This Old House

This lovely old stone home shown today, is a historic site located near where I live in suburban Philadelphia. It is one of those places often taken for granted and among many such buildings in the area in which I live. For several years I traveled a road to work that was adjacent to the road this one was on and never knew it was there until one day, for a bridge outing, I tried a new way and spotted this historic gem. He is a link to more information on it: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_Antes_House

Often now, when driving though that area, I will purposefully drive by and have even stopped for a bit to walk the grounds and rest, for there is something about this place that offers quiet and peace and a perspective on a simpler way of life.

When I was younger, I had the opportunity to stay for long periods of time at a friends home, house sitting so to speak, at another place of history, located just outside of New Hope, Pa, an area rich with colonial architechture. I loved my time there, for the experience encompassed caring for their small flock of sheep, chickens, the house and barn, and life there on a daily basis just had a strong attraction for me. I enjoyed the varied tasks of farm life and although I have not always been able to integrate that mindset into my life more recently, I often wish it were so, with time set aside to garden and read and enjoy the simple, small things. The home was one that was added onto over the past couple of centuries and was quite large, but the original space, a simple living room and kitchen with a single room upstairs was my favorite part. That area, now a library and guest bedroom was cozy and warm and when there, I would think about the varied people who perhaps once shared that very space and what their lives looked like in 1736 when it was first built, the same year this one was. It was someone's dream home long before my country even existed. I felt it a privilege to be there and although some nights were a bit too quiet for the semi-city boy I was then, I really cherished the opportunity.

This structure shown here, no longer has a family to occupy it or children playing in the yard as perhaps it once did, but it reminds me of my time in my friend's home and the history that I was blessed to live within every day.

I admire these old places and the craftsmanship and care that went into their construction and design, which clearly was thought out to last a long time. Most homes built today, have neither the skill nor the workmanship a place like this does and I doubt two hundred years from now, many of them would be standing proud as this still does.

I photographed this last winter while driving by on a snowy day, stopping to make a few exposures and have passed on the knowledge of it's whereabouts to friends, who have also enjoyed it. I have found that one of the things I like about this one, is that it somehow has a quality about it like one of those Wyeth paintings that I enjoy. I hope you do enjoy this one today and in thinking about this simple structure, think about the joys to be found in a simpler life as I do now and can set aside the days worry in doing so. 

A Beautiful Underbelly.

This image is of something most people traveling my path that day ordinarily might not ever see or if they did, never would take a serious notice of. It is a shot of the undercarriage of the Tower Bridge in London. While there on an assignment, as I usually did, I took some time either in between official tasks or perhaps after the job was done to get out and about the city to look for experiences and new friends mixed in with the photographs hidden around city.

Just before, I had spent some time shooting from a park on the side of the river Thames next to this most famous of bridges and the ancient and historic Tower complex on the other side. As I was on foot, as I usually was, when I was done, I was about to cross back towards a local pub for an evening meal and a pint when the gates came down and the bridge was closed for some shipping activity on the river below. Looking to take advantage of this opportunity, as I waited, I hopped the fence, walking out in to the center of the empty street over the bridge... for a unique view as this was not something normally available as the traffic always is very heavy. When the bridge opened before me, the setting sunlight was just amazing and strikingly lit up the metal structure underneath to my delight. It was immaculately maintained and painted in a beautiful golden yellow, further accented by the sun. The engineering laid out here was amazing and I marveled at the craftsmanship.

I immediately started to shoot the details pulled out of the scene, rather than the obvious shots that are normally seen from this bridge. It became a graphic element rather than a 'thing' to me and is probably my favorite from that day.

Often, when out shooting, the obvious might capture my attention at the start and cause me to stop and look further, but I have found that there is usually something also hidden there that is the real draw, whether I realize it or not. Sometimes, I can catch up with it and find it in the lens, other times not, and in those times I leave unsatisfied. This was a day in which I was surprised by something not looked for, not expected, but that captured and changed me anyway.

It reminds me to always keep my eyes, and more importantly, my heart open to things not seen with the casual eye, but that are there non the less, for sometimes those hidden things are the little parts of life, in which your real interest lies and where your heart truly can be found.

Ole' !!!

While on a previously posted about trip to Spain, I had the opportunity while on the Costa Del Sol to attend a Bullfight. It was in the small, but beautiful Dali designed Corrida de Torros Rejonao plaza on the Mediterranean along the coast in the tiny town Estepona. A warm sunny day, I remember being both excited and pensive about attending this ancient sport. Excited to follow in the footsteps of a mentor, Ernst Haas in that I was having this photo opportunity, but anxious for the blood sport of it all.

