Abstract # 2 – Earth, sky, and water

 

Figure 1 - Abstract #2 - Earth, sky, and water

Figure 1 – Abstract #2 – Earth, sky, and water, Fresh Pond Reservation, Cambridge, MA. (c) DE Wolf 2015.

After my weekend in Ohio, it was good to get back to Cambridge and the Fresh Pond Reservation. I took this image at Black’s Nook. It is an Abstract derived not of man-made items but from natural ones. What struck me was the beauty of the clouds and the powder-blue sky reflected in the water of the pond. If you look closely you will see some delicate reds in the clouds.

The branches provide a minimalist division of the space and my eye struggles to find details like the peeling bark on the branches.
Water and sky are mirrors of one another and at first glance you might ask whether we are looking at branches silhouetted against the sky or against the sky reflected in the water. But if you look very closely you will see the phantom shadows of fish beneath the water and multiple bubbles causing little bright specters of the sun on the surface. So the little mystery is solved.
Can T2i with EF70-200mm f/4L USM lens at 145 mm, ISO 1600 Aperture Priority AE mode 1/1250th sec at f/8.0 with no exposure compensation.

Climbing El Capitan with Google

A while back, we discussed the importance of the Yosemite Valley as a Mecca for American photographers.  Specifically, I focused on the journey of an intrepid reader of this blog. Now for those of us who are more “arm chair” than real travelers.  Google Earth has sent one of its 360 degree camera up Yosemite’s El Capitan, so that all of us can enjoy the climb without having to suffer the vertigo and high altitude. I guess that I should admit that Google’s imagery is so vivid that I do, in fact, get a bit queasy.

What can it all mean, these cyber journeys? Do they connect us in new ways? Is the planet smaller? Are we better for it?  I guess that as a lover of things robotic, of what we have called robotic eyes, I answer in the affirmative. We are better for the experience. And I hasten to add that it is one thing to see a climbers view of Yosemite, but when we begin to experience in real time robotic images from say a moon of Jupiter it will be something awesome.

Photography continues to stretch us to give us new vision and new ways of interpreting old sites.  It seems totally remarkable that one hundred and seventy-seven years after its invention photography retains that magical sense. And it accomplishes this by forever pushing the envelope of human experience.

Abstract #1

Figure 1 - Windmill blades, Springfield, OH. (c) DE Wolf 2015.

Figure 1 – Windmill blades, Springfield, OH. (c) DE Wolf 2015.

Last weekend I was in Springfield and Columbus, Ohio.  I took the image of Figure 1 at the at the Clark County Heritage Center in Springfield. As an abstract it begs the question: What is it? The features of the photograph to make it abstract are straight forward: high grain, tight close up, a slightly awkward and puzzling perspective, and a concentration on the shadows. It is an object that was once familiar in the fields of the American Midwest – indeed one which still can be found.

I like to take abstracts. The reason is that they evoke an innate sense of the geometric – something coded deeply in our psyche. Perhaps this appeals to a sense of the spiritual and the objects seem to become almost animated. In a way abstract art is contradictory.  It contradicts the fundamental definition of the word “abstract” as something existing in thought or as an idea but not having a physical or concrete existence.

It might seem to be a work by Picasso or the like.  But it is in fact a pair of windmill blades mounted on a wall.

Canon T2i with EF70-200mm f/4L USM lens at 70 mm, ISO 6400, Aperture Priority AE mode, 1/30 th sec at f/6.3 with no exposure compensation.

Summer solstice 2015

Having gone through this past winter in New England, it is really hard to comprehend the simple fact that yesterday was the Summer Solstice, when the sun reaches its highest point in the sky, and we have the longest day of the year. Yesterday some 23000 people gathered at Stonehenge in the UK to celebrate the event. There is a wonderful sense of spirituality that people have been gathering in this way for thousands of years. It symbolizes a recognition of our connectedness with the Earth, the Sun, and the cycles of the world.

I have spent some time scanning the new sites for the best photos of yesterday’s event. I thought that I would choose one that showed the sun rising behind the stones, but I was moved instead by a much more intimate image from the AFP/Getty. What makes this picture is the way in which the figures look in anticipation beyond the photographer towards the heavens. In this effect, it is reminiscent of Raphael’s Madonna of the Chair, a recognition that what is beyond is of importance.

 

Is that a hippopotamus that I see?

