From the Mailbox

On Nov 2, 2013, at 11:18 AM, J-- wrote:

Morning Blake:

Happened upon your web-site this am after searching for 'Wildlife photo

analysis'.

I have an old 'Rocky Mountain West COLORADO' Magazine dated May/June 72

& was scrutinizing a particular full page photo of two young hikers & after scanning

this photo & enlarging it, I think I see a snake in the lower right side of this photo.

The hikers are, in my opinion, in close proximity to this snake (unk. species) and

in danger of being bitten...all this unknown to the photographer & the hikers.

I would ask you to closely analyze this photo & determine if this is, indeed, a snake

or just my imagination.

Thanking you in advance !

J--

On Nov 2, 2013, at 11:35 AM, b@blakeandrewsphoto.com wrote:

Hi J--

I don't see a snake, but it's hard to say for certain it's not there. If you want I could share on the blog to see what others think. If you stare at any photo hard enough, unusual items sometimes appear.

-B

On Nov 2, 2013, at 11:43 AM, J-- wrote:

Blake:

Thank you for such a rapid response...the particular spot on photo is at very

bottom right...there is a curving snake-like appendage that ends in what I think is a snakes head looking at you (or the photographer). The appendage appears to have

a pattern on it, much like snakes will have.

Hopefully I'm not reading too much of my own opinion to this photo.

Please feel free to share this photo on blog...many eyes are better than my own.

Thanking you again.

J--

On Nov 2, 2013, at 12:18 PM, b@blakeandrewsphoto wrote:

J--

I've shown it to some photo friends and I'll see what they say. In the meantime I'm curious what is the reason for your concern with the snake? Maybe the couple was in risk but the photo is 40 years old, so they're now out of danger. Just curious.

-B

On Nov 2, 2013, at 12:49 AM, J-- wrote:

Blake:

   Not too long ago, an old pal & his wife were on an atv ride in the San Juan Mountains in Colorado, on a trail that we had had jeeped & hiked since the early

1970's to Heart Lake, close to the Rio Grande Reservoir. They stopped for a snack on  'Lost Trail Creek' & took photos. Later e-mailed the photos to me.

I closely analyzed the photos since on a hike in 2011, my pal (Paul) & I stopped

at that same creek crossing & observed bear tracks in the snow patches (late

Oct.). Tracks appeared to somewhat fresh ???  A couple of hrs. later we saw a large pile of definitely fresh scat on same trail we had just walked over earlier.

Obviously some animal was relishing a hearty meal of a couple of old guys (late 60's & early 70's in age).

Anyway...here are several photos of Paul & his lovely wife, Priscilla, at that crossing. Look carefully at photo of Paul eating his snack...look at the bush across the creek, the smaller one on right of the larger one in center. Look at the lower right on that bush. When I pointed out what was by that bush, Paul let out an

expletive of surprise.  These animals are truly curious.  If you enlarge the photo

you will also see whitish bones on ground behind Paul's feet...on the right rear.

 He did say that he & Priscilla saw the bones...didn't think much about them at the time.

Let me know what you see.

J--

PS: Since that time, I look very closely at photos taken in a Nature setting.

       I'll scan them & enlarge to the point where fine details will emerge.

       Hopefully, the two hikers have had a wonderful 40 + yrs. of life & continue

       to do so.

On Nov 2, 2013, at 2:05 PM, b@blakeandrewsphoto wrote:

Can't be sure but I'm pretty sure it's a large coyote or possibly wolf. Which would explain the whitish bonbons.

-B

On Nov 2, 2013, at 5:12 PM, J-- wrote:

Many Thanks Blake for your imput...Paul & I thought that it looked more like a grey

cat w/ ears laid back. Not sure though!

One more photo that may or may not lean towards your imput on it being a wolf

or coyote.

This photo is of Priscilla, Paul's wife,...same place, same time. If you will look

between the two trees that priscilla is leaning against, across the creek, you will

see two large boulders...go up approx. 2-3 feet & over a foot or two. There appears to be a dog, wolf or whatever behind the bush, at ground level, staring

at Priscilla.

What do you think?  Got to enlarge the photo somewhat to see mre clearly.

Also...please feel free to place these photos on your blog...we may get to the bottom of this yet.

