By Holly Stuart Hughes

© Camille Seaman
The Collapse, Nebraska, June 2008 (Canon EOS 5D 1/25 sec. F.stop 3.2, 24mm f1.4 lens ISO 160)
Fine-art photographer Camille Seaman shot the images in her latest
project, "The Big Cloud," last summer on a storm-chasing tour from
central Texas through North Dakota. Like her previous project,
"The Last Iceberg," which she shot over several years in the
Arctic and Antarctica, Seaman's new series captures the
awe-inspiring power of nature. But as Seaman explains in our
Exposures feature in PDN's May issue, photographing
super-cell storms—the storm clouds that can produce hail, lightning
and, at times, tornados—presented a different set of logistical and
technical challenges.
"The hard part is that I had no idea how dark it gets under those
things," says the Berkeley, California-based photographer. "In a
lot of the pictures, the grass seems lit, but the sky is dark."
That's because these are isolated clouds that are not part of a
front or weather system. They form rapidly as warm, humid air moves
north and west from the Gulf of Mexico. As its rotation draws
in more air, the cloud can reach heights of 70,000 feet, blocking
out the afternoon sun. "If you storm chase correctly, you don't
even get wet," Seaman says, "You want to be in just this certain
area: behind the action in the southwest corner of the
storm."
Seaman got her first lesson in how to photograph lightning from one
of the dedicated storm-chasers she met on the tour. "You put the
camera on 'bulb' setting. You keep your finger pressed to keep the
shutter open and as soon as the lighting happens, you let go, which
closes the shutter. You’ve got the perfect lightning exposure." Of
course, that's how she was almost struck by lightning. "I was
lucky. My basalt Gitzo tripod has no metal in it, so it couldn't
act as a lightning rod."
One of the most humbling experiences of her storm-chasing tour,
Seaman says, was stopping in Greensberg, Kansas, a city that was
leveled by a tornado that killed 11 people in May 2007. When the
caravan of storm-chasers would pull into a diner in one of the
small towns in Tornado Alley, Seaman says, locals were unhappy to
see them, "because it’s a bad omen for them. They would say, 'Is it
coming this way?' "
But Seaman sees the clouds she photographed as more complex than
simply a source of destruction. "In that force is also creation,"
she says.
She adds, "Hopefully in my life, that will be the line that goes
through everything that I do. I'm really trying in a positive way
to show people a connection to their environment."
For more on Camille Seaman's project, see
"The Gathering Storm" in the May issue of PDN. Seaman's
exhibit
"The Last Iceberg" is on view at Richard Heller Gallery in
Santa Monica and OpenShutter Gallery in Durango, Colorado until May
30, 2009 and at Hoopers Gallery in London until July 3, 2009.
Camille Seaman On Shooting Storm Clouds
May 5, 2009
By Holly Stuart Hughes

The Collapse, Nebraska, June 2008 (Canon EOS 5D 1/25 sec. F.stop 3.2, 24mm f1.4 lens ISO 160)
Fine-art photographer Camille Seaman shot the images in her latest project, "The Big Cloud," last summer on a storm-chasing tour from central Texas through North Dakota. Like her previous project,
"The Last Iceberg," which she shot over several years in the Arctic and Antarctica, Seaman's new series captures the awe-inspiring power of nature. But as Seaman explains in our
Exposures feature in PDN's May issue, photographing super-cell storms—the storm clouds that can produce hail, lightning and, at times, tornados—presented a different set of logistical and technical challenges.
"The hard part is that I had no idea how dark it gets under those things," says the Berkeley, California-based photographer. "In a lot of the pictures, the grass seems lit, but the sky is dark." That's because these are isolated clouds that are not part of a front or weather system. They form rapidly as warm, humid air moves north and west from the Gulf of Mexico. As its rotation draws in more air, the cloud can reach heights of 70,000 feet, blocking out the afternoon sun. "If you storm chase correctly, you don't even get wet," Seaman says, "You want to be in just this certain area: behind the action in the southwest corner of the storm."
Seaman got her first lesson in how to photograph lightning from one of the dedicated storm-chasers she met on the tour. "You put the camera on 'bulb' setting. You keep your finger pressed to keep the shutter open and as soon as the lighting happens, you let go, which closes the shutter. You’ve got the perfect lightning exposure." Of course, that's how she was almost struck by lightning. "I was lucky. My basalt Gitzo tripod has no metal in it, so it couldn't act as a lightning rod."
One of the most humbling experiences of her storm-chasing tour, Seaman says, was stopping in Greensberg, Kansas, a city that was leveled by a tornado that killed 11 people in May 2007. When the caravan of storm-chasers would pull into a diner in one of the small towns in Tornado Alley, Seaman says, locals were unhappy to see them, "because it’s a bad omen for them. They would say, 'Is it coming this way?' "
But Seaman sees the clouds she photographed as more complex than simply a source of destruction. "In that force is also creation," she says.
She adds, "Hopefully in my life, that will be the line that goes through everything that I do. I'm really trying in a positive way to show people a connection to their environment."
For more on Camille Seaman's project, see "The Gathering Storm" in the May issue of PDN. Seaman's exhibit "The Last Iceberg" is on view at Richard Heller Gallery in Santa Monica and OpenShutter Gallery in Durango, Colorado until May 30, 2009 and at Hoopers Gallery in London until July 3, 2009.