Categories
Photography

Black and White picture show

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

I pulled together some of the black & white photos from the trip into a little show.

I don’t have a particular ‘style’ of photography, but I do know that I’ll never be a ‘people’ photographer. When I run into interesting people, the camera sits forgotten as I chat, watch, listen.

In Bozeman I ran into a group of kids, modern day flower children, outside a gas station. They were playing music, dancing, trying to get enough money to buy gas to make their way home. One of the women, girl really, had long blond dreadlocks, gauzy skirt and tops, and with absolutely beautify tattoos over her stomach and over both arms. Intricate, traditionally colored tattoos with a strong Eastern accent.

If I were a ‘people’ photographer, I would have taken her picture and pictures of the others. But I didn’t. What I did do was sit with them for a while, hear their stories, listen to their not particularly good guitar playing, and give them a few bucks when I left. As I was driving away, one of the boys, mohawk haircut artfully colored, flashed me a huge smile and waved, and another of the girls ran up with a flower for me that she had plucked from the gas station flower bed. I left to the faint sounds of “Take care, sister!”—driving away with a smile that lasted at least 200 miles.

So, no pictures of dread locked tattooed blond innocence, or the looks on the faces of the people walking past, or the quiet giant in linen shirt and jeans who silently held out a can in one hand and an empty gas container in the other, or the boy singing folk songs as the others danced about.

I guess my photography will go in other directions. For now.

Categories
History Photography Writing

Let ‘er come

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

I’m back on track with the RDF book, though slowly. I want to write, frequently, strongly, and to cover the screen with pixels, but, lately, my thoughts have not been on technology. I think my new office location has something to do with it — my desk faces towards a window overlooking the housing complex and there is so much interesting scurrying about that I find myself easily distracted.

At this moment, exactly at this moment, I’m watching a wild rabbit hop around the bushes across the street. And one of the women that shares the townhouse where the bunny is foraging left just a bit ago, every hair in place, dressed perfectly. As always.

(Rather than be envious of her, though, she makes me feel oddly thankful to be so comfortable with my own rumpled condition. If she and I were cars, she would be a BMW, and I would be one of those volkswagon buses that has been around — you know the kind I’m talking about.)

I have also been spending time getting the web site for my online book (Coming of Age in John Birch Country) organized. I’m using pictures from the University of Washington Digital Collections to annotate the site, thanks to the school’s open copyright policy. One of my favorite photos is titled “Let ‘er come” and features a farmer and his wife talking to a reporter about the oncoming flood caused by the Grand Coulee Dam.

It’s easy to be sanguine when you know your home is above the water line.

letercome

Categories
Photography

Shades of Gray

I signed up for a class on B & W photography and darkroom development at the local community college, starting in October. Ever since, I’ve become obsessed with B & W photography. Today I checked out several books from the library that contain photos, and have also spent a little time exploring photos online.

As I look at the photos, I’m finding that there are very few styles I would be comfortable trying. With color photos, I’ll try anything at least once, and be quite happy experimenting around with others’ techniques. But there’s a quality of B & W photography that is very personal. Something about stripping away the color and reducing your palette to shades of gray, the photography becomes a fingerprint, no two styles the same.

Among the books I checked out was Let Us Now Praise Famous Men, a book that’s been making the rounds of webloggers lately. The copy I got from the library was old, battered, with the cover fallling off, pages barely in place; perfect ambiance for the photos and the writing contained within it.

I looked carefully through all the Walker Evans photos and have appreciated them, though for some reason they make me feel uncomfortable. I tried to determine why each photo was special–what I liked or disliked about each–but I have no skill with deconstructing a photo. My analysis is limited to “looks good”, “looks better”, “wow”, “not sure”, and “no, don’t like”. This is not an auspicious start.

To gain perspective, I looked at some of Noah Grey’s photos. If Evans was midday reality (Don’t you feel the heat? Can’t you taste the dust?) Noah is twilight dreamy–cool, soft, smooth. Lovely, but a bit safe? Is that right? They feel safe? Is this a step up from “looks good”, “looks better”?

I also explored Art Zone a web site dedicated to B & W photography. I particularly liked a photo of a sax player, but I’m not sure why. I thought at first it was because of the smoke, but I think it’s because of the shadow. And I was impacted by this photo by Andreas Andriopoulos, though I don’t necessarily ‘like it’. The subject feels alienated in the photo. Is that right? Alienated? Is this a step up from “looks good”, “looks better”?

Regardless of like or dislike, I realized as I explored the different works that trying to copy any of these artists styles is repugnant–it would be like wearing someone else’s skin. I am left with the lowering realization that I haven’t the foggiest idea of what kind of picture to take. And when I have B & W film in the camera, it suddenly feels awkward in my hands, and the scenes seem flat. Remarkably flat. Nothing looks like it would be a good photo.

I guess I’ll have to stumble about taking awful picture after awful picture until I find something that works.

It’s an unusually hot night tonight, even with the air conditioner, and I can’t sleep. So I’ll lay in bed and look at the photos until I fall asleep and maybe my style will come to me in the night in a dream. I don’t know though–I dreamed about King Kong last week so I’m not holding out hope.

Categories
Photography Places

Sound of surf

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

The weather is cloudy and cooler and the dewpoint has dropped so I can finally get out for a walk.

St. Louis is a lovely city situated amidst giant rivers and verdant hills containing numerous trails and paths and caverns and wonderous places to explore. As I become acclimated, I’ll be able to spend more and more time on something I love: walking. And if the environment is as kind as the inhabitants, I know that I’ll grow to love this place.

But I miss my beach. I miss the surf, the smell, the ocean breeze in my face. And I miss my pelicans. I desperately miss my pelicans.

GG Bridge from Crissy Beach

Categories
Photography

Caverns

cavern1.jpg

Additional Cavern Images: