Scottish Gin -- Take Two

[Mike Buckley]

I photographed this bottle a few weeks ago using a dark background and a reflection displayed in this thread. All along, I have also wanted to photograph it using a bright background with no reflection. It's a bit difficult changing fundamental setups in my makeshift studio, so it has taken awhile for me to get around to making that happen. My other excuse is that I have been photographing wine bottles instead of gin bottles, which proves that I have the right priorities.

I hope you enjoy it!

[Plumcrak]

Mike, I like this version much more than the dark background. I think this one is much cleaner and eliminating the reflection works very well. Another beautiful image.

[travis4567]

Beautiful bottle and photo, the bottle appears to be just floating.

[kaneohebud]

More importantly, how's the gin? Better than Bombay Sapphire or Boodles?

[Mike Buckley]

Thanks, everyone!

Sorry, Bud, but I don't know anything about gin. This bottle was retrieved from a trash can at a bar. My sister-in-law knows the manager and has his permission to look through the trash. She is planning to make something out of the bottle, so I have to return it to her.

[Shadowman]

Nice image. Do you have a collection of backdrops that you can interchange for work like this?

[flashback]

Mike,
interesting and good image...but isn't Scottish Gin a bit of an oxymoron? :-D

[Mike Buckley]

Thanks, guys!

Sorry, Jack, but according to Donald a surprising amount of gin is made in Scotland. I wouldn't know. Ask me about wine and I've got you covered.

Do you have a collection of backdrops that you can interchange for work like this?

Probably surprisingly few. The most successful backgrounds I have used so far involve just three materials -- translucent vellum (as in this image), a piece of 40% translucent white acrylic and a board wrapped in high-quality black felt that reflects virtually no light. Ironically, at least half the time I use that black velvet I could use a white board to achieve the same effect. I also have two rolls of paper -- white and black -- that I use the least because they wrinkle easily and are unwieldy in my tiny makeshift studio and my klutzy hands.

[IzzieK]

My other excuse is that I have been photographing wine bottles instead of gin bottles, which proves that I have the right priorities.

I hope you enjoy it!

"People say that drinking milk makes you stronger...
Drink glasses of milk then try to move a wall. Can't.
Drink 5 glasses of wine, wall move by itself."

[deetheturk]

Another great image Mike!

[Downrigger]

Another great image Mike!

Ditto.

But... your work is so exactly perfected, Mike, I wonder if you are satisfied with the main cylinder of the bottle itself, as it hasn't much 3-D to it - is flat. The label and the upper rim give roundness, and the "foot" of the bottle has subtle round effect. but I wonder how one would address the cylinder of black glass itself, if one wanted to, and wonder if you think it would add if you could.

[Mike Buckley]

Thanks to everyone and especially to Mark for his great eye!

About Mark's questions:

Yes, I'm satisfied with the main cylinder but there are two issues about it that make me less than ecstatic.

The first issue is the one you mentioned that the shape of the bottle is not conveyed in the black area. You and I aren't ignoring that the label conveys that shape and that our mind knows that the black area must also be the same shape. Even so, we would also like the black area on its own to indicate that shape so long as doing so doesn't result in anything that becomes too much of a compromise.

The other issue is that there is detail at the top and bottom of the cylinder that is not apparent in my image. If you look at both sides of the very bottom of my photo, you see there is a rim that is only apparent at the sides. The same sort of rim is also at the top but cannot be seen in the photo.



This photo (not mine) addresses both issues. (When looking at the image that is not mine, be aware that that bottle is similar to mine but not the same. There are two rims at the bottom of the other bottle, though mine has only one rim there. The labels on the two bottles are also different as are the positions of the label relative to the embossing on the top of the bottle.)

The first issue is addressed using a large light source that is reflected in the glass. The source is usually a white reflector or a light shining through large diffusion material. I used reflectors to create the same effect when making Wine: Châteauneuf-du-Pape's embossed wine bottle.

However, I use the technique very sparingly because it's so clichéd and because it adds an element of complexity that goes against the element of simplicity that I usually try to maintain. I had no choice but to use it when photographing the bottle of Chateauneuf-du-Pape because the embossing on the bottle is so important and those brighter areas were needed to make the embossing immediately apparent. I chose not to use the technique when photographing the gin bottle because I wanted the stark simplicity of the black area of the bottle to make the label stand out with absolutely no distractions immediately around it. That's one of the many compromises that we photographers make all the time, which is fine with me so long as they are informed compromises rather than accidental or uninformed.

