A Beach Reimagined — Sam Folsom

While considering pictures to select for a post on my favorite photos of 2021, I came across some images that caused me to stop and think about themes in my recent work. This ultimately led me to shelve the Favorites idea and instead dig into what I saw as a noticeable development in my photography last year that I thought might make for a more interesting discussion.

Rather than continuously chasing epic light and iconic locations in 2021, I spent a lot of time wandering in the woods or exploring the rocky coast on overcast days. Longer focal lengths were common, and my concentration was often focused on more intimate scenes. To be sure, I made time for trips to iconic places, namely Yosemite and Mono Lake, and I came away pleased with a fair number of photos I took. But in reviewing last year’s work, I now see that the images which resonated the most were those that came from familiar places near home and focused on subjects that were far from “epic.” I don’t want to leave the impression that this is some kind of broad, permanent change in my approach to photography - far from it - but it does represent an evolution in how I see things and an expansion of my interests.

I remember deciding I wanted to expand my repertoire last year by exploring tree photography more substantively. At the very least I can say that after countless hours hiking in the woods, I made some photographs of trees that got me excited. Similarly, it was evident that I started to take a different approach to photographing the nearby coastline last year. While I don’t recall a specific decision to try to see the beaches I frequent in a different way, it’s clear in reviewing my photos that’s what I did. Wide-angle landscapes at sunset were less common, as I preferred to go out in the mornings under cover of the persistent marine layer in Northern California. Part of this was that I wanted longer periods of even light to explore the rocks and waves at a more leisurely pace. What was sacrificed in losing the irresistible hues of sunset was replaced by soft light and more time, unbound by the fleeting golden hour, to see the landscape and think carefully about compositions.

I could have devoted this piece to trees or other observations from the past year, but I decided to focus on images from a beach on the San Mateo coast that I have been photographing for many years. Although it’s far from a bucket list site for most photographers (I rarely see other people with cameras and tripods), it’s a fascinating beach and one with endless possibilities for photography. While some of my all-time favorite images have come from this beach, including dramatic waves and epic sunsets, one of its most distinctive characteristics, the unusual sandstone formations, has been a challenge for me to shoot. A geological marvel, this beach is riddled with incredible honeycomb cavities in the rock called tafoni, and wide ribbons of sandstone with a beautiful, slate blue color that looks somehow other-worldly.

Over the years I have attempted to photograph these rocks in an interesting way but have been overwhelmed by the chaos of shapes and patterns. In effect, I have rarely devoted the time or thought required to make something more than a snapshot of the rocks, and I’ve always ended up quickly turning my camera to the glamorous sunsets and dramatic waves. This year, under gray morning skies, I spent a lot more time studying the beach’s geology. While I can’t say if these pictures rise to anything of note in the genre, I was pleasantly surprised to be able to make some images that I felt expressed the character and beauty of a distinctive feature of the beach - its unique sandstone formations. The sunsets over the Pacific and crashing waves are certainly leading attractions, but the wondrous geology stands as an important part of the show and one that distinguishes it from other beaches in the area.

The first challenge for a photographer descending to the cacophony of undulating sandstone and jagged edges on this beach is figuring out where to start. From the bluff above it doesn’t look so hard, but down on the shore it’s overwhelming. Like trying to find an orderly composition in a tangled forest, shooting these twisted, sharp-edged rocks requires patience and an eye for simplification.

Many of the most eye-catching formations and patterns elude straightforward compositions, and one of the most difficult considerations is often simply framing. With the random masses of protruding rocks, more conventional aspect ratios frequently leave distracting elements in the frame, no matter the focal length. It’s a humbling exercise to be sure, but the time spent with senses and mind engaged, not to mention the reward of a morning on the beach, far outweighs any disappointment at returning home with little to show. And there were more than a couple of times when I left empty-handed.

Quite a few of the compositions I liked best bordered on abstract, which is not something I have spent much time on. For some images I debated how to introduce a sense of scale, but ultimately I decided to let the textures, colors, tones, and shapes tell the story. It certainly worked for me, but I was there. I wonder if someone who has not seen these rocks in their larger beach context will come away from these images with the same sense of place and appreciation for the unusual formations as I have. Check the end of this post for images that show the beach from a wider perspective.

To put this work in context and show the beach’s environment, the following images, from a few years ago, have more conventional compositions and the captivating colors of sunset.