Painting With Light: Techniques and Materials

by Lorran Meares

When one "paints" the landscape with light, you don't have to record the subject realistically.  Experiencing a site "beneath the cloak of darkness" conjurs powerful connections with Place, invoking emotions which the photographer may choose to interpret subjectively.

With this technique the shutter remains open while the image-maker works in front of the camera, lighting and manipulating the subject as desired. The person or persons making the image can even be part of the photograph if they are illuminated by the hand-held light source. Focus can be adjusted to place near and distant objects in or out of focus. The environment can be made to appear realistic, altered, or otherwise enhanced.

 

Materials Needed

A 4x5 field camera with Polaroid 545 film holder. A 35mm or medium format camera with tungsten balanced film.

A steady tripod and locking cable release

Polaroid Type 59 for 4x5 color, (Polaroid 55PN for black & white), Polaroid 669 (or 665 for B+W) for medium format.

Any source of continuous light that can be hand held and that has an on-off switch, such as a 12 volt RV light in a reflector, flashlight, penlight, or battery-powered camping light (Q-Beam Max-Million)

An electronic flash (optional) may be used in addition to the continuous light source to freeze a moving subject at some point during the exposure

A completely or nearly dark outdoor working environment

 

Procedure

1. Set up the camera(s) about an hour before dark, securing everything for potential weather or wind conditions.

2. Compose and focus your image. If you wish, you can refocus the camera in the interval between "painting" any two objects. You may want both a close and a distant object, in focus, or perhaps one object in focus while another object next to it remains out of focus.

3. Navigate the terrain and plan the way you will move the light source during the exposure. (see step 6 and Variations, below).

4. Exposure is affected by several factors: the brightness of the light, its distance from the subject, the lens aperture, and the length of time light falls on the subject. You can calculate the exposure by shining the hot-spot of your light on the hemisphere of a handheld incident meter.  Set your handheld meter's shutter speed at 1-second and read the f-stop. Now work backwards.  Put your camera's f-stop at the suggested setting, then illuminate each part of the scene for 1-second.  You can extrapolate from there if you choose.

 Or simply make a trial exposure using Polaroid film following steps 5, 6, and 7 below, giving each area about five seconds of illumination at f-8 for a film speed of ISO 100. If the resulting Polaroid is too light, decrease the amount of time or the intensity of the illumination; if it is too dark, increase the amount of time or the intensity. Colored filters will increase your exposure time, as will darker subjects such as trees and plant foliage.

5. Open the shutter just before it gets dark if you wish to record the sky.

6. While the sky is burning-in, commence light-painting your subject. In most cases, the light should face away from the camera so that the bulb is not visible in the image and no light spills onto the lens. Keep the light in constant motion, sweeping it slowly and smoothly over the object being lit. The film will record only objects that you illuminate, and the light can be switched on or off as desired. You may wish to record repeated images of the same object by turning off the light, moving the object, and repainting it wherever you want it to be seen.

7 Close the shutter and process your Polaroid image.  Don't forget to warm the film under your coat if the night air is cool.

8. Evaluate the photograph. Is the exposure about right overall? Should you give less or more exposure to specific parts of the subject? Has the light cast any shadows that should be eliminated? Feel free to experiment. You may begin with a pre-conceived image, then find that you want to alter it when you see the picture.

 

Moving beyond Documentation

 Creative Variations:

1.                     Use colored filters over the lens or over the light source to covey your personal expression of geomancy or "spiritual energy.

2.                     Blur or freeze objects in motion. Illuminating a moving object during the exposure will cause it to blur and, if blurred enough, will show illuminated objects that are behind it. A burst of light from a flash combined with the continuous light will create a blurred image combined with a sharp one.

 

Working with Polaroid:

Ansel Adams and Edward Weston taught us the immaculately detailed f-64 world of "pre-visualization."  Jerry Uelsmann invoked archetypal alchemy in the darkroom with his "post-visualization" image-blending methods.

For me the "in-process creativity" made possible by the instant technology of Polaroid materials has allowed me to venture quite literally into another visual space experience, the space in front of the camera, and with my stereo imagery the perceptual space of three dimensions.

Many of my earlier black and white images were dream inspired and connected deeply with intimate personal space and the "power of place."  Oftentimes I worked with co-creative individuals who took part in those dreams by sharing their own image-impregnations.

On numerous occasions my cultural and sacred sites preservation work involved sharing the in-process instant image with tribal spiritual leaders who offer interpretive feedback.  Polaroid prints are frequently left as thankful gifts.

I've been working intimately with Polaroid materials for over thirty years and find it creatively indispensable.  I cannot imagine working without it.

 

Painting With Light

The Process:

Since I began using the light-drawing/painting technique with a liquid-filled chemical light stick in the early ’70s, I have become increasingly enamored of the possibilities of selective illumination from a continuous hand-held source.  Although the photographic marketplace abounds with high tech light-painting tools, I haven’t been tempted by the glitzy ads for fiber-optic wonder-wands and pulsed xenon light-guns costing thousands of dollars.

In these places of power, I believe the least invasive approach is the most appropriate.  Further, I want to be surprised by the image!  No one can truly predict how the magical night sky will record, or how leaves shuddering in the breeze will appear on the final transparency.  Through years of light painting experience, I have learned to distinguish the subtle variations in intensities of light and seldom need to confirm my exposure settings with a meter.  Polaroid proofs assist and keep me on target.  Welcoming serendipity, I’m here to learn — not only from the place, but also from the in-process creativity!

