Calling The Shot

Every five years of so I find myself in a pool hall, loosing in a game of 8-Ball to one of my friends.  I always lose because (besides just not being very good at pool) my friends play with “no slop” allowed, meaning they require the shooter to call the pocket in which they intend to sink the next ball. That way the effect of luck is completely eliminated from the game. For them, these rules make the game more fun. For me they mean I really have to study my options and plan my shot if I’m even to sink one in the whole game. My natural style is to rely try unusual shots, for the fun of it, and rely on luck that a ball will land in some pocket, even if it’s not the one I expected.

It dawned on me recently that I shoot photos much the same way I play pool. I try approaching my subject from a different angle or perspective, or with dramatic lighting or color, rather than composing the “simple” or “normal” shot.  And I tend to rely on the fact that if I take lots of these “unusual” shots, one or two of them will likely look good (or “land in the pocket”, to continue the metaphor). It’s definitely one way to play the game, but I’m beginning to think there’s some value to “calling the shot” that I would like to explore.

I was looking at a collection of some of my best shots the other day and noticed that, though some of them are pretty “good”, (as measured by the criteria of having an interesting subject and being technically sufficient), most of them were actually the lucky result of an experiment, or simply a snapshot that was framed well enough to “work”.

Unlike the large- and medium-format photographers, who must spend considerable time looking at their subject on the ground glass before they release the shutter, a digital SLR photographer can just snap away, relying more on the odds more than on a well conceived intent. With a few notable exceptions, I have tended not to think about what I wished to convey about my subject before taking the photo. The result: a series of “nice”, but unrelated photos that express very little about me or the subject. They are graphic (strong colors, strong shadows or strong lines) but not particularly revealing. They are not, as my only real photo instructor Paul Sparks used to say, “well seen”.

So, in my pool game and in my photography, I’m going to start calling the shot.

I expect this will lead to less “lucky” shots at first, but in the long run, will help me develop a much better vision.

2 responses to “Calling The Shot

  1. Long time no chat :). Hope all is going well.

    I must say out of all of the metaphors and ideas that I’ve been cramming into my head regarding photography lately, this article that you have written really speaks to the heart of my problem creating remarkable (vs. Average) photographs. Perhaps it’s my similar experience playing pool, although I only do it about every 10 years or so…

    It’s a good subject and a point very well made. Now if I can learn to call the shot (Ansel would have called it “previsualization”) perhaps I can start getting somewhere.

  2. I thoroughly enjoyed this entry, which was very thought provoking. I do not plan my photos sufficiently and get a good shot when I get lucky, as opposed to having a planned-ahead goal and striving for it. I also play pool the same way, thought the analogy only works if in pool a 2 gigabyte card would let you take 800 shots and you get to pick the best 5. You end up with some very good shots, but fewer GREAT ones…

    Your entry also has applications beyond pool and photography – it leapt to my mind when I watched my younger son playing in a chess tournament. He moved the pieces around and reacted well and did not make mistakes, but he did not have a PLAN. Good writing has universality, and your entry has that. Thanks for sharing.

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