Hands down what’s got to be the photograph of the week is the image by Tinatin for Kiguradze/AP of a drug dazed hippopotamus being led through the streets of Tbilisi Georgia following catastrophic flood during which several animals escaped. It seems a scene out of Dr. Seuss or, if not that, then out of the movie Jumanji. Tragically 13 people, including three zoo-keepers were killed in the flooding and a tiger that killed a man and wounded another was shot and killed.

Espresso

Figure 1 - IPhone photograph, "The espresso cup," (c) DE Wolf 2015.

Figure 1 – IPhone photograph, “The espresso cup,” (c) DE Wolf 2015.

Bill Clinton used to end his jogs at MacDonald’s. It was a nightmare for the Secret Service and the basis of one of the best SNL skits of all time.  I’m not that bad. On weekends I tend to trade my long walks around Fresh Pond for a short walk around the mall that ends with espresso at the Nordstrom’s Ebar.  And boy is it good.

Espresso, by definition,  is, of course,  coffee brewed by forcing a small amount of nearly boiling water under pressure through finely ground coffee beans. Espresso is generally thicker than coffee brewed by other methods and has a higher concentration of suspended and dissolved solids. Yum! The notable part, other than its incredible rich taste and ability to blast you into a caffeine frenzy is the foamy “crema“on top.  These also result in the characteristic residue on the classic porcelain espresso cup, which I have made the subject of Figure 1. In a fantasy world we might imagine reading the future in the espresso lees as is done with tea leaves. Curious how pattern and message is associated with randomness.  In the real world all that we can do is enjoy the flavor and the intense contemplation that it affords us.

The history of espresso is capsulized in the Wikipedia article about it.  The precurser to espresso appears to lie in Angelo Moriondo’s 1884 Italian patent for a steam-driven “instantaneous” coffee beverage making device.  This however was designed to produce coffee in bulk not on an individual-by-individual basis.  In 1901, Milanese Luigi Bezzera came up with a number of improvements to the espresso machine. A patent was granted in 1902 entitled “Innovations in the machinery to prepare and immediately serve coffee beverage.”

As I said, espresso is classically served in a little porcelain cup with saucer and miniature spoon. In the photograph I have tried to capture the patterns of the residue on such a cup. And I’ll give a little derivative nod, since I certainly had it in mind when I took this IPhone image, to André Kertész‘s “The Fork, 1928.”

 

Fish crow – Corvus ossifragus

Fifure 1 - Fish crow, Fresh Pond Reservation, Cambridge, MA. (c) DE Wolf 2015.

Fifure 1 – Fish crow, Fresh Pond Reservation, Cambridge, MA. (c) DE Wolf 2015.

There are two species of crows in Massachusetts, the Fish crow – Corvus ossifragus – and the American crow – Corvus brachyrhynchos. They are hard to tell apart based purely on appearance. Better identification is achieved from their distinctive calls. My best guess for Figure 1, based on size and the slight brownish tinge, is that this fellow is a Fish crow.

I came upon him along the path sitting low in a tree, and as is often the case with crows he was pretty much unphased by my presence.  Indeed, at one point he cocked his head and looked at me directly.  They are very smart birds and also aggressive. You often see them high in the air harassing and chasing hawks.

There is a lot of mythology associated with crows and ravens. We see in their faces wisdom, knowing, and seeing. Sadly this one has very cloudy eyes. I have seen this before at Fresh Pond in other birds. I suspect that it is not cataracts, but some eye disease and this particular bird almost certainly has trouble seeing.

I am also starting to realize how difficult birds’ eyes are in photograph.  They don’t always have the catch-light that we are familiar with in people. You often wind up with a distant alienating eye. They are often hidden against dark coloration. And I am often amazed both at how the eye makes or breaks the photograph and at how much time an effort I spend trying to accentuate but not exaggerate them.

Canon T2i with EF70-200mm f/4L USM lens at 200 mm, ISO 1600, Aperture Priority AE mode, 1/1000th sec at f/7.1 with +1 exposure compensation.

 

The world beneath my feet

Figure 1 - Early meadow rue, Fresh Pond Reservation, Cambridge, MA. (c) DE Wolf 2015.

Figure 1 – Early meadow rue, Fresh Pond Reservation, Cambridge, MA. (c) DE Wolf 2015.

