enji Yamaguchi’s shop could be mistaken for Sid’s workbench from Toy Story, a place where mangled lenses and broken shutters crowd out bare areas of his workspace. His office is tucked away in the basement of National Geographic, behind a grease-covered floor filled with drill presses and electric saws. Surrounded by robotic motors, modified macro lenses, and custom flashes, Kenji builds contraptions that can’t be bought. When a photographer needs to fasten a camera onto a thirty-foot pole to capture a bird in her nest, or build a wide-angle macro lense to identify pollen on a flower with mountains in the background, he’ll call Kenji
VIDEO: Visit Kenji’s workshop and meet the man behind the gear
He is particularly fond of his custom motion-detecting flashes, or what he calls “camera traps.” In the wild, cheetahs like to chew on the rubber-coated cable that connects the camera to its flash. Kenji solved this problem by incorporating a wireless flash. As a result, photographers are able to illuminate wildlife without distraction. The first time I meet Kenji, he was cranking out flash units—just like a one-man production line.
Kenji has been integral to projects worldwide. One of his favorite experiences occurred a few hours away from his native Tokyo when he helped underwater photographer David Doubilet with a month-long assignment in Suruga Bay, Japan. His main challenge was getting two scenes on one frame (a double exposure). Kenji’s role was to load the film and help capture the images in a single, seamless photo. A bifocal view captures the robot Searover in the little explored waters of Suruga Bay off of Honshu Island in Japan. Photograph by David Doubilet
Launch Gallery
The photographic team used one piece of film to create two different images. First they exposed the lower half of the negative underwater, then expose the upper half above water several days later.
Over the course of this project I’ve developed a profound respect for the people who manage and maintain our photographic tools. During our interview, I asked Kenji about his motivation. He said that he continually asks himself, “What can I do to make this device better?”
***** See how National Geographic photographer Steve Winter uses camera traps built by Kenji to photograph big cats. A native West Virginian, David Ehrenberg found his love for video storytelling in a high-school production class. After four months as National Geographic magazine’s multimedia apprentice, he is currently working as a video coordinator with the digital video team at National Geographic Studios. Outside of work, he enjoys backpacking, kayaking, and trout fishing. Follow David on Instagram.
A great camera and technical know how will only take you so far when
you're learning to take great photos. You also have to pay attention to
your composition and what you're trying to convey with the pictures you
take, whether you want to make a statement or just capture a special
moment for others to see. The best way to start thinking about how to
compose your own pictures is to study other photos you love.
Photographer Simon Ellingworth
has a great exercise to help you analyze the photos other people take
so you can understand what makes them so good. He offers up a few
examples, but suggests you sit down with the photos that you think are
particularly well composed, close your eyes, and when you open them,
immediately look at the photo.
Then ask yourself a few questions,
like where your eye is immediately drawn, and how you scan the photo
(does your eye go straight to a specific object, or are you scanning the
photo in an S-shape?) Was the photo taken from eye level, or is a
special type of photo, like a macro or wide-angle shot? How was light
and shadow used in the photo? Finally, ask yourself if it's spawned an
emotional response. Studying a great photo for the way the photographer
has composed it—and the narrative or emotional response you pick up from
it—will help you examine your own shots for similar nuances.
You
can read the full list of suggestions at the link below, but the gist
is that by taking time to really examine the photos you like, you can
understand how to improve your own composition before you ever go into
the field. Then, when you do head out to start shooting, whether you're
taking pictures at a museum, on a hike, or at the kids' soccer game,
you'll be better able to compose great shots, or at least sift out the
bad ones from the great ones when you look back through what you took.
