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Phil Douglis | all galleries >> Galleries >> Gallery Fourteen: Expressing the meaning of buildings and structures > Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests, Temple of Heaven, Beijing, China, 2004
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19-JUN-2004

Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests, Temple of Heaven, Beijing, China, 2004

I rarely will make a picture of a building by just putting it into my frame and squeezing the shutter button. The result would be literal description – what I call a “postcard” shot. If I wanted postcard pictures, I would buy postcards wherever I go and leave my camera at home. But for me, photography is an adventure in story telling. A postcard view is unacceptable. I must somehow alter or change the building’s appearance to make a point or express an idea capturing what I consider to be the essence of the structure. The Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests is the most familiar building in Beijing’s Temple of Heaven complex. Originally built more than 700 years ago during the Ming Dynasty, the 130 foot high, three-level wood structure was constructed without a single nail. Rebuilt in 1890, its central tower – a pagoda made up of three circular stories -- is its identifying feature. I emphasize that feature by stressing form over detail. Although I made this photograph in the middle of the afternoon, I give it a dawn or dusk effect by deliberately underexposing it. To do this, I trained my spot meter on the sun itself, which floats behind a layer of Beijing summer haze and pollution. The sun plays a major role in ancient Chinese theology – the emperor came here every year at the winter solstice to thank the gods for the last harvest. By exposing for the sun, I emphasize it, making the Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests very dark, and challenging the imaginations of my viewers to fill in the details for themselves. (I take no credit for the tiny bird flying between the first and second story – it just happened to be passing at the moment of exposure.) This ancient structure becomes far more mysterious as a photograph than it actually looks. You can almost hear those imperial prayers to the sun coming from within.

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Phil Douglis03-Nov-2006 06:04
You make an excellent point, Jeff. Words are essential when it comes to expressive travel photography. The image does its job, and the words do their job. Words provide context, the image provides the substance. Together, they should tell the story and encourage viewers to make their own story out of the picture as well. Travel photographs are not intended to work in a vacuum, as on a gallery wall or in a fine art book. They need captions, titles, and yes, complimentary images in some cases to get the job done well. In the case of this cyberbook, my captions go beyond just providing context. They help me to teach by pointing out how and why the image functions as it is intended to function. Just as making expressive pictures is an art, so too is writing an effective caption. Our words should compliment and enrich our images, not cheapen them by attempting to describe what viewers should be able to see for themselves.
Guest 03-Nov-2006 03:27
Phil, your work really makes me think about what I intend to photograph. It does seem that many of your pictures need some words to tell the story. This is not bad - a postcard can stand on it's own, but without a story it has no soul. Your pictures, with words, have soul. Without the words much of the meaning of many of the photographs would be missing (it seems to me). That is also a message to me. A few good photographs with a narrative can make a story another can relate to.

Jeff
Phil Douglis13-Sep-2006 16:47
Thanks, Daniel, for appreciating the sacredness of this image and this place. I've made a very solemn, quiet image here. The murky, brooding colors speak of a great silence, along with much mystery. Silence and mystery are often associated with a sacred mood. Others, such as Celia, would have made a different image, perhaps more celebratory. That is her option, but it was not my choice. We each have our ideas to express, and I am delighted you find my ideas of value and meaning. You say I bring the original purpose of this place back to life. You validate my intentions, as well as my execution. I am happy that this image has helped you to change the way you see, and the way you think about photographs. Good luck to you, Daniel, in all you do.
Guest 13-Sep-2006 14:25
Hello Phil.
This photo along with the text opened my eyes and changed the way I thinked about photography. Is not all about taking pretty photos. There's more....
-Strong- feelings about your photo is that a place in Beijing, the capital city of the most populated country on earth it's empty. Being this a "Temple of Heaven" a sacred place.

Most of the photos at this place, values of sacred are ignored. With your photo, you bring the original purpose of this place back to life.

Thank You...
Phil Douglis24-Jan-2006 00:19
Thanks, Xin, for these words. You and I share a similar view of the purpose of making photographs. Every image can be an extension of our soul, and indeed, can express the essence of the soul of our subject. I can't imagine making photographs as simply a representation of a fact. I don't want to share facts with others. Facts don't trigger the imagination or ignite emotions. But an image rich in expressive qualities can do just that.
Sheena Xin Liu19-Jan-2006 00:57
I really love what you said here, Phil.

"If I wanted postcard pictures, I would buy postcards wherever I go and leave my camera at home. But for me, photography is an adventure in story telling. A postcard view is unacceptable."

Yes, Postcard picture doesn't need to have a soul, so it is a simple description , a statement of materials and facts.... but a real photographic composition has a heart , a vivid soul with assorted emotions.
Phil Douglis09-Sep-2004 04:26
Thanks, Ceclia, for being the first to critique this image. And you did a terrific job on that, too. Your comments make me look at my own image in an entirely different light (pun intended). I was thinking "mysterious, brooding, dark, haunted, ancient abstraction" as I deliberately sucked the life out of this photo and reduced it to pure form and symbol. And now Lim comes along and says "Douglis, this picture just sucks, period!" You hate my "dirty grey brown" mysteries. You wish I would have talked here of a place of "hope" instead. And to so by using black and white or a duotone, perhaps. To change the nature of the color and thus the meaning. Well, I did it. I remade the shot in Photoshop and changed the dirty grey-browns to a rich reddish yellow golden hue. It is a wonderful picture -- far prettier than what my camera orginally made out of that grey-brown pollution hanging heavily over Beijing that afternoon. I felt the oppressiveness of that muddy sky and made my shot to capture that. The enhanced image created an entirely different day, mood, and message, one that I never intended. As for the black and white, I tried that too, and got nothing but a dark hulk under a gray sky. So I'll stick with this one, Celia. But I value the honesty and frankness of your criticism more than you can ever know. Because by ripping my picture, you are also ripping my intentions and wishing instead for an entirely different, more optimistic outcome. As a photo-critic myself, I do this all the time. I impose my own wishes for an image upon the intentions of others. And in doing so, I get them to at least think about what they are saying. And that's what you do here. You challenge my ideas for this image by disagreeing with them. In the process, you have made me rethink my purpose. I have accepted your challenge, Celia, weighed my options, and have come to believe even more strongly in my purposes. And that is what criticism is all about. To force people to re-think, re-evaluate, and if need be, even change their approach. Or, in this case, to provide me with good reasons to stand on my efforts. Ultimately, your comments offer everyone who stops on this page a lesson in photographic expression. Are we really saying what we think we are saying? Or is there a better way to say it? You are asking the questions, Celia. And we must come up the answers. Thank you still again for being my most articulate fan and my toughest critic. I can sleep well tonight.
Cecilia Lim 08-Sep-2004 10:25
Phil, by underexposing this image, you've done two things - you've abstracted the building and changed the tone of the photo completely. I can appreciate what the abstraction does - it creates a simple silhouette that stresses the overall form of the building, accenting the symmetry and curves of this almost organic, handmade wooden structure. The lack of details also add an air of mystery to this great historical landmark. But underexposing the image also created a mood that I feel is too sombre and foreboding for a place called "Temple of Heaven" where people offered their thanks and gratitude to the gods for their harvests. Colour is a very strong tool and I feel that the rather dark, dirty grey-browns that resulted from the underexposure did not speak well for this place of hope. But in keeping with your intention of abstracting the image, I wonder if it would have worked better in black and white so that colour does not distract from what you were trying to say about the essence of its form. I know you are not a great fan of black & white or sepia, but perhaps it can be used to your advantage here.
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