Mask Fail 3 – by Linda Morgenstern

A rainy day in the face of humanity and COVID-19, Cambridge, MA – photopictorialist study by Linda Morgenstern. (c) L Morgenstern 2020

Today as a special treat, and to help us through these terrible times. I am reposting a photograph and essay by a dear friend documentary film maker, artist, and writer, Linda Morgenstern.

Mask Fail 3.

Daily dog walk.
Today is rainy and cold.
Neither Bella nor I want to be out for long.
We have finished our loop and are headed back.
A young couple is walking toward us.
Sister and brother…husband and wife?
It is impossible to know from a half a block away.

What is unmistakable is that the woman is crying.

Hard.

The man is holding her to keep her upright. Her body is buckling from the force of her sobbing. He pulls her toward his chest.

I cut cross the street and her face follows the sound of my footsteps. I am standing directly across them on the opposite sidewalk.

She can not catch her breath and I see her mask has been pulled down around her neck.

I can not look away from her sorrow and the shock in her eyes.

Some instinct pulls my own mask off so I can meet her with my exposed face.

My hand rises up to my chest in the place I think holds my heart. I feel my eyes close and I bow to her.

The sacred in me.
The sacred in you.

The scared in all of us now.

I have been thinking about what it means to take off a mask.
Literally and figuratively.
And how backwards everything is.

We protect each other from ourselves by wearing masks.
We are no longer visible to each other behind our masks and our doors.

But behind our individual shields, our masks are being stripped away.

A friend who lives in New York City tells me, by Messenger, he saw a man dying from his window as EMT’s were unable to resuscitate his neighbor. It was, he said, horrible.

I remember when I moved to NYC in 1980. I was twenty and stunned by the casualness of New Yorkers stepping over the bodies of men and women sprawled on the sidewalks and in the doorways. Addicts, alcoholics, the floridly psychotic, and people who ended up on the street because circumstances had moved beyond their control and nothing and no one was there to catch them.

It took less than a month for me, walking from midtown to my apartment downtown in the East Village, before I no longer stopped and asked if I could help. I had become a New Yorker with a brisk walk, avoiding bodies without missing a step.

Today I feel spring almost turn back into winter as evening approaches. New England is like that in its threat, in any month through the end of April, the inhospitable cold might reappear.

I walk the last few blocks home with a dog in one hand and a mask in the other. A sense of reverence from the love in the broken heart I just witnessed.

And I wonder, how common will it become to see the wracked sobs of strangers? How often will we see death out the window?

Will we fundamentally change, as a culture, when we know with full awareness that the last goodbye might already have been said? What will it feel like when the spectacle of private grief becomes a routine encounter?

Will we remember our shared humanity?
Will we recognize our interdependence?

Or will suffering and scarcity push us to ever greater divide?

Is it possible this is the moment when we find our collective heart and our political will?

For those communities tumbling into the deepest chasm, the answer is urgent.

In the quiet of the city I live in, I am increasingly aware of the birds singing. Have they ever been so loud or so beautiful as they are today?

Bird songs and sirens.

It has already become a familiar refrain.

Bird songs and sirens.

I take a last gulp of the rainy air with the words of my mother in my ears, “Wear a scarf. You could catch a death of a cold.”

How foolish to think this suffering of our making would not come to our own door.

 

(c) L. Morgenstern 2020

Safe-distancing with the Derby Street Dinosaur

Like most of you, I have been hunkering down in isolation and maintaining safe-distancing. I haven’t posted in quite a while and since I’ve been walking in broad circles, for exercise, every day there hasn’t been too much to photograph. Today was such a sunny and beautiful day that I decided to venture to the Salem Waterfront, in all cases maintaining a safe social-distance and wearing my face mask. What was there to see? In fact, I was so giddy to be out that I started photographing everything and over the next few days I’m going to post some of these images.

Figure 1 – Parking is free, but there is nowhere to go! (c) DE Wolf 2020

The first thing that I saw this morning was that the Federal Street Parking Lot was largely devoid of cars; so there were so many available spots. And then there was the scene of Figure 1. The parking stations were covered with trash bags. All of this means that parking was free but there was no where to go!

The town was quiet and largely deserted. You just had to be wary and shift sides of the street, if you saw someone coming. I wandered down Orange Street to Hawthorne’s Customs House and then along Derby Street to the House of Seven Gables. Along the way I stopped to maintain a safe-distance from the Derby Street Dinosaur (Figure 2). You may recall a previous photo of him from a few months back, wearing a stovepipe hat fro Christmas. It is very important that he not get sick because he suffers from a chronic case of brontosaurus bronchitis.

