Section 2: Creating Romance for a Steely Subject
Using Light to Tell the Story

It was a photographic project that simply wasn’t in the budget. Neither the time nor capital was available, but like so many times over my career, we just did it. Sharon, our son Jake, and I were in Dayton, OH in 2012 to celebrate the 70th anniversary of the Doolittle Raid on Tokyo, 18 April 1942, and honor those fearless young men who struck the Japanese heartland, shaking their beliefs, while giving the US public a shot in the arm. With the age of the survivors, it was a huge celebration encompassing many days around the anniversary date. It would become the largest gathering of B-25s since the 1942 raid! The B-25s were congregating at Grimes Field the day before the flight into Wright-Patterson Air Force Base for the official ceremonies.

Why were we there? Something just told Sharon and I we needed to be there even with it being a self-assignment. Sharon’s father was an inspecting engineer on the B-25 line in Kansas City during WWII; my father was a bombardier/navigator in the B-29. That slight, slight connection with the events of the week, along with the history, was the pull telling us we should be at this reunion.

We had come in early because experience had taught us that arriving early to aviation events equals opportunities. At the same time, I had literally just received the brand new D4, and other than a few days in the office, I had no experience with it. It’s not always the smartest thing to do—going on a job with new gear (I treat these all like a paying job)—but I knew by going early, if there were issues, I had a fall back (luckily, there were none). It was the first day of the fly-ins at Grimes, two days prior to the reunion, and about half of the expected B-25s were parked about the field. We parked just as the rain showers were thinking about stopping, and Jake and I walked into the hangar, got our credentials, and walked out onto the field. We saw some friends who were there with their B-25s and talked with them to find out the schedule. Just as the sun was burning its way through the clouds, we started photographing statics and folks.

The rest of that day and that night, we kept on shooting as the remaining B-25s rolled in and parked. At the same time, I started to work the field, trying to get a ride into Wright- Patterson in a B-25 for the following day. All the B-25s were to fly into Wright-Patterson AFB the next morning for the start of the reunion. While it was a short hop from Grimes Field to Wright-Patterson, being on a B-25 crew for the event was a once-in-a- lifetime opportunity. I headed over to Spike, the PIC (pilot-in-command) for Maid in the Shade, the B-25 from the AZ Wing of the CAF (Commemorative Air Force). I had done a lot of work with them in the past, so I thought they would be my best bet. I knew, though, that they flew in with a full crew, so I wasn’t hopeful. I went over to find out that one of the crew who flew in wanted to be on the ground, not in the plane, so there was an open seat. After signing the right forms, that seat was mine the next day!

The excitement in the air even before the props turned was amazing! The crowds were there to see the 20 gathered B-25s, the greatest gathering since the end of WWII, take off to make the short hop over to Wright-Patterson. The B-25 is not a quiet plane and the noise of 20 was deafening! Sharon and Jake were at the end of the taxiway at Grimes to photograph the planes before they took the active (the runway where they take off). I was in Maid in the Shade, and once in the air, I was permitted to crawl the tunnel and get in the greenhouse (the nose of the B-25). It was the flight of a lifetime! And, the event held in store more amazing experiences that would change my career. It was the perfect way to start!

Like a Moth to a Flame

Why is this at the front of the book? Because we, as photographers, are storytellers, and light is just as important as everything else! As is true with every genre of photography, light is everything in aviation photography. Unlike other genres of photography, though, aviation has much more flexibility in making use of light that other subjects simply don’t. Don’t be under the illusion that this chapter, as with any other book once read, makes you a master of light. Using light to tell the story we want to tell is a lifelong quest that any great photographer will never conquer, but rather always find as the challenge that makes him/her go out and shoot every day. What this will do is make you look for that great light for storytelling and help you when you recognize it.