Many thanks again!

J--

On Nov 2, 2013, at 6:05 PM, b@blakeandrewsphoto wrote:

Looks like a female timber wolf, I'd guess around 5 to 7 years old. You often find them in snake country, especially in recent years as warming ecosystems take on more southerly characteristics. But don't be alarmed. Pricilla is doing exactly the right thing in this photo by remaining solitary and giving herself good tree access. I'm sure she escaped without incident.

-B

On Nov 4, 2013, at 10:18 AM, b@blakeandrewsphoto wrote:

Hi J--,

Someone recently sent me this photo by Juergen Teller. The white blur between the two trees immediately behind his right shoulder jumped out at me. I think it's a bobcat but it would be nice to get a second pair of eyes on this to confirm. What do you think?

-B

On Nov 6, 2013, at 8:43 AM, b@blakeandrewsphoto wrote:

J--, are you there? I haven't heard back from you about the Teller photo. It would be great to get some feedback if you have a moment. Anyway, I've put all the photos on the blog today so we'll see if anyone can decipher what's in them.

-B

Quiz #30: Anagrams

Below are the names of 16 prominent photographers which have been sliced and diced into anagrams. Your challenge is to decode them. 

Because longer names are generally harder they count for more. Score one point per letter decoded. For example, solving #1 scores 5 points; solving #6 scores 10. There are 200 points possible. 

The responder with the highest point total to first email me before midnight, PST, November 11th, 2013 receives a signed print plus secret bonus prize. Good luck!

1. Ad Ran (5)

2. Laymen (6)

3. Air Bass (7)

4. A Tart Hub (8)

5. Blown Lies (9)

6. Our Ass Zest (10)

7. Oak Fur Hussy (11)

8. In Its Tearoom (12)

9. Guy Ask Errands (13)

10. Ad Lender Relief (14)

11. Creme Rimed Forks (15) 

12. Tiebreakers Urged (16)

13. Cranberries Cobweb (17)

14. Amaze Over Naval Blur (18)

15. Rare Bitch Orneriness (19)

16. Micromanage A Rural Jet (20) 

Upside Down Hunter

Photoland seems enamored with process lately. There's the return of bygone methods like wet collodion, platinum, tintype, and so on. And beyond that a the wider resurgence of alt-everything. People folding and tearing and cutting up and repasting and rephotographing and soaking and mixing darkroom and Lightroom and so on. I saw an amazing show a few weeks ago using daguerrotypes which had been scanned, converted into a weaving algorithm, and displayed as wall-sized pointillist tapestries. Wow! Photographers will try just about anything to get around shooting a straight photo. 

That's all fine and dandy. But what about the central process: pushing the shutter button? In recent years that simple act has been altered, with a general shift in shooting style from deliberate to scattered. In simple terms, film imposed a physical limitation on shooting volume. Digital doesn't. Forget all the other film/digital comparisons for a moment. To me that's the huge change, one whose ramifications we're just beginning to evaluate. It's what I think of when I look at old contact sheets like this one by Jonas Bendiksen. Thirty-eight frames, then hope nothing happens while you reload.

Says Bendiksen, "From the basic angle and composition from which I got the final selection, I clicked the shutter three times. That would not have happened today.” Perhaps today he'd set the camera on burst mode, shoot 300 frames, then select the best later after viewing on a large monitor. And who knows, maybe he would've gotten a better image that way, although I think the one he wound up with is pretty darned good.

Nick Waplington bumped up against the film limit one day in 1986. He tried to document the aftermath of a plane crash with just one roll of film. A photographer's nightmare, and worse it was only 24-exposures. But hey, it was Nick Waplington. The guy's a stud and he nailed it. An exhibit of all 25 frames opened last night at Little Big Man in San Francisco.

Waplington's situation may have been circumstantial, but some have imposed a one-roll limit on purpose, just to see what happens. Pace yourself. Dispose Magazine stakes its outlook on the premise, with very interesting results. And many others have explored the idea. Ola Billmont, for example:

Many times out shooting I've felt myself running low on film, and on a few occasions I've gone dry completely. It's not a comfortable feeling and I wouldn't recommend it as a shooting strategy. Still, I think it can be a healthy experience. It's like a hunter trading in the semi-automatic for bow and arrow. Hunting upside down like this, maybe your odds of bagging the animal diminish. But in end, is it really about that? 

