We spend a lot of time on f/stops, shutter speeds, lighting ratios and the like around here. But none of these things —
none — matters when compared against another variable: What can you actually accomplish with your photography?
Long-time readers will be familiar with Florida-based nature
photographer John Moran from previous article on Strobist. Always an
advocate of nature, he has been one of natural Florida's most eloquent
voices for conservation. Now he's taking that fight to the next level,
aiming his cannons —and his Canons — at one critical target: saving
Florida's natural springs.
What a person with a camera, a few lights and a vision (and help from his friends) can accomplish, below.
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Man on a Mission
What matters to you? Seriously, everyone is passionate about something.
What if you could use your cameras and vision to affect change for
something that was truly important to you?
This is what John Moran is doing, and it is a blueprint for any
photographer who wants to leverage his or her skills to do something
meaningful.
When planning this entry, I sent John a brief list of questions to
consider so I could wrap a post around his answers. But what I got back
was classic Moran: a full, 360-degree essay that touches on many of the
things that make a project like this come alive.
There's vision, photographic technique, collaboration, leverage, even
the public tweaking of authority. And, absolutely boatloads of passion.
If you want a template on how to turn your love for photography into
something real and tangible and a catalyst for change, you could do far
worse than to read what John wrote back to me. Which is why I am running
it in its entirety. I have annotated it [
in bracketed itals.] but from here, the words are his.
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John Moran, on Springs Eternal
The heart of my job as a Florida nature photographer is to be amazed,
and to remind viewers why so many of us fell in love with Florida in the
first place.
I gave my heart to the springs of North Florida soon after moving to
Gainesville to attend the University of Florida 40 years ago. While lots
of places have beautiful beaches and bays and rivers and lakes, Florida
alone is home to the world's largest and most impressive array of
freshwater springs. But many of our beloved "bowls of liquid light," in
the words of writer Marjory Stoneman Douglas, have fallen on hard times
in recent years, withering under the twin assault of pollution — much of
it from fertilizer nitrates — and relentless groundwater over-pumping.
This year marks the 500th anniversary of the arrival of Juan Ponce de
Leon in Florida on his fabled search for the Fountain of Youth. Ponce's
search was a myth (he was really looking for slaves and gold) but our
springs — our true magic fountains — are very real, and very
threatened.
Two years ago, I joined with Lesley Gamble, an art history teacher at the University of Florida, to create the
Springs Eternal Project,
an evolving series of creative partnerships in collaboration with a
diverse community of springs scientists, researchers, artists and
advocates.
One of the project components was to create a major exhibit,
Springs Eternal: Florida's Fragile Fountains of Youth, which
is currently on display at the Florida Museum of Natural History in
Gainesville. I worked for the past two years to create new work to add
to my personal archive and the exhibit is a 30-year retrospective of my
springs photography. The exhibit continues through Dec. 15th (Learn more
at
JohnMoranPhoto.com.)
Many of the photos are beautiful, befitting the subject matter, but some
— especially the then-and-now pairings showing the changes I've seen —
are heartbreaking; once-blue springs that now are murky, green and
slimed with algae.
The night-time photos accompanying this post were created in partnership with my friend and fellow Florida photographer
David Moynahan, with post-production by
Jon M. Fletcher. (Jon also made the museum exhibition photo.)
The spring seen at top is a little gem on the Suwannee River. I call the photo
Oasis in the Dark, and
it reflects my belief that the soul of Florida can yet be found by
those with wonder in their hearts. Rarely do I feel more fully alive or
closer to the presence of the divine than when I visit one of our
beautiful springs in the dark. Add a little light and the world is
transformed, if only for a while.
With the camera clamped to a ladder tripod, [
Note: Moran's custom 20+ feet-tall Frankenstein ladder/tripod, AKA the "Johhny-Pod," is a post in itself.]
the photo was created with about 20 exposures blended together to
illuminate the scene. Nothing was added in post, beyond blending the
layers of light. [
Note: Here's how to do that.]
We used a mix of lights, including a Q-Beam spotlight, a Light and
Motion Sola dive light, an Inon Z-240 underwater flash and a custom
underwater bare-bulb flash, powered by a modified Norman 200B battery
pack, that I built 15 years ago.
After finishing our evening's work, David and I grabbed the dive light
and took turns free-diving at midnight, deep into the third spring bowl
in the background of the photo. I live for moments like this.
The photo is one of 88 featured in the Springs Eternal exhibit, which
museum officials estimate will be viewed by some 150,000 visitors during
its nine-month run. One of my underwater photos, showing a pair of
manatees at Crystal River National Wildlife Refuge, covers a clerestory
window with transparent film panels measuring 20x60 feet. [
Note: o_0]
The exhibit also features quotes from our governor and secretary of
environmental protection, proclaiming in effect what a fine job they are
doing as environmental stewards. Juxtaposing their words against
pictures clearly showing our springs in decline, the exhibit could lead
one to conclude that the mightiest river in Florida is now the river of
denial flowing through Tallahassee.
I've long had my vision — that's second-nature to what we do and who we
are as photographers. And for many years, I was content to be a nature
photographer who just made pretty pictures. But reality kept getting in
the way, and along the way I found my voice and I began speaking out
about the changes I have seen. I wrote newspaper op-eds and gave
impassioned speeches, including on the Capitol steps at the Florida Springs Rally.
I came to see that many of the agency officials to whom we have
entrusted the protection of our priceless natural treasures talk a good
line, but that my pictures tell a different story. I realized that you
don't need to be a scientist or a planner or a politician or an expert
to have a place at the table and that it falls to us as artists to give
voice to the truth that
place matters, and that our bond with our place on the planet is one of the most deeply felt needs of the human soul.
Our springs are world-class treasures and they deserve world-class
protection. Pictures have a way of reaching people in ways that words
alone cannot, and I am hopeful that my work has added to the dialogue
about water and Florida's future. We are working now to get the exhibit
catalog into the hands of every one of Florida's 160 state legislators,
and to travel the museum exhibit to other venues statewide.
If democracy is fundamentally about having a conversation, the question here is, "Who speaks for our springs?"
I have been drawn to answer that call. Our pools of stunning blue wonder
deserve no less. But if you ask whether I really believe that
photography can save the springs of Florida, I will tell you that's not
how I measure the worthiness of this endeavor.
I'm a collector of aphorisms; simple truths writ small. Here's one I like, a
philosophical four-step
that has guided this project and allowed me to focus less on grief and
anger, and more on wonder and gratitude: Show Up. Pay Attention. Speak
Your Truth.
Let Go of Outcomes.
As I end this, let me say that I have long been impressed with the
extraordinary talents of the Strobist community. I have learned a lot
from following this blog. And to those who have mastered the craft of
photography and are in a reflective mood as you ponder your next steps,
remember the words of the Buddha: "The purpose of life is to find your
purpose and then with all of your heart, give yourself to it."
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