Aviation photography has three aspects to it to consider when it comes to light: you have the aircraft itself, the people that bring life to the aircraft, and the place where the aircraft and the people can enjoy their passion for flight. One of the intriguing aspects of aviation photography is picking which one of these, or a combination of all three, you want to focus in on. The beauty is you can do them all at the same time, but only one can be the subject in your viewfinder at one given time. It’s when you ask yourself, “What’s the subject?” that you must pay attention to the light and use it to tell the story.

Once we select our subject, we have many facets of light we must consider and cajole into every one of our clicks. The main aspect of light is the storytelling. The mind’s eye is drawn to light and bright in our photograph like a moth to a flame. Understanding this permits you to vary the size of the subject in the frame and that influences your storytelling. Knowing and using this can often make the arranging of elements in our frame (what most call composition) not only easier, but also more effective. Coupled with this aspect is how we want to talk about that light, what most think of as exposure and what I consider essential—emotion!

As we began to understand in the last section, we can bring out the mood of the image and talk emotionally about the subject with how we expose for the light. There is no right or wrong, there is only better or worse when discussing exposure. Both of these must be considered, as we look at the subject in the viewfinder and make the decision about what the story is we’re going to share.

Since the dawn of photography, there have been “rules” about light, which may or may not apply to aviation photography. More importantly, these rules might or might not pertain to you, the storyteller. I keep talking about storytelling, but understanding this is who you are and what you’re about makes the photographic process so much clearer. There is most definitely a quality and quantity of light we want in our photographs. To repeat, there is a quality and quantity of light we want in our photographs. But, because of our subjects, these “rules” should be thought of as guidelines at best. This, I think, you’ll find liberating in your photography. And, in combination with the story you want to tell, you might find aviation photography is exhausting because you can shoot all day long, as long as there is some light at hand and a story to tell!

Golden Rule as a Rule...?

We all are looking to make that great, once-in-a-lifetime click every time we put our camera to our eye. As soon as you make the common uncommon in your photograph, you are a huge way there. To that, you add some drama from lens and angle, and you’re even further. And with passion, you’ve created that photo! The one thing that puts you over the top in this quest is light and having it is in large part due to timing. Passion, emotion is expressed in light and exposure. Why does that group of photographers get up at 04:30 every morning to take advantage of that sunrise pass at a air show? Why do photographers hang at air shows after the crowds are long gone for sunset? It’s all in the hopes that the timing is right for that great light to express what they feel!

But Great Light Can Happen Anytime During the Day!

We have three basic times of the day that describe a photographer’s light: dawn, noon, and dusk. The simplistic lumping of light into the early morning, late evening, and the time in-between often governs the photographer’s habits. It shouldn’t, though, when it comes to aviation. This tried-and-true method has, of course, produced some gorgeous images over the decades. What is it about those early and late hours that make them the “golden” light, and the time in-between thought of as nasty?

It really comes down to one component in light: shadow. This probably really doesn’t make sense since most are afraid of shadows. But, I’m going to encourage you to embrace them. How little or how much shadow do you want or need in your photograph? That is, of course, up to you, the storyteller. Shadow can hide information and intrigue the imagination. Both are elements we need in our photograph. Shadow gives shape to our one-dimensional images. Shadow provides visual depth. Shadow gives texture to our shape, its design and construction. How much or how little shadow we have in our photograph is often referred to as contrast. Contrast refers to the range of light from the highlights to the shadows. In those early and late hours, we have minimal contrast—the range of light being the smallest and the easiest for us to work in. With that knowledge, we shouldn’t limit our aviation photography to just those hours.

When you have a static aircraft (unless it’s a plane-on-a-stick), highlights will be lit on its top, while under the wings and fuselage will be in shadow. When you go click, how much information you capture on the top and the bottom of that aircraft depends on the exposure you selected and its relationship to the light value that’s present. This is where most photographers start having challenges. But, those challenges, that big exposure range, might be minimized when shooting during the golden hours. “Might” is the key word here.

