"The moon is an object illuminated by the sun. Expose accordingly." - Ansel Adams
Well, that's a good starting point. The reality is that the human eye and mind is far more discerning in terms of contrast range than any camera/film/CF card will ever be. When photographing the moon under conditions like the scene I saw a few nights ago the paradox was clear. While I saw a beautiful crescent moon setting over the Three Sisters peaks near where I live I realized that the only way to capture the scene was to make several exposures of the scene and then combine them into a single image. One shot exposed for the highlighted crescent, a second for the overall scene then matched in Photoshop. I made a variety of moon and scene exposures and actually chose two frames shot only a few seconds apart. I don't recall ever using this technique before as I really prefer to not alter images however in the situation of photographing this scene, I didn't have much of a choice. There is another technique, HDR or High Dynamic Range imaging that likewise combines two or more exposures into a single image. I tried that in Photoshop but the result was still a moon with blown out highlights.
I eventually took the double exposure route, copying the small section of one image with the moon and pasting it into the overall scene, moving the crescent to align perfectly with the darker part of the moon. After a bit of smoothing out the tones around the combo moon, noise reduction and contrast improvement, I had an image of exactly what I saw in the sky.
If the rules are meant to be broken, then I confess. I broke a couple.
Sunday, May 01, 2011
I had a unique opportunity recently to return to Louisville, Kentucky to work with the nurses and physicians in the University of Louisville Hospital, formerly Louisville General Hospital. Twenty-five years ago I did a documentary photo project on the only Burn Intensive Care Unit in the region at that time. A woman in the Marketing department saw the old photos on my website and contacted me. Our discussion led to a plan for me to come back and revisit the Burn Unit and also the Stroke I.C.U. and the region's only Trauma 1 emergency room.
After completing the edit I thought about comparing the old photos with the new. I found several that pair together and realized that although the treatment protocols are much different now than before, the level of caring hasn't changed at all.
Kodachrome, the iconic color slide film, is history. The last rolls were processed December 30, 2010 at Dwayne’s Photo in Parsons, Kansas, the only remaining processing facility in the world. The news of its demise is not new or unexpected. The IBM Selectric typewriter, dial phones, lace-up ski boots went before. Life changes, stuff changes, people adapt, probably all for the better.
Anyone who made photographs with the film that has been around since 1935 knows of its color characteristics that were like no other film. Bright, vibrant, saturated images.
My use of the film over the years was not as extensive as those in the magazine business, National Geographic, Geo, and the like. During my newspaper career the dominant film was Kodak Tri-X, a black and white film that could be tweaked during the development process using various developing concoctions. Edwal, Rodinal, Kodak, often with an added 9% sodium sulfite solution that helped control the contrast range. Printing a black and white negative with both shadow and highlight detail was a rewarding process. The drawback, of course, was trying to replicate a perfect print.
Kodachrome was the film of choice for me during my Peace Corps tour in Malaysia in 1969-1971 and learning to use it correctly helped my enthusiasm for photojournalism in the first years of my career. The most important factor was to control highlight exposure. In the digital world of today that is still the case.
Kodak Tri-X, was just about opposite. Expose for the shadows without overexposing the highlights and a lot of that could be controlled during film development. Kodachrome was unforgiving. Get it right in the camera.
Throughout the remainder of the last century, I always took Kodachrome along on vacations, pictures of my children. Those images still look great, stored away in archival sleeves. There are two memories now: the subjects and the medium.
I found five rolls of Kodachrome 64, 24 exposures on eBay from a seller who promised the film had been refrigerated and that the 2007 date on the box was not an issue. The film came in the mail and I put it in the back of my fridge while I thought about how I was going to use it.
The weather around central Oregon in November was spotty, and mostly one gray day after another. I needed sparkling, crisp days. Time was becoming an issue. I didn’t want to use the film for a set of pictures of scenics. I needed more of a challenge. Could I still make credible photographs with a 35mm camera, no motor drive and manual settings in an active setting?
The USA Cyclocross Championships in Bend provided that opportunity. Sunday, December 12th was the day. I began the day with stops at two of my favorite locations, the Metolius Wild and Scenic River, and a viewpoint of the Three Sisters peaks. One roll gone.
On to Bend for the cyclocross races in Bend. I chose to shoot the Elite women’s final using three of the remaining rolls, saving one roll for another scene at dusk. The race is on a loop course so I could move around to several locations to get a sense of what the event is about. I also tried to concentrate on the best rider, Katie Compton, who was defending her championship title. During the race that lasted about an hour I thought I was doing o.k. with exposure. Timing, light and composition were on my mind as well. One frame after another. I had about 12 frames left on the third roll and wedged my way into a spot along the barricade near the finish line with the hope of getting a decent frame of Compton as she was about to win the race. Serendipity was on my side. She cruised in front of me and raised her arms in perfect form. Did I get the frame? Was it sharp?
