back as the beginning of the 20th century.

View fullsize

Some years ago while researching the early history of night photography, I came across an article in the February 1910 issue of American Photographer by Alfred H. Blake, who identified himself as the founder of the Society of Night Photographers of England. In the article, Blake was sharing the findings of his organization’s members on how to deal with some of the many technical challenges faced by early night photographers. He wrote that a key tenant of the society was to “pursue the subject as far as possible apart from all faking and double-exposing.”

It seems that because night photographs were so difficult to create successfully, there were all manner of techniques––day for night, double exposing, hand retouching—that were commonly employed to achieve the look of night photographs without actually doing the work at night. The society was formed in part to promote true night images above the fakes, but more importantly to share information and discoveries that led to better night photographs for anyone interested in the pursuit.

Despite the reputation of night photographers being solitary, introverted loners, we’ve always shared a communal camaraderie that has offered support, encouragement and appreciation of one another’s craft. My own first forays were solo ventures, but at that time, night photography was far more obscure, and there was no internet to exchange images and information. I thought that I was the only one photographing after dark, and that notion was regularly reinforced by the late night security guards and dog walkers who would question my intentions whenever I was discovered in the field.

When I found a class offered on night photography in San Francisco in 1988, I enrolled in the school and moved across the country, as it appeared to be the only class of its kind at that time. It was a fortuitous decision as it set the course of my career, and became the model for my own classes and workshops when I began teaching night photography a decade later.

The course was taught by Steve Harper, who became my mentor––as he was also to a generation of Bay Area photographers in the 1980s and 90s. In all of my other classes we were given assignments, and we went off to complete them independently. Steve’s night photography courses were different. The students went out together to shoot on location, and in between classes smaller groups would connect and go out shooting together.

View fullsize

Steve Harper’s students shooting together in Yosemite National Park in 1984.

Many of us became obsessed with shooting at night, some to the point of not wanting to do anything but night work. Students would enroll in Steve’s class repeatedly, even though credit could be earned only once, until Steve eventually developed an advanced course.

The critiques were different from other classes as well. Students quickly overcame any shyness or concerns that their images might not be good enough, and we worked together to improve our techniques, watched each other’s backs in dodgy areas of South San Francisco, and celebrated one another’s images when they magically appeared in the darkroom tray.

Steve soon introduced me to Tim Baskerville, who had studied with him some years earlier, and who had caught the night photography bug himself. Tim was curating an exhibit of night photographs, and he generously included my images and those of my classmate Tom Paiva. The show was held at The Gallery Sanchez in San Francisco’s Noe Valley neighborhood, and was titled “The Nocturnes.”

A few years later that exhibit morphed into a website and became what we believe to be the world’s first online night photography community. Tim began to get emails from around the world from excited people who had previously believed that they were the only ones crazy enough to stand out in the cold and darkness with their cameras night after night. That was 30 years ago, and Tim still hosts semi-annual gatherings of honorary Nocturnes for image-sharing and -making at his studio in Mare Island, California.

View fullsize

Our group from the Night Photography Conference, presented by the Nocturnes and Mono Lake Workshops in August 2006.

Today, with the proliferation of the internet and social media, there are so many opportunities for sharing images and ideas that were completely unfathomable just a few short years ago. Sites like Flickr and 500px have long since yielded in popularity to Instagram and Facebook, and the next generation has moved on to TikTok and Twitch, but all are ways to connect and share. I for one long for a time when we can reconnect with our communities face to face, to hug and to shake hands, and to look over a friend’s shoulder at her or his laptop without a care other than whether or not I have garlic breath.

Still, we are truly fortunate to live in a time with so many ways to connect and to relate to our fellow humans, whichever tribe or tribes we belong to––be it bubble tea aficionados or night photographers. It’s easy to hibernate in our home-cocoons, and to attempt to ride out the storm alone, but even in quarantine, or semi-quarantine, remember that there is a thriving community of night photographers at the ready to encourage, inspire or nudge you along, and others who may need the same from you.

View fullsize

Just a few of the National Parks at Night workshop groups—a great community of night photographers 6 years and 500-plus members strong. Many stay in touch (and share photos, arrange night photography shoots, etc.) via a private group on Facebook.

