I recently inherited my uncle’s English Besson 10-10 trumpet, a beautifully crafted instrument with a rich, resonant tone. As I started playing it, I naturally compared it to my Yamaha YTR-734, my trusted trumpet for years. While both instruments are excellent, they feel different in my hands and require their nuances to play well. This journey of comparing the two led me to dive deeper into my music and even inspired me to play some of Herb Alpert’s iconic tunes.
Watching the Herb Alpert documentary shortly after was a revelation. It wasn’t just his music that resonated with me but his philosophy about the trumpet. Alpert famously said the trumpet is “just a piece of plumbing.” This perspective stuck with me, not only as a musician but as a visual storyteller and photographer. It got me thinking about how cameras, like trumpets, are tools that amplify our creativity rather than creating art by themselves. That realization is what inspired this blog post.
The Camera and the Trumpet: Tools of Expression
Herb Alpert’s description of the trumpet as “just a piece of plumbing” applies perfectly to cameras. At their core, trumpets are pipes that vibrate with the musician’s breath, and cameras are boxes that capture light. They’re tools that depend entirely on the skill, creativity, and emotion of the person using them.
For a photographer, the camera doesn’t make the art any more than a trumpet makes the music. Both require a human touch. Mastery of technique, while essential, is only the starting point. The real artistry lies in how we see, feel, and interpret the world, just as it does with a musician interpreting a song.
Mastery is in the Details
One thing I’ve learned while playing the Besson is that the trumpet isn’t just about pressing valves. Staying in tune requires constant adjustments. When I practice scales with my tuner app, I see how much I need to adjust my embouchure and even fine-tune the first and third valve slides to keep the sound in harmony. It’s a continual refinement process, not just playing the notes but controlling them.
Photography is no different. You can’t simply set your camera to “auto” and expect every shot to align perfectly with your vision. Like a trumpet player adjusting tuning slides, photographers constantly fine-tune their settings:
- Exposure adjustments ensure the light matches the mood.
- White balance tweaks make sure the colors feel authentic to the story.
- Composition and framing require moving around, crouching, or standing high to find the perspective that brings the subject to life.
This active control, this dance between the photographer and the camera, elevates a photo from ordinary to extraordinary.
Seeing and Feeling Beyond Technique
In the documentary, Alpert shares how he learned a profound lesson from Sam Cooke. Cooke had written a song he thought was mediocre, but when Cooke performed it, he transformed it into something magical. That’s when Alpert realized that the musician’s interpretation makes the music come alive.
Photography follows the same principle. A technically perfect image—perfectly exposed, sharply focused, and composed by the rule of thirds—can still feel lifeless if the photographer isn’t emotionally connected to the scene. Great photographs don’t just show what something looks like; they reveal how the photographer thinks about what they’re seeing.
When I photograph a moment, whether a portrait, a landscape, or a street scene, I aim to infuse it with how I feel in that moment. That emotional connection is what gives an image its soul. It’s not just about composing and exposing—it’s about seeing and feeling.
Conclusion: Beyond the Tool
The tool is only as good as the person using it in music and photography. The trumpet and the camera are amplifiers for creativity, not the source of it. My uncle’s Besson trumpet taught me to respect the subtleties of the tool in my hand, but it’s my breath, my feeling, and my interpretation that makes the music.
As photographers, we must approach our cameras with the same mindset. Master the tool, but never forget that the magic happens when we see the world uniquely and connect deeply with our subject. As Herb Alpert said about his music, artistry doesn’t come from the tool but from you.
A Personal Note: Honoring Uncle Knolan
This trumpet is particularly special to me because it belonged to my uncle, Knolan Benfield, who passed away this past summer. Uncle Knolan didn’t just teach me music; he also introduced me to photography. His passion for storytelling through images shaped much of who I am today as a photographer. I wrote about him earlier, reflecting on his remarkable life and the legacy he left behind. Receiving his trumpet feels like inheriting a piece of his creative spirit, and it reminds me of the profound impact he had on both my craft and my life.