The porky American

A while back in the office, we were working on a slide to illustrate one of our biomedical device concepts and our genius artist-in-residence came up with this wonderful drawing that featured the head of the “Average Woman” based on a composite of some thirty or so actual faces.  I like to refer to this as the “Jederfrau.”  As a result I was delighted this morning to come upon an article about the work of 3D artist Nickolay Lamm featuring computer simulations of the average nineteen year old man in the United States, Holland, France, and Japan that are based on CDC published figures for weight, height, and body Mass index (BMI).  The average American man has a BMI of 28.6; the average Japanese man has a BMI of 23.7; the average man from the Netherlands has a BMI of 25.2; and the average French man has a BMI of 25.5.  So the message is obvious “too many cookies, Corduroy,” and clearly fits in well with the recent Connecticut College study showing that Oreo cookies can be as addictive as cocaine to rats. 

Lamm recently featured similar 3D renderings of the average nineteen year old American teenage girls as Barbie.  The story there is pretty much the same.  Poor Barbie keeps getting slammed for creating unrealistic body image for teenage girls. 

A missing point in all of this is our growing ability to create realistic looking 3D avatars.  Indeed, until the advent of otherworld video games and the 2009 James Cameron movie “Avatar” the word avatar referred to the descent to the Earth of incarnations of the deity, predominately in Hinduism.  This fits in well with Joseph Campbell’s view of “Creative Mythology.” Photography, movies, television, and video games represent creations of fictional realities, and our massive computing power is opening up whole new vistas of creation.

Just remember this, a kiss is just a kiss

Each year the British Army runs a photography contest and this year’s winners have recently been announced. There are a lot of intriguing and fun photos among the winners.  But I am particularly taken with this one by Sgt Adrian Harlen RLC that really raises once again the question whether it is always true that “a kiss is just a kiss.

“You must remember this

A kiss is just a kiss, a sigh is just a sigh.
The fundamental things apply
As time goes by.

And when two lovers woo
They still say, “I love you.”
On that you can rely
No matter what the future brings
As time goes by.”

From “As time goes by,” music and words by Herman Hupfeld

It was a monster mash

I guess that you have figured out by now that I am a Halloween lover.   October is a frenzy.  People are running around snapping foliage shots and people are getting ready for Halloween.  Yesterday at lunch we saw all these cute little children in Halloween costumes.  You start to realize that the key here is that people are just lovin’ it all and having fun.  They’re celebrating, first the magic of October and then the promise of the holidays.

With that in mind, I’ve done my usual survey of various “The Week in Pictures” columns and I want to share two today.  The first is a little ghoulish.  It is Carlo Allegri of Reuters picture from Oct. 10, 2013 at the New York Comic Con showing makeup artists Kamila Wysocka and Alexis Jackson from Florida in well, half zombie makeup – beautiful women looking, well, only half so good.  They are admiring someone else’s costume as they, and this is what makes the picture for me eat French fries and drink Starbuck’s concoctions. 

The second reminds us of what is coming – more fun down the line, as it were. It is Shannon Stapleton’s, again of Reuters, picture from October 9 showing an instructor at the Radio City Music Hall demonstrating pose for dancers from the Radio City Rockettes during a rehearsal for the Radio City Christmas Spectacular.  It is a wonderful example of the back to you genre of photograph, yet what an expressive back with its flexing muscles! At the same time the image leaves just a bit ambiguous what is the subject and what is the background.  The dancers facing us, and facing us would normally be dominant, are just out of focus, thus drawing our attention back to the instructor.  I love it!

 

The Agony and the Ecstasy in a digital age

I don’t know how many of you have seen the movie “The Agony and the Ecstasy” about Michaelangelo (1475-1564). Pope Julius II (1443-1513), played by Rex Harrison (1908-1990), keeps asking Michaelangelo, played by Charlton Heston (1923-2008), “When will you make an end of it [ the painting of the Sistine Chapel]?” To which Michaelangelo replys, “When I am done.” I have long marveled at the artists of the fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth centuries who could spend seven or more years on a single painting or sculpture, or the cathedral builders of the Middle Ages who took on a task that would take longer than their lifetimes.  They were all working for the ages.  And let me offer, as a final example, the fact that Edmond Halley (1656-1742), of Halley’s comet fame, near the end of his long life, began a new sky survey that would have taken him seventy-five years to complete.