Figure 2 – Practicing safe distancing with the Derby Street Dinosaur, (c) DE Wolf 2020.

Finally, I took the image of Figure 3, which leads me to an important question. With a deadly respiratory virus raging and killing our fellow citizens, why would anyone? Do they still think it all a hoax?

Figure 3 – Do they think it’s all a hoax?

I will post more. But in the meantime, stay healthy and safe, dear readers and friends! It has been said that the trouble with our times is that we have no saints. That is wrong, our first responders, nurses, doctors, truck drivers, grocery workers, and delivery people who face this enemy for us every day are our saints!

Avalonia again

Figure 1 – Avalonia terrain granites, Singing Beach, Manchester-by-the- Sea, MA. (c) DE Wolf 2020.

At the risk of being redundant, I continue to revel in and work on my granite photographs of this past weekend. So today we revisit Avalonia! It seems a conflict in my mind whether to do these in black and white or in color. Today’s image, Figure 1, I decided to do exactly as I saw it, a warm late winter’s afternoon on the beach, bathed in a glorious golden light. 

Granites come in so many different colors. The most beautiful that I’ve seen in their natural state are the red granites of Wisconsin. And no these are not called “Badgerites.” All of this, of course, depends upon the incorporated minerals.

An important aspect of granites is that they have had a long time too cool. Slow cooling, or annealing, promotes crystal nucleation and growth. Granites are plutonic rocks, meaning that they are extruded lava flows that form deep in the Earth; so they have a lot of time to cool. Deep within the Earth, you say? Yes far beneath the Earth in the realm of Pluto, god of the underworld. In contrast, lava flows on the surface of the Earth or even blasted into the air are volcanic rocks. They cool very quickly and are very fine grained. 

For granite we have no less a person than Ansel Adams for a quote.

“No matter how sophisticated you may be, a large granite mountain cannot be denied – it speaks in silence to the very core of your being.”

Canon T2i with EF 70 to 200 f/4.0L USM lens at 87 mm, ISO 800, Aperture Priority AE Mode 1/320th sec at f/7.1 with no exposure compensation.

Granite debris at Singing Beach

Figure 1 – Granite debris field, Singing Beach, Manchester-by-the-Sea, MA. (c) DE Wolf 2020.

Figure 1 is another photograph that I took of the granites at Singing Beach at Manchester-by-the-Sea on this past Saturday. I am not enough of a geologist to say whether these are part of an ancient debris field, a glacial moraine, or man placed. Perhaps a reader can inform me. But I love the scene.

While my usual inclination is to do this kind of image in black and white, here I just loved the colors so much: the greens, the subtle blues, and the burnt oranges, that I just had to do the image in color. Just a little saturation and color balance correction and voila. It is a rock garden laid out randomly to convey a sense of order in the universe.That is one of the great and splendid songs of nature.

Canon T2i with EF 70-200 f/4L USM lens at 70 mm, ISO 800, Aperture Priority AE Mode 1/250 th sec at f/7.1 with no exposure compensation.

Palfrey Court

Figure 1 – The View up Palfrey Ct. Salem, MA.” (c) DE Wolf 2020.

I was wandering down Salem’s Historic seaport district the other day and found the quaint view up “Palfrey Court” of Figure 1. A lot of time it is worth pausing and taking a look up a narrow street, framed by houses now close to the street, and this view did not disappoint. I took the image with my iPhone XS and was actually pleased with the result except for an overly enthusiastic blue tint to the white paint from a cold February light. As I expected, the image yielded wonderfully to a little working in the stylized AI App PRISMA. I am slowly accumulating a set of historic Salem scenes, where PRISMA magically turns them into paintings. 

The operational word here is magically, because when I begin this blog I emphasized the magic of photography from the very moment of its inception with Fox Talbott’s “Pencil of Nature.” You’ve got to think about all the people oohing and thing at the Crystal Exhibition of 1851. Anything that adds to this magic, in the modern era, is simply part of the process. 

And please let me rail on a bit. I am getting mighty frustrated by STRICTLY Black and White user groups. Fine, nobody loves black and white more than I. But is toning allowed? How about duotone or tritone. Some of the best black and white photographs use these, and toning is certainly part of the great master Ansel Adams’ formulary. And then we have the wonderful Facebook Cloud Appreciation users group, no enhancement allowed. Yeah right! “More practiced in the breach than the observance.” And finally, we have iPhone Photo contests that insist that you use a phone-based editing app. Can’t call them programs any more! GET REAL PEOPLE! Sometimes I think that these people are more interested in rules than art.

