Local vs. Overall Contrast Control
One of the greatest difficulties encountered in printing is the common yet perplexing situation in which overall contrast is high but local contrast is low. For example, suppose you have a landscape with a great disparity between the darkness of the land and the brightness of the sky. Yet when you look only at the land, there is relatively low contrast; and when you look at the sky, there is low contrast between the sky and the clouds.
The problem is apparent. If you lower the contrast to accommodate the vast difference between the sky and the ground, you end up with a photograph that is easier to print but lacks punch. Both the sky and the ground are lifeless. On the other hand, if you raise the contrast to make both the ground and the sky more attractive, then the disparity between them is enormous, making it almost impossible to print.
What do you do in a situation like this? My recommendation is that virtually 100 percent of the time you’re better off if you base your printing on the local contrasts. If you work with the local contrasts in order to make each of them visually interesting, you have the option of dodging the darker areas and/or burning the brighter areas to bring the two closer to one another, and therefore bring the entire print into better overall balance.
If the situation is as simple as the example in Figure 10-17 (i.e., if the horizon is a horizontal, straight line) then it’s easy to burn the sky after exposing the ground for the correct amount of time. Of course, with variable contrast papers you can even adjust the degree of contrast for the burn in the sky. In fact, you can expose the ground to one level of contrast while dodging the sky entirely, then burn the sky at a completely different level of contrast—adjusting the exposure given to each so as to meld the two parts into one smooth, believable, finished exposure.
But what if the dark and light portions of the print are not as easily delineated as in an image with a dark foreground, a straight horizon line, and a bright sky? It may turn out that some complicated dodging and burning, perhaps using the burning tools detailed above, can solve the problem. However, if the array of darks and lights is so complicated that it’s effectively like a checkerboard, then masking may be the best approach (Figure 10-9). This, in fact, is one of the chief reasons for masking in the first place: an array of light and dark areas that becomes too complicated to effectively burn and dodge with only two hands.
Another method would be to print any or all of the local areas a bit too dark, then work carefully to lighten those areas by reducing (bleaching)—thereby increasing the local contrast as bleaching does so well.
This image breaks all the rules. The sky and ground are divided in half. The edge of the road splits the lower portion in half. I wanted to create a stark, ominous image of this little-traveled road leading toward a powerful incoming storm. The sky was brighter than the ground, but burning the sky (easily done at the horizon line) was a simple fix to bring the two portions into tonal equality, imparting a foreboding feel to the composition.
Figure 10-17. The Empty Road
This is an enormous landscape, but the photograph has never been printed larger than 5″ × 7″. The reason is that the dark areas of uninteresting sagebrush on either side of the road would simply be too dominant and oppressive in a bigger print. Yet those areas look wonderful in a small print. As an aside, the road, which may appear to be dodged to make it glow, is actually burned extensively. Sunlight on the asphalt turned it astonishingly bright.
Figure 10-18. Road to Monument Valley
However you approach a photograph that has the disparity of high overall contrast but low local contrast, I strongly recommend doing whatever is needed to increase the local contrast as the prime consideration.
Scale
Once I’ve made a print that pleases me in 8″ × 10″, I decide what size my final display print will be. The 8″ × 10″ print has become increasingly important over the years, as I can scan a print that size, make a TIFF or JPEG of it, and send it out to a gallery, museum, magazine, individual, etc., for viewing, for potential purchase or publication, or for a variety of other uses, so it now goes well beyond the idea of just learning how to print the image. For display purposes, I usually have a good idea about the size of the final print as I stand behind the camera to make my exposure, since I feel it’s a necessary part of visualizing the final image. Sometimes, though, I alter that initial previsualization. Size is an important consideration to me because the scale of a print materially imparts an emotional response to the image. For this reason I print each of my exhibition quality photographs in one size only. The same negative printed in 8″ × 10″ and 16″ × 20″ has a decidedly different character in each size. In general, I print only the size that I feel best compliments the mood I want to convey, and I don’t display an image in any other size. On occasion I find an image that looks good in more than one size, but that is a rare print, indeed! Beyond that, I make even larger prints from selected 16″ × 20″ images, going to 20″ × 24″, 24″ × 30″, and even 30″ × 40″.
There are several determining factors in regard to size. Technical considerations are, of course, preeminent. If the print appears sharp as an 8″ × 10″ but not as an 11″ × 14″ (and if sharpness is important, as it usually is in my images), then 8″ × 10″ will be the maximum size. On the other hand, if everything is technically perfect, tonal considerations are next in importance. Sometimes an area of soft tonal modulations holds up well at 8″ × 10″ but becomes too diffuse or boring at 16″ × 20″. Other times, a dominant area of deep tones or light tones can become visually oppressive if enlarged too much.
Sheer size is another factor. The scale of the various compositional elements has great emotional impact. A sweeping compositional line may be impressive in 16″ × 20″ but merely pleasant in 8″ × 10″ or smaller. Large prints tend to have greater impact, so if I’m looking for impact I gravitate toward the larger sizes. If I want a quieter image, I tend toward the smaller sizes. Of course there are exceptions to this general rule, but most often it holds true for me.
Subject matter used to be very important to me in determining print size (a vast landscape had to be big; a tiny flower had to be small), but it plays little role anymore. The size of the image I print is based on the characteristics of the photograph alone, not on the subject (Figure 10-18).
Finally, there is a subjective feel that nudges me larger or smaller as I see fit. I would be hard pressed to say anything more than, “It just feels right in that size!” A musical analogy explains it best for me: some pieces of classical music are written for a string quartet and some for a symphony orchestra, and they should not be reversed. I wouldn’t want to hear Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony played by a string quartet. It wouldn’t work! The scale of orchestration is similar to the scale of a photograph; it should be appropriate for the image.