After dinner yesterday, we spent several hours chasing the northern lights over the dark backdrop of the Alaskan night sky. The main auroral storm from last weeks massive series of solar flares has dwindled and passed.

But the lull in major solar activity doesn’t mean one should become complacent.

Sub-storms are unpredictable. The aurora forecast for the evening showed moderate activity, 3-4 on the Kp scale (out of 9). Nevertheless, we set out in the hopes of intermittent bursts of higher activity.

We were not disappointed.

Aurora Borealis March 16, 2012 – Images by David Taylor

Over the 3 hours we stood under the shimmering lights, there were several spikes in the auroral activity – producing vibrant and pulsating pillars. Bands of color danced across the sky and we were even treated to a short, but intense, coronal display.

With spring fast approaching and the ever lengthening daylight hours, our opportunity for aurora photography is dwindling as well. Every chance we find ourselves under ‘the Greatest Show Above the Earth’ is a blessing.

Stay tuned.

Perhaps one of the most incredible ways to see (and photograph) Alaska, is from the air.

Aerial photography brings a whole new set of challenges to landscape photography. Ditch the tripod, say goodbye to long exposures and polarizer filters (for the most part…), and get ready to shoot landscapes at f8 or faster.

Working as an Alaskan photography guide and shooting projects around this incredible state, I’ve spent more than (what most people jealously would call) my ‘fair share’ of time doing aerial photography. Over the years, I’ve accumulated a short list that I think might be helpful for photographers ‘forced’ to participate in aerial photography (in Alaska or anywhere else, for that matter).

1. If you’re shooting with the doors or windows on, be sure to remove any polarizing filters, they will create a horrendous sheen (and I don’t mean the ‘Tiger Blood/Winning!” kind…) when looking through the plexi. If you are shooting with the ‘doors off’ (the helicopter-based shoots I do always have the doors off), I use a polarizer at times with good effect.
2. Use a fast shutter speed. I typically use Av (Aperture Priority Mode) on my Canon cameras, and set the aperture nearly wide open – perhaps f4-f8, depending on the brightness of the scene. This guarantees I’ll be letting more light in (than at f/16 or other small apertures), so I get the fast shutter speed I need). This helps with the motion of the landscape as you fly and the vibration inherent in all aircraft.
3. Use I.S. or V.R. lenses if available.
4. Don’t brace your lens or body against the inside of the aircraft, if at all possible. This will directly translate more vibration to you and your camera.
5. Wear dark clothing (preferably black) – no, I’m not ‘goth’ – the windows of the aircraft that you are shooting through will reflect back whatever you are wearing into the lens, so avoid bright/light colors.
6. If shooting from a helicopter, remember to be careful when shooting with a wide angle lens, the rotor blades can sneak into photographs, even if you can’t see them while flying.
7. Use high ISO’s (640+) to help get higher shutter speeds. Don’t be afraid of noise. Be afraid of blurry shots. There are no ‘blur reduction’ filters or PS plugins…
8. Remember to take a break from the viewfinder. Two reasons; you need to take a look around and get some mental images for your memory banks & looking through the viewfinder for long periods of time can induce motion sickness, even to those with the stoutest of stomachs.
9. Plan ahead. Now what the heck do I mean by that? Well, imagine you have to shoot landscapes from a car, and every section of the route is entirely new to you – you can’t slow down, stop, and rarely can you turn around for another pass. Now, imagine you’re doing the same thing, but in the air and traveling 3 times as fast. So, even though you don’t know exactly what is around the corner, always keep scanning the route ahead. If you are just noticing things when they come along side you, you’re too late & too slow.
10. Use a fast wide angle zoom. I like the flexibility that my Canon 24-105 offers. It’s not so wide that I’m constantly worrying about getting a wing tip or strut in the shot, and it’s got a little reach to get those really cool abstracts that have (likely) never been photographed before. Remember, this isn’t Yosemite & you can’t put your tripod feet in Ansel’s marks.

