97 books like Science for the Curious Photographer

This book is the best book I’ve found on our complex visual system and how we use it to view art. I came across it while trying to understand why some of my landscape images succeeded and others failed. Although no book can fully explain people’s preferences, I still found its insights into how we view art to be unexpected and fascinating.

Galen Rowell was, to use Galen’s own term, a phantom mentor to me as a 29-year-old freelance writer and photographer specializing in the outdoors.

The photographs, anecdotes, and insights into the craft of landscape and outdoor-adventure photography found in this book inspired me to look with more observant eyes at the beauty of the natural world and to hone the skills required to capture the magical moments I was experiencing in the wilderness.

Understanding natural light in all its varieties is crucial for a landscape photographer. This book is still one of the best books I’ve read on the science of atmospheric optics, the study of how sunlight interacts with our atmosphere.

After reading it, I understood for the first time why the sky on a clear day is blue, why sunrise and sunset lights are sometimes red, how rainbows form, and where in the sky to find them. We often fail to see phenomena we don’t understand because we don’t know where to look. Rainbows, Haloes, and Glory helped me understand natural light, which helped me appreciate the ever-changing beauty of the sky.

Over the last 10 years or so, the rapid advances in digital photography have created a whole new genre of photography: landscape photography at night. I became fascinated with the genre when I saw a slide show given by night photographer and author Grant Collier.

In an effort to master the subject, I picked up Grant Collier’s book. Grant is deeply knowledgeable on the topic and conveys his knowledge in readily understandable ways. My own photography benefited greatly as a result.

Maurice Pirenne was a physiologist who studied vision and was fascinated by the problems of how we see and interpret paintings and photographs. In this book he explains how vision works and uses his own elegant experiments to demystify perspective and visual illusion. What I especially like about this book, is that Pirenne is not content just to explain the theoretical issues, but uses his own skills in photography to explore the issues and provide vivid demonstrations. This is one of the best and clearest books, to my mind, on these tricky questions. 

This book is a lively, questioning, and comprehensive survey of American photography, from its beginnings to the present. It analyzes achievements in each of the genres, from portraiture, through landscape, to documentary, fashion, etc. It treats individual photographic artists, from Avedon to Weegee, from the views of New York taken by Berenice Abbott to J.T. Zealy’s likenesses of enslaved Africans. American Photography is always concerned to underscore what photographs have to tell us about major aspects of American culture: race and ethnicity, gender and identity, business and technology, religion, and region. It also has numerous well-reproduced images; illuminating sidebars and boxes on such topics as the daguerreotype or picture magazines; a helpful timeline; and notes on further reading and viewing. The book was expanded and retitled as Photography in America in 2015, but the first edition still holds up. 

In Flags of Our Fathers, James Bradley recounts a story not so unlike my own and many other sons born of this generation of leathernecks. James is the son of John Bradley, who served on Iwo Jima as a corpsman and was awarded the Navy Cross for his service. He also was one of the boys who raised the flag on Mount Suribachi.

Flags is the result of James Bradley’s research and interviews with survivors of the battle for Iwo Jima, after his father’s passing. At times Flags reads like an action thriller, its battle sequences authentic not only in their depiction of all the clichés Hollywood made famous in the 1950s but in its realism of the true horrors of war, and the impact it had on the survivors.

As a kid, I wanted to be Lauren Bacall when I grew up. I watched To Have and Have Not almost weekly, emulating her sultry moves as “Slim” and wishing that I too could one day undermine the Nazis in a little black dress.  

I don’t regret my choice of teenage role model, but I do wish I had known about Lee Miller back then, who would have offered a real-life example of a femme fatale fighting for good with her talents. However, rather than grit and charm, Miller used her camera to expose the true cost of fascism. 

Carolyn Burke's biography takes us on an extraordinary journey through Miller’s life—from her days as a model to her work as a war correspondent. Miller had an uncanny ability to connect with the subjects of her photographs, creating a bridge between their world and ours.

During World War II, Miller’s work… show more.

These days, you take a picture and see it right away, but when I started taking snapshots, I’d shoot a roll of film, take it down to the photo developer, and wait a day or two to get my snaps back. They always came in a photo wallet, and opening it was a big part of the ritual of finding out how my pictures turned out.

I also used the wallet to store them and still have lots of them from the 1990s and early 2000s. Annebella Pollen’s great little book takes me back to that time and shows me the evolution of those wallets over almost a hundred years, and the care that went into designing them.

Print the Legend, the product of profound scholarly immersion in archival sources, manages to both offer a wealth of totally new information on the ways photographs have represented the West and give a superior account of themes and figures already extensively studied. Paradoxically, much of its excitement is due not so much to the way Sandweiss reads the photographs themselves – though we can all learn from her in this respect – but the way she reads the written texts (what she rightly terms “the legend”) that contextualized them. I am personally much indebted to Sandweiss’ treatment of the photographers who worked for the various government surveys and, most of all, to her nuanced readings of how Native Americans were seen over time.