Should your photographs be titled?

Yes!

Titles offer clues to the viewer and can provide further insight: additional context about the location, perhaps a window to the photographer's feelings or motivation, or hints about things that might not be obvious and would otherwise be missed. Your title can direct attention to something specific within the frame, convey a message, or describe a mood.

Without question, the title of a photograph can impact how it is perceived. It can imply an interpretation - though it's up to the viewer to come to his or her own conclusion. Far from an empty exercise, then, naming your work is worthy of careful consideration. It's an extension of whatever you're trying to communicate visually.

There are a variety of ways to approach titling, from purely descriptive to a play on words.

Naming images might feel a little daunting if you're new to it. After all, once you've used a title, it's out of circulation as far as your images are concerned, so you've got to keep coming up with new ideas. Still, I find it to be an interesting and creative part of the process of finishing the image.

I've pulled a few examples to illustrate different approaches to titling.

Song titles, lyrics, book titles and films can all be great sources for ideas. Case in point: I call this photograph Rhapsody in Blue (near Juneau, Alaska). Icebergs during the summer months in Tracy Arm Fjord are prolific and quite large. Even with heavy overcast the color of the ice was intense, and the contrast between the ice and the other dark elements within the frame made the blue pop. I could have gone with a straight description like Alaskan Iceberg but I'm sure you'll agree that doesn't have the same impact.

Music helped me name this photograph, too: Moonlight Feels Right (Grand Teton National Park). If you're too young to know the reference, that was the hit debut single of the 1970s band Starbuck. Aside from the fact that I've always loved the song, it's quite appropriate here. This is an example of directing attention to something about the image that is important but not necessarily obvious to the viewer: the quality of light.

The photograph was made with a very long exposure well before the sun came up; the only source of light was the full Harvest moon.

Here's one more borrowed song title: Break on Through to the Other Side (Arches National Park).

Scouting the area for the following morning's shoot, I almost left my camera in the car. This being late afternoon, the place was swarming with tourists and the light was harsh with a lot of contrast. Still, I grabbed my gear. Turret Arch was not what I was there to check, but this scene - at Turret - caught my eye. I liked the way the stacked clouds lined up on the other side of the opening, and the woman parked on the other side was actually a plus; including her in the frame would be great for scale. She had small children with her, so I had to wait a while until the kids moved out of sight and she turned her back to me.

Given the extreme contrast, I had little expectation about this image. I'd left the tripod in the car so was making this handheld and didn't shoot with HDR in mind. Still, Lightroom was able to handle it.

The title of this one is more descriptive of what's occurring, though it also provides some information that isn't necessarily obvious i.e. there's rain falling from that unsettled sky. Rather than using documentary language, I opted for something with a little more flair: Rain on Fire (Grand Teton National Park).

Some titles convey an idea or the story, like this one: Tug of War (Somesville, Maine). The fuchsia in this row of burning bush was mind-blowingly vibrant. I was on my way back to Bar Harbor when I saw it; I turned the car around, found a place to stash it, and walked back up the road to take a closer look. Was there a photograph somewhere in that sea of color? Actually, yes - at least to my eyes.

I saw a struggle between the fence and the row of shrubs. While the fence appears to be on the losing end, it's still in the fight, having called in reinforcements (the supporting stakes). Once I pictured this as a skirmish in progress I had what I needed to depict the spectacular color in an interesting way.

Without the title, though, you probably wouldn't see what I saw. Having been given that clue, you still might see something else. But you'll understand what motivated me to make the photo.

The photographer might be purposely vague. This abstract image is titled Enigma (Page, Arizona), which doesn't give you much in the way of clues regarding the subject, captured in Lower Antelope Slot Canyon. The composition was based on the idea of a riddle, and it's also the reason I chose to process the image in black and white.

Of course you can always provide more information about your photographs via captions. If your work is being displayed in a gallery, it's often limited to title only. On your website, though, you can provide as much additional information as you desire. Or keep it simple. It's up to you.

But by all means, title your photographs.

In Local News

Foliage season is well underway in Grand Teton National Park. Unlike the past two years, the color is good. It's coming in waves, with some areas peaking now while others are still a few days out. Oxbow Bend, which boasts some of the most colorful aspens in the park, has a way to go - but I'm guessing only a few days. Don't wait too long if you've got the Tetons in your sights.

Unfortunately, the conditions could be better. The original forecast for last Sunday called for mixed precipitation, followed by a few days featuring partly cloudy skies. That was wildly inaccurate, as there was zero precipitation, mixed or otherwise, and the clouds were mostly missing in action. Instead, high pressure settled in and seems uninterested in budging, which is great for tourists and recreational activity, but terrible for photography.

The show will go on, regardless of whether or not the forecast is "blah." And the 8-day is definitely nothing to write home about: high and dry.

Time to get creative. Remember the mantra: what kind of photograph can you make given particular conditions?