Climb the mountains and get their good tidings.
-John Muir
When I was a wee lad and I visited the National Parks with my family, we would stop into a gift shop at some point on our trip to pick up a souvenir of our visit. I would normally gravitate to the postcard racks, rotating each over and over again perusing each sets of cards. I’m sure I bothered several other shoppers as these racks were usually quite old and as such and they usually squeaked and creaked their objection to my movements. I would carefully select the card that I thought exemplified the beauty of the place, take my change, count it out and then take it to the counter to be bagged.
With each purchase, my dream of photography began to form, I realized that not only did I want to visit the beautiful locations portrayed, but I wanted to share a slice of what I had witnessed with everyone. What better way than with postcards?
I began to carefully study these slices of “art”, their composition, their colors. On my little point and shoot film camera I would frame similar photographs and dream of the day when my photographs graced the glossy surface of postcards.
As I got older and my art evolved, I started to study books of photography, the works of the masters, and images from the intrepid explorers of the wilderness. Older and more experiences, I returned to these parks and realized that many postcards were mid-day shots with simple compositions. In many places, the only differentiation between the cards was the season! Where were the shots of the setting sun with brilliant underlit clouds? Where were the images of thousands of stars above a mountain? Where were the photographs of the waves breaking across the rocks while a rainbow rocked in the background?
For the most part, these types of cards were nonexistent. I knew these shots existed, but why were they not the predominant faces of these cards? For a simple reason – those shots are not good marketing. Postcards are many things: a way to communicate to home to brag, “Look where I am and you are not!”, a reminder of a good vacation, and a pretty picture, but above all else they are pieces of marketing. Clever pieces at that – where else can someone print a picture on card stock and then make you pay for the postage to advertise a location? So why would stunning photographs make even better marketing? Because postcard printers want icons as they look to the majority of people and the majority of people do not stand out in inclement weather hoping for stunning light, they do not spend hours in the fog hoping for a moody image, and they do not get up before sunrise. The common traveler on vacation sleeps in, eats breakfast, hits the main iconic locations around mid-day and they’re back for dinner and a cocktail. Only the intrepid photographers, artists, and nature lovers find themselves out in during the times of most incredible lighting and beauty. Postcard printers know this and target this audience. Does this mean they never have the postcard of the iconic beauty in incredible light? No, they will, but it will be surrounded by images of blue sky and direct overhead sun and for the most part the mid-day sun photographs are the ones that sell.
So what of my dream of sending my images to postcard publishers? There are those that prefer those photographs and those are the ones to target. That doesn’t exclude calendar publishers, puzzle manufacturers, poster printers, etc. that might want that type of image. That doesn’t mean that I’m going to sleep in on my next excursion, however. I’ll still be out before sunrise, in inclement weather and fog, hoping for some incredible light. The blue mid-day sky isn’t the limit!
Technical Details:
Tundra, Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado
Canon 5D Mark II, 17-40 f/4l @ 17mm, 3-stop ND Grad, 2-stop ND Grad, 2 images blended
