Tips and tricks for macro photography
In this informal guide I want to share a few tips on shooting macro. I decided that it doesn't seem to make sense to create something with a traditional beginning and an end, introduction/body/conclusion, since this is not a dead-end medium we're in -- you can leave any comments at the end of the page.
Before you begin reading, you might want to browse the macro gallery on this site, just to get an idea of what I will be talking about.
Part 1. Introductory Examples
Now let's get straight to it. First, we'll take a look at some dos and don'ts. Example of what doesn't work #1. Here, the flash obliterated all of the texture of the orange. Also, what's visible borders on sliminess, something to watch out for in macro. Slimy things look disgusting by definition. The background is overlit, and we see little orange hairs; little curly hairs is another thing we don't want to see in a close-up.
Example of what works #1 (see full-size). Once the eye gets past the leaf-and-droplets cliché, we actually see a scene emerge: the iron railing reflected in each water drop, the weird inversion patterns on the wooden surface, the veins in the leaf, magnified in each drop. The background is dark and has little detail, which makes the subject stand out. Having a low-detail background is generally a good thing. What I would improve in this shot if I were to do it over is cropping (it's a little too tight), ISO setting (I would use 100 instead of 400), and finally compression mode (RAW instead of JPEG to reduce the noise).
Now, let's move on to an example of what doesn't work #2: The following picture is a great example of what not to do in a macro photograph. In fact, it is like macro pornography -- macro for macro's sake, with no mystery or artistism. The animal is only partially shown. It looks slimy, partially from the flash, partially because it is slimy. Unsurprisingly, slimy subjects don't look good when magnified. Then, there is the dirt. Dirt, or little random bits of anything, except perhaps water, never look good up close. It only makes sense to magnify things with structure or pattern. Coming back to the picture, there is too much crap in the foreground; the salamander's leg blends with its body; the interesting pattern on its neck is also lost because of the flash.
Now, an example of what works #2 (see the full-size picture): This is a photograph of a little centipede called scutigerida. Please take a moment to examine the full-resolution shot. We'll be looking at how exactly it was created later in the text. If you've seen these creatures live, they are really foul to look at. This picture shows the insect clearly, in-focus, with no background clutter. All thirty limbs are in the frame; the insect doesn't look distressed; in fact, it looks interested in the camera, almost like a pet. The slime factor has been avoided. All sorts of interesting things are visible in the original (download 2400x1900 here)-- the translucency, little rings and spikes on the legs, the facial expression.
In these examples, we've seen some basic things that work and don't work in macro. Background clutter doesn't look good, overexposure doesn't look good; truncated limbs in insects should be avoided if possible. Washed-out background with an in-focus subject is preferable. This can only be achieved if the subject is far enough from the background, so shooting against the ground is difficult. In the next section, I'll talk a little bit about the long-term approach to shooting, and in the final section we'll examine the details of making one particular shot (the one above).
Part 2: The long-term approach
What's a good photograph? I propose the following very simple definition, which should be fair to all photographers out there: a good photograph is something you can't beat by making a better photograph in the time span of several months. That's why you often notice good photographs when browsing old archives -- you just haven't been able to make anything better, that's why the old one seems so good.
I like this working definition, because it is nonjudgmental with respect to taste. All it requires is an honest approach. What turns me off is when somebody publishes a picture that clearly didn't take any effort to make. Why even bother? If you like macro, you probably agree with me, since for macro, good technique is a prerequisite.
Let's take a real-life example: water striders. Below is something you might get if you took your shoes off and walked into a stream of water.
What's wrong with this shot? By now, having analyzed a few pictures, we can probably see immediately. The way the water refracts the light is ugly. We can barely see the most interesting thing about water striders: the way they bend water. Only one water strider is in focus, and even then it's so small we can't see anything. Finally, the composition is terrible.
Let's try to get a better shot.
It's a strider; it's almost in focus; but it doesn't look cool, and the colors are ugly. Gotta keep trying.
Here I had to get rid of the flash, which was responsible for that ugly water look. Usually, the flash is indispensable for close-ups, so it was hard to convince myself to try without it. The camera here is lowered so it almost touches the water. It is still mounted on a tripod. We can see some of the water-bending, which is good, but the whole subject is too dark, which is no good. One more try.
Has the goal been achieved? For me, yes. I got the water-bending effect I was after; the composition works -- there is nothing to look at in the shot except the main subject, and the darkness in front of it carries implications. I got this shot by aiming the camera at a spot in the water which looked good, and then waiting for a water strider to drift into the frame. Before that, I used to move the camera around to try to follow striders. The problem is, the striders shoot this way and that every couple seconds, so you never have time to focus the camera before they leave the shot. By focusing on one spot I fixed several degrees of freedom (camera angle, water reflection, focus), so the task became much easier.