This FM-2 Wildcat is a good example of what we’re talking about. You can see in the hub (nose cone) that the sun is about to make an appearance, as it has just started to break through the fog in the background. The light on the top of the fuselage permits detail in the highlights to be captured while we can see into the shadows in the wheel well. There is some shadow, giving the big fuselage that “pudgy” feel, while there are highlights that suggest it’s metal. And, even though it’s parked on the ramp, you can see some detail under the wings in its shadow. This is your basic early-morning, late-evening light quality that in every other genre of photography, photographers look for. It’s gorgeous light!

Many air shows have a “photographer” pass or “hour” where you pay a few extra bucks and can get in early, or in some cases, stay late. When you start your shooting prior to the sun striking your subject, the range of light from the top of the aircraft to underneath will be at a minimum in some cases. But, the overall quality of the light is gorgeous. The light, early in the morning and late in the evening, has a range that is less than 3 stops. With our digital cameras able to record up to 5 stops in one click, we are able to get the information in the highlights (top of the aircraft) and the shadows (under the wings and fuselage) with ease. At that same time, the light, as it wraps around all the round surfaces, has enough shadow to communicate shape, which is so important in aviation photography.

But, here’s the beauty of aviation photography: we are by no means tied down to just these hours for shooting! In fact, some midday hours with certain aircraft are better than early or late. A quick example is when you have some wisps of clouds in the background bringing the romance of aviation into your photograph. This is a slam dunk to a beautiful photograph. Who doesn’t get caught up in a gorgeous sunrise or sunset? But when there is no great sky to put in the background of our aircraft, sunrise and sunset might be the worst hours for our photography. We have options!

What Changes This Formula?

Light is this truly mystical element in photography that is governed by physics. This means it is, in one part, math (the other part, of course, is emotion). When you put this fact about light in the back of your mind, then the geometry of light starts to take hold and can be played. For example, aircraft are typically cylinders, often parked on a plane (the three points make a plane kind of a plane). These shapes of geometry are ones we can take advantage of, even if the light is not falling during the early or late hours, to speak about a particular aircraft. If you think back to your days of geometry in school, these shapes came to life on our math pages with shading—shadows.

On the ramp at Chino Airport, near the Planes of Fame Air Museum, is this ominous Focke-Wulf Fw 190. The difference between these two photos (opposite page) is a mere 8 minutes! The first photo was taken with the sun still shining—you can see its glow on the horizon. In the second photo, the sun is well below the horizon and just a hint of it can be seen in the color at the horizon. Emotionally, these two photos have a totally different feel between them. And, while that is important when bringing the romance to our aviation photography, I want to focus our attention on another aspect of these two photos.

Look at the shadow under the wings. If you look at the sun shot compared to the dusk shot, there is a huge difference in that shadow! Reversed from common practice, there is more shadow detail under the wings in the full sun shot compared to that in the dusk, even though the dusk shot has a smaller range of light. You know that because if you look at the shadows in the sun shot, there is a heavy shadow of the prop on the fuselage and on the ground below and behind the Focke-Wulf, where there is none in the dusk shot.

So, if the dusk shot has the smaller range of light, why is the area underneath the wings nearly black and lacking detail? It’s really simple: reflected light! It’s the physics and geometry of light working for us in aviation photography. Since we were afforded the luxury of placing the Focke-Wulf where we wanted it, we placed it just off the blacktop and on the cement. Why was that important? Cement and blacktop reflect light, and in this case with the full sun, it’s bouncing light up into the wings, into the shadows, and opening them up. At the same time, the blacktop reflects black and that “negative light” defines edges of the aircraft and its unique details with black. It’s your basic product shot, studio lighting formula, but on a much, much larger scale.

