Figure 1 – A Tribute to Piranasi, Madison, WI. (c) DE Wolf 2014.

Circumventing the interior of the Wisconsin State House I was struck by the multitude of columns, arches, and circles, by the light of the sky piercing in through the dome combined with the lamps and the atmospheric darkness.  It reminded me so much of an architectural etch by Giovanni Battista Piranesi (1720-1778).  And it was just this etching quality that I sought to capture in the image of Figure1. I think that both the toning and the graininess of the light at ISO 3200 both lend to the sense of ink.  To include as many of the architectural features as I could I used the widest lens setting I had 18.0 mm. I feel that it is almost like a bromoil print and is exactly what I wanted.

Canon T2i with EF-S18-55mm f/3.5-5.6 IS STM Lens at 18.0 mm, ISO 3200, Aperture- Priority AE mode at 1/200th sec at f/4.0 with no exposure compensation.

Figure 1 – The Last Water Lily, Olbrich Botanical Gardens, Madison, WI. (c) DE Wolf 2014.

We seem to attach special significance to the first and to the last, to the alpha and to the omega.  I’ve had an ongoing theme in this blog about photographic firsts and recently I posted about fall’s first color – and it is proving to be a very glorious fall here.  Well, we are in the thick of it now.  Fall color is everywhere, even though some hardy flowers persist.  But last Sunday on my adventure to the Olbrich Botanical Gardens in Madison, WI something struck me.

It was a chilly and grey day, with little to really remind one of summer.  There is this little reflecting pool, which now bears only the remnants of water lilies, and even these had started to turn a shade of red.  So as I stared into the dull water, I was thinking about glacial verves – appropriate since  Wisconsin has a glaciation named after it.  These are the “rings of the Earth” fine bands of sediment that once settled annually when glacial lakes froze over in winter and now turned to stone. It seemed wholly appropriate, since the water lilly, Monet’s flower, is related spiritually, if not taxonomically, to the sacred lotus a symbol of life, death, and rebirth – of the endless cycle of life on Earth.

And then I saw it, and tried to capture the feeling in Figure 1.  There was one remaining water lily blossom – still ever so perfect.  It was in essence the last bloom of a summer now past. And it defiantly proclaimed the promise of spring.

Shesha the Five Headed Cobra, Olbrich Botanical Gardens, Madison, WI. (c) DE Wolf 2014.

I held at least one sculpture photograph back from my Saturday post. This is Figure 1. Also in the Thai Pavillion of the Olbrich Botanical Gardens in Madison is this wonderful five headed cobra.  This is the first perspective that I photographed it from and it only shows four of the five heads.  I took several other images slowly progressing to full frontal with all heads shown.  But in the end I found that I liked the drama of first perspective best.

And exactly what is this an allusion to?  We have in the mythologies of the world many multiheaded beasts. There is Cerberus the usually three headed dog that guarded the gates of Hades, the underworld in Greek and Roman mythology.  Then we have the Whore of Babylon who rides the seven headed beast at the time of the Christian Last Judgment. But this, I believe, is the Hindu Shesha, (see also the Buddhist nāga) also known as Sheshanaga, who holds the universe on his hoods and constantly from all his mouths exclaims the glory of Vishnu. And most beautifully, it is said that his uncoiling is the creative event that causes time to move forward but when he recoils the universe ceases to exist.

This I think explains why there is serenity not terror in this wonderful sculpture.  The quality of stone, particularly the speckles is to me amazing. It serves to animate the serpent as it emerges from a galaxy of stars. Both in its relationship with the origin and meaning of time and its connection with stellar evolution, the Shesha seems, in my mind, to merge ancient and modern concepts of cosmogony.

Figure 1 – Bronze Leaf, Olbrich Botanical Gardens, Madison, WI. (c) DE Wolf 2014.

One of the things that I find that I love most to photograph is sculpture.  There is a certain serenity to it.  I used to think that it was a bit of a cheat.  You let the sculptor do the creative part, to find and put the emotional part into the piece.  But, of course, that is very far from the facts.  Yes, it represents a derivative art form.  However, that is merely a superficial element of the creative process. It is just a beginning. That is the very point.  It is the beginning of an enhanced experience of the piece, of a propagation, if you will, of creativity.

