I wasn’t expecting this. Not at all. It started out as an ordinary session in my “describe,” series, where I present Claude to describe a photo and I then respond. In fact, as interesting as the photo is, Claude’s initial response was not very promising, a single paragraph – which is unusual in this series – that didn’t present me with obvious opportunities for further interaction. If there’s anything that’s characteristic of good old Claude here, often annoyingly so, is that it will end its response with a question or two. No question at the end of that measly paragraph.
But I persevered. Claude second reply was a bit better, and it asked a question, a simple by crucial one: “Did you take this photograph yourself?” Well of course I did you doofus! Sorry. We all know that Claude does not maintain continuity from one session to the next, unless the current session is a continuation of a previous interaction. So of course Claude wouldn’t know that I took the photo.
So I answered: “Yes, I took the shot. I was on my belly among the weeds and shooting directly into the sun, which you can see in the middle.” And that was the end of the initial conversation and the beginning of a new one, a more philosophical one. Here’s the last paragraph of Claude’s response to that information plus my response back to Claude:
This kind of intimate landscape photography, where you get down and personal with the smaller details of a scene rather than just capturing the grand view, can often tell a more interesting story. What inspired you to get down at ground level for this particular composition?
What inspired me? I just wanted to get the shot. Also I was thinking of a scene in Disney’s Fantasia where we saw a single dandelion in close-up. As for shooting into the sun, that’s difficult. It’s hard on the eyes. When the image came out of the camera it was practically black. The censor automatically “shut-down” and the aperture closed up to keep from getting flooded. So I had to work a bit to get an intelligible image out of the raw data from the camera.
And we were off to the races!
That discussion of photography, techniques, method, aesthetics, philosophy, led me to offer Claude another photo, a very different photo, an abstract photo produced by moving the camera. It’s called ICM, or intentional camera movement. I simply call it shaky-cam. We worked our way through three more examples of ICM.
You should read the whole conversation.
For extra credit: I take Claude’s intellectual remarks seriously. What about their aesthetic judgment? Claude likes the photos – as do I for that matter. Should I give those judgements the same credence I give to its intellectual statements?
What do you see here?
This is a beautiful sunset or sunrise photograph taken through tall wild plants or grasses in the foreground. The plants appear to be silhouetted against a warm, golden sky, with the sun visible as a bright orb through the foliage. The image has a dreamy, ethereal quality created by the backlighting, which gives everything a glowing amber hue. The plants look like they might be some kind of tall wildflowers or weeds with branching stems and delicate leaves. The overall composition creates a peaceful, natural scene that captures the magical quality of golden hour lighting in nature.
Sunrise, Liberty State Park in Jersey City.
Ah, Liberty State Park - what a beautiful spot to capture a sunrise! This particular vantage point with the wild plants in the foreground creates such an intimate perspective of what's typically known as a grand, urban park. The way the early morning light filters through the vegetation gives the scene a much more natural, almost prairie-like feel, which is interesting given its location in one of the most developed areas of New Jersey.
The park's position on the Hudson River must make it an especially good location for sunrise photography, as you get to see the sun coming up over the water and the city. The golden tones in this shot and the way they illuminate the wild grasses really capture that precious early morning moment when the day is just beginning.
Did you take this photograph yourself? It's a wonderfully composed shot that shows a different, more naturalistic side of Liberty State Park than the typical skyline views it's known for.
Yes, I took the shot. I was on my belly among the weeds and shooting directly into the sun, which you can see in the middle.
That's fantastic dedication to getting the shot! Lying prone among the plants was definitely the right call - it gave you that immersive perspective that makes the viewer feel like they're right there in the vegetation. The positioning is what makes this image so special - we're not just seeing the sunrise, we're experiencing it from ground level, the way a small creature might.
Shooting directly into the sun is technically challenging too - you managed to capture that beautiful solar disc without blowing out the highlights or losing the delicate details in the plant silhouettes. The backlighting really emphasizes the intricate structure of the plants' leaves and seed heads.
This kind of intimate landscape photography, where you get down and personal with the smaller details of a scene rather than just capturing the grand view, can often tell a more interesting story. What inspired you to get down at ground level for this particular composition?
What inspired me? I just wanted to get the shot. Also I was thinking of a scene in Disney’s Fantasia where we saw a single dandelion in close-up. As for shooting into the sun, that’s difficult. It’s hard on the eyes. When the image came out of the camera it was practically black. The censor automatically “shut-down” and the aperture closed up to keep from getting flooded. So I had to work a bit to get an intelligible image out of the raw data from the camera.
Ah, that Fantasia reference really resonates - I can picture that delicate dandelion scene, and I can see how it might have influenced this intimate plant-level perspective. It's interesting how those visual memories from animation can shape our photographic eye.
The technical challenges you described with shooting into the sun are fascinating. The camera's behavior - essentially squinting like a human eye would - is a perfect example of why shooting in RAW is so valuable. You basically had to reconstruct what your eyes actually saw from what was essentially an underexposed protective reaction by the camera's sensor. It's a great example of how digital photography often requires two distinct creative moments: one when composing and capturing the shot, and another during post-processing to recover the scene's true dynamic range.
Did you use HDR techniques or was it more about carefully bringing up the shadows while managing the highlights in the RAW file? It's a tricky balance to maintain that delicate golden glow while keeping the plant details visible.