The beauty is that knowing this “breaks” the golden rule, permitting us to make images of aircraft basically all day long and producing images that, at the very least, are very satisfactory (light-wise). Reflected light—be it from the ramp, other aircraft or hangars, or from the subject aircraft itself—often opens up shadows, minimizing contrast and telling more of the visual story. The key is to recognize this light, manipulate this light, and take advantage of it. And, in a way, ignore some of the sage advice concerning light for most genres of photography and realize it doesn’t always apply to aviation photography. When you see you can’t get into an air show until 09:00, don’t assume you’re toast for photography; it might be that it’s the perfect time to be shooting! (And, we’re not done there, as we have the digital darkroom, too!)

A Brief Thought on the Benefit of Contrast

Aircraft are not constructed from a single sheet of metal. They are assembled from many, many panels of metal or wood held together with rivets and screws. The lines of all these panels and the dots from the rivets and screws can quite often make or break a photograph. They come to life from contrast—shadows bringing out their shape and the texture they create. When you have that shadow on those seams and rivets from high contrast, they visually pop and that brings to life another whole dimension of that aircraft. And, they trick the eye into thinking the image is sharper than perhaps it truly is.

A vast majority of the aircraft we photograph have been restored to airworthy condition (airworthy = flyable). In some cases, the condition of the aircraft was once a pile of parts in a large box prior to restoration. The craftsmanship in the restoration of an aircraft is often an art all in itself, and at times, is the subject of our photos. The inclusion of that shadow, that dark line that emphasizes the seams or lack thereof, or those rivets or lack thereof, can be essential. These, when all put together, are what make it possible for those planes to fly.

What does this mean to actual shooting? Contrast is a play between highlights and shadows, and with aviation can be the key to telling the story. This is accomplished the easiest when the sun is not low to the horizon. Highlights—those bright spots in our photographs, which are often the sun reflecting off the fuselage—are one end of the contrast. We tend to underexpose to capture those highlight details, and in doing so (as we learned in the last section), make the shadows darker or go black. Then, in shooting to bring out the detail in the restoration, craftsmanship, or uniqueness in an aircraft, you might need to shoot at high noon rather than early or late in the day.

The Flagship Detroit Foundation’s spectacularly restored DC-3 Flagship Detroit is a tribute to all the employees of American Airlines. On display and flying at Oshkosh in full sun at 14:00, the contrast in the light can get no greater and because of that, there isn’t a seam or rivet even at this distance that doesn’t visually pop in the photograph (this is not a static shot, this is a ground-to-air shot taken with the 200–400 VR II). This is true even when you consider that the size of one rivet in the photograph is infinitesimally small, yet it still pops. That’s just a killer attribute to the light that we can take full advantage of in our aviation photography.

What’s the Best Light Then?

This, then, is truly the $64 question, isn’t it? I would love to be able to provide you with a chart stating a P-51D gets this kind of light, an F-22 that kind of light, a Short Sunderland only in this light, but it just don’t work that way, sorry to say. What I can do is help you think about what kind of light tells what kind of story, giving you a starting point in your storytelling. It helps when you’re at an air show, for example, and you’ve just finished a great lunch in the shade and it’s hot out; the crowds are thinning and you feel like relaxing rather than shooting. If you know a particular light might help tell a story better, you have an idea if getting up from that shade and heading to the flight line is worth the effort. Here are photographs taken at different times of day of different aircraft to give you some ideas based solely on light. These are mere examples, ideas, or possibilities of what you might find in these conditions:

Predawn, No Light—FG-1D Corsair: It was still night, it was pouring rain, and the Corsair was on the ramp. The main light, if you could call it that, was from a lightning bolt. The glow on the ground was the bouncing rain being lit by a passing car. Even when there seems to be “no light,” there can be light with aviation, so we shoot. This photo screams Pacific Island WWII rain, but it was taken in Texas because of the light.

Predawn—Super Guppy: One aspect of predawn light you want to take advantage of is telling the story of the shape of an aircraft. The Super Guppy is the ultimate example of this idea, as it has one of the most unique shapes out there in an aircraft. The wraparound light at this time of day is key—a light you need to make the most of every time you have it.