Into the air, Junior Camera Man…

Sorry. Couldn’t resist…

Stay tuned!

A small group of photographers standing in a field of wild lupine flowers, near Sheridan Glacier and Cordova, Alaska. (Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North LLC). Click image to view larger, purchase print or license photo.

Professionalism tip of the day: When a photographer/fan takes the time to compliment you on a photo and asks you a question (on twitter, a forum, on Facebook, etc.) about what gear you used for it, take the opportunity to thank them for the compliment and answer their question respectfully. Telling them to read the EXIF data or to read all of the inane babble that preceded it only makes you look more like an arrogant blow- hard, and less like a professional photographer.

As professional photographers/guides/educators it is OUR job to make the art more inviting, not alienate people for asking questions. I asked a LOT of questions when I got started in photography – heck, I STILL ask a TON of questions every single day. If more of the ‘iconic’ photographers that I looked up to responded to my questions with “You should have read all of my articles”, I likely would have developed a fear for asking further questions (which would have limited my development as an artist) or turned me off to the medium all together.

It seems that the internet has been The Greatest Thing & The Worst Thing ever for public discourse. On one hand, you are given full permission to discuss (ad nauseum in many cases) every topic known to man with anyone willing to participate in the conversation. On the other hand, the considerable ambiguity of an internet pen name, or the implied relative ’distance’ of the people involved in the conversation allows people to check their respect and dignity at the chat room door.

“We have a fence between us (the internet and all of its wonderful ‘series of tubes’), therefore I can say whatever the hell pleases me with little concern for recourse or impact”.

This has spilled over to everyday life, unleashing the ‘Inner Asshole’ and ‘Barely Contained Bitch’ that Sigmund Freud spoke so elegantly and frequently of… or, perhaps that was ‘Ego’…

The same person that coined the phrases “mental illness”, “neurosis”, “ego” and that studied the part of the brain that could not be controlled (the unconscious), would love the interactions of the internet. If for no other reason that to watch people’s ‘unconscious brain’ swell with pride as they let loose their super-ego on mere mortals less educated than they or lower on the artistic food chain.

No words to describe it. Poetry! They should’ve sent a poet.

Alaska has been kind to me. I’ve visited locations most photographers dream of & seen things most will never witness. But Alaska is always full of surprises.

I spent the past 4 days at a location that I’ve been dreaming of visiting for several years.

The sun sets over the Bering Sea as waves crash against St. George Island's rugged shoreline, in Alaska's Pribilof Islands. (Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North LLC). Click image to view larger, purchase print or license photo.

St. George Island sits just 45 miles to the east of the Continental Shelf. In this region, everything about the Earth’s crust is precipitous. If you were able to stand atop the ‘cliffs’ above the Continental Shelf, you’d already be in nearly 600 feet of water. But vanishing into the blackness below would be a drop off that would swallow the Grand Canyon whole. Twice. The sea floor drops over 11,000 feet, nearly straight down.

St. George Island rises out of the ocean to form a varied plateau. The island’s volcanic history is evident along every section of coastline. Basalt columns line and comprise the staggering sea cliffs that encompass the island, geometric patterns reminiscent of The Giant’s Causeway, in Ireland. The cliffs rise dramatically from the crashing Bering Sea, some are over 1,000 feet tall. Inland, the treeless landscape has a distinctly arctic feel, rolling plains and tussocks, interspersed with small ponds. At this time of year, you can’t walk 5 steps without being confronted with vast fields of wildflowers, most notably are the arctic lupine.

But the big draw, for me, was the island’s wildlife.

Arctic Fox Pup (Vulpes lagopus), St. George Island, in the Pribilof Islands, Alaska. (David Taylor). Click image to view larger, purchase print or license photo.

