Rachid Zaouia At Work © Roger Overall 2011

This evening, Fota Island Resort’s executive pastry chef, Rachid Zaouia, will launch his recipe book Simply Pastry. I’ve written before that this excites me greatly. He asked me to do the photography.

It was one of the best commissions I’ve had. Top Five, easily. Rachid is a tremendous pastry chef, passionate about what he does and appreciative of photography. Working with him was amazing. Not least because I got to eat every single dessert we photographed.

One of my resolutions for 2012 is to produce as much useful content as I can across my blogs. Instead of waiting until 1st January, let me start now by telling you how the photographs in Rachid’s book were lit. (If you’re not a photographer, or find off-camera flash a snooze, this post is about to lose all appeal for you – maybe today’s Dilbert will be consolation).

Two small lights

The entire book was photographed in the hotel’s small fine dining restaurant using two 550EX Canon flashes, triggered remotely by a generic brand of radio transmitter that I can’t identify because I’ve lost the instructions.

I’m not very educated when it comes to off-camera lighting. In fact, I pretty much rely on a single two-flash set up that I can adapt as the situation requires.

I set my camera to manual and my shutter speed to 1/160th. Whatever aperture knocks out all the ambient lighting is where I start. If I’m shooting food, f/5.6 or f/8.0 is nice. Sometimes I’ll go wider, sometimes I’ll stop down a bit further.

I try to keep my flashes, which I also set to manual, at a quarter power or less. That means the batteries will go for ages and recycling times stay zippy.

The ace up any photographer’s sleeve these days is ISO. On a Canon 5DII, you can go as high as ISO800 and still get a very clean image file to work with. That capability is what allows me to keep the flash output relatively low, even at smaller apertures.

One of the flashes controls the ambient light – ie, it sets the base tone of the image. If I want a bright image, it pushes out a lot of light. If I want a darker one, it is more restrained – possibly as much as two or three stops below ‘correct exposure’. Typically, I’ll bounce its light off a ceiling (provided it’s white) or I’ll put a translucent cone on it so it provides even, onmi-directional light.

The second flash is what gives the photograph its character. This light can be modified (snoot, grid, umbrella, gel, etc) and moved about to create any number of moods.

Samples from the book

Flash A was set to give a fairly bright burst of ambient light. Flash B was positioned behind the bowl and the apples, and set to provide a powerful pulse of directional light, giving a sense of morning © Roger Overall 2011

The lighting set up for this photograph was almost exactly the same as above. The only addition was that of some silver foil on the near side of the slice of cheesecake to fill in the shadow © Roger Overall 2011

Same again. Except this time the flash controlling the ambient is switched off and the light behind the dessert had a snoot added to concentrate its output on a narrow part of the photograph © Roger Overall 2011

A much trickier shot. The last one of the day and taken after 12 hours of shooting and under a bit of pressure. We only had one go at this because we had a single Baked Alaska to work with. So I fudged it. I'll be honest. This is two photographs brought together. The reason for that is that flash would have knocked out the flames and made them invisible if it had been misdirected even slightly. If we'd had a couple of desserts to play with, I would have put a tight grid spot on one and directed the light at the specific area I wanted lit. Two or three goes would have done it. So while it is possible to get this in camera, I bottled it on the day because of the single dessert we had. © Roger Overall 2011

Lapland is a dim place this time of year. It is even dimmer when it’s overcast. And that dimness only lasts for six hours or so. Otherwise it is dark.

Inside, things are only marginally better. Lights are mostly of the low-power tungsten variety. They are intended to glow rather than illuminate.

For an ambient light photographer, that makes things tricky.

I was in a world of 1/20th at f/1.8.

And that at ISO3200 or 6400.

If you’re a photographer, you’ll know that those are numbers to make you go unstable at the knees. If you’re not a photographer, curl up in a ball on the floor and roll around for ten minutes whimpering, “Mummy, Mummy, Mummy.” That’ll give you an idea of the horror those numbers represent.

The angels on my shoulder

A decade ago, I would have had to bite the bullet and photograph the wedding using flash.

I hate flash for documentary work. It produces photographs that bear no resemblance to what things looked like.

This was a dark wedding. The photographs had to show that.

Digital camera technology has progressed dramatically, though. While I can’t say the three cameras I had available to me are entirely comfortable at ISO3200, they did their job. In one instance, beyond what I felt was possible. That’s a post for another day. For now, it is enough to say that as yesterday’s murkiness enveloped me I was in good company.

