Aaron Palmer whips up sparks with flaming whisk to create steel-wool photography

Aaron Palmer's favorite photos to take are of wildlife.

So when the sun went down on a recent day, it wasn't surprising to find Palmer along the banks of the Mississippi River with his camera.

The lens of his Canon 70D, however, was focused on him for a self-portrait of sorts, but ready to capture something not entirely tame.

Palmer, positioned on a concrete ledge surrounded by water, asked the three other photographers in attendance and his girlfriend, who stood by his tripod-mounted camera, whether they were ready.

They were.

Palmer holds a bag of steel wool for a demonstration of steel-wool photography by the riverwalk June 2.Andrew J. Whitaker

Palmer took a 9-volt battery out of his pocket and pressed it against a fine piece of steel wool, placed inside a whisk connected to a dog leash. The arcing between the negative and positive terminals sparked the wool, and Palmer quickly began to fan the flame by swinging the shortened leash in circles.

Sparks began slowly, but as he picked up the intensity of the gyrations, so did the display.

While five cameras were focused on him, there was no paparazzi-like firing of shutters during the 30 seconds of orange sparks, which looked as if they were being spewed from a grinder's wheel. The only sound was the whooshing of the flaming whisk.

The bright glow burned out quickly, and Palmer dipped the heated metal into the water and walked back off the ledge to the photographers, who were examining images displayed on the backs of the digital cameras.

Each captured a ring of light at the center of a weeping willow of fiery traces, captured from an exposure that lasted around 20 seconds.

Local photographer Aaron Palmer gives a demonstration of steel-wool photography June 2.Aaron Palmer ~ Special to the Southeast Missourian

It's called steel-wool photography, and it creates dramatic images.

"Lot of times, when you see something, and you just sit and stare at it, and you think, 'How in the hell did they do that?'" said Leo McElrath, who captured his first steel-wool image at the small gathering, sparked by a Facebook post by Palmer.

"I came because I've seen the finished product of this, but I've never seen the production," said McElrath, a longtime amateur photographer.

Palmer, who works for the city of Cape Girardeau during the day and is a self-taught photographer on the side, puts on such an exhibition every so often. Sometimes it's for fun, other times to share the technique with curious shutter bugs like McElrath.

"Somebody mentioned it one time, so I kind of researched it a little bit and just started practicing at it and trying different things," said Palmer, who said he got into photography about five years ago. Like steel wool, it's been a passion that has been burning bright ever since.

Local photographer Aaron Palmer gives a demonstration of steel-wool photography June 2.David Patterson ~ Special to the Southeast Missourian

"I see things different since I started," Palmer said. "I pay attention more. Something as simple as leaves on a tree, I never paid attention to those before. Now I look at them, and go, 'Oh, look at that leaf. That leaf is different from those 20 other leaves,' and I'll take that photo."

While he loves to shoot wildlife, he said he likes to change things up, hence the intrigue with steel wool.

Friend David Patterson, whom he first met on a morning sunrise shoot at Cape Rock about four years ago, said he's attended five or six of Palmer's steel-wool shoots.

Patterson was drawn into photography about six years ago through an affinity for storm chasing and fell for capturing images of lightning, which has something in common with steel-wool photography.

"Anything long-exposure, I'm pretty much into," Patterson said. "Definitely night, long-exposure."

Local photographers David Patterson, left, and Aaron Palmer set their camera settings for steel-wool photography June 2.Andrew J. Whitaker

Patterson said he's spun the wool-filled whisk once but is content to leave the pyrotechnics to Palmer so he can focus on the image.

"It's not the safest thing to do because you got hot metal dropping," Palmer said. "When those pieces drop on you, they don't just fall off you. It kind of sticks to you and just burns till it's done. There's a risk."

That's why his No. 1 recommendation, which he stresses heavily, is having plenty of water nearby. A smart choice of location is just as important, with an avoidance of dry areas.

His favorite spot for steel-wool photography is below the overlook at Cape Rock Park when the river level is low, which allows for a cascade of sparks down the rocks.

"Once the sparks start dropping, they kind of stair-step down and spider out," Palmer said.

Palmer flashes a light to be used for a focal point for a demonstration of steel-wool photography June 2.Andrew J. Whitaker

Palmer has tried more conventional approaches, such as sparklers, but said it's basically light painting and does not produce the full imagery of steel wool.

The artistic technique allows Palmer to explore manual settings, the only mode he uses on his camera.

"Auto is good for beginners, but sometimes auto won't give you your best shots, sometimes," Palmer said. "At least in full manual, you're in charge of your shutter speed, your aperture, your ISO (light sensitivity), everything. Whereas auto just picks it for you, what it thinks it should be doing."

In steel-wool photography, which obviously shows best in dark conditions, the ISO is turned down as low as possible, preferably to 100, to allow for a longer exposure time.

"I try to run everything as low as possible," Palmer said, noting it usually takes a trial run each time to get the settings correct.

Palmer sets his camera settings on a tripod for a demonstration of steel-wool photography June 2.Andrew J. Whitaker

On this occasion, he found his best results with a 100 ISO, an f/13 aperture setting and exposure time of 20 seconds.

Other parts are trial and error, too.

"I learned you don't put the wool and battery in the same pocket," Palmer said with a laugh. "I learned that the hard way."

jbreer@semissourian.com

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