One of the good things about using the 4x5 view camera is that if there are only one or two good photographs in front of you, you can just make the one or two.  At least with the Pentax 67 the roll only allows 10 exposures.  Having made them, though, there was only one image I was happy with which is presented below.  This little tree continues to thrive despite its precarious lake edge perch.  I made the photograph just as the sun was about to rise above the stand of trees directly behind this little guy. 

I see it's been a while since I've posted here. At last, today I got up before dawn, went out with the camera, and exposed a roll at sunrise.  I'm about to develop it, and I'll post what I hope will be at least two good images from the ten negatives when I see them.  But, while futzing around in the darkroom, I found a print I must have made in the very late nineties.  It's on RC paper that I haven't used since then, and the place the photograph was taken is Blue Mountain Reservation in Westchester County where I used to live.  I still like the image, although I did crop it a bit in keeping with the way I currently 'see'.

I've been too busy for photography these past six weeks.  But, on Friday, though tired after work, I couldn't resist the fog and muted light as I passed Croton Point Park on the drive home.  The weather has been fairly mild, so I had the Pentax kit and 'pod in the trunk, and wandered down to  the Hudson to see if it were worth putting film in the camera.  I think it was.

 

Near my home there are two lakes that I pass every day.   Round Lake is the one that's most accessible, and where I've taken the most photographs.  Walton Lake is much more difficult to photograph because there is no road shoulder to stop on, and the only two places one can park are a great distance away from the most interesting subjects.  But, last weekend I was seduced by fog and the puddled ice, and hiked here with the camera.  I've long wanted to photograph this tree, and did once in a way I wasn't happy with, but fog allowed it to be isolated from the background, and me to be happy to make this image.  It seems so lonely and fragile, but I'm sure it's happy where it is, and will thrive and grow for decades.

When Mannes and Godowsky developed color film in the 1920's and '30's, they must have been inspired by spring and fall; certainly not by the drear of winter in the northeast.  Except on bright sunny days, nature wears a monochrome mantle for nearly half a year.  Snow restricts the palette even more, and it's very difficult to generate an interesting photograph without other elements like water, ice, and sky.  A long drive in the country yesterday didn't result in seeing anything worth stopping the car for until coming to this little stream that snaked and meandered through a sparse grove of trees. It's not uncommon for streams to wind like this, but it is uncommon for them to do so over such a small distance.  Just right for the 135mm lens! 

In winter, the Hudson River is not only dynamic in its tides and currents, but also in the tremendous power of its ice.  Standing on the river's western shore in Cornwall, I was astonished at the roar it made as it floated on the south flowing current, crashing into enormous masses of previously shattered ice.  I imagined it to be a model of what tectonic plates must be like as they fracture the earth's crust in their inexorable movement.  In several months, the ice will be gone, but the rocks it has rearranged, the piers and landings it has damaged, and the newly carved scars in the banks of the river will remain. 

Once again I found myself at Round Lake with the camera last week.  If you saw the lake today, you'd see ice fisherman sitting on their stools, some with what look like porta-potties for shelter, and others just sitting with their ice augers beside them and fishing poles in hand.  We've had a spell of intense arctic air, and the temperatures are at or below 0 degrees Farenheit at night.  Now the ice is thick and will last a long time.  It also has a thin coat of snow, so the once interesting surface is a sheet of flat, white stuff void of detail and visual interest.

But, last week, when this photograph was taken, the lake hadn't made much of a commitment to  solidity, and anyone venturing out on it would have gotten very wet, very quickly.  I've no idea how these radiating breaks in the ice occur, but they give ample warning to humans, at least, to stay on shore. 

Monroe, NY is barely a blip on the map. It's a  commuter town about 50+ miles from NYC.  There isn't a lot of visual appeal here....a small business district that some moron thought would be more attractive if 'modernized'.  So charming, but elderly storefronts were demolished, and contemporary facades were substituted.  There's simply zero character left save one stroke of genius.  The Goose Pond!!  It is a very popular park as well as true haven for geese! They flock here in great numbers littering the ground with their 'presence'!!

One foggy morning recently, which is a rarity in itself, found me near this mile and a half path for walkers and joggers that circumscribes the banks of the pond.  It was foggy, and icy, and tempting enough for me to get out the gear and go for a walk until I chose this to photograph.


Update:  Yesterday, February 4th. all these trees were cut down, chopped up, and carted away.  I was so sad to see that happen.  It just seems that the town fathers in Monroe can't abide charm and beauty, and do whatever they can to expunge it. 

As I've noted before, fog is a rarity in this area, especially fog that lingers for more than a few hours in the morning.  But on a Saturday, when I can go out with the camera, fog that lasts well into the day is too good to ignore.  I drove around for quite a while looking for something like these two subjects.  And, in some remote part of my mind I knew I'd find something worthwhile to photograph in this place which is a dairy farm not very far from where I live. But, before arriving where these were made, I got myself lost on rural roads that were beautiful in their own right if not particularly photogenic. Both of these photographs were made at Belleville Farm in Orange County, New York.

What's unseen in the top picture, are the hundreds and hundreds of Canada geese sitting in the field just behind the tree.  Had I done something to roust them into flight,  they would have darkened the sky yet more than it was.  But....I didn't do that!  

Driving home on the Saturday that I made this photograph, the light and aerial drama was compelling enough to stop the car and set up the Pentax 67 kit.  As this view is of the WNW into the lowering sun, the polarizing filter would not have done a thing to bring out the values in the sky...but a Red 25A would!  And...it did.

