For all the complaints and whining about winter, well, others prefer to do something other than wish for warmer days or no snow. Why waste the days feeling grumpy? This is a simple study of warmth found in the cold of winter.
Category: POV
A Timeless Reunion
I had a reunion recently. In the real sense of the word, I did see my high-school classmates and enjoyed listening to the way their lives took shape after graduation. Aside from [some] grey hairs, balding heads, [slightly] heavier waistlines, kids in and out of college, the many memories that circled back to greet us were good ones.
In another way, I had my own personal reunion with one of my binders of negatives. I found images from my days at L-C in Connecticut and decided to revisit them, though this time in a digital sort of way: scanning and rendering in post production. One thing’s certain, it’s much easier to scan and develop versus pour, measure, pour again, agitate, rinse, pour, fix, rinse, etc. etc.
The farm fields a la the soccer/lacrosse fields were still there. That pond is gone. I could’ve done a “before ‘n after” photo line-up, but decided, no, the before image has more meaning and substance. The “after” image—like others of its kind—looks too clean, even sterile.
What’s missing in this photography reunion is the ambiance, the nuance, the visceral energy of darkroom work. Your senses are so much closer to the image during development. You feel the smoothness of the paper when wet, made even more so with the addition of a wetting agent to promote spotless drying. The piercing smell of rapid-fixer reminded me to make sure the exhaust fan was on. The glow of the soft, red, safety light confirmed my presence in this other world, a place that made me feel safe, included and perhaps artistically complete.
This is a matter of opinion, but those negatives some 30-plus years old have held up rather well. Aside from dust marks, some scratches here and there, the emulsion has endured, and continues to do so. This is one of the things that I miss/love about analog photography. I can open a box, a binder, some glassine sleeves loaded with film and hold anyone up to a light source and immediately understand that there’s an image in front of me. I may not wholly comprehend what I’m looking at in a cognitive sense, but emotionally, there’s just something magical about looking at something that doesn’t need anything more than light, careful handling and a curious eye.
Untitled
As much as I do like shooting digital, I admit a soft spot for all things analog. My roots are in film photography so that has something to do with all of this fascination for the old. I hope film never goes away; wishful thinking, but such is the march of technology. For now, wherever I can find film—some reasonably priced—then I’ll fetch a couple of rolls or so. Outdated film is fair game as they produce a different feel altogether. I think we get too hung up on histograms and color balance so much so that we dampen our feelings for what photography can bring to us.
With winter’s short days, I get pulled into the boldness of both light and shadow. And when the weather is just uncooperative—really windy, extremely cold, etc.—I’ll get involved with film, a light meter, a medium format camera and sometimes a tripod.
Chasing the Light v2
From another vantage point—in this case 25 floors up—light takes on a whole new feeling. Chasing the light from a high-rise slows me down because of all the details in front of me: the buildings, the shadows, the roads, the tracks, the river, the moving cars, etc. etc. etc. You can’t help but take your time scanning the vista in front of you. I took these in the late afternoon during a break from my desk and drudgery. They say getting light—outdoor light that is—is good for you.
I agree.
Winter: The four seasons’ “bad” brand?
From saturated colors, to shades of grey, that’s one way to describe the transition of Autumn to Winter. Of the four seasons, winter often gets a bad rap. As a brand, winter’s attributes of bone-chilling cold, freezing rain, sleet, burst water pipes, vehicles that won’t start, cancellations [schools, meetings, performances, transportation, e.g.] among others play into that season’s unfair position or perception. Our modern way of living has made us unhardy if not too soft for nature’s rigorous character made evident in the months of November through March.
Winter needs some repositioning [or reminding] of its more positive attributes. And there are such attributes, which if we are honest amongst ourselves would certainly concur that, indeed, these qualities are demonstrably acceptable. Such qualities can be nurturing, calming, relaxing and invigorating. All this on any given day in winter. For me, all those qualities or characteristics manifest during and after a major snowfall.
I have fond memories of winters past. Ski trips, sled runs, hikes into the forest, walks with my family. In this blanket of quiet and stillness, I derive a prana that matches that of an ocean breeze on a sun-draped beach. How can that be? Think yin and yang. Consider polar opposites and how without one, the other won’t exist. Yin and yang coexist. I find a personal harmony in winter more so than any other season [fall is a very close second, actually].
Snow and cold act like acoustic panels whereby irrelevant sounds don’t surround or even reach me. Horns, revving engines at stop lights, really loud music escaping open car windows, none touch a calm within me. As the snow piles up, the world becomes monochrome with a color I feel as “equilibrium grey.” This equilibrium can be so complete that it’s only failing is the glow emitted from street signs, traffic signals and reflective panels. All else is in the domain of snow. Every now and then I read about cleansing diets and I’ve heard that they can be very beneficial for one’s general health. Winter has a cleansing attribute. Its stillness points us to a calm; its quiet to a inimitable level of solitude. The expanse of snow covers the landscape, in effect hiding from us things that aren’t positive, while protecting those things that are.
