Memorial Day - honoring our fallen heroes

Streak of light

So who needs daylight when you have a flashlight. In fact, the mountain laurel, state flower of Connecticut and Pennsylvania, is actually easier to photograph after sundown as it is so brilliant in direct sunlight. Even though it was the end of the day at Murray Pond, I just could not put the camera away, but it was so dark, I couldn't see. So, I focused the camera manually, held the shutter open, and ran the beam of my flashlight across the blossoms. We call it the "Versace" effect, named after Vincent Versace, a photographer who is a master at creating light flows in otherwise plain images.

"It's not about you, it's about me."

Have you ever heard someone say, "It's not about you?" Try telling that to a swan. So regal, so dignified and so proud. It seems all he does is stop and reflect . . . on himself.

We found him paddling around at sunset yesterday on Murray Pond, in Killingworth CT, as we were doing some preliminary shooting at a new workshop location. The pond itself is about ten acres and is surrounded by a wonderful private nature preserve on which we have scheduled three photography workshops so far this summer.

Serenity

This still life in the window of a local historic landmark just pulled me in last week. It was late afternoon and the home was closed to visitors for the day, but I was struck by a feeling of serenity as I walked around outside looking in trying to get a glimpse of the past. The round vases and the books framed in the shadow of the late afternoon sun offered a brief respite. But as I looked, I found myself looking out the window on the other side wondering what was beyond the otherwise unlit room. It was a beautiful home and I'm sure the original owners often looked out the same window more than 250 years ago wondering what was ahead.

While so many changes in technology, culture and lifestyle have occurred since this home was built, we can still appreciate the serenity offered by a still life in an empty room, wondering what's ahead, and yes, what mysteries lie beyond the second window. We just need to take time to stop and look.

C D B

D B S A B-Z B. O, S N-D!

No, I haven't lost it. I mean, why spell it out when sounding it out makes so much sense? I didn't remember William Steig's classic 1968 children's book, CDB, but Lois did. I had enough trouble reading real words without trying to decode letter sounds.

Bees at dusk are amazing creatures as they buzz from blossom to blossom feeding on nectar and gathering pollen before they go home for the night. Although they can reach speeds up to 50 m.p.h., their daily routes are less than twenty feet from their hive.

I guess it's like taking a Ferrari around the corner to buy a quart of milk. All that speed and no place to go.

Big wheel.

Do you know someone who thinks they are a big wheel? Take them to the Danbury Railway Museum in Danbury, Connecticut. We held a photography workshop there this past weekend and I wanted to show how to put things in perspective. However, the kicker is that this is one of Lois' shots. So who is putting who into perspective?

The Peony

Is it any wonder that the beautiful, yet simple, peony has been a mainstay of oriental art for more than a thousand years? Named after Paeon, the physician of the Olympic gods, it was used to treat cramps, gout, asthma, remove curses and prevent insanity (If only it were that easy!). Naturally the peony became very popular when the Europeans introduced it to America in the 1800s.

And you thought it was just another late spring flower.

Still motion

I love to photograph people doing what they love to do. Whether a musician, jeweler, dancer, actor, carpenter, stonemason, or in this case, a race mechanic. Some are more nervous than others, but eventually they get into their "zone" and don't even know I'm there. As they get absorbed in what they are doing, I get absorbed in what I'm doing and begin to watch for the gesture, the motion of the action. If it's posed, it's static. The muscles don't flex and the fingers have no life to them. It's like watching a poorly shot commercial with a bad voice over. You just know the real sound is different.

So it is with a photograph, without the action, there is no reaction. When it's done right, there's emotion in the motion.

Raindrops on . . . branches

So when you live in the woods and it's raining, what do you photograph? Drops. Our ace tv weatherman was right on the mark with this forecast as it has been raining steadily for most of the day. But raindrops are really quite beautiful. Their round shape refracts light in a magical sort of way. When they are out of focus, they resemble streetlights glistening on a foggy night. But when they are in focus, they just keep building in size until they can't hang on anymore, and then they fall to the ground to leave room for the next one.

Although the drops in the background eventually fall, too, we don't notice them so much, because our attention is held by the one in focus, the one that all the others look to, the one that has it all together, or does it?

Now, not to go out on a limb or anything, but which one are you?

Big wheel, little wheel

The penny-farthing, or more appropriately "the boneshaker," grew in popularity in the late 1800s. The larger the front wheel, the faster it could go. But regardless of the size difference, both wheels were necessary. The downside of course, were the cobblestone streets and no brakes, hence the name, "boneshaker."

Like a lot of things, I see people when I see the penny-farthing. Some people are big wheels that require a lot of spokes. As the wheel rolls along the road, the spokes that actually carry the load are either stressed or compressed as they alternate between pushing and pulling the load. Then there is that little wheel in the back that is so necessary to maintain the balance and stability of the big wheel. It may be smaller and have fewer spokes, but is so vital to the integrity of the bike.

Do you think of yourself as a big wheel, a little wheel, or spoke in your organization. Who is sitting in the driver's seat pushing the petals and turning the handlebar? Are you a spoke in the big wheel ready to take the weight of the driver as he or she makes the next turn, or are you a little wheel who will dutifully follows the big wheel adding stability and integrity, regardless of the direction? Who spins your wheel anyway? Where do you fit in? Think about it.

