Setting sun through a cottonwood grove © Bruce Herman

People have authored many sayings concerning the significance of the familiar. Here are two:

Familiarity breeds contempt. Attributed to Aesop.

Familiarity breeds contempt only when it breeds inattention. George Santayana

What do these have to do with photography? I personally believe they are quite relevant. I think many of us simply shut off our creative energy when we walk or drive the same route each day. Not only have we seen it before, but we probably have other things on our mind. So unless something unusual happens, like a bear crossing the road in front of us or a rainbow appearing over the front of the Chugach Mountains, we only “see” what we need to get from A to B.

I think that’s a shame because there is beauty all around us if we allow ourselves to be receptive to it. I walk my dogs several times a day. I live on a wooded lot in a neighborhood in which many people have left portions of their lot in a near natural state. That means lots of trees with undergrowth. I’ve made hundreds of intimate landscape photographs in my neighborhood with everything from my 4×5 camera to my iPhone. I also take my dogs with me when I go to the grocery store or post office. On the way to running our errands, we stop for a walk at an old landfill in Eagle River. What is there to photograph at an old landfill? I’ve built an entire project with several hundred infrared photographs at this landfill, all done while walking my dogs. These compositions range from intimate to grand landscapes.

Why make the effort to photograph what you see day after day, year after year? Two reasons related to creativity come to mind. First, familiarity with attentiveness means that I watch the landscape evolve and make photographs when peak conditions arise. Fall colors come to mind, but there are “peaks” throughout the year, even for a given tree or bush. There could be a beautiful drape of snow in winter, buds in early spring, the first leaves with the framework of branches still visible in spring, blooms in the summer, fall colors to be sure, late fall with a few leaves and a visible framework of branches in late fall, and finally, the bare branches, themselves in later fall. In addition to the singular photographs, there is the opportunity to watch the evolution of the landscape. It could be over the course of a year, or even over the years. I have photographed some trees for nearly 20 years.

Mushrooms growing in Alan’s backyard. © 2022 Alan D. Musy

The second reason for making photographs of areas near home is that it is easy to respond to special light or weather conditions. If you’re about to sit down to dinner and the sun appears from beneath a cloud bank, you can excuse yourself and quickly get to a place that will receive the resulting, special light. I used to work within a few minutes’ drive of Westchester Lagoon. I’d photograph ducks in a winter snow squall during my lunch break. Or I might walk around Goose Lake on the paved trail at the end of the day to photograph the forest when the late afternoon light was special. These were places that I visited repeatedly and knew well enough to know when they would be unusually interesting given the special weather or light.

Infrared of cottonwood and Alpenglow Peak © Bruce Herman

You could argue that I currently live in a unique neighborhood, but as I just mentioned, I took time around my work schedule to make photographs in midtown. In addition to the bike trails, lakes and streams within Anchorage, I frequented Kincaid Park and Chugach State Park when I lived in Anchorage, itself. The Prospect Heights and Glenn Alps entrances to Chugach State Parks were two places that I visited several times a week when I lived in Anchorage. The trail system near East High was another prolific area for me. Hiking these trails frequently allowed me to know them in a way I would never know more distant locations.

Some might find photography of the familiar to be boring, but I have found it enriching. I have a sense of intimacy with these familiar areas which is difficult to develop with places that are seldom visited. The images that I create are not the result of being lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time. Instead, they are the result of a creative effort sustained over a period of years. I certainly enjoy visiting new places to make photographs, but I personally find it just as satisfying to recognize the “special” in the familiar.

-By Bruce M. Herman