Here is a quick selection of files that I worked on last night while backing up all of the files on to two separate drives. They are rough cuts and there is an imbalance in the coverage of the day. I’ll post a more complete set when I get back to Ireland. For now, these will give you a flavour of the day.

There weren

The groom and his son getting their ties on © Roger Overall 2011

The two stars of the day. That

Talk about practical. A torch mounted in a lipstick applicator to help overcome the murkiness in the cabin © Roger Overall 2011

When this happened, my mind just went,

Natural grace and poise. I couldn

When luck meets the prepared, special things happen. I

Flash would have ruined this © Roger Overall 2011

The final act of the day was the release of about 30 of these lanterns © Roger Overall 2011

This is David Cahill, who owns Spa Lighting and Living in Farranfore, Co. Kerry. Taken as part of a commercial assignment, it struck me as a fun idea to ask my assistant at the time to swing a light bulb around his head. It's a competent PR shot, but not representative of who I am and what I'm doing now. (c) Roger Overall 2009

Non-photographers would be astonished at the amount of hard disk space photography consumes. It’s an insatiable beast.

I don’t want to bore you, but I do need to throw some numbers out there. My own office system has at its core a very modest 4 terabyte (TB) of primary disc space, which in turn is mirrored onto a 5 TB back-up device. (As an aside, each of these is internally arranged in a RAID configuration as an additional mechanism to offset an individual disc failure.)

That sounds like a lot of space. It isn’t, really. According to the International System of Units, a terabyte is 1,000 gigabytes, which is in turn 1,000 megabytes. My main camera produces a 20MB file per photograph (give or take a megabyte – seriously, at this level of space consumption, who cares?). Given the volume of work that I produce (close to 1,000 frames for a wedding, for instance, and close to 10,000 for a long-term corporate documentary project), a terabyte doesn’t go as far as it used to. Don’t get me started on the space video can occupy.

All of which means that I have to do some occasional housekeeping on the office computer system to keep it nimble and effective by shifting completed assignments on to external drives/optical discs/the cloud/any combination thereof. It depends on the project.

I’m in the middle of a big clear out at the moment and I’m faced with an interesting conundrum. What work do I select for long-term archiving? My wedding work, for instance, has little promotional or commercial value going forward. And do I really want to archive seven years’ worth of weddings? Not especially. Similarly, I have commercial work that is of a standard, but has no bearing on where I am as a photographer now, nor on where I want to go. For the first time in my career, I have to make a choice about which photographs are relevant and deserve space in the archive. (I also have to devise a long-term archiving strategy, but that’s a separate matter.)

So, Dave Cahill’s portrait, above, would be out. This one, which, believe it or not was shot indoors in January on the kitchen floor of a catering company client of mine, is also out:

Yes, this really was taken indoors at night on a kitchen floor in Twickenham. The giveaway is the highlight in the balloon created by a light being bounced off the ceiling for fill. A second, gelled light was placed behind the boy to give a rim light effect, kinda late afternoon in the summer. The grass was added later in post-production. (c) Roger Overall 2008

I have to say, though, it’s been fun looking at my older work and seeing how much I’ve changed as a photographer.

Before you know it, several months have passed. As a for instance, the photographs below are from June, which in dog time was just over a fortnight ago. They were taken at a local agricultural show in which pure Aberdeen Angus breeder John Tait was competing.

The amount of preparation that goes into showing cattle on the day is remarkable. Here John is drying off cattle, having applied a spray that improves the animal's coat (see below) (c) Roger Overall 2011

This sprays on and is then blow-dried out to give an enhanced coat (c) Roger Overall 2011

(c) Roger Overall 2011

(c) Roger Overall 2011

That’s what today’s photograph is all about. It’s a scene-setter. Nothing dramatic, but it will in the years to come help the couple recall the odd weather of the day.

Summer in Ireland (c) Roger Overall 2011

What drew me in initially was the reflection. The bride and some friends were posing for a group shot, which on its own makes for an interesting image. One of the group is looking up at the bridesmaid on the stairs (the bride’s sister, in fact), which transforms her from a mere spectator; she’s now connected to the group. The piano player is looking straight ahead. You’d almost think that he’s looking at the reflection of the bride. But of course he can’t be. The reflection only works as it is from my position, much lower down. For the photograph, it works though and ties everything together.