Avalonia

Figure 1 – Avalonian granites, Singing Beach, Manchester-by-the-Sea, MA. (c) DE Wolf 2020.

Saturday was absolutely the herald day of spring. So we went to Singing Beach in Manchester-by-theSea and there I found the most glorious Avalonian granites depicted in Figure 1. Superlatives do not approach doing it all just. Giant boulders, massive plutonic flows, and threatening fissures. 

Avalonia speaks of a long lost time in the Paleozoic when a great volcanic arc formed off the coast of the continent of Gondwana. It rifted off to form the Avalonian microcontinent. Today the crustal fragments of Avalonia form the base of south-west Great Britain, southern Ireland, and the east coast of the United States. It takes its name from the the Avalon peninsula in Newfoundland. 

But really there is something more. It speaks of a long lost time and place in collective consciousness. The word Avalon speaks of a mythic place, sacred to the Arthurian legends of English speaking peoples. It is a place of great magic, a place to be sought, but only attained if you are worthy and ready.

“Avalon will always be there for all men to find if they can seek the way thither, throughout all the ages past the ages. If they cannot find the way to Avalon, it is a sign, perhaps, that they are not ready.” – Kevin”

― Marion Zimmer Bradley, The Mists of Avalon

Reassuring moments in physics #8

Figure 1 – Gravity defying hat. (c) DE Wolf 2020.

It has been a while, almost a year infact, since I last did a “reassuring moments in physics post.” It may in fact be the case that Figure 1 ain’t so reassuring. It is not a great photograph! But I was truly struck by the question, how is it that my hat is defying gravity and standing on its end at the precipice of the bed. And of course, it is not defying gravity but merely creating the illusion of that. Gravity physically and figurative literally binds us to the Earth. We may be quite reassured of that! The magic of being able to fly, so prominent a theme in Peter Pan, still eludes us, unless we go into space and in doing so use up a whole lot of energy to do so.

That is why, no matter how desperate the predicament is, I am always very much in earnest about clutching my cane, straightening my derby hat and fixing my tie, even though I have just landed on my head.

Charlie Chaplin

 

 

 

From the Triton Group

Figure 1 – Walker Hancock Figure from the Triton Fountain, Gloucester, MA. (c) DE Wolf 2020.

I love photographing sculpture! The kind of sculpture of Figure 1 lends itself to warm subtle sepia tone and you can play for hours gently coaxing specific area to perfect highlight. . So I was delighted to find this one-third-scale version of one of the triton figures figures by Walker Hancock (1901-1998) from the now destroyed Triton Fountain at the 1939 New York World’s Fair at Elizabeth Gordon Smith Park, along the waterfront at Gloucester, Massachusetts. The original was plaster of Paris and I am wondering with this one is really bronze. This was taken on a gloomy day; so the light was very even and filling. I liked this because the whole figure was well defined and I could work out the highlights carefully. And then there was the final reward of duo toning a rich chocolate color.

I will, of course, not hesitate to mention the way art gives us permission to welcome the mythic Greek and Roman figures back into our imagine reality. It is as if they never left us and we are immediately swept up into their pageantry of inner meaning.

Rotten apples

Figure 1 – Rotten apples, Salem, MA. (c) DE Wolf 2020.

Apologies to my readers for falling silent for a bit. I have been taking lots of photographs, but work has kept me too busy to work them up and post. I was walking the other day on the Salem waterfront and found these rotten apples in front of one of Salem’s witch shops by Pickering Wharf. They had clearly been left out intentionally and neatly arranged. The effects of freeze and thaw and oxidation are obvious and I think quite beautiful This, I suppose, raises the point that there can be beauty in decay, perhaps because it is part of the natural cycle of rebirth and restoration.

I have not been completely happy with toning in Adobe Photoshop; so I decided to experiment here with my old standby, duotone. Duotone is, perhaps a relic. The idea is that you fill your printer’s ink canisters with two or three different inks, In this case it would be one black and one sepia. You then independently adjust the lookup table for each. It is the secret of all those wonderfully rich black and white images in high quality reproduction. Kudos here to the best of the best “Lenswork” Magazine, which I recommend to all black and white enthusiasts.  And while I’m on the subject, a big thank you to Facebook for making it ever more difficult to post my blog!