Vast amounts of birds call this area home, between 2-4 million in all. I’m not a great birder, but in our all-too- short time on the island, we spotted several species that I’ve wanted to photograph for quite some time. Not only did we spot them, but they were in numbers. And at very close proximity. Horned and Tufted Puffins, Common Murres, Least Auklets, Murrelets, Red-legged & Black-legged Kittiwakes, Parakeet Auklets and Cormorants. It was utterly incredible.

A pair of parakeet auklets sitting on the sea cliffs of St. George Island, in Alaska's Pribilof Island Group. (David Taylor). Click image to view larger, purchase print or license photo.

We (Scott Slone – of Alaska HDTV & my collaborator on several projects) also had several great encounters with the island’s resident Arctic Fox population. One of the fox families we photographed had 8 very cute pups! Mom was quite busy making multiple runs a day to bring back enough food to sustain the large family. We watched her return to the den with a kittiwake, and saw her carrying a dead puffin another time. Good job, mom!

The people of St. George are very friendly, always offering to help or to tip us to yet another incredible location or situation.

One thing is certain about this location, I can’t adequately articulate the feelings we were overtaken with while on St. George Island. I don’t think it has fully set in yet, how lucky we both were to be able to witness a place so spectacular. I hope my photographs will do a better job at filling in the gaps my words can’t occupy.

In closing, I would like to thank the warm-hearted people of St. George Island. Thank you for welcoming us onto your beautiful island with such grace and helping make our trip such an absolute success. Also, a huge thank you to Pen Air, for providing our transportation to and from the island – the service was great and everyone on staff was fantastic to work with, from beginning to end. Finally, a big thank you to Tanaq Corporation, for all of the ‘on-island’ logistical help, lodging and rental vehicle.

As always, it is a pleasure to travel and work with Scott Slone of Alaska HDTV.

This is an archive post from June, 2010. Since the complete overhaul of the website, I decided to repost it here. I hope you enjoy.

Sometimes, words can’t possibly do a place justice.

Sometimes, pictures fall short.

Sometimes, a location hits you so hard that it literally changes your outlook.

It sets your mind reeling, sways your body, and makes your heart long to return – even before you’ve left.

For me, one of those places is Cordova, Alaska.

Photographer standing in field of wild lupine, near the Sheridan Glacier & Cordova, Alaska. (Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North LLC). Click image to view larger, purchase print or license photo.

The old saying is so appropriate. “Life is not about how many breaths you take, but how many moments take your breath away.”

I just returned from leading a small group photo tour to Cordova, on the eastern edge of Prince William Sound. Cordova is one of my favorite places on the planet – off the beaten path, yet logistically possible. It holds great variety: ocean, coastline, rainforest, mountains, glaciers, immense river delta. For photographers – it truly is the undiscovered country. I’m already planning a longer tour for next year – shoot me an email if you are interested in traveling to this incredible land – you won’t regret it.

An abstract section of an ice cave in Sheridan Glacier, near the Copper River Highway and Cordova, Alaska. (Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North LLC). Click image to view larger, purchase print or license photo.

Over the next couple of posts, I’ll be sharing some images from this recent tour. I may not say much, because I can’t adequately describe this place – perhaps that speaks loudest. For me, the images will always fall short – that’s what keeps me going & gives me good reason to return. My mind is still reeling, my body still swaying (some of that is due to our time on the water shooting sea otters), and my heart longs to return.

This first post is dedicated to the Sheridan Glacier. I’m still trying to catch my breath.

An abstract section of an ice cave in Spencer Glacier, near the Copper River Highway and Cordova, Alaska. (Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North LLC). Click image to view larger, purchase print or license photo.

This is an archive post from June, 2010. Since the complete overhaul of the website, I decided to repost it here. I hope you enjoy.

Yeah. I said it. I love dirt.

Patterns in silt near the Matanuska Glacier, Alaska. (Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North LLC). Click image to view larger, purchase print or license photo.

Rather, I love silt. Glacial silt to be specific. Glacial silt is velvety, the granules are so small that it is more like a powder, or talc. A few weekends ago, Jena and I went out to the Matanuska Glacier. Watching someone who has never seen a glacier before (other than in photographs and videos) standing atop one is a a great experience.