In what context then should we view the world of digital photography, a world of instant gratification, that fits in so well with all of the other hurried aspect of our lives?  I have huge respect for the modern day practitioners of large format photography.  The entire art is a time consuming labor of love, where the end is only accomplished when it is finished.  Back when I was taking analogue photographs, albeit in 35 mm, the dark room was ultimately the rate limiting element.  Achievement a single decent print might be a studied two hour plus process.  The darkroom had to be setup, finally cleaned up, and you were thrilled and satisfied if the evening’s labors produced a single good print.  Printing negatives was always is, but never to be printed.  And I haven’t even mentioned the cost.  Printing was costly, and still is.  All of this, for me anyway, conspired in the picture taking process.  Do you really want to take that picture?  Will you ever print it? Will it be worth the effort and the money?

And of course, color was pretty much out of the question.  Most photoprint shops did a lousy disappointing job.  The only way to get the color that you wanted was to take transparencies.  And then what?

There was a lot of adversity in the whole process.  The great thing about Ansel Adams’ books was that they provided a method that, if adhered to, could lead to a decent and satisfying photograph.  I still have several of these silver gelatin, selenium toned images hanging in my hallway and I still pause to contemplate them.  They still elicit the memory of their production, particularly the smell of the darkroom.

Here, then, is yet another consequence of the instantaneity of digital photography.  The process, while still time-consuming, fits more comfortably into our day.  There is no setup and cleanup.  You can experiment to your heart’s content.  Printing your own digital images can still be a bit costly.  But I have found that I do not print enough to justify this cost and choose a good printing service instead.  Indeed, and I say this with a twinge of guilt, I have stopped printing all of my finished work.  Of course, the eco-minded will probably applaud me for this.

We are left with the question of motive.  Are we creating for the ages?  I believe that social media has taught us that fame and notoriety are ever so fleeting.  I create for myself.  It’s nice, of course, to share and to be appreciated by the like-minded.  We are in no position to comprehend what access posterity will have to our labors or whether and in what ways they will even care.  So it is hardly worth worrying about.  People create because that is what people do.  It is an essential element of being human.  Digital photography has just made it more accessible.

590 nm to 620 nm

Figure 1 - Autumn comes to Dean Park, Shrewsbury, MA a few years back, (c) DE Wolf.

Figure 1 – Autumn comes to Dean Park, Shrewsbury, MA a few years back, (c) DE Wolf.

590 to 620 nm is that glorious region of the electromagnet (light) spectrum that we call the color “orange.”  It is autumn in New England like nowhere else that I have lived this is a time to rejoice, to rejoice in the colors and flavors of the season.  And the quintessential color of fall in New England is orange.  Orange is everywhere, all shades of orange.  Everyone is happy and everyone is snapping photographs.  So I thought that I would celebrate the season with you and with a short photoessay that, because I am quirky, I am going to call “590 nm to 620 nm.  What I was looking for was essentially tone-on-tone images, where the composition is dramatically enhanced by choosing a vibrant color for the image.  This is the first part of a greater series of tone-on-tones that I am working on, with the ultimate intent of spanning the entirety of the visible spectrum.

The consequences of instantaneity

Figure 1 - Informal picture of the photographer at Baltimore's Inner Harbor with "Giant Crab," (c) DE Wolf 2013.

Figure 1 – Informal picture of the photographer at Baltimore’s Inner Harbor with “Giant Crab,” (c) DE Wolf 2013.