In one of the earliest color photographs, Ernst was covering such a fight with this new film, Kodachrome, which carried an ISO/ASA that he related to me was about 8 to 12. He had previously only photographed in B&W as had all his contemporaries at the time. With such a slow film, he was concerned about shooting a moving subject and after giving it some thought, wondered whether if he moved the camera with subject, he could maintain some sharpness and instil motion at the same time. With this though, he literally invented the much used (think auto racing) and accepted technique of panning and produced this iconic photograph below. 

With this in my mind, I wanted to try and 'reproduce' the feeling that he had captured that day as I entered the stadium. Far from the grand Colosseum type to be found in Madrid, the arena was small and had an authentic little town feel. The band of 6 or so musicians belted out lively tunes as who I presumed was the local 'bullfight queen' was paraded into the ring. It was all a spectacle and was very fun. Eventually the main event arrived and as things unfolded, my reaction surprised me. Originally thinking I would be repulsed my a manipulated slaughter, I was really struck with the courage, bravado and sheer guts that the young, up and coming matadors displayed right in front of these massive ragging bulls. Together, it was almost as if the two of them worked in concert in this beautiful dance as again and again, the young man with the waving cape eluded the beast. At one point, in what I think was to show his lack of fear, in a quiet moment, the young man even knelt down in front of it, leaving me speechless and breaking the wild cheering shouting Ole' with each pass that I found myself caught up in most of the time, along with the Spanish crowd.

When it was all over, I followed everyone down and out via a tunnel under the seats and as I did so, they drug the dead animals right past me into a side room. Sensing a photo opportunity, I followed only to discover blood and guts everywhere as everything was being freshly butchered to give the meat to the local poor. Seeing this, I saw the 'sport' for what it was and for the provision it afforded some needy local folks. I was deeply moved at he entire day and was glad I went. My mind had been transformed by the experience.

I did not make any image like his that day, but later spotted this young boy on horseback who was part of the post parade that went out into the town,.. his face filled with pride and dreams of himself in the ring one day.

I think today of a time when I once I had his youthful enthusiasm in all of life and especially photography, but much of it has waned while wading through life's trials and worries. On further reflection now, oh, how I wish to once again capture the cheering optimistic outlook I had that day... today.

Crisp as Winter

Another image today (can you believe I have posted so many days in a row?) from that 'walkabout' around the neighborhood last winter that I found the be interesting.

I remember the air was really crisp, a sting in your nose kind of bite to it but not enough to form ice on your hair tips kind, but quite cold none the less, much like these days that lie ahead of me now. I have photographed leaves like this in many seasons and they are always a subject that continues to draw me in, as do tree branches and trees in general.

There is something about a tree that fascinates me. I don't know if it is the way their structure expands into ever narrowing branches or the huge variety of shapes, or the way they shed their leaves (well deciduous ones anyway) or the fact that pretty much as a general rule, half of what it is to be a tree is out of site. The way they draw energy from both above the ground in the sunshine and below in water and minerals is just so cool. I seriously doubt whether many people ever consider this hidden world below our feet when encountering a tree, if at all. What is even more intriguing to me, is the vast properties that trees provide that we use to fashion all kinds of useful things from it, to firewood to keep us warm (stored converted sunshine in reality) to lumber, with which to build shelters, to simple things in life like cooking spoons to stir a favorite meal.

This particular leaf, a Sugar Maple I believe, comes from a specie that blesses us even further with a sap, when caught in the middle of it's wintertime rise and fall, then boiled down enough, yields a amazing, rich syrup that is a delight to the tongue.

When I think of my own body and the circulatory system that constantly sustains every cell within me, I think of it like the branches of a great tree, moving the needed elements, nutrition and oxygen to where it is needed and removing the toxins from me in return. Perhaps for me, this is like a little connection with nature in my small mind.

In this image, I love the way the edges carry a ever so slim layer of frost, outlining the rich brown tones with crisp white and really seemed to stand out among it's neighbors. I will continue at some point, to make photographs of these fallen workers of sunshine and if I like it, will share it with you. In the mean time, I will continue to love looking at trees in the winter and the beautiful silhouettes they show us when unadorned.

Brrrrrr! It's cold out there...

