National Geographic photographer, Dewitt Jones, presents his new work here at Viewpoints. Residing on the isle of Molokai, Dewitt brings us a unique view of Hawaii's people and Hawaii's beauty. Come enjoy his extraordinary images. A confluence of color, light, and line that will delight the eye and touch the heart.
SATURDAY, MARCH 31, 5 p.m. - A walk through with Dewitt Jones
Dewitt will not only tell the stories behind his incredible photographs, he will also share with you WHY he photographs. Here, in his own words is a little preview.
My observations about photography can be broken down into two categories: what I can explain and what I can only hint at, the latter being by far the more important.
What I can explain is mostly technical. When I say I can only hint at the rest, it's not out of any desire to hide creative secrets. It's because much of my photography is done on an intuitive level and usually for reasons beyond the photograph itself.
It's this non-technical part of photography that's the most important to me however and so, every once in a while when I try to share some tidbit of information on how to take better photographs my brain starts screaming, "Stop worrying about the camera or the f stop or the filter - just look! LOOK!”
“Ultimately it doesn't even matter if you push the shutter. Just go out and look. Look until you are so excited by what you see that you find yourself accosting innocent bystanders and screaming 'Do you have any idea how beautiful this planet is???!!!'"
It's thoughts like these that really begin to get at why I photograph. Someone once said "The banquet is laid though nobody comes". It's true, you know. Time and again nature has brought light and line and shape together in ways that make my heart dance and my mind rejoice. And there, alone with a sunset, or the light on a rushing stream, or softly falling autumn leaves, I find myself saying, "This would all happen whether or not I was here to see it."
The banquet is spread constantly, with no thought of whether anyone will attend. If I were receptive enough, perhaps I would see it in everything. But I'm not, so photography is one of the tools I use to help me concentrate, to help me see deeply, to block out all that is extraneous and see that which is essential.
There's no magic inherent in the camera; it's just an aid. It can also be a handicap. How many times have I found myself at the end of a long assignment unable to see anything except through the lens - totally dead to the world unless I take the camera to my eye. Enough! It's time to put it away.
Or how many times have I been completely involved in the scene before me, transported to a place beyond expression, when my hand reaches instinctively into my shoulder bag and I place a camera between me and the experience. In both cases the camera has gotten in the way of the very kind of receptivity I want it to help me with.
The seeing is always more important than the photograph. When the photograph becomes an end in itself, then it will be time for me to stop. I make my living through photography, but it's what photography puts me in touch with that I'm really interested in. The money and kudos are important; the seeing is essential.
So photography to me is not an end but a means to an end. The end is a life-style, and attitude, an approach to the world that is filled, hopefully, with reverence and wonder. It's seeing the banquet in everything.
I haven't achieved that end. I probably never will. But the moments when I've touched it let me know that it exists and confirm my commitment and direction.
That magic, that mystery, that banquet is the really reason why I photograph. And why I will continue to as long as my eyes will see.
-- Dewitt Jones |