Predawn, Breaking Bald Skies—SBD Dauntless: While the idea of dawn light is very photographically attractive, bald skies keep many from venturing out. This is a mistake! As you can see here, the bald skies are a huge reflector, lighting up the top flight surfaces and fuselage, making the subject pop from the dark background. Texture does pop, but it’s on the edge of melding in. You can’t ask more from a light source.

Predawn Glow—F-106 Delta Dart: There’s a slight moment in time before the sun pops over the horizon, but which has the full brightness of sunrise, when you want to seek a subject—fast! It has a unique quality of slight shadows and color that can make even the most menacing aircraft look elegant. Notice how you can see information on both sides of the Dart even though the light is coming in from the left? This light is fleeting, so if you’re not looking for it, it will blow right past you.

Dawn Breaking—Beech D18S: Probably the one light type you’ll see most often in my aviation photographs. This is because it has romance in every drop of light, making photography of any aircraft a special moment in time. It’s one light you can use as a backlight, sidelight, or front light and not go wrong. Be sure to note, though, that some details in shadows will disappear without reflected light.

Dawn Breaking, Bald Skies—P-40E Warhawk: While still a great light, your time to work with it will quite often be fleeting. As you can see here, it is just kissing the P-40E, so you can see detail in the highlights and shadows, something not possible a few minutes later when the sun is higher. The challenge is showing off the texture of the aircraft, which is difficult in this kind of light.

Bright Morning—Fairchild: When it comes to the act of flying, there is a reason clear skies bring a smile to a pilot. Once the sun is up and it looks like daytime, but before the sun hits that high noon mark, is a great time to use the light in your photograph to say “clear skies.” More texture will appear if you use the shadows that this light provides.

Dawn, Scattered Skies—Waco QCF: This is perhaps the best light you can ask for! There are lots of reasons, like lack of shadows, romance, and longevity of shooting time, with a million possible ways to pose the aircraft. The clouds are doing two things with the light: they are diffusing the sun and bouncing its light. This combination makes for the world’s largest softbox, which is what you want when photographing aircraft.

Midday, Bright—Stinson SR-9F: Can you shoot in high noon light? Of course you can, which is one of the benefits of shooting aviation. The shadow-rich light must be used to your advantage, like with this Stinson and its “gull wing” shape. Now, of course, if you have a great cloudy background, even better.

High Noon, Bald Skies—Taylor J-2: This is the classic high noon light that sends photographers to the lunch counter. You can still make very successful photographs in this light, though. You need to embrace shadows, both on the plane and those they make. Shadows permit us to see the cloth across the wing’s ribs and tail. It gives dimension to the fuselage. You must use care, but creatively there’s lots a photographer can do with high noon light.

High Noon, Puffies—AT-6 Texan: When you have these light conditions, fill your pockets with CF cards and shoot! This is great light for everything you can find as it wraps around your aircraft, bringing out detail and color. You can see into the shadows without blowing out the highlights. This is a good time to shoot folks—not only aircraft, but this light is great for portraits, as well.

High Noon, Scattered Skies—Hawker Hurricane Mk.XIIA: This kind of lighting condition can be contrasty, depending on the direction the light is falling on the subject. Some aircraft have a really recognizable silhouette, like the Hawker Hurricane, so shooting into strong sidelight this time of day can be very dramatic. At the same time, shooting side lit permits you to have more character in the clouds.

High Noon, Overcast—Starduster Too: When you have scattered clouds and blue sky, high noon is an aviation photographer’s best friend! With your subject in light, the underexposure you will need to hold highlight details makes that blue sky come to life. It’s even better when you have a slight diffusing of the light on the subject, as there is here.

Other Side of Noon—Porterfield CP-65: When the sun climbs into the sky after the morning magic, it becomes hard, contrasty light we can’t easily work in. When you have bald skies, look for those details and colors that are really pronounced. Any color against the bald, blue skies will pop. You can enhance this by using a split graduated neutral density filter, as done here to darken the top of the sky.

