Prelude
HELLO THERE OR, IN ANCIENT ENGLISH PARLANCE, hail, what do ye, hwæt, wilcuma, godne dag, how fare ye, be thou healthy, and hāl. I thought I’d run out of pretentious greetings. Not this month. I will do my best to keep things simple for the rest of this tremendously tantalising tome. It also seems to me that a lengthy introduction is largely superfluous, so I’ll keep the preamble short and get onto the subject matter sooner rather than later for once. Wonders will cease… just not yet.
It seems that no‑one is taking heed of my passionate campaign for peace & love in the tortuous trials of 21st Century Earth, so I won’t waste any more time on it this month. It seems hate has conquered love, at least for now. Bad news for everyone. I won’t stop hoping for a better world, though, with or without people. For the sake of the 7.8 million (at least) other species that inhabit Earth, life without people would probably be a good thing.
This Month at CRAVE Guitars…
Altogether now, “Say cheese”! (NB. A phrase that first appeared in 1943, popularised by American ambassador to the Soviet Union, Joseph E. Davies (1876‑1958)). “Click!” Get the picture? This article – as signposted by the title – is dedicated to the ‘art’ of photographing vintage guitar gear. Predominantly, from the author’s perspective, that means guitars. I don’t do this from the position of a professional photographer and I don’t claim to have the skills required to produce world class photographs.
I have had an interest in photography (and art) since I was a teenager, some few decades ago now, and I am familiar with the basic principles. As a result, I am clearly not qualified to provide much in the way of hints and tips about how to do things better. This is therefore not an instruction manual! If you want a ‘how to’ guide, there are a few web sites that impart some of their dark secrets. I have no secrets (dark or otherwise), silver bullets (NB. a good thing) and no magic wand (Harry stole it). What I can do, though, is to relate my experience of photographing guitars over a number of years, and that alone may (or may not) prove insightful. As for the Zen bit of the article’s title, although photographing vintage guitars is essentially a practical application of repetitive technique, I approach creative outcomes with a certain meditative and philosophical frame of mind practiced in the here and now. I think.
I do this from the standpoint of a complete amateur trying his best to capture the visual essence of what makes vintage guitars visually so unique and desirable. For once, I’m not delving into the realm of playing guitars (I’m OK‑ishly proficient at best), neither am I exploring the sounds produced by guitars (I’m not obsessed with searching for the ‘holy grail’ of tone). This is primarily about their visual appearance. As you probably know, I enjoy the whole experience of vintage guitar gear to the point of obsession and addiction. Photographic imagery is my way to share this fascination with others. Personally, I see this as an important and integral part of my mission to spread the CRAVE Guitars’ word.
“There are no rules for good photographs, there are only good photographs” – Ansel Adams (1902‑1984)
A photo is just a photo, isn’t it? Photographing guitars is easy, right? One might think so. Guitars don’t have unpredictable human temperament (you don’t have to make them pose or smile) and they (generally) stay where you put them. There are no time constraints on any stage of the procedure (they don’t get tired or need cups of tea!). True on all three counts. As static photo models go, the methodology should prove smooth and stress‑free. As is so often the case, though, doing something well requires a bit more diligence than the basic notion might otherwise suggest.
While it may seem uncomplicated prima facie, photographing guitars well is actually not as straightforward as one might think. It’s not just a case of pointing a lens at them and the job is done. Nope. Nowhere close. To take photos with any sort of consistent competence requires time, effort and a modicum of acquired ability. To do it exceptionally, requires a highly proficient skillset (I can only assume that latter point, seeing as I cannot demonstrate such proficiency!). I believe my photographic ability lies somewhere along the continuum from hopeless to expert, probably in the area of basic competency and rudimentary adequacy. Quite possibly, my talents lie somewhere else altogether. Unfortunately, I can’t afford to pay for professional photos, so basic and rudimentary will have to do.
Despite the title of the article, this topic isn’t just about CRAVE Guitars, it is also about CRAVE Basses, CRAVE Effects and CRAVE Amps. However, it is the guitars that I am most familiar with and on which the main focus (sic!) of this article will be based.
As usual, no AI has been used for anything this month (other than the image of prehistoric Rock God that is The CRAVEman in his section near the end of the article). This month’s plentiful ‘quotes of wisdom’ are about the art of photography.
“What I like about photographs is that they capture a moment that’s gone forever, impossible to reproduce” – Karl Lagerfeld (1933‑2019)
The Rationale for the Article
Strangely, given the number of photographs I have used over the years to showcase CRAVE Guitars, I think this is the first time that I have ventured any opinion on the subject matter. It is time to change that apparent omission, methinks.
I have always enjoyed taking photographs right from my first Kodak Instamatic in the late 1960s up to my original Olympus OM‑2, a great go‑to 35mm SLR of the late 1970s and 1980s. I also took photography as part of an art foundation college course, also in the late 1970s, so I have a bit of history with it comes to taking pictures, even if only as a youthful enthusiastic lay person. Even then, my creative instincts always went beyond just taking casual point‑and‑shoot holiday snaps and I was always trying to see deeper into subject matter. The cost and inconvenience of film stock was always a limitation for me at the time. Digital photography has proved to be a revolution and a revelation, which has finally come of age. I have, in the past, used Sony and Nikon digital cameras to good effect, although I’ve never been a fan of Canon.