(c) Roger Overall 2011

This year, my three back-to-back weddings are a Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. I had a verbal booking for the Saturday as well, but that fell through. In a way, I’m relieved. Four weddings in a row is probably one too many.

For the next three days, I’ll post a quick photography from each day.

Yesterday, I was in Adare. I’ve chosen this photograph because of the light, the pattern and the symmetry, and because it proves that photographers and videographers can work together.

To take the photograph, I stood behind filmmaker Maurice O’Carroll of Velvetine Studios, who had taken the low, crouched position. Maurice and I have worked together quite a few times, and we always get into a rhythm quickly on the weddings we cover together. Honestly, it’s a bit like a ballet, the way we move around each other – though I did almost run him over today in my car. He filmed the whole thing. Who knows, he may post the footage one day? Because Maurice was low he wasn’t blocking anyone’s view while he filmed. I took a quick shot from the high position and moved away so the congregation could see.

(c) Roger Overall 2011

I’m taking a break from this blog for the rest of the week to concentrate on no fewer than three others. See you back here next week.

Disused engineering shed, Arles, 2011 - (c) Roger Overall 2011

“Professional photography is dead.” More about that one on this blog in the coming weeks, as you can imagine.

Window Light, Engineering Sheds, Arles, 2011 - (c) Roger Overall 2011

“The problem with being in the shallow end is that you don’t know whether you can swim.”

Artelier Mecanique 1, Engineering Sheds, Arles, 2011 - (c) Roger Overall 2011

“You’ll meet a lot more interesting people in the deep end.”

Artelier Mecanique 2, Engineering Sheds, Arles, 2011 - (c) Roger Overall 2011

“If you buy a camera, you are a photographer. If you buy a piano, you own a piano.”

Book Exhibition, Arles, 2011 - (c) Roger Overall 2011

“Been there, done that, this is the T-shirt.” (On a T-shirt)

Stairs, Arles, 2011 - (c) Roger Overall 2011

“Finding the photographer who has the skills to cover an event is not the difficulty. Finding a photographer who can deliver a certain kind of look, a certain kind of feel, that offers both analysis and interpretation can offer the greater challenge.” (New York Times Magazine exhibit)

Abbey, Arles, 2011 - (c) Roger Overall 2011

“Do something, because then you are doing something, which is better than doing nothing.”

Luminary visitors and players are all well and good. But without the beating heart of the golf club, the greenkeepers and the golf pros, they wouldn’t come. Without them, the course wouldn’t look as spectacular as it does. Nor would anyone learn to be good enough to play a double-digit round on it.

A golf lesson in progress at Fota Island Resort's golf academy. (c) Roger Overall 2011

(c) Roger Overall 2011

(c) Roger Overall 2011

The carpark next to the greenkeeper's shed is located between two fairways, and especially exposed to errant shots from one. A huge net protects the cars.(c) Roger Overall 2011

(c) Roger Overall 2011

The resort's head golf pro finds time to hone his skills on the putting green. (c) Roger Overall 2011

The marketing manager set me the challenge of photographing a red squirrel. (c) Roger Overall 2011

(c) Roger Overall 2011

Inch House black and white puddings. (c) Roger Overall 2011

My daughter has been described by her art teacher at school as “a ticket”. I think that means she’s a character. Or, more exactly, a disobedient charmer.

Yesterday she charmed her way into a free batch of Inch House black pudding while out doing the weekly shop with Anne, my wife. Nora Egan, who produces terrific black and white puddings from her mother’s recipe, had traveled all the way down from Co. Tipperary to cook up and hand out samples at our local supermarket. She got talking to Anne and they spent a good bit of time chatting about the wholesomeness of the puddings. Meanwhile, with no one paying much heed to the freshly-fried sample batch, my daughter helped herself. To all of it.

Anne was mortified. Nora, though, took it all in her stride. She was about to pack up anyway, she said. By the way, she had a small block of uncooked pudding left over that she would have to throw out. Did Anne want to take it away with her?

I don’t know Nora. I’ve never met her. I like the sound of her, though. And I have to say, her puddings are delicious. Not only did Anne arrive back with the left over black pudding sample, she had bought a pack of white pudding too – feeling guilty that our daughter’s appetite had brought a premature end to the sampling session.

It’s probably just as well that she decided to do the grocery shopping late in the afternoon.