Photography is arguably the art of the instant, or at least it pretends to be.  And there are many consequences of instantaneity.  While I am not going to argue that before photography there never was an informal, candid, or comic portrait, we must conclude that photography has transformed portraiture and our concept of it.  The transformation began with the advent of the Daguerrean Parlor, when a man or woman could walk in, pay a relatively small price, and walk out with a little portrait.  As we have discussed it was the dawn of a new democratic age.  Indeed, we still wax poetically about these early portraits.  And then, of course, there was George Eastman and the revolution of the instantaneous, and often mediocre, that he created. Indeed, you could become quite impatient waiting for your prints to come back.  Hence we had the invention of both the 1 hour photoservice and of the Polaroid instant photographic system – more mediocrity for the most part.

And now we find ourselves, or have propelled ourselves, into the new age of the digital photograph, where gratification is truly instantaneous and were we, more often than not, do not even require prints.  The carbon-free age is upon us. You don’t really need to embrace any of this.  It will happily call you Minivar Cheevy and  leave you behind.

So I really encourage you to embrace it.  Lay out the years of family holiday portraits on your dining room table and marvel at the connected story and the transformation.  That’s your family, their history, their triumph.  The silly photographs of family and friends wearing bizarre hats and mugging for the camera are some of the best.  People are smiling and laughing, freed from the confines and strictures of formal portraiture – free to display their true selves.

My research group has gotten in the habit when out on scientific trips to find some kitschy icon, usually a silly statue, and photograph ourselves in front of it.  We’ve got, for instance, Big Bird at the University of Michigan’s Children’s Hospital and Snoopy from the Minneapolis Airport.  Figure 1 is our latest, yours truly sitting in front of a giant Chesapeake Crab at Baltimore’s Inner Harbor.

The selfie even frees you from needing someone else or a tripod and timer to take a self portrait.  Witness, of course, Pope Francis and the world’s first papal selfie. This is all lots of fun.  The only point that I would make is that I am a bit tired of seeing technically poor images on social media – flared images, out of focus images, improperly color corrected images.  There’s really no excuse for any of this and it is a downside of services like Instagram and of the perceived need to take the quest for instantaneity just a bit too far.  I guess that what I am suggesting is that you should strive for spontaneity but eschew mediocrity.   Digital photography, with all the automatic processing that it provides, is designed to create fabulous pictures, a little circumspection is the key.

The glory of partially diffuse light

Figure 1 - Morning light diffused through sheer curtains, (c) DE Wolf 2013.

Figure 1 – Morning light diffused through sheer curtains, (c) DE Wolf 2013.

Yesterday, I was doing what photographers do, namely experimenting with semidiffuse light.  Let’s start with a few definitions.  Suppose that you are out on a bright cloudless day.  The sun acts as a point source of light, just like a flashlamp.  As a result, you get sharp shadows, which generally translates to high contrast in your photographs.  This is nondiffuse light.  Such light sources tend to create specular reflections off  mirror like or shiny surfaces.  On the other hand, if the sun is shining through clouds the light is bounced around until it is coming at you from all directions.  There’s another way to create a diffuse light and that is by bouncing the light off a rough surface. Both of these reduce the contrast in the image.

Figure 2 - Carpet shadows, (c) DE Wolf 2013.

Figure 2 – Carpet shadows, (c) DE Wolf 2013.

So, what I’ve said is that there are two ways to diffuse or soften the light.  First, you can pass it through a scattering medium like a cloud.  Second, you can bounce it off a rough scattering surface.

Things can get really interesting when you start to work with semidiffuse light.  Yesterday, I took the photograph in Figure 1, of highly intense directional light being diffused as it passed through sheer curtains.  Notice how you can just make out some of the details behind the curtains, but that they are just a bit cloudy.  The intensity of the light and its diffusion creates a very dreamy illumination that, to me anyway, screams out “morning.”

Figure 2, on the other hand, uses light that has filtered through a forest of leaves, thus losing some of its directionality.  The shadows of the leaves and the window frame are fuzzed out.  The light is then further diffused by the texture of the carpet.  All in all it creates a very abstract sense.

Figure 3 - Morning fog at Brigham Farm, Concord, MA, (c) DE Wolf 2013.

Figure 3 – Morning fog at Brigham Farm, Concord, MA, (c) DE Wolf 2013.