Something changes in a person when they witness something so gigantic beneath their feet. Something that has seen so much history. Something that starts as a light, ephemeral snow flake. It is hard to conceive that that same snow flake can slice through a mountain, carve valleys, and transform a landscape completely over many millennia. The things that glacier has witnessed; ice ages, devastating earthquakes, volcanoes erupting then becoming dormant and repeating the cycle. Forests growing from grasslands newly seeded, then plowed over by the advancing ice sheet. Ancient people. Mammoth, sabre toothed tigers, and gazelles on a continent that would become known as North America. We are but a flash in a pan compared to the enduring legacy of the glacier.

Patterns in silt near the Matanuska Glacier, Alaska. (Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North LLC). Click image to view larger, purchase print or license photo.

If we are lucky, we may walk this land for 100 years. Many glaciers are several thousands of years old. Sometimes, they are much older. As the snow falls in the mountains, it is compressed over time by later flurries and blizzards. When there is enough weight, the snow is compressed and becomes ice. The weight of the ice is pulled down hill. If there is enough weight and enough ice, it will level/carve/grind through anything in its way.

As the ice sheet flows down over rock and earth, mountains are ground down to large boulders, rocks, pebbles, then into silt. These pieces are carried along on top of and within the ice strata. Finally, when the ice reaches the end of its journey, the silt is flushed away from melt water and deposited for miles in front of the glacier. Sometimes, hundreds of miles from its source.

Patterns in silt near the Matanuska Glacier, Alaska. (Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North LLC). Click image to view larger, purchase print or license photo.

The patterns glacial silt take on can be mesmerizing; swirls, strata, etchings, dunes and channels. The variety is endless, as are the colors and textures. It’s a playground for intimate landscape photographs – not quite macros, and not landscapes. These are the remnants of ancient mountain ranges, from lands that were never witnessed by human eyes.

Standing atop the Matanuska Glacier, I reached down and cradled a small fistful of damp silt in my right hand. In that moment, I held a mountain and stood atop the ruins of countless others.

A female photographer stands near a small foot bridge at the terminus of Matanuska Glacier on a sunny day, in Alaska. (Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North LLC). Click image to view larger, purchase print or license photo.

Jena and I were headed back from photographing Denali (and the Alaska Range) from the South Overlook on the Park’s Highway, this past Monday night. As we neared Willow, Alaska, we turned our heads to look back at where the sun would be setting. It was slightly above the mountain range, but was already showing a beautiful orange hue. The cloud formations looked very promising. I knew there were several lakes within just a few miles that would offer a good view back towards the Alaskan Range. So this became our mission. The very first lake we passed is the one in this photograph – Kashwitna Lake.

Talk about luck!

The sun sets behind the Alaska Range (Mount Foraker, Mount Hunter, Mount McKinley/Denali). The pink, purple and blue light show is reflected in the calm waters of Kashwitna Lake, near Willow, Alaska. (Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North LLC). Click image to view larger, purchase print or license photo.

This is a 6-image pano. Each one shot vertically to increase resolution across the panorama. I used a graduated neutral density filter (2-stop soft edge Singh-Ray) to balance the exposure of the sky with the reflection. This is a pretty straight forward exposure – I set the exposure off the dramatic pink sky, and let the darker areas fall to silhouettes. I didn’t have much room to roam, otherwise I would have worked my way to the left to get the reflection of Denali revealed a bit more. But I didn’t have my waders that day – the silt in the lake bottom is pretty ‘sucky’ stuff so, so I may have gotten pretty stuck had I tried it.
This was one of those incredible moments to witness, let alone photograph. And the best part was… not being there alone. As the clouds shifted color and deepened to a pure crimson, the slack-jawed look on Jena’s face was classic. Until she reminded me that I had the same look.

Great evening. Nuf’ said.