After the women’s race I switched my Nikon FE for the Canon digital cameras and went back to shoot the Elite men’s race. It was more apparent than I’d ever realized how digital has changed my shooting style. More latitude to take visual chances, no film canisters to change, mechanical freedom.
The last roll was used to photograph an old World War II Army ambulance that is parked outside the VFW Hall 4108 in Redmond, a few miles north of Bend. The rig is lit up for the holidays with strings of lights, Santa as the driver. It’s a melancholy scene and a fitting conclusion to my last day with Kodachrome.
The film was shipped to Dwayne’s. The lab was inundated with rolls of film coming in from all over the world so I wasn’t expecting a quick turnaround. There wasn’t. Twenty-six days later I got my five developed rolls back. I still have a small light table and a viewing loupe and I examined the individual slides slowly looking for the frames that had some merit.
The scenics looked good, the Army ambulance was nice. What I wanted to see was Katie Compton finishing the race. I found the single frame and was relieved to see exactly what I’d hoped for. Timing, light, composition. She won the championship again I had felt like I’d paid a tribute to a championship film.
Last week was a very special opportunity for me. With the cooperation and assistance of the Caldera Arts center folks and the Oregon Ballet Theatre I was provided the access to document the seven dancers who came to central Oregon to produce a new work and perform it and three other pieces for the local community. The new work, choreographed by one of the principal dancers, Anne Mueller, took the majority of the time since the dance was literally being constructed from scratch. The dancers along with Anne are Alison Roper, Steven Houser, Lucas Threefoot, Christian Squires, Brian Simcoe and Artur Sultanov and of course, Christopher Stowell, the artistic director. Irina Golberg, the principal accompanist, played the piano pieces and are now melodies I can't get out of my head.
Central Oregon has had a fairly mild winter compared to other regions of the country. Nevertheless, the continuous gray and dreary days piled up in January and February creating the urge in many around here to pack up and leave for warmer climates, if just for a week or two. Spring is slow in arriving here, two or three nice days then back to the clouds, rain, 40º temps. Our escape was to Maui for a week and that just isn't enough time. Next winter, two weeks.
Great intentions don't always produce the desired result. After changing the title of this blog I had several places I wanted to explore. The weather has been uncooperative, nearly a month of drab, endless, gray days. I also contracted a deep chest cough that evolved into the worst cold in my adult life. Photography, blogging? Forget it. Finally now there is sun and renewed will that is stronger as the coughing subsides.
We drove to Eugene today to see Allison and drop off her bike, have a good lunch and a visit. From Sisters to Eugene is about 2 hours through the Cascades, over Santiam Pass and descending along the McKenzie River 68 miles from its headwaters out into the fertile valleys and small villages of Rainbow, Blue River, Vida, Nimrod, Walterville and Springfield.
Although there is no demarcation line separating the lush forests of the west side of the Cascades and the stark, dramatic, and dry terrain of the rain shadowed eastern side, the change happens in only a few miles and a slight decrease in elevation. The McKenzie River's source is just over the crest of the range at Clear Lake. The flow through the narrow channels of the first few miles is a thundering wild child river. Three waterfalls, Sahalie, Koosah and Tamolitch punctuate the fury of the river and are assessable on a well-traveled foot path through the dense forest.
We've stopped here before yet today's visit seemed all new. The fragrance of the forest, the deafening sound of the river put us each in our own space as we hiked the short trail between the falls.
The long angular light faded as the sun dropped behind the trees. In a 45 minute walk the drabness of the past month seemed to be cast off into the river and carried away. And this all happened thirty minutes from our front door.
After three years of writing about my personal journey of moving on from my prior life in Sacramento, it's time to move on again. The masthead for the blog reflects what is currently interesting in my life, to me AND hopefully to you. The Oregon experience. I have a lot going on that I'll describe in upcoming posts. Thanks for your interest.
I had high hopes for clear skies around here to photograph the blue moon (the second full moon in December). No such luck. Nothing but gray skies and rain. Last night, January 1st was totally clear. Out with the camera, tripod and some long extension cords to control the house lights during the 25 second exposure.