So… why look into the process of capturing the aesthetics of vintage guitars this month? The trigger came in feedback to a social media post of a headstock close up photo. The comment basically said, “I hadn’t noticed that in the photo of the whole guitar”. So, here we are, looking into that thought in more detail. This then led onto a series of more practical‑style close up photos of components that stood out for me. It was then a short step to thinking less about the guitars themselves and more about drawing out some of the elements that set vintage guitars apart from their modern counterparts. In effect, all I am doing is accentuating the expert industrial design that went into the creation of the instruments in the first place. I am just a middle‑man; the familiar archetypal designs have already been in existence for decades. I am just a mechanism for emphasising some of them for enjoyment.
“A great photograph is one that fully expresses what one feels, in the deepest sense, about what is being photographed” – Ansel Adams (1902‑1984)
I will state at this point that there are many, many people who take far, far better photographs than I will ever produce. However, that sad fact doesn’t prevent me from trying. My skills are very lacking and it is a frustrating exercise to produce something that I feel is barely adequate enough to share on social media and on the web site. I am not qualified or trained in the art, although I would have liked to have been. I am always keen to improve my ability, although not in a structured academic way. I like taking photographs of many things, not just guitars. I think I just about have a ‘good eye’ for images, developed more out of curiosity, rather than educated technique. I will say that taking good photographs comes from patience and persistence and has little or nothing to do with fancy photographic equipment. Good photo gear might make things easier though.
As far as I can tell, my first stab at photographing vintage guitars in a systematic way was in early c.2002 when I recorded ‘portraits’ of the guitars I had at the time, including ones that I have owned for the longest period (since c.1978), the 1975 Gibson Les Paul Standard and the 1977 Fender Stratocaster. The images predate my interest in vintage guitars and the formation of CRAVE (Cool & Rare American Vintage Electric) Guitars in mid‑2007. Here are the 2002 images, I think you’ll agree, things have moved along in the last quarter century…
At the time of writing, I do not have or use any professional photography equipment. The camera that I use is a humble iPhone, albeit the best that I can afford. My current ‘camera’ is an Apple iPhone 17 Pro Max, which I bought mainly for its camera capability, not for any other reason. To‑date, I have not supplemented the iPhone with any accessories or equipment to make the process easier or better. I currently only use natural light, as I don’t have access to any studio lighting equipment. The backdrops I use are what I have to hand – floorboards, a (too) small American flag and an old duvet cover (CRAVE’s go‑to purple satin background). I don’t have any fancy purpose‑built tripods, frames, stands, lights or backgrounds. I take hand held photos in the house’s run‑of‑the‑mill living space, nothing at all that could be described as specialised or fit‑for‑purpose. That’s it. Absolutely nothing exceptional. A lot can be achieved with everyday items and a bit of ingenuity. Photography definitely doesn’t have to be elitist and expensive in 2026. Thankfully.
“Creativity is a wild mind and a disciplined eye” – Dorothy Parker (1893‑1967)
The key for me is to create a consistent, and hopefully, easily identifiable, look. The overall presentational style is all part of the carefully crafted CRAVE Guitars brand image with all the elements intended to work in synergy. I try hard not to do anything that diverges from the core ‘brand’. I have an image (sic!) to protect after all. At this point, I have to state that all CRAVE Guitars’ photographs are copyrighted with ‘all rights reserved’ and unauthorised use of them is prohibited. Take note image thieves.
The aim of CRAVE Guitars’ photography is not to produce lasting gallery‑worthy artistic images, to record newsworthy events or to generate income. Those won’t be my legacy. CRAVE Guitars’ aim is far more quotidian; partly to document the object and partly an attempt to convey some of the object’s physical characteristics in the best possible way. If this can be done in a visually attractive way, all the better. However, the patience and discipline needed to obtain the best image possible is a fundamental basis for both aesthetic and documentary photography. That doesn’t mean that one can’t have fun with reality and use a little creative expression to add ‘un soupçon du je ne sais quoi’ to complement the basic pictures once in a while.
“All the technique in the world doesn’t compensate for the inability to notice” – Elliott Erwitt (1928‑2023)
Some Basic Photographic Underpinnings
The word photography derives from the Greek, meaning ‘drawing of light’. The modern use of the word is widely attributed to English astronomer Sir John Herschel (1792‑1871) from 1839.
The very earliest form of image projection was the pinhole camera or camera obscura and may date as far back as the 4th Century BCE in both Greece and China. The camera obscura led to the development of lenses to control focus (image sharpness) and diaphragms to control aperture (amount of light entering the camera) in the 16th Century. The box‑type camera obscura was used as the basis for experimentation in the development of the first photographic cameras.
The photographic process depends on two basic steps; the first is to use a device to expose an image onto a light sensitive surface, while the second is to develop and fix (store) the image permanently. Those basics have held true from the earliest experiments to today’s technologically advanced digital cameras.
The earliest surviving photograph dates to 1826, captured by Nicéphore Niépce (1765‑1833) using a process called heliography. It was Louis Daguerre (1787‑1851) that developed the first commercially available photographic plate process, the daguerreotype. At the time, all images captured were monochrome. Photographic film became available from 1888, invented by George Eastman (1854‑1932). The first mass‑market Kodak Brownie camera appeared in 1901. Colour photography, invented by Auguste and Louis Lumière, was made commercially available in 1907. Colour slide film was introduced by Eastman Kodak with Kodachrome in 1935 and Ektachrome in the 1940s. Kodak discontinued slide film production in 2009 following the rise of digital photography.