I really admire the interesting detail in that other photo displaying the rims at the top and bottom of the bottle and wish mine also displayed them. I will do some more experimenting to determine if I can bring out that detail. I'm actually stumped about how to do that, though that's probably because I'm using a mindset that has to do with overcoming the limitations of my makeshift studio and am not thinking enough about the possibilities that would exist if I didn't have those limitations.

Thanks again for bringing your critical eye to the discussion!

[Brownbear]

Another gem... I love both versions equally.

[Downrigger]

I chose not to use the technique when photographing the gin bottle because I wanted the stark simplicity of the black area of the bottle to make the label stand out with absolutely no distractions immediately around it. That's one of the many compromises that we photographers make all the time, which is fine with me so long as they are informed compromises rather than accidental or uninformed.

Makes perfect sense, exactly what I wondered about, and the whole post is a terrifically helpful and efficiently presented and illustrated seminar.

[Loose Canon]

I'm actually stumped about how to do that, though that's probably because I'm using a mindset that has to do with overcoming the limitations of my makeshift studio and am not thinking enough about the possibilities that would exist if I didn't have those limitations.

Is compositing completely out of the question?

[Mike Buckley]

Is compositing completely out of the question?

Not at all; I regularly use composites of up to four images though two or three is the norm. Due to the round nature of the bottle, the composite might be made up of so many captures that, frankly, it's not worth the time and energy to make it happen. As I explained in my previous post, I'm not really sure so that may be not much more than a guess.

Back to your question about the need to remove labels on the rear of the bottle: I was in a wine store today (that's a total surprise, huh! ) and noticed a rear label that was surrounding the front label when looking at the front of the bottle. It dawned on me then why I haven't had that problem. When the wine is red wine, it's so nearly opaque that any shadow that would be cast from the rear label is obscured by the wine. When the wine is white, every bottle I have photographed involves a front label that extends at least 180 degrees around the bottle, preventing anything on the rear from being seen.

I realized this because I came upon a bottle of white wine that had small labels of the same size on the front and rear. The refraction/magnification caused by the liquid made the rear label look larger than the front label. If I were to photograph that particular bottle, I would have to remove the rear label.

[Loose Canon]

Due to the round nature of the bottle, the composite might be made up of so many captures that, frankly, it's not worth the time and energy to make it happen.

Seriously?

I need to take a page from your book Mike!

All this happy liquid stuff I am looking at takes a huge amount of time! Even when you can get the shot in one frame!

Typically the setup takes ten times as long as getting the actual shot (if you’re lucky) then cleaning up the mess, and post goes into the wee hours, hope you didn’t get any of the electronics gear wet and trash it, or get electrocuted yourself!

You have to wear rain gear, rubber boots, a dive mask, and a SCUBA tank! I have a life raft and flares ready in case I have to Abandon Garage!

Easily a day or three for one shot!

Dang! What was I thinking! I need a tall glass of Gin!

[Mike Buckley]

I hear ya, Terry! You're gonna regret the length of my follow-up.

A little background you may not know about me is that a few decades ago I was regularly writing musical arrangements and a few compositions mostly for classical musicians, who happen to be very picky for the most part. I had written a composition for a really good brass quintet that had decided to program it on a concert. The group was close to getting the rhythm of a particular measure in my piece right but not quite right. It was a surprise because they were performing everything else in the piece and the other pieces they had rehearsed with flawless rhythm. So, I mentioned it to my good friend, the tuba player. Without missing a heartbeat, he looked at me and explained, "The time that would be required to get that measure truly right is more time than the music in that measure is worth." I knew immediately that he was right. I've never forgotten that important lesson in the 40 years since then.

If that particular measure had been, frankly, truly great music, it would have been worth it to them to spend more time on it. And they would have. But it wasn't truly great music. They knew it. My friend knew it. Better yet, he also knew that I knew it.

I feel that way about all but one photograph of the 10,000 keepers that I have captured so far. (I have probably captured 100,000 frames but only the delete button knows the exact number.) There is a point for me that the additional time spent on a particular photograph would be better spent making the next photograph.

If I was attempting to accurately document the gin bottle, I would certainly keep working on this image until every detail of it was perfectly revealed. However, I'm not trying to accurately document it; instead, I'm trying to make a really enjoyable image and accurate documentation is not required to make that happen.

One advantage of working in a makeshift studio is that its limitations help me keep things in a perspective that is meaningful to me. The working area of my studio is a whopping 6 feet by 9 feet. Subtract the two-foot aisle where I walk and stand to the side when setting up light stands and the like, and the actual shooting area is 4 feet x 9 feet. That's only if I shut the door to the room and don't have to leave. When I have to open the door, the shooting area becomes 4 feet x 8 feet. Now for the part that you're really gonna love: the ceiling height of the shooting area is 5 feet. I'm not tall, but I am 5' 8".

You mentioned that setting everything up takes ten times as long as getting the actual shot. I doubt that I'm that fast. Considering the limitations of working in my makeshift studio without bumping into equipment, speed is never going to be my goal. That's okay with me because, fortunately, I enjoy that part of the process. After I get the shot, I take the memory card into my home office and view the image on the computer. (As you now realize, the idea of cramming more equipment into such a small space to use tethered shooting wouldn't pass the laugh test.) That's when I invariably see that I got any number of things seriously wrong and am really excited about having the opportunity to start all over.

Once I have finally gotten a shot that is "good enough," there really is a point that it's simply not worth spending more time on it. After all, it's only glass. And some of it is already broken.

[kaneohebud]

I hear ya, Terry! You're gonna regret the length of my follow-up.

A little background you may not know about me is that a few decades ago I was regularly writing musical arrangements and a few compositions mostly for classical musicians, who happen to be very picky for the most part. I had written a composition for a really good brass quintet that had decided to program it on a concert. The group was close to getting the rhythm of a particular measure in my piece right but not quite right. It was a surprise because they were performing everything else in the piece and the other pieces they had rehearsed with flawless rhythm. So, I mentioned it to my good friend, the tuba player. Without missing a heartbeat, he looked at me and explained, "The time that would be required to get that measure truly right is more time than the music in that measure is worth." I knew immediately that he was right. I've never forgotten that important lesson in the 40 years since then.

If that particular measure had been, frankly, truly great music, it would have been worth it to them to spend more time on it. And they would have. But it wasn't truly great music. They knew it. My friend knew it. Better yet, he also knew that I knew it.

I feel that way about all but one photograph of the 10,000 keepers that I have captured so far. (I have probably captured 100,000 frames but only the delete button knows the exact number.) There is a point for me that the additional time spent on a particular photograph would be better spent making the next photograph.

If I was attempting to accurately document the gin bottle, I would certainly keep working on this image until every detail of it was perfectly revealed. However, I'm not trying to accurately document it; instead, I'm trying to make a really enjoyable image and accurate documentation is not required to make that happen.

One advantage of working in a makeshift studio is that its limitations help me keep things in a perspective that is meaningful to me. The working area of my studio is a whopping 6 feet by 9 feet. Subtract the two-foot aisle where I walk and stand to the side when setting up light stands and the like, and the actual shooting area is 4 feet x 9 feet. That's only if I shut the door to the room and don't have to leave. When I have to open the door, the shooting area becomes 4 feet x 8 feet. Now for the part that you're really gonna love: the ceiling height of the shooting area is 5 feet. I'm not tall, but I am 5' 8".

You mentioned that setting everything up takes ten times as long as getting the actual shot. I doubt that I'm that fast. Considering the limitations of working in my makeshift studio without bumping into equipment, speed is never going to be my goal. That's okay with me because, fortunately, I enjoy that part of the process. After I get the shot, I take the memory card into my home office and view the image on the computer. (As you now realize, the idea of cramming more equipment into such a small space to use tethered shooting wouldn't pass the laugh test.) That's when I invariably see that I got any number of things seriously wrong and am really excited about having the opportunity to start all over.

Once I have finally gotten a shot that is "good enough," there really is a point that it's simply not worth spending more time on it. After all, it's only glass. And some of it is already broken.

[kaneohebud]

Point eloquently made!