Beyond the Burst - Navigating Movement in Single-shooting Mode

Call me ‘old-school’, but after spending 10 years shooting on a Canon EOS 6D, the speed at which my newer R6 is capable of shooting has felt like a step away from the experience of ‘capturing a moment’. I’ve commented countless times on shoots about this speed, especially when hazarding with the ‘continuous shooting’ mode on the camera. Eventually, I got used to it, but I still spend most of my time on ‘single shot’ mode just because this allows me to stay close what I believe is the essence of photography: capturing the perfect moment in real-time. 

It’s that same feeling of capturing a good street shot in the hustle-and-bustle of a busy Sunday market. Only, with a model and a pre-set theme. 

I don’t want to come aross as negative. Embracing both modes allows photographers to strike a balance between precision and spontaneity. Continuous shooting and higher frames-per-second cameras aren’t of zero use, or else they wouldn’t exist, nor would they have such a large fan base.

Still, getting the shot right in-situ echoes the relatively more authentic spirit of film photography, and until I venture into the world of film, this is the closest I can get. On top of this, I’m not really a fan of editing, and much less a fan of sifting through hundreds of seemingly identical photos for one that ticks a few boxes. That process is about as thrilling as watching paint dry, and I’m sure many would agree. That’s why AI-assisted photo culling exists now. (But then, what about the human photographer’s ‘eye’?). 

I’ve always asked models to move around a specific pose for that ‘candid’ feeling. But - perhaps counter-intuitively - actively sticking to single-shooting recently has allowed me to use this mode to push myself to trust my vision and timing as I attempt to capture the right millisecond. 

I compare it to fishing. You cast out your line: positioning the model, checking the lighting and camera settings and making sure there’s as little distraction in the frame as possible so that there’s less work in post-processing. You instruct the model to move in a specific way, at a specific speed that depends on the mood of the photos you’re taking, and then, you wait. Sometimes, you don’t quite get what you want, and the model doesn’t hear the shutter. You notice a slight panic in their eyes, because, let’s face it, they’re probably used to hearing numerous little clickity sounds with every micro-movement. You take some time to reassure them about the process, and you try again. Patience is key. Patience and attention. 

And it’s rather rewarding.

In a world of ever-improving technologies and faster clickities, let’s not forget the beauty of that one perfect click.