Yes, there several good qualities about winter…
Selfies and Brand Perception
Categorically speaking, the selfie is one of the top elements populating sites today. Somewhere in our digital world, popular media has put the spotlight on this ubiqituous “self portrait.” As much as I like coming across a selfie here and there, my preferences for this form of actualization is more personal if not deliberately planned. Not to say that a selfie cannot be personal for the sender or subject. Certainly to each his/her own; I’m in the minority as I don’t send or post selfies unless they’re for family. I suppose people who make selfies and photo bombs part of their daily life think nothing more of them. Thus, I can appreciate the spontaneity and the fun aspect of creating and sending them.
If selfies are genuine windows to our inner selves, then I’d think common sense should prevail. A selfie taken with pals in front of a questionable location will not play well. One example is the selfie of a twenty- or thirty-something doing same, with a brown bear in the background. If I recall, the location was in Alaska at a place popular with tourists and brown bears. The bear was just 30 or 50 yards [27 to 45 meters] away. That’s too close for an apex predator that can reach speeds of up to 35 mph [56 kph] in 100 yards [90 meters]. Safety considerations aside, think in terms of centers of influence [COF] who happen to catch a glimpse of the image.That being the case, the question then becomes:
What does a selfie say about you?
All that you consistently do and say is part of your brand. Variations to such, well, that’s another posting altogether, expecially variations that put you on an orbit other than the one you and others know you’re on.
If selfies are self-portraits and thus a physical extension of one’s personna, then I can surmise that one individual is the champion of such image making: Rembrandt van Rijn [1606-1669]
Not only was Rembrandt a Dutch master, he was a creative genius. His “selfies” had much to say about the genius he possessed. He imbued the intangible [his sense of purpose, his focus, his sophistication, e.g.] alongside the tangible [his style of attire, its texture and color; his facial expression, his eyes and hands, e.g.]
Yes, I’m certain there are other artists who can stand alongside Rembrandt, but he owns the niche.
With age, his selfies contain more detail and texture. There is a quiet confidence—almost regal in tone—that radiates off the canvas. In all of these portraits shown here, the subject is both an aristocrat and an artist, the benefactor and the painter, the model and the creator.
There are other artists who have done self-portraits, that we know, but none have the power of Rembrandt’s canvases. Noted photographer Richard Avedon mentioned that he loved doing portraits because the face is a landscape that tells a story. Just as Rembrandt’s portraits offer something about his brand, so can yours, in this case, the selfie.
But be warned about where you send/post your selfies. You might forget what went where; while others will remember exactly where to retrieve them.
“Paradise struggling in parking lot…”
I’m dating myself, well perhaps, but while working in our southern office the other day, Joni Mitchell’s Big Yellow Taxi came to mind when I saw this young maple [?] proudly gleaming above it’s black top environment.
Grey is Beautiful
As far as I can remember, B&W images have held my imagination firmly, yet inspirationally. Perhaps it’s how my brain’s wired, or the fact that my wired brain is getting older and thus prone to moments of unusual clarity. Maybe it’s about oxygen loss, electrolyte loss or that i’m just losing my mind.
Of late I’m remembering things in B&W, photographically speaking. Faces, places, things and so forth. If I close my eyes and remember an important event, more often than not I believe I can see the memory more clearly if it is, indeed, framed in B&W. I have no scientific explanation or simple rationale as to why, but such is the case. It doesn’t always happen, but when it does, I take notice.
Don’t start thinking that this brief treatise is about black and white being “more real” than color. That’s a tired argument made more exhausting when I’m among other photogs who present their case without first having the benefit of a glass of wine or beer…or both.
Grey in all its incomparable shades, levels of intensity and density and luminance, is a wonderously beautiful color. To me, none of it is boring or trite or conveniently familiar. I embrace the liberty that black and white gives me; everything in front of me is unified. The brigthness or darkness provides the lightness and weight respectively of whatever subject is before you.
The photography of Elliott Erwitt—in particular his series on dogs—is unabashedly “light” in nature. Eisenstadt’s iconic image of sailor-kssing-nurse-in-Times Square becomes a beautiful expression of unbridled joy. Ralph Gibson’s images from his collection, Somnabulist, is a journey alongside light’s texture. Yes, there’s texture from the subjects in his images, but you can feel the intensity of his grey scale, an intensity that pushes one’s comfortable notion of contrast, modeling and depth to another level. Cliche sounding? Yes, but you can prove it to yourself by allowing yourself a different POV. For me, no discussion is complete without mentioning the grandfather of Grey as something beautiful: Ansel Adams. Whether it’s a postcard-sized image or a 30×40-inch print, there’s no denying an evocative appreciation of his creativity and understanding of how he feels for what’s in front of him!
Most of all, I sense that grey gives me an empirical appreciation of my life to date. Here’s what I mean: B&W and all its shades of grey acts as an emotional filter, allowing my most genuine feelings to surface. I can safely feel—whatever such feelings might be—at a “safe distance” yet feel a sense of inclusion, maybe even a connection, with the subject at hand. Remember that “subject’ doesn’t necessarily mean what’s tangible in front of you, but a quality that rises from your persona or sense of self.
I’m taken by grey. It’s so beautiful to me…
Carlo Centeno 