Through My Lens

Kayleigh Sopko

Attempting to Frame the Taj Experience

Photo:  Kayleigh Sopko

My right eye close to the viewfinder, I move my Canon Powershot to the side in attempts to capture the light perfectly. Holding completely still, I stabilize my hand and depress the shutter button. “Click.” I snap one shot and then thanks to technology have the immediate gratification of looking at my picture by quickly switching to the playback mode. I am not pleased. I try again, moving a few inches over, stabilizing this time against a wall, and then I take the shot. Looking at it, it appears to have captured the glistening sunlight slightly better, but no matter how many pictures I take and whatever modes I try, they are unable to capture what is before my eyes. Perhaps there is something in the lens that changes reality into the digital and different image on my camera.

    This inability to capture my surroundings has followed me around the world on my travels. In Alaska, I was unable to capture the blue ice of the glaciers, the sound of cracking ice beneath our cautious feet, or the looks of fear as we took what could have been our last steps. Instead my photographs shrink the glacier to little more than a chunk of ice. The waterfall flowing down to its base appears as a line of wet rocks with perhaps water if one looks closely at it.

    Moving on to Hawaii, the humpback whales collaborate to avoid my attempts to capture a fluke blow, tail slap or breach. I have some photos of fins, air from a spout, and the back end of a breach, but the enormous creature eluded my camera as well as from others.

    Thailand and the Maldives brought beautiful underwater scenes with vibrant colors that no camera could seize. An array of colors swam before my eyes in the form of butterfly fish, rays, angelfish, parrotfish, banner fish, eels, and barracuda. These colors swirled around me as I kicked cautiously with my long fins. The pictures however did not depict the rainbow of undersea life I saw clearly through my large scuba mask.

    In India, neither the rich nor poor could be recorded. There were many poor individuals on the street, but I did not photograph any of their hardships, as fashioning a camera in those areas brought about immediate guilt and disgust for my wealth and fortune. Then the Taj Mahal seemed to appear in the blue sky as an image courtesy of Adobe Photoshop. The lavish craftsmanship of the marble inlay could not be taken or represented within my lens. Moreover, the threatening smog did not appear in any of my shots.

    The United Arab Emirates continued the demonstration of wealth. Skyscrapers and cranes lined the sky. No photo was able to grasp the wealth or the rapid work which had transformed the sand dunes of the desert into concrete and glass.

    Egypt’s Giza Pyramids are easily photographed from the touristy road. However, it is a struggle to get a shot without a tourist, camel ride, or large bus. Also, the photographs do not demonstrate how close the city is to the pyramids or the individual blocks used in forming the tombs. Moreover, the amount of work completed and still lasting from 4,600 years ago by those paying reverence to the cherished dead cannot be found within any one of my sixty photographs.

    The last ancient wonder of the world, the Hagia Sofia in Turkey, was so vast that I could not even photograph the whole dome in one shot. Instead I moved about, capturing only small parts of the dome and structure in each shot. Even on video camera, I will be unable to convey the magnitude of the structure to anyone who has not stepped into it.

    Germany, the last stop, continued with camera difficulties. Picture after picture I snapped at remnants of the Berlin Wall and Checkpoint Charlie. However, I was unable to capture the emotions of when the wall went up or finally came down. The stories of attempts to escape in order to reach West Berlin through submarines, hot air balloons, human slingshots, and hidden compartments in vehicles and the struggles individuals faced are not captured by my lens. 

    As I look back over my pictures, I realize the cliché, “A picture is worth a thousand words,” is not finished. It should end, “and memories are worth a thousand times more.” I have also looked over more experienced photographers’ pictures from our travels. These taken by the people you see with large camera bags or backpacks, hunching over from the weight of the camera and accessories. They pause in front of various scenes in order to put the right lens on, and then adjust for the focal length and aperture. Noting the sunlight, reflection off the object of interest, the orientation of the object, and the depth or angles, they continue to fidget with their camera’s tools. For me, I just adjust the automatic mode Canon gave me and snap away.

    Although their photographs may capture light or colors a different way, they still pale in comparison to the memories and vision within my mind. However, on a trip around the world filled with life altering events in every location, these pictures and jumbled descriptions are the only ways of expressing what has occurred to those left at home.

Kayleigh Sopko

kayleigh.sopko at case.edu

last updated 24 October 2008