The water strider pictures presented here span a three-month interval of time. I went out to the stream of water approximately every other weekend. At some point I was so annoyed by water striders' constant movement that I captured a few of them with a cheesecloth and put them in a pan filled with water. I was hoping I could get them to sit around while I took some pictures. No such luck. One got its feet wet when I captured it, so it couldn't float properly -- its whole body would lay on the water. Another water strider, which was holding an insect in its mouth when it was captured, dropped the lunch box and jumped away. There was just no way they would float around in an enclosure.
I will certainly not stop with these pictures. After a few months, however, I have honed several methods for shooting water striders: work without a flash; try to get them to come to you instead of following them around; get down really low so you're not shooting them from above; shoot late in the day they are low on energy and not moving around as fast, and don't try to capture them; work in an area without much current, where striders like to rest; move very slowly to avoid spooking them. Only once these technical hurdles were overcome, which took a while, I could finally do what I wanted.
So we see that it really doesn't matter how much time or effort it takes to make a picture, as long as the result is satisfactory. It could be one random good shot, or it could take several weeks. This is because photographs traditionally don't come with a small print like "look what I did on the first try". Neither can one a bad shot by explaining to the viewer, "I was running out of batteries". So one has to have no excuses, because they cannot be made a part of a photograph.
Part 3: Anatomy of a Session
In the previous part, I illustrated the trial-and-error process of finding out how to shoot a new subject. In this part I'll analyze an actual macro photo session to show what goes where and how it's all used.
In this picture you can see all the equipment that was used to make a shot of the scutigerida centipede.
The camera is Canon D60. I used the RAW mode to get the best quality. Using JPEG results in artifacts which later surface during sharpening in Photoshop (with macro you almost always want to sharpen elements of the picture a little bit).
The flash is Speedlite 420 attached using a flash cord (a must). Also, I'm using a flash bounce made by Lumiquest; a business card taped to the back of the flash could do the job, too. The purpose of this, or any bounce is to increase the apparent size of the light source. In this case, the light is so much bigger than the subject that shadows become very soft. I nearly always use the bounce, because otherwise the light from the flash is too harsh. I don't think the flash was even intended to be used without some kind of diffuser; it's just sold without one.
Next, you can see the tripod and a ball tripod head. This is a relatively cheap mount that cost $56 at B&H. Using a three-axis mount for macro work is counterproductive at best -- by the time you adjust the camera the subject is gone. Also, the ball mount has to be large and heavy-duty enough to support the equipment. D60 is not the lightest camera around, and neither is the Canon's 100mm lens, so together they require a massive support. The tripod also has to be sturdy, and a good one will set you back at least $130. Light & flimsy tripods are too prone to vibration, and it's best to avoid them altogether.
Finally, you can see the remote shutter release. A tripod is no good if you shake the whole thing with your finger, so the remote release is needed to prevent shaking. Also useful in reducing the jitters is the mirror lockup mode, if your camera has one. When using mirror lockup, taking a shot is a two-step process. First press of the shutter raises the mirror, which tends to shock the camera a little; the next press performs the exposure and lets the mirror fall back.
The aperture in this case was f/22. For close-up shots, aperture of at least f/16 is required, otherwise everything will be out of focus. An aperture like this would correspond to an exposure time of more than 1 second without a flash.
Finally, you can see the improvised working surface. Centipedes like independence and will not wait around for you to take pictures of them. In addition, scutigeridae are afraid of light, so this one found darkness by going onto the lower side of the piece of cardboard. This was convenient for both of us -- with not much ambient light around the insect was happy, and I was happy. Once the centipede froze (when not moving, insects usually sit very still) I was able to slowly rotate the cardboard into view without alerting the insect. I had plenty of time for shooting. In fact, I left to get a drink, and when I came back half an hour later, it was in the same position.
The distance to the lens was about 20cm. Note that the final picture was turned 180 degrees. That's why the centipede's legs hug the curve so tightly -- it's not standing on it, it's hanging upside-down!
At the end of the session, I released the subject. I think it's important not to hurt insects that you shoot; it's just a question of being honest with the viewer. Who wants to find out that the subject of a photograph died a gruesome death, or even worse, was dead or frozen during shooting?
Using a digital camera is definitely the best way to do macro. With an film camera you shoot and then hope that in a week you'll get something that wasn't a waste. You barely learn. You read too much literature, admire others' shots, and eventually get a feeling that you're an idiot and that the photography is not for you. Digital is a different story. With a turnaround time of a few seconds, you can see for yourself what all the controls on the camera do, and eventually you start getting what you want. I only understood what aperture and exposure really worked like until I started experimenting with a digital camera. I believe that any enthusiast can make macro photographs that are as good technically as their optics will allow, and as exciting visually as their patience, luck, and inspiration will let them.
Instead of saying good bye now, like a traditional tips & tricks article would, I invite you to leave comments and/or questions.