While the first digital image was produced in 1920, digital photography really began with the development of the charge‑coupled device (CCD) invented at the Bell Laboratory in 1969. A CCD was used to capture images electronically and store the resulting file in computer memory. The CCD provided the archetype for today’s digital camera sensors, which now use active pixel sensors (APS) developed by Olympus. It wasn’t until 1986 that Kodak developed the first megapixel (one million pixel) solid state image sensors, with Nikon leading the innovation.
While CMOS (Complementary Metal Oxide Semiconductor) is the current sensor of choice (in 2026), the future of digital photography may lie in ultra‑high performance ‘gigajot’ QIS (Quanta Image Sensor) able to resolve down to a single photon of light.
Digital photography has led to global democratisation of electronic imagery in the 21st Century. An example of this is Google Images. It has also been a stimulus to so‑called ‘citizen journalism’ – ordinary individuals reporting news events to a mass audience without being a formal press journalist. Digital images are now the standard form of photographic process in 2026.
There are basically three general forms of professional photography:
- Photojournalism – documenting important cultural, political and social stories and events for posterity
- Commercial photography – marketable commissioned products for business and private clients
- Art photography – translating an artist’s vision and creativity for aesthetic appreciation
There are plenty of sub‑genres of photography, many of which overlap and merge. Familiar examples include: portrait, wedding, landscape, wildlife, macro, abstract, street, travel, lifestyle, product, fashion, advertising, event and scientific photography, amongst many others. These sub‑genres are generally specific and exclude the whole raft of everyday family and holiday snaps. It is the diversity of styles that makes photography such a popular pastime for many people around the globe.
In addition to the professional types, the vast majority of photographs are taken by hobbyist amateurs and are generally for reminiscence and nostalgia, rather than for profitable or artistic ends. CRAVE Guitars photography probably fits in this broad catch‑all category. I do, however, try hard not to produce a multitude of below‑par run‑of‑the‑mill images. Any merit in CRAVE Guitars’ images is for others to judge.
Some of the world’s best spontaneous photographs that capture an ephemeral historical moment require the photographer to be in the right place at the right time with a camera always at the ready. Fortunately, CRAVE Guitars has the benefit of being able to control and choose every step of the process. And I still get to mess up!
“To photograph is to put on the same line of sight the head, the eye and the heart” – Henri Cartier‑Bresson (1908‑2004)
The Good, The Bad and The Ugly
THE GOOD is very easy to determine and I hope blindingly obvious – good subject matter. One thing I love about vintage guitars is that they are (mostly) just gorgeous objects as well as great musical instruments. When the items are amazingly beautiful vintage guitars, it makes things simpler and I strongly believe that the guitars themselves distract from any shortcomings in my ability to photograph them. I am pretty sure that many top photographers will attest to the importance of what is being photographed more than the tools used to capture them or the skill of the person pressing the shutter release. The only saving grace is that I now have some experience behind me, which has improved the outcomes over a considerable period since at least 2002. It is an incremental improvement and not always entirely successful. A ‘good eye’ can only get one so far without needing inspiration allied to technical ability and adequate equipment in order to excel.
A look at any of the relevant magazines and Internet sites shows what can be achieved. Most of what is out there, though, concentrates on showing new guitar gear in its best light (sic!) for marketing use. Vintage guitars, simply by their existence today, show their innate character, their idiosyncrasies and their scars of a lifetime of playing music. They are far from perfect – some seem relatively untouched while others are battered and bruised. To me that variety is part of their attraction.
No two vintage instruments are identical under scrutiny. I am not in the occupation of acquiring museum‑grade, sterile examples that are so valuable that one is too afraid to use them. I love the genuine articles showing their sometimes graceful and sometimes ungraceful, genuine aging (not the modern trend of fake ‘relic’ guitars). I have said it before (many times) and I’ll say it again. I believe in the Japanese concept of wabi sabi, that something can be, ‘perfect because of an object’s imperfections’. It is that quintessence that I’m trying to capture as much as their inherent design characteristics. The guitars themselves may not be able to tell any stories but they sure bear the signs of having lived as part of many stories.
Gallery of Acceptable Images – One for the ‘good’ pile. Just about. Each of these still have issues (note the crease in the American flag!) Sometimes things work out OK and the unadulterated image outcome is, well, OK. If the image ‘pops’ and flatters the guitar, then I’ll let it past quality control. They may still not be perfect (nothing is) but they are generally… OK.
Gallery of Close Up Images – Seeing the whole guitar is one thing and is the main thing that people probably want to see most. However, sometimes, it is nice to pick out a detailed element of a guitar and make it into the main subject of a photograph. Sometimes, the details can prove fascinating and possibly overlooked within the context of the whole instrument.