Sun Sinking, Overcast—Stinson OY-1 Sentinel: Here’s a classic example of using the non-contrasty nature of the light to bring out the detail. Other than possible blown-out highlights in the sky, you can point your camera in any direction that makes the aircraft look great. Small structural details won’t stand out as much, but overall texture still comes through.

Sun Sinking, Clouds—P-51D Mustang Boomer: If there is one time shooting can be iffy, it’s this time of day. That’s until you think that the shadows might bring a little drama to the photograph. Shadows will be inky black, so care in their inclusion is required. The light gradation on the fuselage can be very dramatic, like on this Mustang. It’s the sky that really makes this kind of light the best, though, as it gives the parked aircraft a place to go.

Sun Sinking, Bald Skies—T-28 Trojan: In the late afternoon, when the clouds or overcast skies roll in, we can use this low-contrast light to give the aircraft a little bit of character, perhaps even a bit of personality. But when there is no overhead diffusion, we must work the lit side of the aircraft to take in any possible texture and detail. This kind of light is great when you have a background you want to incorporate in the storytelling, as well.

Sun About Gone—B-25J Betty’s Dream: If there is one lighting time and condition I think is the best, this has to be it. It is also the rarest, I have come to find. The light is mellowed by both the low angle of the sun, and at the same time, the clouds. But then, the clouds bounce light around, filling in the contrast in some spots while adding it in others. You can do no wrong in these conditions!

Twilight—Howard 500: You can barely see the twilight on the horizon, but you can’t miss the “sky dragon” created by the passing plane during a long exposure. That long exposure permitted whatever light was present to light up the side of the Howard, bringing some life to it. Remember that our digital cameras can record even the smallest amount of light if we think to shoot.

Sun Gone, Bald Skies—Spitfire Mk IX: When you have a sunset that’s kinda wimpy, like in this example, there really isn’t much color to work with, so this might be a time to incorporate the sun itself. In this case, the moon worked well. When you do this, you normally sacrifice the shadow detail to maintain the highlight.

After Sunset—Cessna 750X+: Planes have lights, so even long after the sun has set, turn them on to see what happens. Few do it, so just for that reason alone, you can come up with a cool photo. But remember that photography is all about light—not just any old light, but light that tells a story!

Containing This Light

Like I mentioned earlier, there is no right or wrong exposure, just better or worse. I can’t emphasize that enough! The difference lies in a couple of things, the biggest one being you! Yes, there is a technically perfect exposure, but rarely does this match up with the right exposure in telling a visual story. You’re the storyteller; it’s your story, so speak with the voice of light! Since we are dealing with subjects who, on the surface, appear to have no heart or soul, we have to imply that and we do it with exposure.

As mentioned in Section 1, by simply underexposing our photographs, we can make vast changes in the photograph. When we underexpose, we start to bring out components in the light that are visually pleasing and manipulating. We saturate the colors, we darken shadows, and we trick the eye into seeing sharpness where it might not be. And, while this is a great place to start, it’s only the starting point. You’ve gotta take this and run! Lemme give you an example of what I’m talking about:

Here’s a gorgeous F4U-4 Corsair on the ramp at Reno; the sun has just hit the fuselage. This photo is really what started a lot for my aviation photography. It was my first very successful arse photo. It was my first bald sky static. It was the first that expressed the plane’s desire to break the bounds of gravity. And, to be completely honest, it was a Hail Mary shot because as I stood there, I didn’t see any photograph, but so wanted to make something from what I thought was nothing. In other words, it was pure luck. But, everything I’ve done since photographically with aircraft was born from this shoot, as I learned from its success.

The Corsair is side lit on the right side, and I had it parked so the T-hangars would bounce light into the left side. The rest of the plane is reflecting the slate blue, early morning sky. The prop was turned to get the symmetry you see. I used the tail as a guide and split the canopy visually with it to further the symmetry of the Corsair in the photo. Because of the background and the gull wing shape of the wings, I’m shooting at about waist height.

