Glenn Randall

How to process night photography to meet our color expectations while preserving the natural hues of the stars and Milky Way.

Discover the unique photo opportunities when snow blankets this iconic national park.

Techniques to create a single image that captures the experience of this celestial phenomenon.

A turn-by-turn guide to experiencing Colorado’s spectacular fall color displays.

Can a realistic landscape photograph be creative?

We’ve all heard the sales pitch: High-dynamic-range imaging has solved photography’s last great problem, creating beautiful, realistic photographs of high-contrast scenes.

One of the insights of modern psychology is how much our preferences and decisions are driven by unconscious processes.

Of all the wonders of the night sky, the most spectacular subject for photographers who lack a telescope is surely the Milky Way.

One of the most frequent questions I’m asked by students in my landscape photography workshops is, “How do I make my HDR photographs look more realistic?”

Menacing gray clouds filled the sky when I arrived before dawn on the crest of Black Face in the San Juan Mountains near Telluride, Colorado.

Summits are magical places. Reaching the summit of a high peak gives me the exhilarating, humbling and awe-inspiring experience of being a tiny speck on top of the world.

For 18 years now, I’ve been specializing in wilderness landscape photography.

Interest in high-dynamic-range (HDR) imaging has exploded over the last few years.

Sometimes your first capture is your only capture. Blow the exposure, and you’ve blown a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You can’t bracket high-action wildlife or outdoor sports—you’re all but guaranteed to get the wrong exposure at the decisive moment.

Landscape photographers face a fundamental challenge: how to compress the broad range of light intensities typically found in the real world into the much narrower range of tones that can be reproduced in a print.

Okay, I admit it: I get tears in my eyes when I hear John Denver’s song “Rocky Mountain High.” My incurable romanticism, however, is balanced by my analytical approach to every image I photograph. The former urges me out of bed at 1 a.m. and up a 14,000-foot peak in the dark to shoot sunrise from the summit; the latter gives me the knowledge of map-reading, atmospheric optics, sunrise angles and digital capture necessary to pick the right fourteener, navigate in the dark and make compelling images once I get there. From the tallest fourteener to the tiniest wildflower, that combination of passion and analysis defines my approach to photographing Colorado.