Kathmandu street art

I was struck yesterday by a series of truly stunning “Street Art” or graffiti photographs by in Kathmandu by BBC photographer  Richard Fenton-Smith. As in America graffiti of this sort is officially illegal and is a fairly recent phenomenon on Nepal’s capital city. Lovers of Keith Haring are sure to be delighted by these images, which wonderfully combine the modern with the traditionally mythic.  Consider for instance this image of the Hindu Cyclops deity Bishnu reclining with his IPhone by Deadline or the deity Bhairava, Lord of Destruction, with his own can of spray painting, this a collaborative effort Sadhux, Deadline, and #H11325.

This kind of art, photographs of paintings, raises the significant issue of which is the art, the painting or the photograph.  I believe that the answer is both.  The photograph, drawn obviously by color and form, chooses the details to concentrate on and chose the context in which to take the photograph, dramatically, for instance, in this image which juxtaposes street art with street dog.  The photograph in this case is derivative art, a reinterpretation of the original theme. And besides we have to be grateful to Mr. Fenton-Smith because otherwise most of us would never have seen these images.

Reassuring moments in physics #1 – it’s alive, mini-eskers in the melting ice

A few days ago I talked briefly about thermal vortexes forming domains in coffee cups. People may think that I’m crazy, but for me there is something very reassuring about physical phenomena in everyday life.  You see something strange, something really cool, and then you recognize the fundamental science behind it.  That is very cathartic.  All is right with the universe and Newton’s equations.  Often it is cool enough to warrant a few photographs.

Today I was out for a walk, looking down, and I suddenly saw these little shadows appearing and scooting under the melting ice.  It was really neat, and I realized that what I was looking at were little pools of water collecting and then looking oh so like living things. Yet it isn’t magic, just driven on by a combination of gravity and surface tension.  There were visions adncing through my head of Jeff Goldblum in Jurassic Park seductively explaining Chaos Theory to Laura Dern.

So I pulled out my ever ready IPhone 6 and took a little movie of the phenomenon for you.  How’s that for high tech?  Some of you may recognize that this is not all that dissimilar from what are referred to as glacial eskers in geology.  These are rivers or streams that form under glacial ice as it melts and they leave behind gigantic trails of debris. They are common features of the New England landscape, which once was buried under a mile thick blanket of snow and ice.  I guess that this puts this years snowfall record in a different light.

The white rose

A year ago this February I posted about the discovery of the remains of Richard III.  It was so remarkable that I allowed myself a little deviation from photography.  Richard’s death market the end thirty year long War of the Roses, and while Shakespeare was not so kind to Richard history has been taking a turn in his favor.  Well this week we get a whole new set of photographs that I never expected to ever see. Knights “in shining armour” standing guard at the funeral procession (Sofia Bouzidi for Cater News) and perhaps most touching of all is a photograph by Will Johnston showing showing Emma Chamberlein of the First Aylestone Brownies placing Richard’s crown upon his casket.  20,000 people have viewed Richard’s casket at Leicester Cathedral, and he is to be re-interred today.

Richard III’s DNA was identified based upon the DNA of  Michael Ibsen, a Canadian-born cabinet-maker from Paddington in London, Ibsen is a descendant of Richard III’s sister Anne.  In a tender twist, Mr. Ibsen was chosen to construct Richard’s coffin (Suzanne Plunket fro Reuters).

Perhaps this burial of Englands last Plantagenet king represents an unexpected but final conclusion of the War of the Roses.

“Prick not your finger as you pluck it off

Lest bleeding you do paint the white rose red

And fall on my side so, against your will.”

William Shakespeare, Henry VI, Part One, Act 2, Scene 4

Alexei Leonov

Figure 1 - Video image from NASA of the first space walk by Soviet Cosmonaut Alexei Leonov on March 18, 1965.

Figure 1 – Video image from NASA of the first space walk by Soviet Cosmonaut Alexei Leonov on March 18, 1965.

