Fundamental Errors in Spacetime That Even Experienced Photographers Make

Photography, whether photojournalism, documentary, sports, wildlife, or even landscapes, is much about camera placement and timing. But there are some fundamental mistakes that most of us photographers make that are barriers to getting great photos.

Spacetime is a beautiful idea. Three-dimensional space (up/down, left/right, and forwards/backwards) and one-dimensional time (it only moves in one direction, from the past to the future) are constituent parts of the same thing. Consequently, you can only be in one place at one time. A skilled photographer knows where to be and when to press the shutter release. That skill is achieved not through luck but through planning.

Let's take, for example, my preparation for shooting a seascape photograph at sunrise. I work out where I must be to see the sun come above the horizon, and I time it to be there at the right moment. If I went to the wrong location at the wrong time, I would not get the shot.

So, the first mistake people make is not properly planning their shots, therefore not being in the correct location in spacetime. Misquoting a well-known military saying: "Proper Prior Planning Prevents Poor Photographic Performance."

Of course, there is nothing wrong with just going for a walk with your camera and hoping for the best; I do it. In fact, all the photos accompanying this article I shot early on this dull, wet morning. They are okay, but not amazing. My planning typically includes knowing the position of the sun at a particular time, the weather, the state of the tide, the subject I'm going to shoot, the gear I need to take with me, the camera placement and settings, and wearing the appropriate clothing.

Because I have lived here for 15 years, some of it has become second nature; the historic planning is embedded in my mind, so experience takes over. I was in the right place, I was wearing proper clothing, my camera was set correctly, and the tide was about right. However, the probability of me capturing something stunning would have been far greater had I planned it. That would have resulted in me going an hour earlier on a brighter morning. 

Having the correct gear with me does not mean packing a camera bag full of every lens I own, carrying all five spare batteries, and lugging a tripod everywhere with me. In fact, I no longer own a camera bag. They get in the way and restrict movement. Additionally, I will not change a lens on location because of the damage that can cause. Whether shooting landscapes, weddings, wildlife, or street photography, all that extra, unwanted kit is just an impediment.

Photographers buy vast amounts of kit and feel compelled to carry it everywhere. They would get better photos and suffer fewer backaches if they just took what they needed for their planned photo. So, I will probably carry my camera secured on the tripod, and an ND filter screwed to the lens for a seascape shoot. For bird photos, it's just the camera and shoulder sling. The battery will be fully charged, that will last me all day, and the SD card will be empty and in the camera.

Without that heavy burden of a kit bag, I can safely climb over rocks or wade into the sea without being hindered by it. I want my position in spacetime to be standing with my camera taking photos and not in the water after losing my balance and falling. Furthermore, I don't want the incoming tide washing over my spare kit if I left it in a bag on the beach; I've seen that happen.

The next mistake is maybe not a mistake at all, but a different approach to photography, and it's about how to time the shot. It's nearly impossible to talk about timing in photography without a nod to Henri Cartier-Bresson. So, now that's out of the way, let's discuss the two approaches to capturing the decisive moment.

Historically, photographers would have studied their subjects. Thus, they would learn to anticipate the precise moment to press the shutter. Then, motor winds were invented, enabling continuous shooting, albeit at a slow rate compared with today's standards. My camera can fire off 120 raw frames a second and be buffering images before the shutter button is fully depressed. Consequently, my chances of missing the shot are significantly reduced, as my reaction time is taken out of the equation.

Do you see the problem? That rapid-fire approach to capturing the photograph means that new photographers don't learn the skill of anticipating the action. Is this important? They still get the photo, and if the result is all that matters to them, then the answer is no, it isn't. However, if photography also means learning how the subject behaves, then switching off these modes and learning to shoot single frames facilitates that. The obvious subject I am referring to here is wildlife, but it could be an aircraft, a wave on the sea, a person on the street, or the sunlight flickering through a leaf. All the photos in this article were shot as single frames.

That rapid-fire approach with guaranteed results probably appeals to the modern mindset of having everything instantly without putting in the hard work. Still, I wonder whether we, by handing so much over to technology, are losing a sense of achievement that was once the result of effort and learning.

The final mistake relating to time and space is the single-minded pursuit of the commonplace. Trends in photography usually start because one skilled and inventive photographer finds their own style, placing their camera at a particular place at a specific time. People hail it as a success, and then, they copy it. There is absolutely nothing wrong with emulating the styles and techniques of a photographer we look up to, but that should just be a starting place for finding our own style.

Take, for example, studio portraits. Most fall within a limited number of styles copied from the likes of Annie Leibovitz or David Bailey. Then Google the images of the White House, the Eiffel Tower, the Leaning Tower of Pisa, or St Paul's Basilica. Many of those photos are so similar they have become clichéd. So too have pictures of birds on a stick, forced perspectives, black and white images of Yosemite, newlyweds looking over the landscape towards a sunset, or uncomfortably cropped frames. Adding to a cliché does little for photography or our growth in the art, although it can be an excellent place to start our photographic journey into spacetime.

How much planning do you put into a shot? Do you rely on technology, or do you go back to basics and shoot everything manually? It will be great to hear your thoughts in the comments.