I spent a day at the USA Cyclocross Championships in Bend, Oregon. The sport is wildly popular in the Northwest and the competitions are usually held in autumn through spring when the conditions on the loop courses are often wet, muddy, ice and snow and cold. For the four-day event here all of the above have been factors in the racing and everyone seems happy about that. Aerobic capacity and bike handling skills separate the riders quickly in the timed races. Spectators line the course and ring cowbells in support of the competitors. After the races everyone heads into town for parties. No wonder cyclocross is so popular.
If there must be trouble let it be in my day, that my child may have peace. - Thomas Paine
A daughter gets her birthday wish, her daddy comes home. Darren Stewart, a TSGT with the 6th Air Refueling Sqaudron, 60th Air Mobility Wing gives his daughter Sydney Stewart a kiss after arriving home from a 2003 tour of duty in the Persian Gulf region.
November 4, 1979. What do you remember about that day?
The major event that day was the U.S. Embassy in Tehran, Iran being overrun by student followers of Ayatollah Khomeini, the leader of Iran's fundamentalist revolutionaries. Ninety hostages were captured and fifty-two of them would remain in captivity for the next 444 days. It was the turning point in U.S. and Iran diplomatic relations.
For me, it was the day I and fellow journalist, Joel Brinkley, left for the Thailand/Cambodia border where thousands of Cambodian refugees were crossing into Thailand to escape the war between the North Vietnamese and the crumbling Khmer Rouge regime. Our efforts there were centered around a Louisville, Kentucky physician, Dr. Kenneth Rasmussen, who was on the front line of treatment for the sick and starving who survived weeks, if not months, of perilous overland travel to the safety of the camps.
This past summer Joel and I made a return trip to Cambodia, thirty years after the "Living the Cambodian Nightmare" project. We wanted to see firsthand how life for the rural population, 80% of the 13.7 million citizens of Cambodia are faring.
Frankly, all is not well. In many respects Cambodia is much as it was prior to the Khmer Rouge era, 1975-1979. Old methods of rice production are still used, the infrastructure is minimal, education is not mandatory, corruption exits at every level of life and hope is a rare commodity.
While the world centers it's attention on the Middle East, Africa and other regions of conflict, Cambodia barely registers on anyone's radar. It has become the forgotten country.
I offer the two audiovisual shows below. The first is from our 1979 journey and has been expanded from the original version to include additional photographs of Cambodians in transit to the United States and several of a family that had been sponsored by Dr. Rasmussen and his wife. The last photograph is of Sot Oung, the father, in an English language class. He is looking over his shoulder out a window to see snow falling for the first time in his life. Ironically, a sentence on the blackboard being used as an example of tenses, says "How often do you go back home?" There are several responses to use. The first is "I never go back home."
I have reconnected with Dr. Rasmussen, now retired and living in Tennessee. He remained in contact with the family for a few years. They moved to Indianapolis where Sot worked for Lear Jet and Saot, his wife, became a dental technician. The couple divorced and Dr. Rasmussen hasn't heard from anyone in the family in over ten years.
The world has witnessed additional human tragedy, genocide and despair in the past thirty years. The legacy of Khmer Rouge debacle, Cambodians killing 1.7 million fellow Cambodians, has had little effect on the country's ability to redefine itself in the 21st. century.
For the last 14 years, Kirsten Bloom has been the most familiar face of the Sacramento Ballet. Audiences have admired and respected her abilities as a dancer and an athlete in numerous roles. She has performed in Romeo and Juliet, Giselle, Carmina Burana, A Streetcar Named Desire, Concerto Barocco, Etosha, and of course, The Nutcracker, each one demanding a different personna. Vulnerable, tender, feisty, sympathetic, headstrong, or regal, Kirsten showed the essence of the character in her dance. She partnered with Jared Nelson, Jack Hansen, Luis Napoles, Bobby Briscoe, Michael Vester in many of the dances adding the collaborative dimension to her abilities.
Kirsten will be taking on her greatest role, that of a mother next April and will begin her maternity leave after her final performance October 24th during the Capital Choreography Competition at the Crest Theatre in Sacramento. She says she is not retiring and plans to return to dance in the future.
I have been fortunate to photograph Kirsten on and offstage for most of the time she has been dancing with the company. Ron Cunningham and Carinne Binda, the Artistic Directors of the company will work with the current dancers and mold them into world-class artists as they have with Kirsten. Who will dance the role of the "Sugar Plum Fairy" in this year's edition of the Nutcracker? Whoever she is will have one of the best ever to emulate.
Anyone who lived the 60's or has since appreciated what happened then can't say "Peter, Paul" without adding "Mary." Mary Travers, 72, died today of the effects of chemotherapy in her battle against leukemia. The trio led the folksong revival which popularized many of Bob Dylan's songs.