When I go out on my camera-in-hand walks I’m usually looking up at the trees in search of birds to photograph.  As a result I can miss what is going on at my feet. Case in point being the photograph of Figure 1.  This little greenish bell-shaped flower struck me as such a beautiful world in miniature – much like a Japanese garden. It was really just a little weed along the fence, but despite the fact that all I was toting was my 70 to 200 mm zoom. I just had to photograph these delicate little flowers set against a wonderful bokeh of magenta.

I am not a botanist by any means. So I am reluctant to take a guess as to what exactly it is. I am thinking early meadow rue as called quick-silver weed (Thalictrum dioicum). But I am hoping that one of my readers who is more familiar with wild flowers than I will set me straight if I am wrong. But either way, right or wrong, I find the shape and the colors ever so peaceful.

Canon T2i with EF70-200mm f/4L USM lens at 103 mm, ISO 1600, Aperture Priority AE mode, 1/3200 sec at f/7.0 with -1 exposure compensation.

Martine Franck “Children on a Spiral Staircase”

It has been brought to my attention by photographer Vincenzo Vitale  that I made an error in attribution in my December 26, 2014 post.  The photograph “Children on a Spiral Staircase” was not taken by Cartier-Besson, but by his second wife photographer Martine Franck. (1938 –  2012). She was a well-known Belgian documentary and portrait photographer and like Cartier-Besson a member of Magnum Photos for over 32 years. She was also co-founder and president of the Henri Cartier-Bresson Foundation. It is, of course, embarrassing, and I am very grateful to Mr. Vitale for bringing this to my attention.

If you search the web you will find this photograph attributed to Cartier-Besson, all over the place.  That is not a defense but illustrative of just how pervasive the internet can be in diseminating incorrect information. This is why I have gone back to the original posting and added this correction.  It points very clearly to the need to be vigilant of the quality of information that we get from the web.  Our cell phones are ever with us and whenever a question arises we look it up instantly, but are often oblivious to veracity.

In the present case, I believe that it is very important that this beautifully composed and crafted photograph be properly attributed, especially as it draws our attention back to Ms. Franck’s wonderful work. It seems appropriate to quote Martine Franck on photography:

“A photograph isn’t necessarily a lie, but nor is it the truth. It’s more of a fleeting, subjective impression. What I most like about photography is the moment that you can’t anticipate: you have to be constantly watching for it, ready to welcome the unexpected.”
What follows is the original and uncorrected post.

 

Instead of writing my blog this morning, I find myself endlessly searching the prolific work of Henri Cartier-Bresson (1908-2004).  Cartier-Bresson is often credited with the “invention” of street photography and he was a founding member of Magnum.  Often associated with Cartier-Bresson is the phrase “the decisive moment.”  It is setting up your camera and then waiting patiently for that moment when the photograph is defined and ready to be snapped with a single press of the (Leica) shutter.  So much of his work is in our collective consciousness as defining the twentieth century – and defining the meaning of “candid photography.” To pause for a few moments in the heart of Cartier-Bressons work is to learn to understand the meaning of phorography.

The image that I have chosen for today’s “Favorite Photographs, 2013” is Cartier-Bresson’s classic and well composed image of children on a spiral staircase.  I believe, but am not sure, that this picture was taken in 1932.  Perhaps a reader can inform me of the correct date and whether it has a title that Cartier-Bresson used.

Cartier-Bresson was a master at using lines, such as the spiral, in defining his pictures.  And even in as static a subject matter as children peering down from a staircase, the spiral creates dynamics.  But of course, with spirals there is something more.  This is, of course, the “Golden Proportion,” the perfect division of a rectangle from an aesthetic point of view, and how by repeatedly dividing progressive rectangles by the “Golden Proportion” one obtains the Fibonacci spiral.  This spiral occurs repeatedly in nature: in, for instance in the shell of the chambered nautilus and the horn of the ram.  It creates a sense of natural perfection.  This is the effect that Cartier-Bresson seeks here. He does not center his spiral at the center of the image but rather so as to divide the image by the Golden Proportion. The position is pretty much perfect* and you wouldn’t really have it any other way.  I suppose that it is best stated in Cartier-Bresson’s own words:

“To take a photograph is to align the head, the eye and the heart. It’s a way of life.”

* I have measured this approximately.  If you divide the vertical length of the image by the longer distance between the center of the spiral and the top of the image, you get a ratio of ~1.68, which is close enough for government work to the Golden Proportion of 1.62.  The actual size of the photograph is 1.5, which, of course bows to the artistic approximation of the Golden Proportion namely the Golden Rule of Thirds.