Figure 3 combines both types of light.  It is an early morning scene, taken a couple of weeks ago on my commute to work.  The light is early morning light and very direct.  Notice the sharply illuminated dew on the plants.  But then notice how the morning fog diffuses the light creating dramatic sunbeams.

I am hoping that I have demonstrated the point that semidiffuse light can create very dramatic effects.  And when you are really successful these effects can be quite magical.

The International Herald Tribune

For a generation of American’s traveling in Europe, news was provided by reading the International Herald Tribune.  Today it is, perhaps, less so.  When I am in Europe these days I tune in to CNN or the BBC.  Nevertheless today marks a historic day.  Today the International Herald Tribune, after 126 years in print, starting as the Paris Herald  merges with the Global Edition of the New York Times to become the International New York Times.  This is, however, only the latest incarnation of what remains an important force in the news world but ultimately has an uncertain future.

My interest was piqued yesterday by a story by Serge Schemann in the New York Times about this transition.  What caught my eye was not so much the story as an embedded slide show of historic photographs featuring the Herald.  These are: Attilio Codognato’s photograph of Andy Warhol reading the Tribune in a Venetian Café in 1977, Raymond Cauchetier’s image of Jean Seberg in Jean Luc Godard’s film “Breatless,” Romanian Soldiers reading the December 25, 1989 edition of the Tribune announcing the fall of the Ceausescu government, and Martin Luther King reading the Tribune during a break at the 1964 Nobel Prize awards in Oslo.

Mr. Schemann sums up the transformation of the International Tribune with “The DNA of a great paper is defined by evolution of the complex and intimate interplay of reader and editor, owner and technology.”  This seems to me to be true of the story of modern photography as well.

 

Brooklyn’s Grand Army Plaza

Figure 1 - Columbia and the victories atop the triumphal arch at Brooklyn's Grand Army Plaza, (c) DE Wolf 2013.

Figure 1 – Columbia and the victories atop the triumphal arch at Brooklyn’s Grand Army Plaza, (c) DE Wolf 2013.

When I was in college, Brooklyn, NY was seriously on the wane.  It was the Brooklyn of Thomas Wolfe’s short story, “Only the Dead Know Brooklyn,” a place obscure, whose time seemed past, yet was full of a kind of vibrancy that was reflected best in its ethnicity.  I remember thinking however, about all the past glory that was so evident in its parks, public edifices, and brownstones.  And I would palpably wish that somehow time could be reversed and Brooklyn restored to its former glory.  Well, today in a sense time has been reversed.  It’s wonderful to find this somewhere other than in physics. Brooklyn has undergone and is continuing to undergo a wonderful metamorphosis.  The fact raises, even in the most cynical, one’s recognition of the important point that cities are meant to be lived in, and that it is not, a priori, a fact that they should be unmanageable.  The Brooklyn of today is an exciting amalgam, which is really what it was meant to be.

Figure 2 - Detail of Francis Savage's Neptune, the Grand Army Plaza, Brooklyn, NY, (c) DE Wolf 2013.

Figure 2 – Detail of Eugene Francis Savage’s Neptune, the Grand Army Plaza, Brooklyn, NY, (c) DE Wolf 2013.

My only regret, and I suspect that this is a minority opinion is that the Barclay’s Center never achieved the grand schemes that Frank Gehry originally envisioned for it.  I find that a major disappointment.  If in search of grandeur one has to return to the old magnificent Brooklyn.  Happily it is still there, with new life breathed into it.

Figure 3 - Detail from Eugene Francis Savage's Bailey Fountain, Felicity and Wisdon, (c) DE Wolf 2013.

Figure 3 – Detail from Eugene Francis Savage’s Bailey Fountain, Felicity and Wisdon, (c) DE Wolf 2013.

