Fishing as the sun sets
Fishing in the afternoon sun
A straw hat, a colorful shirt, and a rustic sunset all contribute to an afternoon of fishing at a small pond off Huber Village and Tradewind Drive.
The best medicine for a photographer
Roofers atop office building is My Final Photo for May 21, 2013
I understand how important it is that I be supportive for someone who goes to the doctor. I’m the parent, the patriarch, the navigator, and the person with a calming voice. I often accompany others in the family for their visits because it’s my duty. It’s also my way of helping them get through the emotion, fear, and pain of an illness or injury.
That doesn’t mean that I don’t have a camera with me.
Today’s visit to the doctor was more private than most and I doubt anyone would want photos of the brief procedure or injured body part. That didn’t mean I wouldn’t be using my camera.
Around the corner from the Dublin doctor’s office a roofing crew removed wooden shingles from a large office building. While the doctor examined and approved private parts, I took photos.
With the efficiency of a very small tornado, the crew of eight men ripped, rolled, and removed one half of the western slant of the roof before most of the workers arrived at the adjacent complex.
This wasn’t the first time I’ve shot roofers although it is one of the larger projects. Finding different angles and action is always the attempt at a better photo.
The western sky was clear, a sign that the day would be bright and warm. The roofers worked in shadow under the edge of a slowly moving bank of thick clouds beginning to dissipate as the sun rose higher in the sky. The cloud’s edge eventually dissolved into strips creating a new compositional element that would become a key element in My Final Photo for today.
Landscape crew poses for portrait before beginning their work day, man, woman, pick-ax
On the way back I stumbled upon a three-person landscape crew with two men in shorts and t-shirts carrying trays of petunias and a woman dressed in the company uniform shirt and shorts carrying a small pick-ax. Without going into all the discussions about the crew’s history, what their plans for the day were, and their individual stories, I convinced them to pose for a group portrait before beginning their work for the day. I hope you approve of the result.
Little to do with excellence although a "Decisive Moment"
Leaping out of the rain – My Final Photo for May 10, 2013
Earlier this week I got caught in a thunderstorm while I was on Main Street in Uptown. It happened again today as I stood in the doorway of Cluckers to protect myself from a swirling deluge of rain so severe there was no safety under any awning.
I thought about making a run for State Street which usually had more shoppers and increased my chances of someone dashing to their car because they needed to get somewhere rather than stay dry. I stayed where I was as I only carried the D5000 which is not sealed against the weather.
There were two people who braved the rain. The man above, caught at the “decisive moment” on his tiptoe leaping across the rain-filled gutter onto the sidewalk, was eager to meet friends for chicken wings and liquid refreshment. Given the same choice I’d run through heavy rain, lightning, and rain-filled gutters. Wise decision. Very decisive.
Dashing to the car in the middle of a thunderstorm – My Final Photo for May 10, 2013
The other was a woman running to her car at the rear of The Old Bag of Nails. She couldn’t use the back door. It was closed because the restaurant’s outdoor grease trap had overflowed spreading the foul smelling viscous liquid into the lot, across the sidewalk and into the street.
She had not only to navigate a longer run to her car, she was forced to run into the street to avoid the thick layer of used cooking grease that blocked her path.
Then I wished I had a longer lens. My decision to carry only the D5000 with the kit lens was not a “decisive moment” for me although I liked the photos I got with it.
Finding the right moment for portrait
Oldest worker and only beard on the asphalt crew – My Final Photo for May 7, 2013
He wasn’t the first man I saw working on the asphalt crew. But he was the one with the beard. The others were younger. Some so young they could have been his kids or perhaps a grandchild although that’s a stretch.
I knew right away I wanted a portrait of this man whose face and frame bore the burden of time and hard work at the end of the day.
At first, I received the normal glances and brief stares as everyone in the work crew wondered who is that man and why is he here with cameras? The best protocol is to stand offsite across the street for a few minutes. This gives the crew time to think about your presence and begin to think about how you might be received if approached.