It seems fitting that National Parks at Night is holding our first Night Photography Summit in the year that marks the 30th anniversary of the Nocturnes. That show was a seminal moment for me, and I know that it was for Tom and especially Tim as well.

For me personally it is a confirmation, a justification, an assertion that what we do is important, has meaning, and brings people together to share a common love of the magic that happens when a shutter clicks in the dark.

Lance Keimig is a partner and workshop leader with National Parks at Night. He has been photographing at night for 30 years, and is the author of Night Photography and Light Painting: Finding Your Way in the Dark (Focal Press, 2015). Learn more about his images and workshops at www.thenightskye.com.

---

UPCOMING WORKSHOPS FROM NATIONAL PARKS AT NIGHT

12 Tasks for Ringing in a New Year for Night Photography

It’s a new year, and we’re feeling … good?

Well, we should be! The new year is full of new possibilities for everything—including night photography.

But first, we have to be ready for it. To help get you started, here are 12 things you can do to prepare for your best night photography in 2021.

1. Research and Plan for Astronomy Events

View fullsize

Solar eclipse and Bailey’s beads. © 2017 Gabriel Biderman. Fujifilm X-T2 with a Fujifilm 100-400mm f/4.5-5.6 lens. 1/15, f/22, ISO 800.

A lot happens in the sky over 365 nights, and a lot of that can be different from one year to the next. 2021 will feature several items of note:

• The Eta Aquarid, Perseid, Draconid and Gemenid meteor showers should be particularly good. (Download our Great Balls of Fire e-book for all you need to know about photographing a meteor shower.)

• In March, Mercury, Jupiter, Saturn and a crescent moon will all pose together for a stellar night shot.

• May will feature a total lunar eclipse around the Pacific Rim (including western North America).

• The far-northern latitudes will enjoy an annular solar eclipse (i.e., a “ring of fire”) in June.

• The Southern Ocean and anyone sailing in it will experience a total solar eclipse in December.

Of course, there’s even more in this year’s astronomy calendar. Check out resources such as Sea and Sky and National Geographic.

2. Test Your Camera for Night Work

Are you fully aware of how your camera behaves in low light, when shooting with long exposures and at high ISOs? Both situations introduce noise to images, but every camera has different thresholds, and every photographer has a different tolerance. All of that is important knowledge to have when photographing in dark conditions, yet so many of us just kinda guess.

Instead, be precise, take control. Read Matt’s blog posts “Testing Your Camera’s Tolerance For Long-Exposure Noise” and “How to Take an ISO Test with your Camera.” Test and learn your gear, and you’ll be a better night photographer in 2021.

3. Calibrate and Clean Your Display

Your monitor is the most critical piece of gear in the digital darkroom. We all know that keeping it calibrated is important so that you can ensure you’re seeing the best and most accurate color. But when’s the last time you actually did that? Get out that colorimeter (we love the X-Rite i1Display Pro) and hone that display!

While you’re at it, dust the screen, and consider cleaning it as well. Just be sure to check the manufacturer’s instructions.

4. Clean Your Tripod

View fullsize

While we’re on the subject of cleaning, how’s your tripod holding up? Are the legs not quite as easy to open as they once were? Have you been shooting in the desert? Near the sea? Tripods don’t like sand and salt and other such things—they can get into crevices and joints, leading to eventual lockdown and corrosion.

At minimum, put your tripod in the shower and rinse it down, then towel-dry it with a soft cloth and allow it to completely air-dry overnight.

If you want to deep-clean (i.e., remove sand grains from leg locks, etc.), then you can take the tripod apart, thoroughly wash everything, and put it back together. This may also involve re-greasing the leg locks, which is super-easy. Again, check the manufacturer’s recommendations.

For some help, know that Really Right Stuff (RRS) has a great series of videos on cleaning tripods. RRS’s design is similar to Gitzo’s, so the how-to’s are largely cross-compatible. And even if you don’t own one of those two brands, much of the advice is still valid. It’s a great resource.

5. Vacuum & Organize Your Bag

During use, lots of dust, dirt and other particulates large and small can get into your camera bag. They hide in the seams, in the crevices, in the bottom of interior pockets, etc. And anything that’s in your bag will likely find its way onto and into your gear.

