The first things I learned about photographic lighting weren’t technically about lighting at all. They were new (to me at the time) ideas about how best to use the light that already existed in a scene.
I read an article by Ken Rockwell in which he wrote that most amateur photographers shot sunsets too early and that he wanted to shoot them after all the other photographers had left–about fifteen minutes to half an hour after sunset.
So there you have it. It’s a very simple tip, but it can give you dramatic results. Try shooting sunsets after sunset.
This lesson was coupled tightly with another. When I first began taking pictures, I was enamored of the idea of night and low-light photography. I loved the way buildings looked with light glowing from the windows, outdoor fixtures, and so on. I often waited until after dark to shoot lights from houses, office buildings, and cabins where they were commonly reflecting off mountain lakes.
Shots like this can be improved vastly by shooting them during the few fleeting moments when the light in the evening sky is balanced with the light from the buildings. Below are two examples that each demonstrate a different look achieved using this tip.
Sometimes lighting a photo is simply a matter of showing up on time, or waiting for the desired conditions. Natural light can be some of the most pleasing because it is familiar and yet dramatic when exploited properly in a photograph.
When I first starting doing any photography, it was low-light photography on a tripod. If that seems like a strange place for a beginner, what I can say in my defense was that I was simply imitating the main interest of the person who got me interested in photography, and he helped (or would it be better to say “enabled?”) me by lending me a Luna-Pro F meter and a cable release (who remembers the mechanical shutter?) I go along with him on his night photo excursions, and loved them. He lived in NJ, and loved to catch the ruined grandeur of disused industrial sites within driving distance. I’ve lost touch with him since, sorry to say.
At the time I was living with my folks on Long Island, finishing my degree, working part-time and taking pictures with what time I had left over. I’m not fond of my hometown, and I think the nighttime brought out the genuinely sinister things about it—or maybe I just thought it did.
What I loved and still love about low light and night photography and what you show so beautifully in your last two photos is the difference between the way the eye sees and film/digital sensors “see.” Our visual systems correct for color imbalances that photographic media doesn’t, and I hope never will. The blue/yellow color combination in the next-to-last photo, caused by the different color temperature of natural light and incandescent light, is just magic; the dots of green light from florescent lighting in the last shot (to me at least) fills out the color palate and gives a slight but definitely sinister air to the cityscape, as if each window were some opening onto strange dealings or the workings of a mad scientist.
I’m very glad you stopped by, Curtiss. Thanks for the excellent comments! I took care of the second copy of this one. I do have moderation on, but now that I’ve approved you once, any future comments will post immediately.
Thanks for the kind words about those photos. I, too, hope cameras always treat light this way.