We keep having these fifty year anniversaries, always documented with wonderful black and white photographs.  Figure 1 is from NASA and is a photograph from a television image of Alexei Leonov who on March 18, 1965 srepped out of his Voskhod 2 capsule to be the first human to walk in space. Connected to the spaceship with a 5.35 m tether Leonov was outside the spacecraft for 12 minutes and nine seconds. As he tried to return to the safety of his capsule he discovered that his spacesuit had inflated in the vacuum of space to the point where he could fit through the airlock. He was forced to dangerously release a valve in the suit to release some of the air. This is act is defining of the right stuff. At 80 Leonov is the last survivor of the five cosmonauts in the Voskhod program.

Ruskin daguerreotypes

Figure 1 -= Daquerreotype by John Ruskin and John Hobbs of Venice, c 1851. In the public domain because of its age.

Figure 1 -= Daquerreotype by John Ruskin and John Hobbs of Venice, c 1851. In the public domain because of its age.

I was excited today to learn that famed Anitquarian Bookseller Bernard Quaritch is to publish a set of daguerreotypes, “Carrying Off the Palaces” owned and many taken by the great 19th century art critic and champion of the pre-Raphaeliltes, John Ruskin (1819-1900).  Much of this work was a collaboration between Ruskin and his valet, John Hobbs. These were purchased by collectors Ken and Jenny Jacobson for£75,000 in 2006. The images for the most part were taken in Italy, France and Switzerland around 1850.

Most of the daguerreotypes that we see are portraits and subjects like landscapes and architectural details relatively rare.  In that regard many of these images are unique and in the hand of a master like Ruskin quite stunning. Ruskin was the leading English Victorian Era art critic, and as such he helped define much of what we now see as “Victorian art and sensibilities.”  But he was much more: an art patron, draughtsman, watercolourist, a prominent social thinker and philanthropist, and now revealed to have been an accomplished daguerreotypist.

Today executing a daguerreotype seems difficult and fraught with danger.  But at the time it was embraced and mastered by many Victorians.  Such was the excitement about the process and about the concept that one could “capture the light.” As we have discussed there is something truly unique and magical about the daguerreotype, an amazing level of detail and the “magical” fact that as you approach one and move your head directly over the image it disappears and is replaced with a shiny mirror.  The discovery of Ruskin and Hobbs’ work represents a major development in our understanding of the development of photography, which after all is much more than a set of scientific discoveries, but really a redefining moment in the history of mankind.

The Orange Hat

Figure 1 - The Orange Hat, IPhone photograph. (c) DE Wolf 2015.

Figure 1 – The Orange Hat, IPhone photograph. (c) DE Wolf 2015.

I recently upgraded my cell phone to an IPhone 6 and with that comes the “better” camera than the 4S. I have a love of IPhone photography.  You absolutely have your camera with you at all times, and it can be counted upon to give a reasonable image as long as the light is in the normal range.  Also, it enables you to step back into a less serious side of photography.  Figure 1 is my latest venture in this arena, “The Orange Hat.”  I have nothing profound to say about it.  Orange Hat was fun to take, no fuss no muss, and it was fun to work-up.

My mind does however, have a tendency to literary allusion.  I am forever making weird associations and this is not exception.  So I am reminded of a poem by Robert Burns (1759-1796) entitled “To a Louse.”  Well, you know lady’s hat and all. It seems that one Sunday he was sitting behind a young lady in church when he noticed a louse roaming through the bows and ribbons of her bonnet.  It was a more common thing in those days – both bonnets and lice.  It led to one of the most famous of Burns’ quotes “Oh would some Power with vision teach us to see ourselves as others see us!”  Here is the last verse in both eighteenth century Scottish and modern English:

“O wad some Power the giftie gie us                 
To see oursels as ithers see us!                        
It wad frae monie a blunder free us,                 
An’ foolish notion:                                           
What airs in dress an’ gait wad lea’e us,           
An’ ev’n devotion! ”       

“O would some Power with vision teach us  
To see ourselves as others see us!
 It would from many a blunder free us,
 And foolish notions: 
What airs in dress and carriage would leave us,
And even devotion!”

The melt

Figure 1 - The Melt, first day of spring 2015, Concord, MA. (c) DE Wolf 2015.

Figure 1 – The Melt, first day of spring 2015, Concord, MA. (c) DE Wolf 2015.