So empty your bag, then vacuum the inside with a nozzle attachment. Cram that nozzle into all the seams and corners, and suck out all that junk. Vacuum the outside too, with a brush attachment. Then wipe down the exterior with a damp cloth.

This gives you the added opportunity to reorganize your gear as you put it back in the bag. You might even find some items you forgot were in there. (If you find a film leader retriever, it’s probably been too long since you’ve cleaned your bag.) Anything you haven’t used in a long time can either go on a shelf in the closet, or you can commit to reintroducing that item into your workflow in the new year.

6. Clean & Calibrate Your Lenses

View fullsize

One last cleaning task: Get some good lens cleaning fluid and lens tissues (we like the Zeiss kit, no matter what brand lenses need to be cleaned). First use the blower and soft brush to remove dust, then polish the rear and front elements of all your glass. Your photos will be sharper and you’ll get less flare when shooting into the moon.

Then, fire off some test photos with each lens in your kit. Are they looking crisp? If you have a camera that allows you to calibrate the autofocus internally, sharpen your setup with a focus calibration target (we like the Vello LENS-2020). If you have an Irix lens, did you know you can calibrate the infinity focus? Check out this video.

Finally, are you truly familiar with how your lenses behave at night, particularly in relation to coma? If not, take a little time to test them. See Matt’s blog post “Getting the Best Star Points for Astro Landscapes: How to Test Lenses for Coma.”

7. Organize Lightroom

View fullsize

Pick a day and dedicate it to getting your catalog into the shape you’ve always wanted it to be in. You’ll be able to find your images faster, your workflow will be more efficient, your software will run faster. Need help? Read Tim’s blog post “Cleaning the Clutter: How to Get Your Lightroom Catalog in Tiptop Shape.” (Need more help, one-on-one? Book one of us for an online session and we’ll guide you through the process.)

8. Bone up on Leave No Trace

As folks who use the outdoors in our artistic endeavors, we are responsible for ensuring that we leave wild spaces as pristine as we find them. Do you remember everything you should be doing to keep nature natural? Give yourself a refresher by reading up on The Seven Principles of Leave No Trace. Better yet, get certified in them.

9. Start a Personal Project

What better time to start a new project than the beginning of a new year? Find a theme. Find an idea. Find a subject you care about. Then make a plan and get out to start shooting it.

10. Make a Filter for Your Flashlight

View fullsize

Do you light paint with an LED flashlight? Do you use it as-is, always shooting with an approximately daylight-balanced light? Well, what happens when you want to shoot with a non-daylight white balance, such as when shooting under moonlight, or photographing the Milky Way? Then the color temperature of your light painting will be out of whack.

Instead, prepare to keep it in whack. Download our Flashlight Filtration Guide, order the supplies, cut your gels, and control your color.

11. Make a Print of Your Favorite Photo from 2020

View fullsize

Admittedly, last year probably wasn’t your most creative campaign. Obstacles abounded. Still, you probably shot some frames you like, and among those you likely have a favorite. Print it. Frame it. Put it on your wall. It will serve as an inspiration—a reminder that you’re good, a reminder that you want to get out and shoot more and get even better.

12. Learn More

No matter how good you are at night photography, you can be better. Find a way to level up:

• Read this blog post: “New Year’s Revolutions: Six Steps to Shaking Up Your Night Photography.”

• Read a new night photography book. Or two, or three. (You can find more than a hundred suggestions on our Bookshelf.)

• Get out and shoot more.

• Attend a night photography workshop.

• Attend an online night photography conference. (Hmm. Where could you find one of those?)

Your Turn

And there you go, 12 things to do to prepare for being a great night photographer in the new year.

Have anything you’d like to add? We’d love to hear your tips for kicking off the photography new year just right. Post them in the comments section or on our Facebook page.

Chris Nicholson is a partner and workshop leader with National Parks at Night, and author of Photographing National Parks (Sidelight Books, 2015). Learn more about national parks as photography destinations, subscribe to Chris' free e-newsletter, and more at www.PhotographingNationalParks.com.

---

UPCOMING WORKSHOPS FROM NATIONAL PARKS AT NIGHT

Midwinter Musings: The Importance of the Solstice to the Night Photographer

Happy winter solstice to you!

Historically the winter solstice welcomes the beginning of winter, and it’s the shortest day and the longest night of the year.

