"It Depends"

When you’re learning something new, there’s nothing more annoying than asking a question and getting a non-answer.

You know the kind.

“What do you want for dinner?”

“I don’t know, what do YOU want for dinner?”

Rinse. Repeat.

“It depends” is definitely that kind of non-answer. Worse even, because it kind of sounds like someone just slammed the door. With teenage angst. And eye-rolls.

But in the art world, and especially in photography, it is often the right answer.

Why? Because most of the time you think you’re asking a technical question and expecting a technical answer. But really, you’re asking an artistic question that requires an artistic answer.

And who can answer that besides you, the artist?

All those choices…but which one should I use???

As a student of photography, I wish I had learned to ask a different question earlier.

I learned all about the exposure triangle; f/stops, shutter speed and ISO. I knew how it all worked together, and technically it made sense.

But out in the field, actually taking pictures, suddenly the exposure triangle was woefully inadequate.

HOW DO I KNOW WHICH F/STOP TO USE?!????

I don’t know! I mean, choosing one from an origami fortune teller thingy would be just as effective. “Pink. Five. Okay, f/5.6 it is.” I didn’t know which f/stop to use so I tried them all. I didn’t know what f/2.8 or f/4 or f/8 looks like in this situation.

HOW DO I KNOW WHICH SHUTTER SPEED I NEED?

No, I’m not shouting at you. That’s my brain, shouting at me. It’s scrambling, trying to find an answer when I was asking the wrong question.

The right question is WHY DO I WANT TO PHOTOGRAPH THIS?

Aha. Now we’re getting somewhere. Most photographs start with an eye-catching moment, not from profound ideas or grand social statements. We noticed details we hadn’t seen before. We see how the light is falling on something just so. And we bring the camera up to our eye, trying to capture the thing that caught our eye.

But when I ask what f/stop or shutter speed I should use, I’m asking a technical question that actually deserves an artistic answer.

The answer isn’t in the camera.

Learning to use a camera is learning a new language, a new technology. It’s logic; if this aperture, then that shutter speed. It’s new vocabulary for a new language. But learning the vocabulary doesn’t mean you can speak the language. To speak the language, you first have to ask “Why?” Once you know the why, then you ask “How?”

Learning to speak with a camera requires a different space. It’s the space between what drew your attention and pressing the shutter. It’s that tiny pause before you press the shutter. The half-second where you either make an artistic choice or just hope for the best. It’s in this tiny space where you ask yourself WHY you want to take that picture. What caught your attention? Was it the light? The texture? The colors? Something made you bring your camera up to your eye. And what happens next is your artistic choice. Just like the painter who chooses a certain brush for a certain look, you choose an aperture or a shutter speed for a certain look.

Do you want to show us the quirky cuteness of a tilted-head pigeon against a blurred background of pigeons? Or do you want to show all the cute and quirky pigeons in the plaza, strutting and cooing and grunting like they own the place, waiting for people to drop their lunch?

Both choices are true. Both choices are correct. Neither is wrong, unless you somehow make pigeons look regal and dignified. Still, you must choose because each choice shows us something different.

Same pigeons, different stories. One quirky pigeon…

…or all the pigeons? Two different artistic choices.

This is why, when someone asks me what settings they should use, I answer, “It depends.”

And I’m certain most people hate that answer.

Because there are no recipes for photography. No two scenes are exactly the same, even seconds apart. The wind blew. Someone walked by. A cloud covered the sun. There are no recipes because nothing stays the same. You can’t consult The Pocket Guide to Perfect Pigeon Pictures, flip to the entry for “Pigeons at the Manhattan Bridge Arch on a sunny day? Use f/11 and 1/500^th second”. If only it were that simple!

My husband recently googled “when to use red filters in black and white photography” and came back exasperated. The answer was “It depends”! Even a filter choice comes down to “What do you want to show?” To be fair, I’m not entirely sure he was exasperated by the answer, the internet, or both.

When I answer settings questions with “It depends” I know it isn’t a standalone answer. It is always followed by me asking more questions. Not camera questions because “It depends” and the follow up questions are opening the door to a different space. It’s the space where your creative choices emerge. This is the creative pause point, where I'll ask you what you want to do. I will try to guide you into that space where you ask yourself, what matters to me in this scene? What do I want my viewers to see? to feel?"

“It depends” isn’t the end of the conversation. It’s the beginning of a different one. It’s where we switch gears and actually talk about intent. What you’re aiming for. What you want the photo to be, or to do.

Photography is an art form that allows and rewards experimentation. Not sure what setting to choose? Try this one, then that one, and eventually you’ll find something that works, that excites you, that makes you say, “wow!”

Welcome to the messy middle – the experimental space where you learn to speak with your camera. It’s where you wade through a lot of ‘meh’ until you create a photo that makes you all warm and fuzzy and think, “I did that.” Over time it gets less messy, but it never goes away.

But here’s the thing about learning to create art with a complex tool. You have to learn the camera first and that is a technical data dump. Everything connects to everything else. No wonder we want formulas! We would LOVE simple answers to complex relationships that can only be learned through play. Trial and error. Things that can’t be learned in a classroom or from a book.

No one teaches a semester long class on paintbrush mechanics because brushes are simple tools. But since cameras are complex, it is easy to mistake mastering the tool for mastering the art. Mastering the exposure triangle means you’re now ready to tackle the world with your tool. But knowing what settings to choose on your camera? That’s where the art of photography comes from.

I know it is uncomfortable. All of those technical possibilities and no clear “right” answer. But this uncomfortable creative space is the point. It is the space where you choose between what you could do and what you want to do.

In my classroom, there were 10 students with 10 different cameras and 10 different sets of lenses. One assignment yielded 10 different outcomes. No two paths were the same, and no single setting could work for all.

So, the answer to their questions?

It depends.

Really and truly, it depends.

It’s the only true answer.

So, when someone asks me what settings to use and I answer, “It depends,” it’s not really a non-answer. I’m asking them to think about what caught their eye. And it doesn’t have to be complicated. It doesn’t have to be deep and profound. It can be as simple as “I just want to show the beauty of this one single flower.”

“It depends” is about learning that the good stuff happens when we search for our own answers. “It depends” is an invitation to be creative. To use our tool and take control of our own art.

I chose a slow shutter speed because I loved the juxtaposition between measured time and the urgency of people rushing from here to there.

So yeah, it depends.

Annoying? Yes.

True? Absolutely.

But really, it just means that you get to decide. Or don’t decide and try them all. That’s the beauty of photography. You can’t get pigeon-holed. (Yep, I said it.)

When someone asks you for camera settings advice, how do you reply? Do you give them the settings, or do you ask them what they're trying to do?