“For me, the subject of the picture is always more important than the picture” – Diane Arbus (1923‑1971)
THE BAD is also relatively straightforward. Guitars are not the easiest of things to pose without it being blooming obvious that something is being used to position guitars in a way that makes the image capture easier. There are some accepted ways of showing guitars off, such as guitar hangers. These are OK but make a total mess of photographing the neck/headstock area or the instrument as a whole. Guitar stands have the same drawback, particularly getting in the way of guitar bodies. Try positioning most guitars horizontally such that the neck is not out of whack and see how tricky it is, especially so that there is nothing to make it look ‘wrong’. Even when the overall positioning is as good as one can get it, getting the right angles to photograph ‘bits’ of the guitar well can be a minefield. Try sketching a guitar at various angles and you’ll see how difficult it is to get the proportions and perspectives looking ‘right’. I would like to invent some form of contraption that could allow one to position a guitar accurately for photography while also not being visible. If there is a trick to this, I’ve missed it so far.
There are a couple of other considerations here. One is the use of natural light; one has to pick the right ‘quality’ of light. Dull but relatively bright is best to minimise intrusive contrast between highlights and shadows. Non-direct light sources generally scatter visible light photons better. Bright sunshine is too harsh for guitar photography. Too dark and the subtleties are lost. Another consideration is that ordinary shadows produced by things in the environment and/or the camera/photographer can intrude and aren’t always obvious. Sometimes, if there is a similarity of colour or contrast in the setting, the form of the object can be concealed, particularly in the darker areas. Not good when the shape of a guitar is important to the final composition. Sometimes, these things can be foreseen but sometimes it only becomes clear later on in the process. Necessary re‑shoots are a pain but inevitable.
Eagle‑eyed onlookers may spot some vintage dust in some images. I don’t have a problem with showing that these are used, played and, while well‑maintained, and are unashamed to be presented in that way. New guitars are, in my opinion, like new cars, overly pristine (yes, even the heinous ‘reliced’ instruments). “Hold the front page!” CRAVE Guitars are decades old and brandish their wear, tear, scars, flaws and tarnish proudly (even with specks of rust and dust). I’ve put this particular aspect under ‘bad’ for those who may see such blemishes as neglect and abuse. Not so. Such things are all part of their authentic vintage character, ageing naturally. It is also a bit of an intentional middle‑finger to the abhorrent ‘collecterati’ who demand perfection commensurate with their detestable dollar. Heck, people will pay good money for vintage dust!
“To me, photography is an art of observation. It’s about finding something interesting in an ordinary place…I’ve found it has little to do with the things you see and everything to do with the way you see them” – Elliott Erwitt (1928‑2023)
THE UGLY is probably the bane of all photographers attempting to make guitars look their best. Most guitars have glossy finishes or parts that reflect light. Yup, the one major thing that can make an otherwise OK photograph unusable is reflections. Given that I use natural light in an ordinary room using a hand held smart phone camera, reflections are, frankly, a complete pain in the ass. While one can try to minimise reflections (at best – they are hard to eradicate completely) using angles, it isn’t always possible without messing up the composition. Proportions can be thrown totally out – for instance ugly foreshortening or distorted angles/perspectives – all caused by just a small change in angle. Chrome or gold plated pickup covers and control plates can be a nightmare. One can quite easily miss an annoying reflection during a shoot, only to realise how bad it is afterwards. Reflections are generally of two types; one can be the light itself (bright highlights) or it can be other things in the room that get reflected in a finish. Sometimes, given my totally amateur approach, I just have to put up with some light/reflection anomalies. Look close enough at most CRAVE Guitars’ photographs and you can see lighting reflection problems. Most other things are easier to solve compared to this ugly and frustrating phenomenon. Once noticed, one cannot not see it. Non‑reflective and free‑standing gear like effect pedals and amplifiers are far easier to photograph.
Below are some montages brought together to demonstrate some of the things discussed above. As far as the ‘monstrosities’ are concerned, once spotted, one cannot unsee them and they crop up just about everywhere. For two of the examples, I’m showing ‘before’ and ‘after’ versions, so you can view the originals then they’ve been marked up to emphasise the (worst) issues, in true before & after, ‘spot the difference’ fashion.
Gallery of Monstrosities: Light Problems – This definitely falls into the ‘ugly’ category. Light is needed for photographs but light reflections should not encroach onto the subject such that it distracts the eye. I have ringed the problems, as if they aren’t already obvious.
Gallery of Monstrosities: Dark Problems – Also definitely ‘ugly’. This is the close relative of light reflections. This time, it’s not light but objects of any sort, including backgrounds that are reflected and, again, intrude onto the subject and distract the eye. Again, ringed for emphasis.
Gallery of Monstrosities: Contrast Problems – One for the ‘bad’. Sometimes, when trying to accentuate something, one ends up obscuring something else in the process. Over or under exposure can be interesting but it can also be highly irritating.
“My ultimate goal is to try to make the ordinary look extraordinary” – Martin Parr (1952‑2025)
On a Technical Note
As mentioned above, a lot can be achieved with a little. Overcoming the hurdles of the good, the bad and the ugly is one thing. However, so far, everything has been up to the point of ‘pressing the shutter’ and the image is captured by the camera’s sensor. We are in the 21st Century and despite the enduring nostalgia for genuine film (now the pictorial equivalent of vinyl records), we are generally talking about digital photography here.