I learned to finger pick a guitar by playing of "Don't Think Twice, It's All Right" endlessly at the slowest speed possible on my little record player until I could virtually match the notes. I'm sure I wasn't alone in the attempt to make my guitar sound as seamless.
The trio brought "Blowin' In The Wind," and many more, to mainstream popularity. And this is where the story gets personal for me.
In August, 1966 PP&M were scheduled to perform at the Red Rocks Amphitheatre just outside Denver, Colorado. There were high winds and rain during the afternoon, typical weather for Colorado in late summer. The concert could have been moved to an indoor venue, the Denver Coliseum, but it wasn't. Red Rocks is one of the most spectacular venues for a concert anywhere in the U.S.A. seating 9450 with unobstructed views of the stage. I arrived there in the rain with Sue, my date, and eventual first wife, two hours before the concert. We secured great seats, center, mid-venue and with an umbrella we waited.
The concert was set to begin at 7:00pm. At 6:45pm the rain stopped and a light breeze flowed over the sandstone walls through the audience. At 6:55pm the breeze intensified to a moderate wind. At 7:02pm Peter, Paul and Mary, without any introduction, came onstage and performed "Blowin' In The Wind." The soft warm wind, the acoustical perfection of the venue and the ethereal music is a moment that is one of my most enduring memories.
Years passed and I moved on from Denver to Louisville, Kentucky, the city where Mary was born. In 1985 PP&M reunited as a trio and scheduled Louisville as one of the performance cities. I was working at the Courier-Journal and submitted a request to photograph the rehearsal. I did cover the short practice session (unfortunately the b/w negatives lost) and I took the opportunity to introduce myself and I asked them about that 1966 concert at Red Rocks.
They all instantly remembered that moment. An introduction had been planned and the first song was not "Blowin' In The Wind." But, they also felt the breeze, saw the clearing sky and understood the spiritual connection between music, the audience, and the physical atmosphere. With no hesitation they changed the opening song. PP&M simply walked onstage, began the concert and mesmerized 10,000 hearts.
Mary Travers, your silky voice will always resonate in my core.
I completed my three week tour of rural Cambodia with writer Joel Brinkley.Everday was challenging and surprising for the experiences we had visiting with people who told amazing stories of thier lives, the terrible ordeal of the Khmer Rouge and how they cope with a rather dysfunctional government. We visited hospitals, small villages, government officials and often found our best stories simply by luck. I've posted these images in hopes that you will continue on to the website gallery for additional photos and information. The link to the gallery is: http://archive.jaymather.org/c/mather/gallery-collection/Cambodia-1979-2009/P00004llkaurlo_0. Or simply click on the Photo Shelter Gallery link on the right to see all the galleries.
The Cambodian national torment is the Khmer Rouge era. In 1979 when survivors were arriving in Thailand the horrific stories they brought with them sounded unimaginable, yet true. Today, thirty years later I had the opportunity to see the places where genocide happened. One place just 15 km outside of Phnom Penh, is Choeng Ek, one of the "killing fields." Numerous mass graves have been uncovered, leaving a pock-marked landscape where victims were bludgeoned to death in order to save bullets. People come and walk silently along the dirt paths that rim the craters. In some areas, remnants of clothing and shards of bone are visible. A monument in the center of the complex has a ten-layer repository of skulls. It is a somber, sad place.
A second is the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum in the center of Phnom Penh. Known during the Khmer Rouge regime as S-21, the former high school was converted to a torture and execution center for anyone thought to be in opposition to the mandates of Pol Pot. Between 1975 and 1979, 10,519 people were brought from throughout Cambodia, held for several months, tortured in a myriad of despicable ways, then executed. Only two survived, one a photographer who made haunting mug shots of every inmate and an artist who promised he could portray Pol Pot in a favorable manner but also painted depictions of the torture methods.
A steady stream of people move quietly through the halls and into the rooms full of hundreds of the photographic portraits and paintings. Many are Cambodians coming with their families. They stare at the photos, reach out to touch. I'm reminded of of the respect and reverence that visitors to the Viet Nam Memorial show. S-21 is Cambodia's "Wall."
In another section of the complex rooms with stark steel bed frames and shackles that bound the prisoners remind the visitors that cruelty and crudity are inseparable. Two floors of another building are full of small cubicles constructed from brick and mortar or wood where prisoners were crammed into the spaces to await their fate.
This was a necessary tour for me, not pleasant yet as haunting and memorable as anywhere I have ever been.