It occurs when one of the earth’s poles is at its maximum tilt away from the sun. At and near the pole, there is continual darkness or twilight during the winter solstice—the exact opposite of summer solstice when inside the polar circles you can witness the midnight sun. In the Southern Hemisphere the winter solstice generally falls on June 20 or 21, and in the Northern Hemisphere on December 21 or 22. This year, it’s the 21st!

Winter Solstice Celebrations

The winter solstice (or, “midwinter”) has been celebrated and observed in many ways by humankind since as early as the end of the Stone Age (around 10,000 B.C.).

One of the most famous prehistoric monuments to the winter solstice is Newgrange in Ireland. Built in 3200 B.C., its opening perfectly aligns with the midwinter sunrise. For 17 minutes the sun shines directly down a long passage and illuminates the inner chamber to reveal carvings inside, including the most famous Irish megalithic symbol, the Tri-Spiral.

View fullsize

Newgrange and the Tri-Spiral at sunrise of the winter solstice. Photo CC Ken Williams.

And of course one of the most famous landmarks in the United Kingdom is Stonehenge, constructed between 3000 and 2000 B.C. The monument is aligned to the movements of the sun—or, more precisely, to the winter and summer solstices.

Many other monuments and celebrations exist and have existed throughout history. Great feasts and rituals have long been held on the winter solstice all over the world. Fires and lights are universal symbols of these celebrations. Some examples:

• Dong Zhi, which means “winter arrives,” is the Chinese observance of the winter solstice, Like many solstice celebrations, it started as a harvest festival. Families continue to come together and feast, to share well-wishes, and to celebrate the increase of positive energy for the year to come.

• St. Lucia Day, celebrated in Scandinavian countries, is meant to bring hope and light during the darkest time of the year.

• During Toji in Japan, people create massive bonfires on Mount Fuji to encourage the sun’s return and to focus on healing and good health.

• Persians have celebrated Shab-e Yalda, the “rebirth of the sun,” for centuries. It marks the longest night and the return of longer daylight hours. Fires were built at sundown and were continually stoked to last until the first rays of the next day. The celebration included food and song, as well as tales of the great battle of the sun god Mithra triumphing over darkness. 

• The Hopi of northern Arizona have celebrated the kachina dance during the winter solstice for over a millennium. The Soyal ceremony begins on the shortest day of the year and can last for up to 16 days. Dancing and sacred rituals focus on a plan of life in the coming year and celebrate turning back the sun toward the summer path.

What About Night Photographers?

For a night photographer, the winter solstice and the winter months are natural to celebrate, because they make for great night-shooting opportunities. Earlier and longer nights mean that even those of us who live in middle latitudes can start photographing as early as 4 or 5 p.m. We can still log a productive night’s work and be home for a cup of tea by 10!

Of course, many photographers hibernate when the weather turns cold. The galactic core of the Milky Way is not visible for most of the winter months in the Northern Hemisphere. Colder temperatures don’t inspire us to venture outside as much. But we need to celebrate and seize these winter months! (I wrote about this a few years ago in a post titled “Be Out in the Cold: Why Winter is Great for Night Photography.”)

First, of course, snow happens in winter! That soft, white blanket on a scene can make for truly inspiriting astro-landscape photos.

View fullsize

The mountain Skottinden looming over the snowy landscape of Ballstad, Norway. Hasselblad X1D II 50C with a Hassellblad 21mm f/4 XCD lens. 11 seconds, f/5.6, ISO 400.

Auroras happen year-round, but are much more visible during the darker months. (For more on photographing this dynamic feature of the night, see our previous blog posts “How to Photograph the Aurora Borealis” and “8 Illuminating Tips for Photographing Auroras.”)

View fullsize

Aurora over abandoned boat in Djúpavík, Westfjords, Iceland. Nikon D750 with a Nikon 14-24mm f/2.8 lens. 10 seconds, f/2.8, ISO 6400.

The moon can be our friend during the long winter months—you might be familiar with the lunar halo, or moon ring, which is caused by moonlight refracting, reflecting and dispersing as it passes through high-altitude ice particles and thin cirrus or cirrostratus clouds.

