When the Specimen Cannot Come to the Studio

On-site mineral photography is a different discipline from studio work. There is a version of this job that happens in a controlled environment: black walls, no windows, lighting placed exactly where it needs to be, everything within reach. That version exists, and it works well. However, then there is the other version.

The mesolite

Some specimens cannot be shipped. This is not because of size or weight, but because of what they are.

A mesolite on apophyllite is a hedgehog made of glass. Hundreds of white acicular crystals, each one a fraction of a millimeter wide, radiating in every direction. While the base was solid enough to hold, everything above it was not. Therefore, shipping it would have been optimistic at best.

So I traveled to it. A portable studio, set up in the dark at the client’s home, offered the same controlled conditions I would have at the studio. That part worked.

Then the mesolite presented its second problem, which was dust. Consequently, since it is not the kind a blower removes, the dust settles between the needles and decides to stay. It is too deep to reach and too delicate to touch. I rotated it in every direction, tried every angle with the blower, and cursed quietly. Yet, nothing moved. Twenty minutes of careful, increasingly frustrated work produced nothing useful. As a result, any contact with the crystals was out of the question.

Ultimately, the mesolite was cleaned in Photoshop, particle by particle, in post-production, on a screen. Therefore, the specimen is perfectly clean now. Just not physically. It won.

The geode

Some specimens cannot be shipped. This is not because of size or weight, but because of what they are.

A mesolite on apophyllite is a hedgehog made of glass. Hundreds of white acicular crystals, each one a fraction of a millimeter wide, radiating in every direction. While the base was solid enough to hold, everything above it was not. Therefore, shipping it would have been optimistic at best.

So I traveled to it. A portable studio, set up in the dark at the client’s home, offered the same controlled conditions I would have at the studio. That part worked.

Then the mesolite presented its second problem, which was dust. Consequently, since it is not the kind a blower removes, the dust settles between the needles and decides to stay. It is too deep to reach and too delicate to touch. I rotated it in every direction, tried every angle with the blower, and cursed quietly. Yet, nothing moved. Twenty minutes of careful, increasingly frustrated work produced nothing useful. As a result, any contact with the crystals was out of the question.

Ultimately, the mesolite was cleaned in Photoshop, particle by particle, in post-production, on a screen. Therefore, the specimen is perfectly clean now. Just not physically. It won.

What this means in practice

In practice, on-site work is not a studio session that happens somewhere else. Instead, it is a different discipline. First, the light is what it is. Second, the space offers no alternatives. Finally, the constraints are real and they do not bend.

Sometimes the specimen wins, like the mesolite. Sometimes the room wins, like the white apartment with its cathedral ceilings, its indifferent windows, and its carefully hung artworks that had no intention of moving. In the end, the job is to produce the best possible image within whatever the situation actually is, not within the situation you would have preferred.

That is, incidentally, also what makes it interesting.