Editing: Another "Other White Meat"

It's late in the afternoon. The sunset is striking. I'm sitting, alone, outdoors, at a coffee house near home. They have free WiFi, here, at "Its a Grind." Starbucks should take note.

As beautiful as it is, the sunset makes me melancholy. Mostly, I suppose, because I’m sitting here... alone.

But that's not why I'm writing.

Instead, I thought I'd write about editing. No, I'm not referring to PS touch-ups and/or other post-processing techniques. I'm writing about editing, i.e., the ability to select the best images from your photo shoots: Those images that you plan to share with others.

Like shutter speed, editing is a less-talked-about consideration, certainly in terms of it being a "hard" photographic skill. There's SOOOoooooo much written about lighting and exposure (mostly aperture, as discussed in my last) and, of course, post-processing. On the flip-side, significantly less is written about editing. That’s why, once again, I'm using the (clever?) pork, "other white meat," analogy. Or is it a metaphor? I'm always getting those two things screwed up.

I spend a fair amount of time on photography forums, mostly those forums where pretty girl shooters congregate. You know which boards I'm talking about.... the boards that hold glamour, beauty, even fashion and other genres of pretty girl shooting near and dear to their cyber-hearts.

While perusing and participating on these sites, I always take time to view plenty of images. You can’t help but doing so. Almost every thread features someone’s work. Usually, because of the specific boards I frequent, I'm seeing images of pretty, sexy models captured beautifully and, unfortunately, not so beautifully. Partially because of this blog, and possibly the fact that I'm one of those guys who manages to make some sort of a living shooting pretty girls, I seem to have a fair amount of juice on these boards. When I comment on someone's image, whether my comment is critically positive or not, its usually perceived as an of "expert" opinion. So often when I comment, a special "Thanks for commenting, Jimmy" follows.

As a rule, I'm not much for handing out "attaboys." If I think an image is pretty good, I'll rarely comment. When I think an image is not so good, I'm more likely to comment. Because of this, I think I sometimes come across as a harsh critic. Oh well. If you can't handle the heat, get out of the freakin' kitchen. (Not that my ego is immune to pain but I enjoy the solace of still getting paid even when I shoot crappy images of less than expected quality.)

When someone takes personal exception to my criticisms and informs me of this, I'll usually take time to write to them and explain, in more detail, whatever it is about their image(s) that I'm not too impressed with. I often try to offer suggestions for improvement. Of course, so much of this stuff is purely subjective. My opinions aren't any more valid than the opinions of anyone else, regardless of my "juice" or professional experience in the matter. In fact, not only are my opinions not any more valid than other people's opinions, I often mention (to those I'm writing to) that I don't think my photography is any better than their photography. The truth is, there are many, many shooters out there who are better shooters than I am, whether they're shooting pretty girls or anything else. But here's where I think I sometimes have an edge over many of those people, not all of them, but many: Editing.

If there's one thing I've learned, it's this: Don’t fall in love with any image I capture because, nine times out of ten, there are plenty of folks who will disagree about the quality and impact and usability of that particular image. Fortunately for me, many of the people who make those kinds of judgments about my pictures do so for a living, e.g., photo editors, graphic artists, etc. And since I've often had the opportunity to ask those people why they've selected one or more of my images over others (for publication or for a poster or an ad or the cover of a DVD or whatever) I've positively benefited from a real-world education that few hobbyists are given the opportunity to participate in. Except, perhaps, when they participate on photo forums. But then, who's making the judgments on those boards? Well, it’s usually not people who make those kinds of calls for a living.

Editing is supremely important. It’s as important as your shooting skills, your lighting skills, your skills directing models, and your post-production skills. It's as important as using the right tools for the job. No matter how hard you try, you can't (always) frost a turd. Underneath the frosting, it's still a turd. Even those images that aren't turds, but are simply not so good, are difficult to hide-- that is, to hide the fact that its simply a mediocre image.

Keen, professional, eyes will almost always ferret out a sow's ear from the silk purses no matter how heavily or carefully or competently post-processed a pedestrian image might be. Or, how hot, sexy, beautiful, and alluring your model might be. That's what those people do. They get paid for having a discerning eye. Not so much a photographer's eye but an eye for spotting quality and noticing flaws and detracting elements and other things that take an image down, leastwise, that take it down in terms of it being a suitable image to use for a story, an ad, a poster, a DVD cover, just about any commercial use. Sometimes those flawed elements are very obvious. Sometimes they're quite subtle.

My experience with people who judge my pictures, i.e., judge their usefulness for whatever their intent might be, has afforded me the ability to more effectively remove myself, as a creator of the image, and to grow something of a third, closer to impartial, eye. No, I can't always dismiss my personal preferences or the emotions that I might attach to a particular image but, with the help of the people I've mentioned, I've been able to hone those skills fairly well. At least, in my opinion it has.

Working with those folks, those third-party, professional, image appraisers, has (I think) made me a better judge of my own work and, perhaps, a fairly good judge of other people's work. Its given me the ability to (not only) spot the obvious, but to focus in on the subtle things that make one image less, uhhh... special than another. It's not that I have a natural ability to do this--some people do--but it's been this experience, this educational process, that has helped me edit my own work and to be a fairly decent judge of the work of others. Leastwise, in terms of the commercial elements that make one picture, *the* shot. And it's mostly because, as opposed to hobbyists, I so often benefit and get chances to learn from the judgments of others who, I'll say it again, make those judgments for a living.

I don't know what I can recommend to all you shooters who don't, ordinarily, have the luxury of getting feedback, editing feedback, from pro editors. I guess all I can suggest is to listen to what others tell you and figure out how to use some kind of emotional Luffa sponge to scrape your ego's skin a bit thinner. And if you keep hearing the same sorts of comments about your work, especially when those comments are seemingly negative, realize that all those people saying the same or similar things probably aren't wrong. Instead of getting all "butt-hurt" over it, do something about it. Learn to spot those flaws and quit trying to frost turds or pass off pedestrian work as something more. Once you've developed some good shooting and processing skills, there's almost nothing more important than developing your editing skills. Nothing.

Once again, I can't remember the name of the model at the top. Maybe I'm getting model's-name-Alzheimers? The picture isn't a turd, per se, but I doubt it would ever pass muster with someone editing my pics for a men's mag or an ad or whatever. Sure, she's hot. She's sexy. She looks good. But, she doesn't look as good as she could or should. Can you spot the elements of this image that take it down too many notches for it to be used? And I ain't referring to the wannabe-artsy B&W conversion.