View fullsize

Lunar Halo over the Owens Valley Radio Observatory in California. This can be a common appearance in the winter, and according to folklore is a precursor to impending stormy weather. Nikon Z 7 with Nikon Z 14-30mm f/4 lens at 14mm. 15 seconds, f/5.6, ISO 800.

When the air gets even colder, the natural phenomenon known as light pillars can be another magical experience to capture during winter months.

Wait, There’s More!

If all that isn’t enough, the 2020 winter solstice will be an especially momentous one for the night photographer. For the first time in almost 800 years, we will witness the “great conjunction,” when Jupiter and Saturn, as seen from Earth, move together to be separated by only 0.1 degree. This will be visible from around the globe (weather permitting) in the western twilight sky. Both planets are very bright to the naked eye on their own, but if they were to join, what an amazing beacon that would be!

View fullsize

Composite of Saturn and Jupiter images. Both images courtesy of NASA.

Many of the news agencies are calling this the return of the “Star of Bethlehem” or “Christmas Star,” as history does show that in 7 B.C. a similar great conjunction happened three times in 8 months.

What will it look like for us? Will the planets form a superstar in the sky? It’s hard to say, as this phenomenon has never been photographed before. When asked about this, EarthSky’s lead sky writer Bruce McClure commented:

“I do not know for certain, but I doubt it. I’m guessing people with decent vision will view Jupiter and Saturn as two distinct points of light. Part of the fun is to wait and see. Remember that people with good vision can see Venus as a crescent with the eye alone when its angular diameter is one minute of arc or larger. At their closest, the angular separation between Jupiter and Saturn will be six times that distance: 6 minutes of arc.”

You might be getting a sense of the effect already, though, if you’ve had a clear twilight recently. Since December 16, the planets have been inching closer, and a lot of stargazers and photographers have been watching and shooting.

The 0.1-degree conjunction will happen on Monday, December 21—the winter solstice! It will last for about an hour after sunset—so get out there early and find a clear horizon to the west. Then, of course, stay out and continue to shoot!

The Solstice Shoot

As night photographers, let’s make sure we do two things:

First, remember that this is a special celestial event that the whole world can witness and share—let’s go out and celebrate this winter solstice! We’d love to see your interpretations of the great conjunction. You’ll definitely want to capture them as “star points,” but perhaps a superclose double star trail would be stellar too. Whatever you do—share your images and make sure to tag #nationalparksatnight.

Second, let’s continue this new night photography tradition of shooting during the winter solstice from now on. This is our longest night—let’s make sure to seize it!

Gabriel Biderman is a partner and workshop leader with National Parks at Night. He is a Brooklyn-based fine art and travel photographer, and author of Night Photography: From Snapshots to Great Shots (Peachpit, 2014). During the daytime hours you'll often find Gabe at one of many photo events around the world working for B&H Photo’s road marketing team. See his portfolio and workshop lineup at www.ruinism.com.

---

UPCOMING WORKSHOPS FROM NATIONAL PARKS AT NIGHT

Putting Pictures to Paper: How Printing Can Make You a Better Photographer

Last year Gabriel Biderman wrote a post about making printing part of your photographic process. I loved it. Then this past week our partners at Bay Photo Lab hung out with us during our night photography workshop at Golden Gate National Recreation Area.

Both of these things brought my thoughts back to my earliest days of photography, and got me thinking about why we printed then and how the print compares to the modern digital equivalent. It also led me to thinking about how printing is more than just another way to show our images in yet another medium. Printing can actually make you a better photographer.

View fullsize

Patrick (above, at left) from Bay Photo visited our workshop in San Francisco last week, to help spread the word about how important printing can be to improving photography skills. Me (right), more than a few years ago, loading my 4x5 camera with film—in the days when a print was the only final format.

View fullsize

A World of Myriad Media

Printing was always a huge part of my creative process. An image wasn’t complete until I mounted and framed the finished print and shared it with others. So how does that differ from today?

Well, these days we share our work a bit differently. For many, the final destination may very well be Facebook, an iPhone or an Instagram account. The share is so much faster. Immediate. And share we do. Perhaps we even overshare.

This rarely happened before—because printing took so much longer (and was much more expensive and time-consuming), it was inevitable that we wouldn’t be able to show as much of our work. Only the best images made it out of the darkroom or returned from the lab. This made us much more selective about what we presented to the world.