 

Lighting:

My collection of battery-powered continuous tungsten sources for landscape work ranges from small alkaline-powered Teknas and Mini-Mags to a modestly powerful Q-Beam for close, carefully directed illumination.  The incomparable Collins Dynamics “Magnum ” is essential for distant work.  Its 1.5-million candlepower tightly focused beam enables me to illuminate tall trees, cavernous spaces, bouldered cliffs, massive earthen mounds and far-away features.

Technology has lightened up considerably the world of power sources, and most often I rely on rechargeable"gel cells" — enough so that I can count on several consecutive nights of remote shooting before running out.  Occasionally, I rely on a backbreaking 60 pound deep cycle marine battery for extensive or prolonged all-night power.  For each light source, I cut a collection of heat resistant Rosco theatrical gels.  Charlotte (my wife and assistant) and I often load our backpacks with 60-70 lbs. of cameras, lights, batteries and tripods and trek miles across terrain many people would find challenging to negotiate empty-handed.

Set-up for a light painting begins hours in advance of nightfall.  When the sun arcs past the horizon, the intensity of light stirs a kind of acute awareness.  The twilight first exposure may be the most important as encroaching dusk accentuates amazing cloud formations and unusual light modulations.

 

Handmade Cameras

Works of Art to Create Art:

My hand-made cameras are conspicuously low-tech and most don’t even have a shutter. I carefully remove the lens caps and exposure begins.  Sometimes, there is less than ten minutes between a blazing orange sunset to violet darkness, the time when I can safely begin light-painting.  As I walk about in front of the camera, all my exposure experience comes to bear.  Slowly, I paint everything I want the film to see.  Occasionally the horizon offers a welcome flood of pale moonlight.  More often than not, however, my body must memorize every step to negotiate a return path along treacherous terrain.

A single exposure may take an hour, or an entire night.  Even when my Polaroid “proof” proclaims success, I make additional exposures that will be very different from the first. For moon-glow, star trails, and dynamic sky definition, I oftentimes leave the shutters open all night until that first glow of dawn.  When to stop is as important as when to start.

During the early ’70s my light-painting experiments involved conventional formats. In 1974, I broadened this technique to include stereoscopic photography to capture the spatially “felt” quality of place.  I sought to represent, in 3-D fashion, the evanescent nature of the “altered landscape” complete with the illusion of mists, vapors, and luminous fogbanks which I created by casting light on diaphanous materials.

To my first home-made, side-by-side lens stereo camera — crafted of black walnut, and red peccary-leather bag bellows — I attached twin Polaroid film packs for what I considered essential, instant image review.  The recoverable black and white 665 Positive/Negative films is unsurpassed for making sumptuous selenium toned gelatin silver-prints.

Several years later, I fashioned two identical wooden box cameras from junk-piled rain forest mahogany palettes.  Critically aligned side-by-side on a rack-and-pinion slide-bar, the cameras’ variable spacing allowed me to create the maximum stereo effect.  The barrel-mounted shutterless Zeiss 38mm Biogons (Hasselblad Superwide-C) were rescued from a wasteful Nixon-era military surplus bin.  I have often wondered — as I uncap these discards in the blackness of night — what horrible and magnificent sites have these precision bomb-camera optics seen?  

For nearly every light-painting session, I mount as many as six hand-made cameras in tree-like fashion on three different tripods.  My primary stereo box-camera configuration creates two 6 x 9 format images.  Adjacent to this camera I attach a handmade mahogany camera which incorporates a Polaroid film back to evaluate each exposure.  For tungsten-balanced large format transparencies. my  4" x 5" Gowland Superwide incorporates a Schneider 58mm f/5.6 Super Angulon XL. Another custom superwide camera, equipped with a 47mm f/8 Schneider Super Angulon, produces a  6 x 9 image on roll film.  Finally, a cherry wood Wista with a 65mm f/8 Schneider Super Angulon produces an additional
4" x 5" transparency from perhaps a different point of view.

Backups in several formats are vital.  I learned a very expensive lesson entrusting my film to “professional” labs that weren’t.  Now I have each lab process a portion of the negatives and transparencies for inspection before allowing them to process the rest.

Together, light-painting and stereo lend themselves well to in-camera special effects.  Almost exclusively, the sacred places work of the first ten years was black and white.  In galleries, I now show large Cibachromes displayed as 3-D stereo pairs in a “virtual-reality” like installation.

 

Tripods :

With multiple cameras on a rail, tripods are continuously put to the test.  Desert winds can reach sandstorm proportions within minutes after sundown.  I prefer only the most sturdy for long night exposures and leave the lightweights for day use.  Bombproof, the Benbo “Giant” is infinitely positionable, and easily withstands a coastal tidal surge swirling about its tubular steel legs.  A wooden Reyes supports the stereo camera.  With its legs spread wide, I can drop the camera to ground level in a cave or other height-restricted site.  The Gowland is mounted on an expedition-experienced Leitz.  Tripods, cameras, lights, batteries, cables, film, food, and sometimes tent and sleeping bags add up to Charlotte and I hoofing weighty, tendon-stretching packs!

After a few years of experimentation, I modified my pack to be comfortable over great distances.  The oversize Tenba “Huge,” padded, compartmentalized bag is designed roomy enough to hold an 8" x 10" camera plus several smaller formats.  Using add-on quick-release clasps, I’ve anchored it securely to a custom-fitting aluminum frame.  At 105 pounds, Charlotte refuses to negotiate trails in anything other than her thoroughly broken-in Dana “Stillwater.”

Together, light-painting and stereo lend themselves well to in-camera special effects.  Almost exclusively, the sacred places work of the first ten years was black and white.  In galleries, I now show large Cibachromes displayed as 3-D stereo pairs in a “virtual-reality” like installation .