Yesterday was the first full day of spring, and I stopped along side the road to photograph this little grove of trees by a stream in Concord, Massachusetts.  My goal was to capture the sense of the spring melt.  This is what I refer to as an intimate landscape.  It is not a screaming vista but an isolated group of trees along a little brook. For me it epitomizes the wetlands of Eastern Massachusetts.  It is what I strive for in a landscape.  When I analyze my motivations I recognize that I have an ideal or standard set by the nineteenth century artist Samuel Palmer and my the early English calotype landscape artists. It is how I visualize the landscape – a soft creamy sepia tone and perhaps a just a touch exagerated sharpness so as to create a sense of an etching.  And I have come to realize that in the work of the greats like Palmer there is a key aspect of cool dampness that belies the richness and fertility of the soil, the emphasis of the landscape as a living thing

The frozen hair contest

It’s been I while since I brought you anything to potentially beat out the Wife Carry Races.  But you can rest assured that I am ever searching the web and the world for the bizarre and eccentric in human behavior and photographs.  So today, the first full day of spring, as February fades into an unpleasant and distant memory, I’d like to share this photograph of the winners of this years “Frozen Hair Competition” at the Takhini Hot Springs just outside of White Horse in Canada’s Yukon Territory.   This is something to think about the next time that you have a “bad hair day,” which is a problem that I never suffer from. I guess that the message is that no matter how cold it is, it could always be colder and you can always have fun if you simply embrace life.

The quantization of social connectivity

Hmm!  I keep coming back to a photoessay by street photographer Babycakes Romero on the BBC this week entitled The Death of Conversation that shows people not talking to one another,  instead engrossed in their cell phones. Romero believes that “Smartphones have made everyone seriously dull.” We have spoken a lot about this question on this blog as well as the related value, or lack thereof, of the myriad of cell phone images uploaded each day, and Romero’s view certainly has merit.

When I grew up in New York City years ago, if you wanted to survive on the street or the subways the key was learning to look through people indifferently and under no circumstances were you to speak to the crazy person on the train.  I had a summer job with the New York City Department of Revenue and there was this woman who would fight with herself, screaming and yelling, all the way to the Worth Street stop.  To my surprise, I was sent one day to deliver something the the “Eigth Floor” and there she was holding down her day job, while remaining a raving lunatic by night.  So abstraction is certainly a defense.  It may not so much be a rejection of other people as a protection of oneself against being rejected. And at the same time, it is reassuring that should you panic, help is just a phone call away. Your friends, your support are always there with you. My son told me that there are parties now where you leave your phone in a basket at the door and if you come back to it you pay a fine. There’s a way for enterprising hosts to make cash on the side, from friends desparate for that little blast of dopamine that comes with each text or email.

But as we have discussed previously, are we more or less connected?  Look at the people in Romero’s images.  The picture is one of self-imposed isolation.  Sure, but each one of those people is a node on a connectivity network, you know like the Borg Continuum.  If you believe in a world with six degrees of separation, then the network that each of those people are connected to is staggering in size.  In that regard, they are so much more widely connected than they would be if, perish the thought, they put their phones down and spoke to the people next to them.

The other image that Romero’s images bring to my mind is that what was previously a social continuum is now quantized into individual cells.  I keep thinking of the way that convective vortexes separate and create cells on the surface of a cup of coffee.  There are many physical systems that quantize in this way and interestingly the force behind the separation usually requires interaction between the individuals, even if it is a negative one.  A few months back I remember watching a pretty young girl at Starbucks pull out her cellphone and pose for a selfie.  It is as if to say, I am me, I am a quantum unit.  But I ask you, whom is she saying that to?  Would she have taken that selfie, made that assertion if there was no one there?

The isolation in the faces of the people in these photographs is in fact nothing new, it not only predates the cell phone, but it spans all of human history.  We are within ourselves.  There is the inner voice in constant conversation with us.  We assume, but can never be sure, that everyone else has their own inner voice.  So people are both desperately alone and desperate to be connected. Do not be fooled by the isolation.  We all still want to be noticed and loved. We all are still lonely, despite all our IPhones and selfies.