And as always, the epicenter of all of this has to be  The Grand Army Plaza.  For photographers it has to be a Mecca.  The term Grand Army can mean only one thing and this is emblazened on the top of the Soldiers’ and Sailors’ triumphal arch beneath Frederick MacMonnies Quadriga: “Defenders of the Union 1861-1865.”  The Quadriga depicts the lady Columbia, an allegorical representation of the United States, riding in a chariot drawn by two horses, while two winged Victory figures, each leading a horse, trumpets Columbia’s arrival.  Just marvelous!

The Grand Army Plaza is the dramatic main entrance to Olmstead and Vaux’s  Prospect Park.  The Plaza consists very dramatically, albeit somewhat at the pedestrian’s peril (particularly one whose mind strays away from traffic to the perfect photograph), of concentric oval rings arranged as streets.  The outer ring is Plaza Street. The inner ring was originally meant intended to be a circle is in fact Brooklyn’s major thoroughfare Flatbush Avenue.  It connects radially eight roads: Vanderbilt Avenue; Butler Place; Saint John’s Place (twice); Lincoln Place; Eastern Parkway; Prospect Park West; Union Street; and Berkeley Place.

Figure 4 - Snake planters at the entrance to Prospect Par, Brooklyn, NY, (c) DE Wolf 2013.

Figure 4 – Snake planters at the entrance to Prospect Par, Brooklyn, NY, (c) DE Wolf 2013.

In addition to the Plaza and the Park are three of Brooklyn’s most impressive landmarks: The Brooklyn Botanic Garden, The main branch of the Brooklyn Public Library, and Brooklyn Museum.  I think quite literally that I could spend many months photographing within a half mile of the Plaza.  Needless-to-say one’s photographic wanderings are personal and a bit quirky.  For me the goal is not to document the architecture but to photograph what the light strikes on a given day and therefore grabs your fancy.

For me the first focus is always philanthropist  Frank Bailey’s  (1865-1953) fabulous Neptune Fountain.  It was built in 1932, a collaboration between by architect Edgerton Swarthout and sculptor Eugene Savage.   The fountain, a dramatic sculptural waterwork includes  central bronze sculptures of male and female figures atop the prow of a ship.  These represent Wisdom and Felicity and are surrounded by Neptune himself, his attendant Triton, and a boy holding a cornucopia.   To me personally the only material that compares to bronze in being photogenic is marble.  And here you have the magic of bronze combined with water.  What I really need to do is visit this fountain at different times of day to get different illuminations.  Figure 2, an image of Neptune I have posted before and is one of my favorites.  Figure 3 I took last weekend of Wisdom, Felicity, and the boy with the cornucopia.    My only problem is that I would have preferred to get a face on image, but the lighting wasn’t right.

Figure 5 - Facade of the Brooklyn Public Library, (c) DE Wolf 2013.

Figure 5 – Facade of the Brooklyn Public Library, (c) DE Wolf 2013.

Poking further around the Plaza, I was very much taken by the snake garden planters that adorn the entrance of the park.  One of them is shown in Figure 4. From there I climbed the library steps and photographed the art deco main entrance of the library (desisigned by sculptors Thomas Hudson Jones and Carl P. Jennewein. Take note: The bronze screen above the entrance features beloved characters from American literature..  Figure 5 catches a bit of the famous door with its golden literary figures.  The ones shown in my picture top to bottoms are: Meg (from Little Women by Louisa May Alcott), White Fang (from the novel by Jack London),  Natty Bumppo (from James Fenimore Cooper’s Leatherstocking Tales), The Raven (from the poem by Edgar Allan Poe), and Richard Henry Dana, Jr. (author and narrator of Two Years Before the Mast).

The Grand Army Plaza, Prospect Park, and the surrounding neighborhoods are fertile grounds for photographic discovery.  And what you discover, I believe is an important connect or link between three Brooklyns: the Brooklyn of the gilded age, the Brooklyn of the art deco period, and the vibrant hipster-ethnic Brooklyn of today.  Maybe Thomas Wolfe put it best, and maybe he had us photographers in mind when he said:

Dere’s no guy livin’ dat knows Brooklyn t’roo an’ t’roo, because it’d take a guy a lifetime just to find his way aroun’ duh goddam town.”