Here in the North Easter U.S. we are in a mid winter cold front and my local Pa temperature was down in the minus digits this morning. This image, taken about this time last year (just to be honest, I haven't been making any real, new images for a while now, sad to say) of some ice covering a small hole in the ground is one of those where I forced myself out on a similarly cold day as today to refresh and push my vision a bit. I made several nice images, none of them that captured me to the core, but many that made me smile inside my small, creative self, this one included. The ice, a very thin veneer here in fact on a neighbor's driveway and was able to flow as it froze with those always interesting patterns that nature provides.

I like photos like these, that are, but aren't what they appear to be. Someone might look at it and see one thing, somebody, something else. In making an image, i certainly don't define the viewing experience and I like subjects like this that are are left to viewer interpretation.

While it is always more tempting to stay indoors, warm in my slippers by a fire, sometimes it is good and necessary to get out, get a little cold and see something new, even if it means missing the comforts of home for a bit. It is always worth it. 

I hope you enjoy this today as I did that day.

As always, click on it for full view. 

Surprise Me!

This amazingly beautiful bloom, of which this is photograph has captured only a small portion of, belongs to the humble Night Blooming Cereus. I photographed this image a year or so ago in the middle of the night after a progression of exposures, where I was trying to capture the momentum of the blooming process.

This particular plant, received as a gift cutting from an old friend, is one of my favorites, even though it resides mostly forgotten in our laundry room. There is sits alone and slowly grows, unnoticed until in its own time, it becomes the star of the household for a night.

Humble in appearance, the Cereus is a curious plant and to see one, there would certainly appear to be nothing special about it to grab your attention. Gangly, long fleshy leaves grow in no particular pattern or attractive form, sprouting off of each other along side of long probing hairy pikes. In looking at it, it is hard to discern whether it is meant to be a vine or bush and having never having seen one in the wild, I honestly am unsure. Most people, I have found, would not have it in their home.

The one thing they don't understand though, is what is hidden in the patience of having one of these within your care. After what seems like an eternity, certainly years, and for no particular reason that I know of, they will bloom. This is no any ordinary bloom and within a botanical scale, I would venture to say it is one of the most incredible blooms I have ever experienced. The flowering process starts out as one of these odd spikes, only to grow and swell into a almost alien looking pod. This over a period of a few days to where it reaches a length of about 6 to 7 inches long. Then in one night and only for one night, starting around 9 pm or so, it will slowly start to open. Only over the next several hours, as the bud separates like the unfolding of ones hands, do you really grasp the beauty that is appearing before you. Eventually reaching the size of a dinner plate and releasing a scent throughout our home that is really indescribable, when it is fully open, it displays these most intricate, delicate of inward parts shown here. By morning time, all is gone.. the flower lying dead until another time when it sees fit to bloom again.

Over the years, I have rooted several cuttings for friends and family, some still cherished as members of the household, others that have perished, but the one I have had for about 30 years now, still is going strong, sitting silently unnoticed and waiting for its moment of glory once again to shine into the darkness of night. I can't wait to sense it once again when it does.

I hope that you might be able to find and have one of these curious plants for yourself. Although something that in the everyday is nothing to take note of, when the time is right, the beauty it quietly holds somewhere inside is worth every second of waiting for the bloom.  

Again, please select the image to view it full size. 

Safe Inside the Walls

This interesting detail shot is one of several I took of a Parador while on a journey across Spain several years ago. I had just finished a corporate assignment that took me to the Cost Del Sol on the southern coast of Spain and afterwards decided to take some well earned extra time to drive north across the quiet countryside to Madrid for a flight back home. It seemed a two week trip would fit the bill, so I loosely planned out a route and hit the road.

Trying to find interesting spots along the way, I sought out overnight stays within the Parador State run hotel system. Set up in the 1920s by King Alphonso as a 'days journey' stopping points for travel to promote tourism, Paradors are a collection of historic structures that range from old monasteries to ones like this 8th century castle located in the area of Alarcon. here is a link for more information: www.paradores-spain.com/spain/palarcom.html

I stayed in several along the way, but this one stood out as my favorite. The remote setting, the thick walls that surrounded the uber quiet, sleepy town and the structure itself was fascinating. I was blessed to get the room at the top of the tower, located up a very tight winding stairway of stone (which maybe was not so much a blessing with luggage and lots of camera equipment)  and thought it so cool. The room was tiny, with an arched ceiling and room just enough for a bed and spartan bath, but the window, which narrowed as it pierced the 7' thick wall captivated me. As i sat inside of it reading a book by the warm afternoon light, I imagined all the figures in history that have looked out it, perhaps for pleasure like I was or perhaps for a important vantage point to mount a defense during one of the many sieges this one endured.