View fullsize

Modern tech has now made it fairly easy for us to us get our images in front of others. This ease, in turn, has made it tempting to share a lot more images. In many ways, this is good. It gets us out shooting, which provides the practice we need to get better, hones our skills at seeing light, and helps us improve our composition skills.

The downside is feeling compelled to put out images even when we know they are not our best. Today’s climate certainly rewards those who share frequently. But we have to remember the old adage: You are only as good as the weakest photo in your portfolio.

The majority of anyone’s images are just that—kinda weak. No one makes awesome images every time they pick up their camera. Most of our work is simply the attempt at making stunning images, but the true masterpieces are far between and few.

That being said, photography is one of those art forms that has many uses. As such, many of us don’t strive for a masterpiece with every exposure. A selfie in front of the Lincoln Memorial means something completely different than the same shot without you in it. There are as many reasons to take photographs as there are to share them. We just need to consider which work we want to share, how we want to share it, with whom, and for what reason. Your family will be most forgiving of technical errors in an image showing your vacation in Europe, while the audience at the coffee house may be decidedly more critical, and the visitors at a gallery more critical still.

View fullsize

Chris Nicholson recently made a 40x60 Bay Photo Xposer print of one of his Big Bend National Park images—just to put in his living room.

So, Why are We Printing?

To my mind, there are three good reasons for making a print:

1. To celebrate your masterpieces.

They are not easily achieved. Be proud of the hard work you’ve invested to create them. There is no reason to make prints of every snap you’ve made. But it’s really nice to honor your best pieces by creating prints of them. Putting them in books or placing them up on your wall will ensure they live on.

2. To slow yourself down.

It will take extra time, knowledge and money to make prints, so you will want to be selective. You will want to be more deliberate during the culling process. Really get in and examine your images. For each photograph you’re considering committing to paper, ask yourself:

• Is it sharp?

• Is the light right for the scene?

• How was your timing?

• Could you make a better photo if you returned?

When you’re spending more time and money on printing your photos, you may find you become much pickier.

In 2010, Lance Keimig printed for a Simmer Dim exhibit at New England School of Photography, showcasing his work from Scotland.

3. To become a better photographer.

Yup, creating prints will make you better. How? Through attention to detail. A good-size print won’t hide the flaws in your photo. In fact, it may highlight them. It’s beyond frustrating to spend a lot of money to get a large print made only to find out that there’s a technical problem with the shot—that it’s out of focus, for example, or that you missed a bunch of dust spots in the sky.

On the bright side, this type of lesson really hits home. It teaches you to be more careful so that the same mistake will not happen again. (On the other hand, when simply replacing an online photo with a fixed version, the inconvenience barely registers. No pain, no gain.)

Printing as a Way to Improve

Another part of the problem of oversharing our less-than-stellar work arises from the way we view the images. The small screens of the phone and tablet—and the small sizes of the images shown on them—do a great job at hiding imperfections. They don’t hide poor composition or uninteresting imagery. This makes it difficult to ascertain the quality of craftsmanship. We can cheat, or we can post images that we wouldn’t otherwise show. As it turns out, it’s not hard to hide poor technique on an iPhone.

The print however, can shed an extra ray of light on laziness and negligence.

View fullsize

Attendees of our 2018 Sloss Furnaces workshop had their favorite images printed for an exhibit at the national historic landmark’s visitor center. Photo © Ron Clemmons.

Now, take that same less-than-stellar image and try to make a print.

• Does it look the same?

• Does it have the same impact?

• Will it stand up to the continued scrutiny of being viewed every day?

• Is it as good as you thought it was, now that you see it large?

Making prints will make you a better photographer. The person who spends time perfecting the craft and paying attention to detail will ultimately produce far better photography.

And I don’t mean just technically superior imagery. I also mean more meaningful photography. The whole process of slowing down and working in a more meticulous manner will not only benefit your technical chops, but it will also improve your composition and seeing skills. That, arguably, is even more important.

As Gabe says, “Seize the print!”

Tim Cooper is a partner and workshop leader with National Parks at Night. Learn more techniques from his book The Magic of Light Painting, available from Peachpit.

---

UPCOMING WORKSHOPS FROM NATIONAL PARKS AT NIGHT