One of the huge advantages of digital photography is that one can take unlimited photos and review them instantly, discarding the obviously bad ones and retaining the best. Digital is also cheaper per image than film can ever be. Another big bonus of digital photography is that it makes exposure so much easier than in the old days. Things like automatic shutter speed, aperture, ISO sensitivity, depth‑of‑field, under/over exposure, etc. are less critical than they once were, making it harder for people to take a ‘bad’ photograph, at least as far as exposure goes. In this case electronic automation can be a blessing. It does, though, make it harder to raise the bar, which I endeavour, albeit falteringly, to achieve.
One thing that I have learned is to see (not look at) what needs to be incorporated and what needs to be omitted long before one picks up a camera (phone), which includes not only the objects in the frame (foreground and background) but also what is in the environment that can impact on the result. Once one learns to see and visualise the outcome, then that is the time to pick up the camera.
A great deal is made of camera sensor resolution. In reality, it isn’t just the number of megapixels that matter, it is the quality of the lenses, the way that the circuits process the image including things like focal length, dynamic range, image cropping, focusing, tracking, ‘shutter’ speed, contrast, sensitivity, noise, colour accuracy and compression. Digital zoom is just horrible, a good physical zoom lens is so much better. In old school 35mm photography a standard focal length lens is 50mm. Less than 50mm is wide angle, more than 50mm is telephoto. For guitar photography a slight telephoto focal length equivalent to 70‑80mm is ideal, essentially the same principle as for portrait photography.
Higher pixel count means larger file sizes, which can be an issue for social media and web pages. As things stand in 2026, a 12 megapixel image is more than good enough for general efficiency and efficacy. A 24 megapixel or higher image is better where fine detail and/or large image sizes matter. Unprocessed RAW images (so‑called digital negatives) are not a priority in this context unless one is aiming to produce professional standard results. As a rule, you can’t add in pixels that aren’t there in the first place, so it makes sense to adopt the best sensor resolution possible for the task at hand.
“If your pictures aren’t good enough, you’re not close enough” – Robert Capa (1913‑1954)
Post‑Processing
One unavoidable and essential aspect of the photographic process in the 21st Century is digitally altering an image after it has been taken. In the olden days, it used to be done in a darkroom with limited facilities for creativity. Digital post‑processing can be a wonderful creative tool. It can also be an image saver if some unforeseen artefact wasn’t picked up in the shoot. However, it can also easily be a potential disaster area in the making. Nowadays, many people snap lazy images and then spend hours using software in an attempt to recover something from a bad photo and, in some cases, they then go on to make it even worse! A central tenet of quality assurance is, ‘get it right first time, every time’ (GIRFTET). Adopting a GIRFTET method makes everything that follows much simpler. Such an approach reduces errors, improves quality and consistency, shortens process time, and enables continuous improvement.
Post‑processing, to me, falls into two broad categories; the first as a functional tool to fix minor errors and correct small artefacts, and the second as a creative tool to effect the whole image intentionally and to change it substantially from the original. One thing to consider, is that it is a very, very good idea to keep the original unaltered image and then work on a copy as, once an image has been bastardised, it can be very difficult to revert back. Keeping an original copy means one can easily start over if need be. Following a step‑by‑step methodology also helps – varying too much in one go is a recipe for a mess.
Once the image has been captured and stored, it can easily be transferred to a laptop and, if necessary, manipulated in photo/graphics software to make it more usable. Once again, I don’t have professional software to manage and/or manipulate digital images of guitars. Popular packages such as Adobe Photoshop or Corel PaintShop Pro are available to those who want to pursue post‑processing seriously. For me, I can’t justify the subscription investment in terms of either funds or training. I use simple ‘free’ graphics software called, Paint.net. It isn’t the most sophisticated toolkit but it does most of the basics well enough.
“It is an illusion that photos are made with the camera… they are made with the eye, heart, and head” – Henri Cartier‑Bresson (1908‑2004)
In the old days of film, darkroom manipulation required a whole extra level of skill, as well as the need for a dedicated darkroom facility along with the equipment, materials and chemicals needed. Image editing software means that a ‘laboratory’ is no longer a prerequisite for image production. Digital editing simplifies, speeds up and reduces the cost of preparing a digital image for sharing electronically. Thankfully, picking up the software skills are only costly in terms of time and tolerance. For an amateur like me, technological progress here has proved to be a wonderful thing.
There is, however, one fundamental issue that I have with the whole idea of digital image post‑processing and that is that it can often be seen and used as a cure‑all for bad photography and a temptation to mess around with an otherwise OK image. I am very firmly of the belief that the basic principle of ‘rubbish in/rubbish out’ applies. Take a good photograph and it should need a lot less manipulation after the fact. Take a bad photograph and no end of messing around with it is likely to improve it to a condition that is acceptable.
“No amount of toying with shades of print or with printing papers will transform a commonplace photograph into anything other than a commonplace photograph” – Bill Brandt (1904‑1983)
With a bit of practice, effective post‑processing can become second nature. At its simplest, this can be judicious cropping an image that is less than ideal in composition. Another learning point… cropping an image to improve composition can be rejected by social media platforms like Instagram, as it doesn’t like non‑standard aspect ratios. Editing can also prove useful in cleaning up tiny blemishes that might have been missed in the original photo shoot (usually cat fur in the CRAVE household!). However, coming back to ‘the ugly’ above, it is almost impossible to eradicate bad reflections effectively. Similarly, dealing with colour imbalance can be a nightmare, having to use software to manage contrast, brightness, hue, saturation, highlights/shadows, exposure, colour temperature, tint, hues, RGB, etc. It is very, very difficult to resolve fundamental issues unless one spends a great deal of time becoming proficient. Like many guitarists, I prefer to be playing guitars rather than fiddling around with the finer points of image editing software (and I have a professional background in IT as well!)