The amazing sunflower

Sunflowers always seem bright and happy as they twist and turn to follow the sun through the course of a day. Sometimes we see a few along the road, but occasionally we find a whole field of them. We found one Pennsylvania corn farmer who, instead of letting a fifty acre field go fallow for a year, planted sunflowers. From a distance it glowed, but as we go closer, we could see probably millions of individual blossoms that were all the same. Yes, sunflowers are all the mathematically consistent in structure. Other than the shape of their petals, they are identical.

Perhaps that's why we feel such a sense of peace when we see a sunflower. Its beauty is unchanging and predictable, year after year.

Noon shadows or moon shadows.

So often photographers put their cameras away at midday. The warm light of dawn is gone and shadows shorten. For many, it's time to do something else until the sun gets low in the sky when the shadows lengthen and the warm light reappears as sunset approaches. But God gave us the sun to light the whole day and the moon to light the night so let's use them both while we have the opportunity.

For example, the sharp shadows of the wrist straps with their red keys wouldn't be the same at dawn or dusk. It's the short sharp shadows of the overhead light, whether sun or moon, coupled with the deep cold blue that makes this image work. After all, moonlight is only reflected sunlight, and great photography is all about managing the image before you with the light above you.

Nuts & bolts

My dad was one of those engineer types who liked to keep things in order. Me? Not so much. He used to have a cabinet of about a hundred oak parts drawers to hold what I would call "miscellaneous stuff" in the basement, that is now in my garage. Of course to him they were full of parts and other useful hardware like nuts & bolts. When he wanted to be left alone, but felt I needed something orderly to do, I would be sent to the basement to sort "stuff" like nuts & bolts by size. I would carefully slide each one into a machinist's gauge and those above a certain size would go into the "large nuts & bolts" drawer and those below into the "small nuts & bolts" drawer. Once I got them all sorted, I thought I was finished, but no, next he wanted me to match the nuts & bolts to keep together in the drawer.

The other day, I dumped the large nuts and bolts drawer onto a table. Somehow many of the nuts and bolts had separated. They were spread out across the vast white expanse like old friends that haven't seen each other in a while. Over time, they just lost touch with each other.

Now that he's gone, there's a part of me that wants to get out the gauge, sort the nuts & bolts and put them back together again, but not so much. I'd rather photograph the disorder for my own posterity and leave the sorting to the next generation.

Tusk, tusk.

This really is up close and personal, but I have to wonder, where are the teeth, teeth? Perhaps if I had only gotten in closer for a "Jonah" shot, I would have found them tucked away behind the gums, but I guess then I would have been on the inside looking out. However, I have since found out that elephants only have molars, in fact six sets of molars throughout their life. When one set wears out, the next one grows in. We only get two sets and have to buy the rest.

Framed art . . . no, Russ Framed.

Ok, so today I framed Russ, a big Italian landscaper, with a Cuban cigar and a Hawaiian shirt. It turned out to be an out-of-the ordinary portrait of an extraordinary guy. Fortunately, he loved it, or else he would have wrapped the fifty cent frame around me.

Framed

I have found that choosing the right frame for a picture is about as much fun as picking wallpaper, which is why all our walls are painted. I have found it more fun to take a frame with me and shoot until I find just the right picture for it.

So, over the past few years, we (that's editorial for "I") have been buying those large ornate frames that are the last items to be sold, or often given away, at tag sales. You know, the gawdy, over-gilded, tarnished frames that are chipped or cracked and have more screw hooks and wires in the back than the local hardware store.

As my inventory approached the clutter stage, I began overlapping my prized collection across the wide mantle in our studio. I told Lois it was a new art form. She bought it, and they stayed.

Train of thought

Our train of thought is focused on our next workshop scheduled for May 22, at the Danbury Railway Museum in Danbury, CT. We spent some time there last week scouting it out and getting some promo shots like this one.

It will be interesting to see the juxtaposition of old railroad cars and equipment from the past with the latest in today's digital camera technology. These trains rode the rails in the days of box and brownie cameras, instamatics and Polaroids. Our parents quietly added up the cost of each print as we took one picture after another and burned our fingers changing flashbulbs.

Now, as we prepare to visit the past, we think nothing of shooting a hundred or more images in less than an hour on our digital cameras. It doesn't mean they cost less, it's just that the technology just makes it easier and we really can see our pictures instantly.

You see, I still have the inexpensive, low-tech box and brownie cameras. It's the film and processing that's expensive, if you can find it. But the expensive "high tech" camera I bought five years ago is like an old pullman car sitting on a sidetrack somewhere waiting for a museum to clean it up so people can look at it and wonder how anyone could have used it.

Find a photographer

In our world of acronyms, professional photography groups like to promote their proprietary FAP, or "Find a Photographer," service that lists photographers by style, category and geography. But in this picture, it's more like "Where's Waldo," or perhaps WOP, "Where's our photographer."

Normally, photographers wear black to minimize reflection and hopefully allow them to be less obtrusive, but not this time. Lois opted for a bright green vest as we shot at the flea market. So what started as a cool image of a bunch of flatware ends up being a game of FOP, or "find our photographer."

Take a good look and FOP. We found her seven times. How many can you find?