Even though I only stayed two nights here while exploring the local area, the connection I felt to this centuries old fortification was profound. I didn't want to leave. Maybe it was the interesting history held there, maybe the massive feeling of safety, maybe the delicious meal of wild boar and almond sauce or maybe I just needed the time of rest, but it was difficult to drive off and move on. Whatever it was, I liked it there.

The very idea of a castle, a stronghold to shelter, protect and safeguard in times of old was essential to the well being and very lives of the local population that would in times of danger sequester inside its walls. Often, I think we too, figuratively and perhaps even physically, pull ourselves inside to protect, preserve and keep from danger our own hearts. Although at times perhaps even necessary as when we are hurt by those around us, many times, it is just out of fear or questioning of the unknown, or exploring the unfamiliar and different and as important as this might be at times, sometimes, as much as we might not want to, we just need to pull up and start a new path to see where life will take us again.

Again, please select the photo to view the image correctly sized. 

Multi Layered Vision

As I sat down to post today, I can't believe that I am doing so two days in a row. Although way back my intent on this blog was to contribute regularly, pushing myself to get images together and to shoot more. It has not always worked as I had planned, as many things in life don't and image placement has been quite sporadic, but it is what it is.

This image is unique among all those I have posted thus far in that although it is a in camera image that I indeed photographed, for it to be possible, I had to utilize digital manipulation.

Most of the images so far have been straight digital shots, or ones that started out onto film and were later scanned in to this medium. This one is a composite of multiple exposures that were digitally combined into one in a process known as HDRI, or properly, Hi Dynamic Range Imagery. It is a technique where many exposures are made at differing light levels, combining those all into one image allowing detail to be appreciated on a large luminosity scale. Although many shots I have seen using this approach are 'too dynamic' and look fake, some purposefully so, I was pleased with this one, as it encompassed detail both in the snowy path as well as the much darker tree trunks and shadows in the woods.

Our human eyes, are marvels of creation, amazingly adjusting almost instantaneously from light to dark subjects without any conscious thought, but in years past, film was much less so forgiving and one often had to choose which range to capture, setting the mood intentionally within this limitation. With HDRI, I could here more closely reflect what I might have actually seen that winter day a couple of years ago in a local woods.

Once again , this process and post today, has helped me reflect (which is part of the blogs purpose) on the nature of our vision and experience in life. Often, our experiences and even or willingness to engage in ones, are limited by our vision and how much of the 'picture' we see. Long ago, using film, my creativity was more limited, as was my youthful viewpoint on much of life, but in this present age, just as the digital world has opened up many more possibilities of thought and expression in my photography, my mind has matured and offers a much deeper thought process when I seek to engage in issues and possibilities in all areas of my life.

I hope you have enjoyed this today as much as I did when imagining in my mind the image that might exist within this new technique, while i was out on a cool, quiet winter stroll.

Please click on the image to view it full size. 

Round and Around

This image, again one of my first, taken many years ago (seems to be a theme lately) is also one of my favorites. I photographed these Lillies at Longwood Gardens, which is a Dupont family legacy, now a fantastic garden and conservatory estate located just outside of Kennett Square, Pa, nearby to where I live. A link to them: http://longwoodgardens.org/

It is very easy to make wonderful photographs here for the impressive displays they continually have on hand of the most exotic and beautiful floral landscapes one can imagine. The real challenge is to be selective enough to narrow your vision to the things that truly capture your attention. I have been there many times and I suspect will never tire of walking through the greenhouses or vast estate grounds and as many times that I have made photographs here, there will always be more than I can find I am sure.

This particular shot was one of a large indoor, springtime 'field' of flowers in their spring display. I remember trying hard to capture the nuances of the petals and other internal parts of individual flowers, then moving on to the relationship of the whole flower to it's environment, all the while trying to avoid the cultivated nature of this display. Eventually though, I widened my view to the larger landscape and made this image. I always liked it, but never understood why. Years later, when showing some of my work to my new friend, Ernst Haas, he really enjoyed it and asked me to make him a print. He pointed out that within the scope of the view for him, it led his eye around and around the image, always showing him something new, keeping it fresh. Until then, I never considered it that way and it inspired me to look for more 'randomness' in my vision from there on.

I guess sometimes we focus too often on the details, whether it be in a photograph or within problems of life we are facing, rather than looking at the solution and beauty that might be there in the whole. Even though I still tend to look for the small things that seem to capture me again and again, sometimes I just might need to step back to see a broader view.

Oddly, in this new format for the blog, you must click on the image to receive the larger view!