There are a lot of creative tools in image processing software these days. If the intention is not to create accurate images but to produce artistic effects, then image manipulation can be a great deal of fun. Sadly, I don’t have enough time to explore the full range of effects for CRAVE Guitars but there are some series where I push images to be pleasing to the eye rather than a forensic representation of the physical object. For instance, I do this for CRAVE Guitars’ Instagram series of images. I also use them for some close ups. Given the subject matter, creative effects are the exception, rather than the norm. At its simplest, creating a black & white or sepia version of a colour image is easy, as is adding a vignette or some sort of digital filter. It is preferable to do as much ‘in camera’ and as little in image editing as possible. I would like to do more in the way of creative ‘artistic interpretation’ one day.
Gallery of Post‑Processed ‘Creative’ Images – Sometimes it’s nice to play in the sandpit of digital image manipulation to create something that is perhaps more appealing to the eye than it is to catalogue and archive reality. This is where image editing software comes in. It isn’t a priority but it is something I’d like to explore more.
Other things that I would like to experiment with is to create videos of the instruments to allow people to see them from different perspectives. Another thing that I would like to explore at some point is photogrammetry, using overlapping HD images to create a 3D digital model of the guitars. Both of these would add a complementary approach to standard 2D images. One of the drawbacks of making videos or 3D‑modelling is the aforementioned issue of posing the guitar without obstruction. Essentially, though, the sky is the limit, only constrained by practical considerations and lack of creative imagination on my part.
“Photography is a way of feeling, of touching, of loving. What you have caught on film is captured forever” – Aaron Siskind (1903‑1991)
Final Thoughts on Zen and the Art of Vintage Guitar Photography
My main effort as far as photography is concerned is to produce straightforward acceptable images for use on the website and on social media. That is the bulk of my activity. In addition to the stock CRAVE Guitars photographs with the familiar purple satin background I also produce other series of photographs that don’t appear on the website and only selectively on social media (e.g. ‘flag’ and ‘floorboard’ pics).
“If you don’t have anything to say, your photographs are not going to say much” – Gordon Parks (1912‑2006)
One of the reasons for documenting vintage guitar gear is to record them at a point in time for posterity and an attempt to represent the gear in the best way that I can in that moment. There are other benefits, such as security. In the event that something horrible should happen, for instance damage or theft, there will be plenty of detailed evidence of each and every item. It would be difficult to pass off any CRAVE Guitars without them being easy to identify from available proof of ownership.
Only some photographs make it onto the web site, the minority in fact. Many others are used only on social media. Some may only appear in articles such as this one. Plenty more, probably the majority, are never seen by anyone but me. Some are documentary evidence, some are unacceptable but good enough to keep as snaps, and some were just for convenience or experimentation.
As a typical Virgo star sign, I tend towards being a bit (?!) of a pedantic perfectionist. That is probably not a good trait for a documentary photographer, as I can always find fault with the outcome, which is highly infuriating. What others may think is absolutely fine, I see as a train wreck. Anything slightly off drives me crazy. For instance an alignment that is perhaps just a degree off horizontal when it shouldn’t be, a perspective with a vanishing point that is slightly off centre, an overly distorted foreshortening caused by a badly chosen focal length, or a distracting artefact. Out of focus images and/or poor depth of field are also particular bugbears. Ggrr. Argh. For my sanity, sometimes I have to post a photograph that I wouldn’t otherwise accept.
Regular readers will be aware of my long‑standing aspiration to turn the house’s cold, damp, dark cellar into a CRAVE Cave for the vintage gear. Part of that ambition would be a dedicated studio photography area. There are no windows, so no unsightly light aberrations.
So, in an ideal world, what would be my ideal photography set up? Well, I’d start with a decent full frame mirrorless camera with a decent tripod. I would employ professional backdrops on a dedicated frame. I would use a variety of stand‑mounted studio lights from direct lighting, soft boxes, reflectors, ring lights, etc., suitable for static as well as video photography. In addition, some sort of support(s) for positioning/manoeuvring guitars. I would also go for some quality photo/image processing software. Ultimately, though, these are just tools and, being pragmatic, I cannot justify the cost or space. They wouldn’t necessarily make the photographs any better but they could make my life an awful lot easier. As long as it doesn’t distract from the whole point of CRAVE Guitars, of course.
“Photography helps people to see” – Berenice Abbott (1898‑1991)
As seems to be the case, frustratingly, I have ambitions that extend way beyond my ability to realise them. However, that doesn’t prevent me from trying to improve my skills to showcase CRAVE Guitars’ vintage gear. I will continue to display the ‘collection’ to the best of my ability so that I can share with anyone who might have a similar obsession with these wonderful objects made of wood, plastic and metal. As ‘they’ say, ‘beauty, is in the eye of the beholder’ and ‘truth’ is therefore subjective. Oh, and do not believe anyone who suggests that, ‘the camera cannot lie’. It most certainly can.
