On Shadows

And what I love about them.

Happy Tuesday! We’re taking a walk into my other life today and talking about one of my obsession/passions of the summer: shadow watching. Welcome to photography nerd-dom! On Friday, paid subscribers are getting a recipe for homemade pop-tarts. Next Tuesday, we’re talking fridge staples and giving you an opportunity to let me know what’s in your fridge right this minute! The thrills never stop!

I am obsessed with shadows. It’s a consequence of seeing the world through a camera’s viewfinder, I’m sure, but I can’t seem to stop myself from staring at the spaces where light meets dark. Shadows are always changing, and a million different things can affect the way they look. They’re fleeting, mysterious, edgy. I cannot stop searching for them everywhere I go.

When I find some that catch my eye, I snap a picture, then I study the shadow. What is casting it? How rough is it around the edges (we call this harsh or hard light in the biz)? How much fill does it have? Why is it there and how is it changing? Most importantly, can I replicate it at home?

Right now, over on Instagram, I’m in the midst of sharing a series of photographs I made this summer that heavily feature shadows. Since I started ideating the series in early summer, I’ve spent hours and hours walking around the neighborhood, searching for the right shadows to replicate in my work. If you live in Evanston and you’ve seen a woman wandering around, furtively snapping photos of what appears to be nothing, that’s either me or someone I’d get along with really well.

I justify it to myself as research: in my job, I’m in charge of making a photo come to life, and some of the tools I reach for most often are light and its counterparts. When I started out in photography, I didn’t understand how important having shadows was to making a photograph look real. Even the slightest shadow can speak volumes about where you are: is it later in the day or early in the morning? Are you in a room, the sunlight shining in, or a field with nothing between you and the clouds above you? Are there organic, softer shadows made from leaves floating on branches high above? Or are the shadows sharp, geometric lines that tell of buildings and bridges?

Neighborhood shadows are prime at golden hour.

Shadows help tell the story. I mean, just look at the shadows on this old window. It practically morphs into an Impressionist painting or an exposition shot in a movie about a princess who’s been hidden away from the world. Without the shadows, we wouldn’t feel that depth (literally). Please tell me I’m not the only one having a moment over the way leaves have hidden the sunlight from these spots.

My favorite thing about shadows, though, are that those little pools of darkness make us appreciate what is in the light. Sometimes, they even feel like they’re working to highlight something by casting it into sharp relief with its surroundings. Look at this patch of wild flowers, lit up and on fire in the late evening sun just thanks to the shadow that surrounds it.

Next time you’re out walking, look for the shadows. Stop and notice them. Watch how they change (or don’t!) with the wind or as the clouds move across the sky. You are now a shadow watcher, which sounds a bit more epic than it is. Epic or not, though, we love to stop and stare at nature. Now, go shadow watch!

Thanks for reading, as always. I really love being able to use this space to nerd out about elements of photography that get me thinking differently. See you here on Friday for pop-tarts!