Exposure is really simple: –2/3 to make the blue fuselage and background hills darker, making the highlights along the sides of the fuselage pop and giving it shape. The shadow detail was not important, so it could be allowed to fade into darkness. The white on both ends of the wings brought out their shape without having to use exposure. The simple exposure came from the arrangement of all the elements, while also understanding that the arse was the subject.

On the next page, you’ll see the same F4U-4 Corsair with armament. I had it pulled out on the ramp, used the shadow of the hangar to darken the foreground, and waited until the first glimpse of light kissed the rockets to make the photograph. The timing of the photograph is about 55 minutes later in the morning—a tad later than the other image. For both images, the Corsair was parked on blacktop—both have a shadow in the foreground, although in this second image, the shadow is slightly harder. The Corsair is now front lit where the other image is side lit. The background is now a bald sky—yummy. While it’s the same Corsair, the time of day is not that much different. What is different in this photo is the subject.

The subject in the first image is the arse silhouette; the subject in the second image is the armament. While they both have light on them, the bright, bald sky pulls the mind’s eye up and away from them. To bring the mind’s eye down, gotta darken that sky while preserving the light on the armament. With the sun rising quickly over the hangar, there wasn’t much time, so to make the photograph, a five-image HDR exposure was made. This is where five images, each with a different exposure value, are taken and then assembled in the computer (today, with the D5, this would be a single click and the same results obtained using Adobe Camera Raw).

The sky and the bright background mountains compete too much with the subject, so they had to be neutralized and exposure was the best way to darken them and make them less important. Could you use a split graduated neutral density filter? The line from it would be obvious and, at some point, affect areas I didn’t want altered while not affecting areas I did want changed. With these two images, the exposure is not the same, even though it’s the same aircraft, and neither is the technically correct exposure. Everything was based on the subject and that included the story surrounding the subject. One exposure was a simple –2/3 and the other a complicated five-image HDR. Both exposures work because they were based on the subject!

Don’t Pigeonhole Anything!

Extreme ranges in light, from shadows to highlights, have plagued photographers since the very beginning. What our vision can see and what the camera can capture in this realm couldn’t be more different, and that’s what tends to cause photographic frustration. In the age of digital, this extreme range of light has evolved. It started with double-processing a RAW file to HDR to what we have today. I’ve done all of these processes as technology has evolved, and I’m very happy that it’s back to a simple, single click, getting us the closest from what we saw and felt to what we captured.

The whole process begins with the subject, the light, and the story you want to tell. Shot down in Southern California, where the smog makes for intense sunrises and sunsets, the color red in the background for a subject with a red cowling and lettering is a natural. To make this photo happen, though, we need to understand the range of light from the rising sun to the shadow side of the P-47D is extreme. This is a shot many would go to HDR for and that might not be a bad call. But, understanding the light, what our cameras can capture, and what the digital darkroom can bring out is really important. That’s because, as you can see, this is a one-click photo.

Why is this important? You’re at an air show and there are lots of aircraft to photograph, so time is short. What’s going to be photographically the quickest? HDR’s five tripod shots or a hand-held single click? You’re working the flight line, talking with a pilot, and you need to make a quick, clean shot while talking that you can later share with that pilot. Which technique is going to be more efficient? And, if you’re wanting to make a business out of this, which is faster in the digital darkroom to get to that pilot?

Just because the range of light is extreme doesn’t mean you can’t shoot or use a technique that might slow you down! In aviation photography, you can’t pigeonhole anything—not lens, technique, or especially light. You’ve got to always be trying something new while perfecting something old. You might be looking at this photo example and noticing that not only was the light brought to life in the digital darkroom, but so were a number of items removed. That thought might scare the bejiggers out of you, because it’s not in your skill base. It wasn’t in mine when I started either, but like everything else, it can be learned and I’m going to help you get far down that road. Be open minded to everything, and you’ll do great in aviation photography!