There are two favorite materials: bronze and stone, preferably marble. And each of these has its own special qualities.  It is the unique way that each of these interacts with light that is photographically appealing. Surprisingly, I find that a flat light is often the best, as bright light tends to create an excessive contrast. The raw materials can be a bit overwhelming, and the real appeal comes with age and patina, subtle forms of oxidation, less subtle forms of urban pollution, and, yes, even molds and lichens. These all create a defining signature to the material.

The hand of a sculptor defines a significant genesis, and the photographer augments this creation by interpreting how the piece interacts with light.  Sculpture takes a chaotic material, essentially void of form, and puts order in it.  This is the extraction of order out of random chaos and is symbolic of, indeed mirrors, both the physical and biological evolution of our own world and universe.

I am posting today two photographs that I took at the Olbrich Botanical Gardens in Madison, WI.  This is a wonderful place, created and maintained by an army of talented, creative people.  Figure 1 is a bronze leaf that children like to crawl under.  Shortly after I took this image we watched a mother crawl under it to extract a gleeful toddler.  I chose to photograph close.  The leaf gestalt is lost, but what reams is waves of bronze.  As always with such subjects I carefully worked on the highlights with a fine brush dodging tool.  The magic of bronze lies in these highlights.

Figure 2 is a stone relief that sits, as if randomly, among the flowers of the Thai garden.  The edges of the stone are cut as if to say that this is sound ruin or relic.  There is a dark patina, which I suspect is intentionally added, again to indicate or mimic antiquity.  I love this dancing figure.

In both cases the light was diffuse and dull.  It illuminates evenly and doesn’t create hard shadows.  It requires a bit of local brightening, but in the end the three-dimensional affect is there but not over whelming.

Leaf – Canon T2i with  EF70-200mm f/4L USM lens at 70 mm, ISO 1600, Auto AE-Priority Mode, 1/250th sec at f/8.0 with no exposure compensation.

Dancer – Canon T2i with  EF70-200mm f/4L USM lens at 87 mm, ISO 1600, Auto AE-Priority Mode, 1/400th sec at f/11.0 with no exposure compensation.

Figure 2 – Dancer, Thai Pavilion, Olbrich Botanical Gardens, Madison, WI. (c) DE Wolf 2014.

The blogger at the Madison Farmers Market on a cold, rain Saturday. (c) DE Wolf 2014.

I spent this past weekend in Madison, WI. Madison is a cool place. The operative words there are “On Wisconsin.” The operative symbol is the badger. And the operative color is red. Everyone is wear red badgerphrenalia. I once made the mistake of going to a Badgers Football game in my black leather jacket. There were 80,321 people in Camp Randall Stadium that morning. 80,319 were dressed in red. But in true “Fighting Bob LaFollette” progressive fashion my wife and I were not shunned.

I took a lot of photographs in Wisconsin and I’ll be posting some of them over the next week or so. But for beginners I’d like to start with this image of me this past Saturday at the Madison Farmer’s Market. It was very cold and rainy so my red layer is beneath my rain jacket, although it is still clearly visible. So Figure 1 is your intrepid blogger and photographer camera in hand and looking very serious.

Badger, badger, badger! You might wonder where all this badgerosity comes from. Turns out that the nickname refers to the lead miners, of the 1830s. These miners worked at the Galena lead mines, which is actually in Illinois. Go Figure! The Wisconsin miners lived, not in houses, but in temporary caves that they cut into the hillsides. Not altogether the most healthful of places. These caves were described as badger dens and, the miners who lived in them, as badgers.

Oh, and in 1957 the Badger became Wisconsin’s state animal. I have never figured out why every state has to have its own animal, bird, flower, and mineral. But at least it is something for school children to remember and learn. Bucky Badger is everywhere in Madison, and he definitely has determination and attitude. In the meanwhile, I was totally delighted as I explored the galleries of Wisconsin’s State House to discover the wonderful carved badger of Figure 2 glaring down at the workings of the state. Also as it turns out the gilded statue atop the Capitol of Wisconsin by Daniel Chester French, like so many of the Badger afficianados of today sports a badger cap. Actually, in her case it is a helmet. Her arm reaches forward, in homage to the state motto, which after all is just another way of saying, “On Wisconsin!”

Figure 2 – Badger lording over the Wisconsin State House. (c) DE Wolf 2014.

Canon T2i EF70-200mm f/4L USM at 70mm. ISO 3200, 1/60th sec at F/4.0 AE Aperture-priority mode no exposure compensation.  Handheld! Woot, woot!