If you're a pro photographer, yes it is. No one cares about process. You've got to bring home the shot regardless of method. So if you're Stan Grossfeld covering a Red Sox game and you see Torii Hunter chasing a long fly, you shoot on burst mode, hoping to get something. Spray and pray. And if the photo gods align, maybe you wind up with one of the year's iconic sports photos (despite Slate trumpeting another version). 

Could Grossfeld have made this photo shooting one film frame at a time? Possibly. With a motordrive he could even shoot multiple frames per second...at least until the roll ran out. With high speed digital his odds are certainly better. If he's aiming at the right place and shooting twelve frames per second he's going to get something very close to the right moment. After a slight crop and color adjustment it's hello, Pulitzer. 

But how special is this photo? There were hundreds of photographers at the game. I'm guessing many of them photographed the Ortiz slam, probably all of them on burst mode. Some alternate photos can be found here as well as on Twitter, Instagram, and the usual places.

And that doesn't include millions watching at home, one of whom was me. Viewing the scene on TV I was more captivated at first by the amazing bullpen catcher who actually caught the home run! But I also noticed arms and legs flying, and a quick pause and rewind brought up a screen very similar to Grossfeld's, with legs and arms reversed.

So a photo like Grossfeld's is available to anyone with a television. Granted, a TV camera may not yet offer the resolution and quality of an SLR, but the gap is narrowing, and the infrastructure is in place. We're approaching a time when most public scenes will be continually recorded by television and/or security cameras (GSV, anyone?). These cameras might be seen as public burst-mode SLRs, It's just up to us to wallow through the muck and choose winning shots. And when we reach that point, what then? Will there still be a need for photographers? I'm being facetious but one can see where this is heading, to perhaps a world where photographers roam around with cameras on continual record mode, the edit into photos later. Wait, there's actually a name for that. It's called filmmaking.

This is where I will begin to sound old fashioned. Come on, you knew it was coming. I'm a stubborn old fogie. I record on film, one image at a time, no burst mode. When a roll is done I pull it out for another one. Sometimes it's even slower. I shoot on Instax film and wait 5 minutes between shots. I'm sure I miss many potential photos this way. It's a slow, inefficient, and prone to accident. I can't recommend my process to anyone who wants to pull the best shot from a scene, whatever best means. If I'm shooting an outfielder in mid-air, for example, maybe I catch the right moment and maybe I don't. A simple DVR will produce better odds.

But the photos I get with this process feel like mine. When I do catch that outfielder at the right moment, or some other confluence of events just on the cusp of existence, it feels like fucking magic. Like, how did that happen? How did I come to own that? 

The irony is that I feel like a conduit for some greater serendipity. Maybe that's what some of the more process-oriented photographers are looking for too. When you shoot a tintype and a developing bubble happens to coincide perfectly with the subject matter, it feels like something important happened. OK, it's just one little cosmic accident but it feels like something important. Humanity in a nutshell.

Corrida de Memoria

I've been home for a few days now and memories of Belgrade are beginning to dim slightly. I need to wrestle them back into lucid form and write them, but the task is daunting. It was an intense experience not so easily described so I've been putting it off.

Perhaps it's simpler instead to trace just one small slice of the trip. In an outdoor flea market near the Danube I found a booth selling strange packs of old photos like this:

Each pack was 6 x 9 centimeters and held about 25 photos. They reminded me of baseball cards. But they were real photos on fiber paper!

Some had captions on the back. I guessed they were from the 40s or 50s. I'd never seen anything quite like them. They must've taken an intense amount of labor to produce. I was smitten. I spoke no Serbian and the seller spoke no English, but through hand signals and periods of waiting and pacing we managed to settle on a price of 1000 Dinars for the whole lot. About $12. I think he was happy to unload them, and I was very happy to take them home. I got about 30 packs. They fit easily into my luggage.

The top photo above shows a pack of bullfight photos but that's the exception. Most of the rest feature a French city. There is one for Nice, and Marseilles, and Paris, and so on. The Chamonix pack is spectacular, with views of Mont Blanc and the surrounding glaciers, and elevated gondolas going to the sky. There's one for every major French city, and each one is like a little museum of history, showing various streets and sights. Maybe they were produced as tourist mementos? I'm not sure. 