Romance in Aviation

This concept scares photographers far more than hanging out of a plane or finishing techniques in the digital darkroom. That’s because there is no button on our camera or slider in the digital darkroom that says: romance. It has got to come from within, and it’s not something anyone can teach you. Light is definitely one way to introduce the romance of aviation into your photograph. Be it soft or hard light, or anything in between, the way it plays on the subject and the way you expose for it will bring out the romance. Is light all it takes for romance? I wish, but it’s a building block, and with it we can employ other techniques to finish the romance. So, let’s explore light and exposure when it comes to romance a little further.

One of the first elements in the light that brings out romance is color. Take a look at the photo of the AZ Wing of the CAF’s B-17G Sentimental Journey, a pretty bad-ass WWII bomber. Sunrises and sunsets come in all sorts of colors, with some being more romantic than others. Oranges and reds are about as romantic as colors come, so with just the mere inclusion of them in the frame, as you see in the background rock, you’ve grabbed a couple of heartstrings. But, do those colors alone bring in the romance?

What helps, as well, is the angle of the B-17G; its gesture suggests just an evening flight and not a bombing run. Shooting down on it rather than looking up, which is the normal view folks see of the B-17G, also adds to this feeling and that’s important. Finally, the deep shadows on the landscape below signal the end of the day, a romantic time. All of this adds up to creating romance for a steely warrior.

And, when you compare that image to the one taken 35 minutes earlier, they simply don’t compare. Why? Well, first we don’t have that warm background; it has been replaced with blue. The color contrast and psychology of orange and silver compared to blue and silver is vast! In the first image, the fuselage is reflecting that warmth, and in the second, cool blue is reflecting off the fuselage. This furthers the color contrast between the two. The other difference between the two is gesture, and that is the next important element in romance.

Gesture, which can be thought of as attitude, is the position of the subject in relationship to the camera. In the sunset image, the B-17G has a gesture of being at rest, out for a Sunday drive as it were, whatever your imagination says. In the second image, the gesture is of one ready to take on the day, to head out and fulfill its missions. This gesture comes from a combination of angle of attack and subject size in the frame.

Angle of attack is a relationship of focal length vs. angle to the subject. Both of these photos were taken with the 24–70mm AF-S, with the first being taken further back at 70mm, and the other taken much closer at 24mm. The change in physical distance and focal length affects the shape of the B-17G in the frame, as well. All of this adds up to romance and drama, with lesser or greater amounts based on these factors, plus one more.

The one other ingredient in romance can’t be quantified—that’s mystery. Mystery leads the viewer of the image to ask a question of the photo that often doesn’t have an obvious answer. Shadow is a really easy way to create mystery when it is strategically placed. It doesn’t take much, but when the question is asked and the answer is not obvious, then the viewer of your photograph taps the imagination for an answer. With the other elements in the photograph, the viewer often comes up with a romantic answer to the mystery.

The last and most important matter of this last photographic example is that it was taken air-to-air! All the lessons in making this air-to-air photo successful, and one in wide use today, come from the lessons learned on the ground shooting statics! The time to learn these lessons is not when you’re in the air with a plane, but from the safety and lower expense of the ground. Directing a plane in the sky flying next to you comes from all the lessons you learn working that aircraft on the ground. And, the number one lesson to learn is light! Once you start having a handle on light with static aircraft, you will have the credentials, and the prints, to get you into the air. Never forget that once you start your air-to-air missions, statics are still everything. The need for great static shots never ends!

And, if there is one difficult thing about all of this, there is no graph or chart telling you that you’re doing it right or wrong. It all comes from a feeling deep inside. On the flip side, the viewer of the photograph has no clue any of this is going on. All they have is a feeling they like the photo and for more reasons than it’s just a picture of a plane. When you start bringing that out in your photography, you’re a long way down the road to success!