An Intimate Look at the Canadian Rockies — Slow Photography Movement

In Capturing Context, we share the story behind the image, providing insight into the photographer's approach and experience, and allowing the reader to connect more deeply with the work.

“Your Instagram feed is starting to look more abstract,” my wife commented recently, an unprompted observation that led to some introspection on my part. A quick glance at my feed made me think that she was on to something. While I never consciously decided to seek out more abstract images, my approach towards the photographic experience, and the subjects I choose, has been shifting. I have been doing less scrambling at sunset, spending less time chasing “epic” shots, and feeling less stress when weeks pass without capturing anything. Instead, I’ve been challenging myself to spend more time looking for unique vantage points, and searching for simple compositions that get to the essence of what I see in a place or subject. The photographs in this post, from a long weekend in the Canadian Rockies, were probably the first indicator of my changing methodology. The cover image is a perfect example: shot on a beautiful alpine lake, surrounded by broad vistas that mirrored perfectly on calm waters. It took me a while to find a composition that synthesized what I was seeing in a simple, visually impactful way.

“The notion that you can say more by showing less is one that increasingly captivates me.”

I believe that my change in approach is partly due to my participation in this movement, and constructive dialog with other contributors about what it means to slow down. When launching this website, I had not associated this approach with tighter compositions, longer focal lengths, or more intimate shots. Once I started collaborating with Jennifer Renwick and Beth Young, hearing their insights, and getting to know their work, I realized that to them, these were important aspects of slow photography. On Instagram, I read a caption where Beth described keeping her telephoto lens on her camera almost full time, to frame her subjects tightly. Owning the same lens, I immediately wondered if mine was somewhat under-utilized. Jennifer’s article on her experience in Yellowstone, and the moment she realized that zooming in on details offered enhanced creative opportunities, further reinforced the idea. I now think of a longer focal length as a tool to exponentially multiply the amount of compositions available in any given scene. While a wide lens could include everything you see in a single image, a telephoto subdivides your field of vision into more frames. The longer the lens, the more possible compositions that become available. That is how I achieved the photo below. Even in the harsh light of a sunny day and surrounded by distractions, I was able to shoot through a small gap in foreground trees and create a simple scene out of very distant elements.

Even when consciously slowing down, I have always thought it harder to find intimate compositions when surrounded by grand, sweeping landscapes (and the Canadian Rockies are nothing, if not grand!). I expected to come back from this visit with mostly broad, panoramic views. I brought back a few such shots, but in reviewing the lot, I realized that I had more telephoto images than usual – and therefore more intimate scenes. I still believe that a slow approach can be useful in pursuit all types of images, from the broadest landscapes to the macro shots. Lately, however, the notion that you can say more by showing less is one that increasingly captivates me.

The other thing I noticed looking at my collection of photos from this trip, is that several do indeed read as abstracts. The image below may be my favorite of them, an intimate look at the reflections of pine trees on a lake. I shot this at 300mm, after abandoning a wide-angle composition that I had set up before sunrise. When the first rays of sun did not create the image that I had envisioned, I was forced to look at things differently, more specifically, closer. In the end I was rewarded with an arguably better - and certainly more original – image than I had planned.

Mirror Pine Tree Abstract / Ernesto Ruiz

The three photographs shared to this point read as somewhat abstract because they are less specific depictions of one particular location than more common landscape scenes. They also have very simple tonality (one or two prominent colors), and two of them feature a visual inversion (though only one of them is presented upside down). Still, they all strongly represent key elements that give this region its unique character, without identifying the exact spot they were taken. Whether in pine-tree covered mountainsides against the sky or in the turquoise waters of alpine lakes, blues, greens, and mirror waters are central to my memories of this place.

“If telephoto lenses open up a world of possible compositions, macro lenses open up a whole universe.”

Somewhat less abstract, but still representative of a similar approach, the image below was captured downstream from Athabasca Falls, a large and famous waterfall. Once again, additional exploration yielded a compelling image, even when the light (and large crowds) made photographing the more obvious subject less desirable. The long focal length and intimate framing helps to eliminate distractions and create a simple, appealing, and unique composition.

It wouldn’t be appropriate to talk about intimate compositions without recognizing the potential of macro photography. While I don’t attempt it often, I did try my hand at it during this visit as well. If telephoto lenses open up a world of possible compositions, macro lenses open up a whole universe. You really, really, have to take your time if you want to be able to see things around you at this scale. I spotted this particular lichen composition on the rocks by the trail, at a spot where – opposite it – a fantastic panoramic view down to Lake Louise opened up. I must have seemed lost to people, with my back turned to the view, and my macro lens pointed back at the rock. I had been marveling at these intricate lichen patterns throughout the trip, and it felt right to try bringing back an image that highlighted the beauty of this place at this scale.

Every one of these images was made possible by spending enough time exploring, taking everything in, and intentionally looking beyond the most evident compositions. They were achieved by pausing and finding moments that showcase something specific about the place within the larger scene. Ultimately, they are examples of the tighter compositions that I’ve now come to recognize as an important way of seeing – one that goes hand in hand with a slow approach. When looking for unique images, we often have to rethink our viewpoint; whether by looking closer, in unexpected directions, at details, at what’s under our feet, or in the corner of a reflection. Often though, and luckily for us, the simple act of changing your lens is all it takes to change your entire perspective.