A horse doesn’t care how much you know until he knows how much you care. Put your hand on your horse, and your heart in your hand. — Pat Parelli
As much as I love urban photography, I also feel the pull of nature that drives me into the meadows and woodlands that surround Berlin.
A city is all ups and downs, literally. Buildings that rise up to the sky, block the sun, towers enshrouded by whiffs of cloud that seem to hang there all day.
Flat streets, Berlin has no hills. Roads that hark back to sensible planning, East-West, North-South, three lane escape routes that cut through houses and shopping centres like grey knives with colourful steel blades.
I took the single decker bus to Gross Ziethen, the first step into the countryside. A straight run out of the city, a quick change at Rudow bus depot, and twenty minutes later you find yourself standing in a field. It’s quiet, there are horses, the occasional dog walker, and it’s very flat.
Photographers love variety, but even when things seem ordinary, flat, and way too green, it piques the brain cells and challenges the senses to wake up and see something worth looking at.
If it’s worth a look, then it probably has the qualities that make cameras go click. I remind myself that each time I take a shot, I won’t know if it’s good or not till I sit down at home and look at it more slowly.
The only shot I’ll delete when out and about is when I accidentally clicked the button while tripping over somebody’s chihuahua in the street.
Some shots, when seen on the LCD screen, look like nothing at first, but later when they appear on the computer screen they can make you gasp. So glad, that you took that shot.
I love horses. I’ve ridden a few, and I’ve spent time hanging around with horses just to find out what they are feeling, how they act without a saddle, what they want. They make good company, don’t talk much, and have an infectious laugh.
Below, is a cropped shot of a passing rider. Mobile phone shoved into her jeans, sitting well enough, but why on earth she allows her horse to eat lunch while they are out riding, I don’t know.
The curved body of the horse reveals its powerful muscle structure.
Horses have a beautifully complex muscle structure. They are fleeing animals, if under threat, they’ll gallop away, jump fences and hedges. But if a fight with a predator is on, they have developed the ability to stand in the ring and go for a knock-out fight with powerful hooves.
Horses are heavy animals, so evolution has given them strong legs, and big shoulder blades, which run down the sides of the body; there are no collar bones, clavicles. If there were, the horses own weight would break the collar bone, when it lands on the front feet. Nature, it’s amazing.
The mare protects the herd, the stallion is always separate, standing on the outskirts, watching for predators. He can send a powerful neigh across long distances to warn the herd that something’s up in Horseville, and they should prepare to flee.
If you get the chance to take photos of a horse, watch the line of their back, how it forms various long light reflections. Like a mountain range. The sun always catching, and glinting, small changes that create compositions. And that powerful head which turns, looks up, then down, then around to see behind. The area around the rump, and the point where the rear leg passes the stomach is particularly interesting to catch all types of beautiful highlights and shadows.
Before I left the city, I walked along the Kreuzberg Kanal. In summer, the swans lol about on the warm water. Gently drift, they catch passing fish like it’s an open buffet.
In autumn, the water cools down, and the swan’s behaviour changes, to what seems to me, to keep warm, splashing about, sitting under bridges in rows, and generally trying to adjust to the drop in temperature.
Once I arrived in Gross Ziethen and stood alone in a vast green landscape, I felt lost. It’s the, “too much green stuff”, that overwhelms me. I don’t know what to do with it.
But, as soon as the real art photographer’s brain kicks in, I know that I must look a little closer at everything. That way, the green becomes texture, and my eyes adjust their depth of field which allows me to see things inside a frame of thought.
So I raise my camera, and look at things frame by frame. That’s when the landscape comes alive.
Tire tracks across fields are interesting. Signs of human activity, machines and people tilling the land. Below, is a quick post process of one of the tire track shots.
I have a few that I need to spend time with, looking at the way the light hits the highest points in the mud, it creates a pattern of light and darkness on the flat surface.
I thought I went to photograph the broad landscapes, autumn trees, yellowing leaves, soon to turn reddish brown. But, I’d chosen an area where there are a lot of evergreen trees. I have nothing against green, or trees, but I feel bored when everything is one colour.
After walking, stopping, inspecting, and shooting all types of close up, and broader motifs, I came across another riding stable.
Horses again. This time, they were gathered for the evening meal. The sun splashed down on the straw, and the horses congregated to form circular compositions that pleaded for a photo.
Below, a long shot across the paddock. With a 105 mm lens, I still couldn’t get close enough. The shot is nice, and shows a meaningful composition, but the distance between lens and subjects disallows the certain “punch” that being close gives a shot.
The shot below is a simple composition.
When I stop and look at perspectives like this, my mind rolls with ideas about how, surely, I can make something powerful out of it. That’s the photographer’s challenge.
It doesn’t matter how cool your camera is, or how big your sensor is, the challenge is to see the mundane with new eyes. To bring out all the qualities that make “looking” meaningful, and to capture the moment at the precise and decisive moment that you see it.
I stood before this landscape, and I was sure there was “something there”. It was a deeper feeling, as if it reminded me of something from long ago, something very important. I did my best, and when I took the shot I felt as if I was trying to keep my balance on a one-wheeled cycle. I nearly fell off, but I believe, I didn’t.
Four horses below, I love this shot. It begs for colour.
Each horse different in size and shape, colours flashing in the evening sunshine, and the horse second from right, wearing his mantel after a ride. A touch of blue that compliments the sky.
And, there isn’t too much of the green stuff to overwhelm the whole idea.
Thanks for reading, I’d love to hear your comments, and if I see your name, I’ll be sure to seek you out and read your work.
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