So far, I have set things out as a technical, linear process without any emotional component. Firstly, I like looking at things, hopefully in a slightly different way from most people. Secondly, I like taking photographs of things that appeal to me; vintage guitars definitely fall into that category. Thirdly, I like sharing my passion with others and images are the primary vehicle that I use for doing so. As the saying goes, ‘A picture is worth a thousand words’ (NB. The origins of the phrase are unclear but can be traced back to several different sources between c.1911 and 1921, probably drawn from earlier, similar sentiments, meaning that complex ideas can be conveyed by an image more effectively than by a lengthy narrative description). I hope that the notion of an emotional attachment comes through not only in the pictures but also in the words that support them. Photography should be an enjoyable experience and the outcomes satisfying. If it isn’t pleasurable, it probably isn’t worth doing.
For once, I have left behind the sounds and playability of vintage guitar gear, at least for this article. That doesn’t mean that playing them and making music with them is of less significance than their looks. The aesthetic appeal is just one aspect of vintage guitar gear and it is the one way in which I can articulate my passion. Visual appeal is therefore quite an important and integral component of vintage guitar heritage. Another point is that this isn’t just about nostalgia or reminiscence, it is about a practical way of keeping these aging relics of a bygone age relevant in the modern world. Images are used to show how vintage guitars are right now, complete with all their untold back stories. They have lived many decades already and they will live many, many more, hopefully. Long after I’ve gone to that darkroom in the sky. CRAVE Guitars is, after all, just a temporary steward in their long journey.
“The camera is an instrument that teaches people how to see without a camera” – Dorothea Lange (1895‑1965)
I am a vintage guitar enthusiast first and foremost, not a photographer. The instruments are my priority. I do not think and do not imply that I am a good photographer from whom something valuable can be gleaned. I make no pretentions or claims to competence and my images, I believe, are testament to that lack of skill. My ability cannot be compared with most professional photographers, yet alone the masters of the trade. My photographs will never be revered as art but that is not what is important. However, it is an essential way for me to look and to see what it is that I am so passionate about and then to use images to tell a bit of their story to others. Ultimately, it is the vintage guitar gear that matters, not my ability or equipment; it is the beauty of the subject that, to my eye, needs to revealed and communicated.
One thing I have learnt more than anything else from feedback is an adaptation of that old adage, ‘you can’t please all the people all the time’. Share photos of the full guitars, people ask for close up images and vice versa. Share photos with some creative post‑processing and people ask for straight images. Share AI images and they want real photos. Share standard photos and they want to see/hear the vintage gear. Share something not on the web site and people say they want images already available. I try to do all of the above and people still find a way to disapprove, often vociferously, such is the toxic nature of unsocial media. Sheesh! One cannot win. It is also one of the reasons that I think social media is a necessary evil to be tolerated, rather than enjoyed. Why can’t people engage harmoniously with a contemporary community of like‑minded individuals? I have now decided to share what I want to post photographically and if people don’t like it, well, they know what they can do! Yup, look elsewhere.
“You can fool of the people all of the time, you can fool all of the people some of the time, but you can’t fool all of the people all of the time” – attributed to various including John Lydgate, Abraham Lincoln and PT Barnum
Just a word on the matter of Artificial Intelligence (AI) which, by all accounts, is the next ‘Big Thing’ that will apparently permeate all parts of our paltry presence. I am reasonably technologically‑minded and I can see both the potential benefits and potential risks of AI. I am no Luddite in that respect. AI will continue to mature in the same way that the Internet did. I think I’m on safe ground in saying that AI will find increasing traction in photography, both in digital camera electronics and in post‑processing image editing software as well as web site creation and social media. I predict that AI will ultimately result in a compromise of both good and bad, as with any other paradigm shift in human technological progress.
Oh, by the way, don’t forget that, in addition to the feature pages, there is a whole menu of picture galleries to be found on the CRAVE Guitars web site by following the link below (opens in a new browser tab):
Link: CRAVE Guitars Picture Galleries
Do I have a favourite CRAVE Guitars photograph? Tricky one that. I would have chosen an image of the stunningly beautiful 1963 Gibson ES‑330 but that had dark reflection aberrations of the sort indicated above. Then I thought of the 1968 Gibson SG Standard, the 1983 Gibson Explorer CMT. Almost there but not quite. There was the 1965 Fender Jaguar, the 1962 National Glenwood 95, the 1962 Gretsch 6120 DC Chet Atkins and the 1972 Fender Mustang Competition, even better. In the end I selected the 1972 Fender Telecaster Thinline ‘floorboard’ image. It is not on the website and I’ve only used it once on social media, so you might have missed it. The Thinline is a beautiful guitar captured in an OK image. A 100% original picture with zero post‑processing. So… here it is for your delectation. Perhaps I could have saved over 8,620 words after all.
OK. How about a least favourite? One image that shows just about every bad thing about a guitar image. There are (sadly) so many examples of rubbish photography but this one (actually on the web site!) is clearly demonstrating a job done badly. Sadly, it is only one of many. Not one’s best moment, I am embarrassed to say. Dear, oh dear.
If I do have any final words of advice about photographing vintage guitars, they would be twofold; a) A good eye is better than good equipment and, b) To produce consistently good images requires a great deal of perseverance, patience and a concentration on the subject matter. Nothing else matters. The following quote is testament to that from someone far wiser than me.
