Photographing iconic backdrops in the Dolomites.
A couple of weeks ago I drove out to Sexten, a picturesque village the lies in the shadow of one of the worlds most famous mountain ranges. The towering '“Cime” of the dolomites are perhaps some of the most photographed mountains in the world, and rightly so. Their abrupt columns jut into the clouds like palatial pillars that contrast with the sweeping valleys below so perfectly — a photographers dream. It was my first time there and naturally I was excited to see these giants for myself, but I was even more excited to photograph them.
I have always loved the idea of “big landscape, tiny human” in photography. When I first bought a proper camera, a Sony a6300, back in 2015, I was obsessed with trying to create compositions that played on this idea. On a trip to the Karakorum Range in Pakistan, my obliging mum posed for me on the edge of every viewpoint and patiently walked up and down roads as I tried to imitate photos I had seen on social media or in magazines. I was embarrassed to post photos of my mum at the time but it was a family holiday and I had no-one else to model for me. (Actually she was a fantastic model and the photos we took are still some of my all time favourites).
So, I had ideas of creating similar photos in the Dolomites. I was there with Jens and Quirin from Stomp It Camps, and the objective was to photograph skiing in front of the iconic range to promote the Stomp It Dolomites Camp — a new product this year that was immensely popular, in part because of the beauty of the location and the quality of the slopes.
We spent the first day filming a series of interviews with Camps Guests documenting their experience on the camp, what they learnt with Quirin (who was their instructor and is an all round legend) and whether they would recommend the camp to others. Each of these was followed by Jens giving a more detailed tutorial style breakdown of the problems they had faced and other ways to overcome them. It was a beautiful day and the guests were fantastic on camera.
Quirin lays down a textbook carve in front of the Tre Cime.
This is the part of photography that is often overlooked. The time spent finding the right shot and then getting all the elements to come together is much more than most people think. The first few attempts were failures. The slope angle was wrong — so we couldn’t actually see the mountains. Too flat so it was impossible to get a good low carve down. Too many trees in the middle ground which distracted the composition and hid the subjects. The list of problems went on and with the clouds adding to the struggle it didn’t look like we would get the shots at all…
But then on a whim we pushed to a different part of the resort, a short rolling slope that didn’t really go anywhere and acted as more of a connection between two lifts. As we skied over it I turned to look over my shoulder and boom! This was it. The ridge was right there with no foreground distractions and the snow was basically un-skied and still had clean crisp groomer lines running up it. As I stood there, a smile forming across my face, the sun burst through the clouds and we even got a patch of blue sky. I felt the excitement rising within me as I rushed to tell the boys what I had in mind.
I harked back to Pakistan and the idea of big landscapes towering over tiny skiers below and explained how we would use creative framing and compression to achieve this. Timing would be everything as I needed the skier to be in an exact spot, both for focus and to make the frame work. Luckilly for me, Jens and Quirin are experts with a lot of photoshoot experience and I have worked with them both before so they understood the plan easily enough. Still, there are always tweaks needed on a shoot like this and we messed up the first few tries: wrong position of the skier, wrong angle from me, lost focus, maybe we should try a left footer instead? These are part of the creative process and often lead to better results — so we embraced them.
Jens times it perfectly as the light comes through.
My Mum, and Passu Cones in Northern Hunza, Pakistan
Day 2 was all about photos. This was what I had been waiting for — a chance to tick this location off the bucket list. I was convinced we would get nothing but “bangers”. However, as is often the way in the real world, my hopes were dashed when I woke up to see the entire range hidden in a thick bank of cloud. The light that had been so sharp and clear yesterday was heavy and flat. I felt a little disappointed and immediately went to check the weather forecast. Snow was due at 12pm…
But, if we were lucky, we would get a short break in the clouds at around 10am. So we continued with the plan, heading up the mountain and began scouting for cool compositions that suited both me as a photographer and the guys as skiers. We needed a slope that looked good but also allowed Jens and Quirin to ski their best turns — steep enough, smooth enough and pretty — a tall order.
Quirin and Jens rip some perfect synchro short turns.
After several laps, the suns short appearance was replaced by darkening clouds, fog and light snow. Our window was closed and we headed down for lunch and then home.
In a mountain cafe we crowded around the camera to look at our work. We had got the shots… and they were bangers. Things rarely go to plan on shoots like this and its in the problem solving and adaptation that the true magic is created. Often the vision at the start evolves and becomes something entirely different to what you set out to achieve. In this case, my ideas of crisp blue skies and perfectly even sunlight were not to be, but in the end the clouds brought an extra dimension to the images that further exaggerates the “big landscape, small human” feeling that I so wanted to achieve. And actually, I’m not sure these photos would be as visually interesting if the sky was blue and clear.
So there it is, I finally saw the Dolomites in all their glory, took some photos I can be proud of and did it all with great friends and company. I can’t wait for the next one!