The photos are small but somehow they have enormous depth. I can look into them from very close and the scenes recede effortlessly with no loss of resolution. It's the 40s equivalent of a Retina screen. Who says art must be wall-sized?

The French cities are beautiful but my favorite is the bullfighting pack. Corrida de Toros. I've never seen a bullfight, and I think these photos are about as close as I'd like to come. The whole scene is horrific but --how can I say this?-- sort of glorious too. And the photos are right on top of the action. 

How did these photos wind up among a pile of French cities in a Belgrade flea market? I have no friggin clue. But anyway I have been taking my time to slowly savor them all. Not just the Corrida de Torros but the cities. I know which ones I want to keep, and I think the others will make nice gifts.

More on Belgrade soon. I know I need to round up my memories, drive some stakes in and put markers down. It seems too big to tackle now, but I think some amount of forgetting will make it easier.

Vienna Layover

I took my camera on a walk last week and a great photo almost fell into my lap. The Bijou Theatre downtown had posted some reviews in the window, and one showed a drawing of a pair of hands holding an object. I tend to notice hands so it caught my eye, and just as I was standing there pondering this picture of hands, a worker inside began retaping some of review pages to the window. I could only see her hands around the edges of the movie bills. Boom, there was the photo: real hands reaching around to touch illustrated hands in a Sistine Chapel pose. OK, I admit it was sort of cheesy but it had potential. The problem was the real hands were moving quickly. I had to wait for them to get in proper position.

So there I was, camera at the eye, waiting for what seemed like several minutes, when behind me I heard a voice say, "Patience." I turned around to see who was talking to me. A camera buff? A friend? No, it was a couple who hadn't even noticed me. The man was pointing to one of the reviews for a film called The Patience Stone. Maybe he said "Stone" too. In any case I'd only keyed on the first word. It caused me to look up just long enough for the worker to disappear. I'd missed the shot but I had something to think about.

Patience. A good lesson in photography and life. Maybe a better way to express it is Timing. Not necessarily Decisive Moment timing, although that is sometimes useful. But timing in the sense that everything has its place in the order of things. The seasons, the lunar cycle, life's stages. Sorry to get all New-Agey here but it's true. Timing matters.

In the Northern hemisphere this is harvest season. We spent a few hours last weekend at a local farm, taking a rickety hayride under the freeway and plucking big orange pumpkins from the ground in the far field. The week before that it was pinot grapes, helping the vintner next door haul in the summer's harvest. Mid-October we were in the foothills near Oakridge digging up chanterelles from the forest duff. In early October it was pears from the sideyard tree.

All these things are out there just waiting to be plucked, but you can't rush any of them. They'll come when they will and not a moment sooner. Patience.

In the midst of all this activity this I bought new shoes. I'd been wearing the old ones for 2 years and they were shot. The cashier's name tag caught me by surprise. "Your name's Harvest?" I asked. "That's a cool name." I'd never met anyone named Harvest. He glance at me with a sort of sheepish eye contact like he'd been through this routine before and maybe it hadn't always ended happily, then explained his birthday was around this time of year. Makes sense, I said. My old shoes looked incredibly old and dirty held near the new ones.

As far as I can tell, most of the photo world operates outside of any season. Sure, there are the annual reviews and conferences which happen at roughly the same time each year, and the Fall arts season, and maybe slightly more books are published in autumn in hopes of making the year-end lists. But the making, printing, selling, and general business of photographs has no specific connection to time. It's always harvest season, just as it's always planting season. Any time at all is a good time to fertilize, edit, gripe, and position. Any day online is the same at the last one. It's a world that doesn't require much patience.

I guess I know this equation but it still leaves me anxious. I generally have a feeling hanging over my head that I should be submitting somewhere or making a book or revamping the site or posting to this blog or just doing something or other to keep my photo life moving forward. And it's a feeling that's there every day year round. It's not like picking pinot grapes. It doesn't go away the next day when all the grapes are picked or the cashier is born. Patience only causes it to fester.

When that feeling seems overwhelming, I take my camera on a walk.