Click for Larger Image - Frozen Branch, Cook County, MinnesotaA short time ago, before the snow had begun to recede from the shoreline of Superior, before the ice would make its last stand in the gorges of the Temperance, Cascade and the Kadunce, I found myself searching for photographs at Split Rock Lighthouse State Park. As is typical for me, there was no agenda or preconceived idea of what exactly I should be looking for. I would know when I found it. After a short time of searching, I noticed some bubbles embedded in ice along the Lake Superior shoreline. They immediately struck me as visually interesting, and I proceeded to set up my field camera and photograph them. The resulting image can be viewed in my previous blog posting.
Yet, the most memorable part of the evening proved to have little to do with locating an uncelebrated wonder. After finalizing my composition and fine tuning my camera position, I came out from under the dark cloth and noticed that a handful of photographers were gathered a ways down the shoreline from where I was shooting. They stood right next to one another, their cameras set up on tripods at a standing height, pointing towards the name sake of the park. Thinking little of it, I proceeded to calculate the necessary bellows extension compensation and then make two exposures of my composition. The sun was growing close to the horizon. After finishing the shot, I looked back at the other photographers. To my amazement, the crowd had significantly grown. More clearly were on their way. It was then I realized, much to my own surprise, that sunset would bring with it the rise of a full moon – a full moon at precisely the right location to make the most common version of the Split Rock Lighthouse shot.
At that moment, a wave of conflicting emotion came over me. I was simultaneously amused by the carnival and angry at the blatant lack of creativity. Yet perhaps most notably, I was simply astonished. As a Midwesterner, I have the luxury (and yes, it is indeed a luxury) of not having to typically work in iconic locations. So this was in all honesty, my first “icon experience” if you will. To distracted to continue searching for additional photographs, I sat down on the ice and watched as more and more photographers came, set up their tripod next in line and loaded the same focal length lens as their neighbor. My mind was officially blown.
It took me some time to come to grips with what I had saw that evening. While it was tempting (and ultimately foolish) to pass some sort of judgment against those individuals who had photographed the cliché scene that evening, I realized that my reaction said a great deal more about me and what I value as a photographer than anything else. I'm sure they were good folks, simply getting out with their cameras. There will always be “icons” and there will always be photographers there to establish such a namesake. So be it. As for me, I will continue to value discovery over predictability. Compositional strength over subject. Nuance over drama. Craftsmanship over ease. Creative risk over known response. Personal experience over public success. As for icons, I thankfully don't have to worry about photographing them, because I know that there will always be someone else to do it for me.