It also gives me time to figure out who’s supervising, who is the newest member of the crew, what is their work flow, and who among them might make the best subject.
When I’ve discerned most of the series of studies the photo work begins.
I saved the portrait until the last moment after the heavy rain shower and until the crew finished most of the heavy work breaking away the old pavement and began to make repairs.
Earlier my subject briefly used the pick to begin the task of breaking up worn and cracked asphalt before turning it over to the youngest member of the group so I knew I had what the photo prop would be.
He retrieved it for me then stood in two different places as I found the best background with the walls of the Tai Chi house being the best. He is also facing the open parking lot where light from the overcast skies was brightest. Facing any other direction cast too dark a shadow on his eyes.
Shot for about three minutes standing on my tiptoes to get the best angle against the brick wall. I did use thePhotoshop Healing Brush to remove a sign from the background. This isn’t photojournalism and I’m fine with making a portrait look better using a myriad of tools. If I’d been on assignment for a publication it is unlikely I would have singled out a worker for a portrait unless it was part of the assignment. If it had been part of the assignment, the crew would have known and I would have brought a small lighting kit.
Like it so much I made it My Final Photo for the day. It was a tough choice between the asphalt crew worker and the two kids in the rain walking down the sidewalk in Uptown Westerville.
The Difficult Moments Now Decorating Walls
Families bury six children killed in house fire. Photo copyright The AP
Earlier today one of my Facebook friends pointed me towards a New York Times story with a remarkable photo of a lone person walking through dust and debris in a canyon of buildings destroyed by the war in Syria.
I always enjoy our online conversations because each of us have strong opinions, don’t always agree, respect each other, and love photography.
Today we agreed that it’s very difficult for a photographer to express pride or contentment having to shoot photos like the one he pointed me to. It’s not an enjoyable task, shooting disasters and deaths.
I spent almost all of my photojournalism career shooting moments that weren’t necessarily very enjoyable. There’s plane crashes and auto wrecks. Funerals for police, firefighters, children, military, the famous and infamous.
The photo at right is one of those moments where journalism overcame emotion and fear in an attempt to communicate to newspaper readers the gravity of burying six children at the same time.
There were only three frames of film from this viewpoint. I’d left my other cameras with telephoto lenses in the car and walked up to the crowd of mourners carrying one camera with a wide-angle lens. I stood quietly at the edge of the crowd gathered tightly against the edge of the tent covering the families and the caskets. I stayed quiet, my camera concealed under my winter coat, until I could see through the space between the heads of several mourners that emotion had reached its zenith.
As the parents hugged and the pastors said the final prayers I reached over the crowd positioned my camera in where I hoped it would be a good angle and fired three frames. No motor drive. This was film days and cameras still had a thumb drive for moments just like this.
As soon as I shot the three frames I returned to my car and left.
I knew I had photos to help tell the anguish of a funeral for six children. Also, I didn’t want to explain my actions to anyone who was offended.
My actions were cold and calculated. I anticipated one of the reactions would be anger at me. Still, the story needed to be told. I am a photographer. I did what was needed to tell the story.
No one chased after me. No one complained. There were no nasty letters from readers.
I did receive congratulations for succeeding with a good photo in such a tough situation.
I thought of this photo when I had my Facebook conversation this morning. Especially after what had happened the night before.
Young couple pose for iPhone portrait – My Final Photo
One of my granddaughters visited last night wanting me to give her a bunch of black and white prints from my archive so she could decorate the walls of her room. Among her choices, in addition to the dogs, cats, and skunk photos, were photos of Jerry Rubin, Jane Fonda, Stokely Carmichael, a couple of presidents before Clinton, andassorted spot news photos. Sandwiched in the collection now covering her walls are old news photos showing disasters, insurrection, injury, and recovery.
All are now decoration for a teenager’s room. They are not even the poignant records of events forgotten in time except for the participants, and the photographers who were the observers.
They are decoration, wallpaper in black and white blurred to the grays of history.
At right is My Final Photo for Monday, April 8, 2013.
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