The spectacular images captured by the Artemis II astronauts during their historic moon-bound voyage remind me of a vital lesson about the importance of changing perspective.
From the vantage point of Planet Earth, the moon reveals itself each night, occasionally flaunting its full bright glory. Sometimes, it prioritizes shyness by masquerading as a slim crescent or hiding behind some fluffy clouds.
I can capture some beautiful images — such as this near-full moon portrait snapped through a 500mm telephoto lens mounted to my Nikon mirrorless — but placing that same camera atop my specialized 24-foot aluminum tripod or launching my DJI drone to 400 feet would do little to change my perspective.
Angles are rather limited when standing 238,900 miles away from my subject.
But what a treat to view our moon and home planet from some new perspectives this week, as the Artemis II’s astrophotographers captured breathtaking shots of the moon’s elusive dark side, a solar eclipse and a colorful “Earthset” depicting a foreground of craters framed by a vivid yet partially revealed globe.
Just four lucky humans got to see these phenomena first-hand, but technology let us all share in the joy and wonder.
The key takeaway from these images apples to photography, storytelling or life in general: When things seem like a dirge of tiresome “same ol’, same ol’s,” change your perspective.
I first learned this lesson back in 1994 as a young Tampa Tribune journalist penning a “Know Your Tampa” feature on a defunct World War II airfield that’s now home to Busch Gardens, residences and businesses. This was back in the day when daily newspapers sent a reporter AND a photographer to cover a story, and I was lucky to be joined on this assignment by brilliant Tribune photographer Phil Sheffield.
We arrived at the site to meet with former Henderson Field commander Ansley Watson. My task was to interview Watson about the history of the site and its closure; Phil’s was to take an environmental portrait of the Army Air Corps veteran showing some remains of the airfield.
We walked around and spotted a series of concrete slabs encroached by grass that once served as the runway for P-51 fighters and B-17 and B-25 bombers.
As I chatted with Watson, Phil dashed off to his vehicle and returned with a large stepladder, opting to shoot Henderson from the perspective of about 10 feet from the ground. His shot artfully captured the former commander in the foreground with the concrete slabs revealing just enough angle to communicate that it was a former runway. It was a terrific photo that should have ran much larger.
I later asked Phil about his perspective choice on that image. He shared that everyone knows to move around to get a different angle, i.e. changing the X-axis and Y-axis. But not everyone flirts with changing the Z-axis to get the best shot.
That tip has stuck with me throughout my career.
I have been a lifelong avid photographer, but when I joined the Associated Press in 2004 in a state that relied on freelance photo stringers instead of staffers, I began taking my own photos to illustrate many of my stories.
I’ve climbed ladders, scaled rocks, held cameras above my head and squatted from the ground to seek out uncommon perspectives. I’ve jumped into single-engine Cessnas to snap aerial photos of flooded towns and interstate blizzard pileups — shots that would have been unattainable by car.
When the National Parks Service hired a German company to pressure-wash the faces of Mount Rushmore, I got to climb the monument to view South Dakota’s beautiful Black Hills from the seldom-seen perspectives of both behind and atop the famous presidents’ skulls. I was accompanied by a talented freelance photographer on that assignment, but I brought along my own camera to collect some personal memories.
A changed perspective can result in a great photo, but it offers us so much more. Each invigorating experience can rekindle creative thinking, a crucial ingredient of both textual and visual storytelling.
Feature photo credit: NASA