“Your first 10,000 photographs are your worst” – Henri Cartier‑Bresson (1908‑2004)
Photographs in Music
As a bit of a tenuous link to musicology, photographs and photography have appeared in many songs by well‑known artists over the years, including the 20 below, amongst many others (in no particular order):
- The Cure – Pictures of You
- A Flock Of Seagulls – Wishing (If I Had A Photograph Of You)
- Blondie – Picture This
- Duran Duran – Girls on Film
- R.E.M. – Camera
- Depeche Mode – Photographic
- J. Geils Band – Centerfold
- Neil Young – Distant Camera
- Death Cab For Cutie – Photobooth
- Wilco – Kamera
- Frank Turner – Polaroid Picture
- Johnny Cash – Send a Picture Of Mother
- Ed Sheeran – Photograph
- Taylor Swift – Picture to Burn
- Keith Urban – Polaroid
- P!nk – Family Portrait
- Ringo Star – Photograph
- Paul Simon – Kodachrome
- Def Leppard – Photograph
- Nickelback – Photograph
“Only photograph what you love” – Tim Walker (1970‑)
The CRAVEman as Prehistoric Photographer
As seems to be becoming commonplace these days, The CRAVEman has to get his fearsome Stone Age mug into the show somehow. Here he is trying his best to capture images of his precious prehistoric guitar collection, despite the (hopefully obvious) challenges. He may get the hang of it in a few thousand years’ time!
Useless fact of the month: As a prehistoric individual, The CRAVEman attempts to grapple with the technology of a Victorian bellows camera. He hasn’t yet grasped the concept of flash photography – originally using a carefully measured chemical flash powder comprising a mixture of magnesium and potassium chlorate, placed on a tray and ignited to produce a bright flash. Now we use LED flash guns. Thankfully.
“You don’t take a photograph, you make it” – Ansel Adams (1902‑1984)
CRAVE Guitars’ ‘Album of the Month’
There is no real connection between this month’s article content and this month’s album selection, so there is no point in trying to justify any sort of questionably vague link between the two. This time around, just for the joy of it, I thought I’d go for something a little different. This month’s accolade goes to…
David Bowie – Let’s Dance (1983): Let’s Dance was David Bowie’s 15th studio album released in April 1983 on the EMI record label. The album was co‑produced by David Bowie and Nile Rodgers. Bowie’s previous album, ‘Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps)’ (1980) was a hard act to follow. Typical of the Thin White Duke, he didn’t regurgitate more of the same. Oh no. A total musical transformation and a new image were well up with the prevailing zeitgeist of the time. The album comprised 8 tracks, coming in at just under 40 minutes. Four of those tracks were released as commercial hit singles, ‘Let’s Dance’, ‘China Girl’, ‘Modern Love’ and ‘Without You’, helped to a significant degree by frequent rotation on MTV’s stylised music video coverage at the time.
Bowie was never one to shy away from an unlikely creative transformation. Let’s Dance (the album) received a mixed reception and many found it difficult to categorise at the time, especially as it was a departure from what people expected from a Bowie album. Musicians included several members from Nile Rodgers’ Chic and guitar work from one Stevie Ray Vaughan. The album was toured globally in 1983 as the Serious Moonlight tour. I was fortunate to attend one such concert at the Milton Keynes Bowl in Buckinghamshire, England in 1983. The massive success of Let’s Dance was followed by a creative anti‑climax in David Bowie’s output for many years and nothing subsequently matched the commercial success of Let’s Dance.
When thinking about the staggering legacy left by the late David Robert Jones (real name, 1947‑2016), ‘Let’s Dance’ may not be amongst many people’s top albums. There are way too many excellent Bowie albums to pick just one to stand head and shoulders above the rest. The rationale for choosing ‘Let’s Dance’ is simply that it is an easy listen and, on the whole, very accessible and emotionally buoyant – making it an enjoyable musical experience. RIP Ziggy Stardust, a.k.a. Mr. David Bowie.
BELIEVE IN MUSIC!
“To photograph truthfully and effectively is to see beneath the surfaces” – Ansel Adams (1902‑1984)
Tailpiece
Well, that was a bit of an epic journey, far longer than I thought it would be. As mentioned at the beginning of this article, I can’t believe that it has taken over 100 blog posts over almost twelve years to get around to the subject of vintage guitar gear photography. When the epiphany occurred, it was a relatively easy topic to cover. I hope that there was something illuminating (sic!) for you to enjoy. I will persevere to improve my photographic skills.
“One should really use the camera as though tomorrow you’d be stricken blind” – Dorothy Lange (1895‑1965)
For once, I already have an idea for the topic(s) for next month. I just have to put finger to keyboard to compose something that will make sense. I hope you’ll return to find out what I’m planning. Let’s hope there is still a habitable world in which such an editorial can be brought to fruition.
Truth, peace, love, and guitar music be with you always. The CRAVEman, signing off for now. Until next time…
CRAVE Guitars’ ‘Quote of the Month’: “Music is like essential life blood with the heart providing the rhythm, the brain providing the melody, the blood vessels providing the arrangement and the blood cells providing the individual notes. A perfectly balanced system in synergy, created over aeons”
© 2026 CRAVE Guitars – Love Vintage Guitars.