I continue to photograph the places that are most familiar to me, because they are also the places whose variations I'm most sensitized to.  I would be surprised if one were to photograph a person he knew well only once.  Smiling, frowning, sympathetic, irritated, happy, sad, laughing, crying and an endless variety of other expressions are the stuff we all know about those with whom we share our lives. Why petrify only a single  moment?  Portraiture could be a dynamic portfolio. 

The landscape is also like that.  Sunny, cloudy, foggy, rainy, snowy, icy, and the infinite nuances of each of those states recast and transfigure the natural world.  These two photographs, made a week apart, are of a willow by Round Lake that I've photographed often. I'm sure it will continue to be the subject of many photographs to come.

Now and then I revisit really old work to see how it looks years later.  The upper of these two images is one of the first photographs I made that I liked well enough to print and show.  I had very little experience printing and even less mounting and matting let alone scanning and presenting on line.  Still, I was happy with what I had learned to do.  It was well received on the critique forum that I posted it to.

When I began making prints in the late 90's I printed on RC (resin coated) paper, and hadn't a clue about toning nor thought it was even necessary.  Apparently I reconsidered soon thereafter, because this is a scan of a print made on FB (fiber based) paper, and is fairly presentable.  At the time I only made prints in sizes that would fit pre-cut mats whether the image was best suited to that size or not.

But the second image takes advantage of a dozen years of experience with a negative I might not even consider making today.  It's cropped and toned, and eliminates areas that are extraneous to the point of the picture which is the silvery banks of the little stream.  As I now cut my own mats, the picture is cropped to best suit the image, and is easy to mount in whatever dimensions that crop may dictate.  I, of course, prefer that latter one, but other viewers may think the original vision is best.  However, it's out of my hands now; let the viewer choose the former, the latter or neither!  ;-)

The two images below were made in 2005 in the black dirt region of Orange County, NY.  I was driving around that area after a snowfall, and stopped with the camera because the sky was getting dramatic enough to be interesting.  Setting up the 4x5 view camera takes a good deal longer than a fixed lens camera, and I'm sure I missed a few good exposures with the slower machine, but I'm grateful for these two at least.

I've had mixed feelings about this photograph over the years since I made it.  On one hand, it's a fairly commonplace record of a man made waterfall, but on the other, it has a decidedly 19th century sensibility to it that I really respond to...old concrete, and an ancient stream that would be musty with age if it were indoors.  When I first printed it, I was not toning in sepia and selenium as I do now.  That toning makes a big difference in evoking the sense of relative antiquity that I think is inherent here.

It was made with my first view camera, a monorail 4x5 OmegaView using a 210mm Rodenstock  Geronar lens. 

I'm not sure how many times I've photographed Round Lake, but it has been often.  It's an easy place to visit, being close by, and as I pass it every day I witness its infinite variations.  The lake is beautiful in fog, in evening and morning light, in winter snow and ice, in calm and still air, and in seasonal color.  It has been the subject of probably the most extensive series of images I've made that I'm happy with.  I expect I'll get around to assembling all the prints I've made over the last several years, and offer them to any local venue that would like to show them.

This one is from late October.  If I were a slave to photoshop I'd have cloned out the leaves on the water, but, as I'm not, I chose to let them remain as I found them.  I've just made a darkroom print of this and it reveals even more leaves than you see in this scan.  Verite! 

Fog isn't as common here as I wish it were, and when it does show up in the early morning, I'm usually on my way to work.  But yesterday a fog had lingered until I returned, and I immediately got the camera and went behind our house to record what I saw.  Here are three of those images.  Even though they are not in the actual colors of the scene, for me at least, they achieve the sense and vibrations of lingering autumn leaves. 

Pond scum is inevitable.  It accumulates to the point of completely covering the surface of ponds and shallow lakes until cool weather ends its season. It's often rather boring...kinda like looking at a random group of clouds that doesn't resemble anything you can read into it.  But, sometimes as the scum ebbs a bit, what remains gets together and dances!  In a breeze driven spiral, this patch of scum was beautiful to me. 

Autumn color is at peak this weekend.  It's incredibly beautiful with saturated yellows, reds, and oranges.  Today is sunny, and the leafy brilliance is dazzling.  But, yesterday was rainy and clouded over which kept the color rich and soft without the glare and intensity that sunlight creates.  Of course, photographs in monochrome can't rely on the chroma of the leaves, but can rely on their values, especially against a strongly contrasting background.  These two photographs were made yesterday in a tiny little park that is bordered by busy roads.  The stream here was swollen with the day's rain, and there were countless fallen leaves that had been detached from their trees by its pelting.  I was happy that enough were left to make these images.  They'll almost certainly be gone in the next few days. 

Equipment is very much secondary to me when making photographs, but it is important.  Almost anything will do if I understand how to use it effectively.  I've been using a spot meter for years until just recently when I bought a metering prism for the Pentax 67.  At first, it seemed to eat batteries within minutes, and I thought I'd have to return it to KEH, but I bought fresh batteries and they've not discharged nor failed.  This is an image from the first roll of film I've used metering with the prism.  I'm pretty happy with what turned out in difficult lighting.  It's a photograph I made on the way home from a very satisfying visit to a gallery that liked the box of prints I showed.  Where that will lead is unknown, but it was a good experience.

As I no longer make small (8X10) prints, most of the images that are posted here are negative scans that attempt to emulate their paper print doppelgangers.  But, this is a print scan from a negative I made a bunch of years ago.  I like it enough to want to reprint it in the manner I now utilize that will crop from the original (as has been done here), and be lightly toned in thiocarbamide and selenium.

For photography, skeletal trees are far more interesting in their winter dormancy than during their leafy lives.  Of course, in autumn, the riot of their color is irresistible, but so tenuous that only the memory of their brilliance remains. Their symmetry, shape, and elegance is best revealed when they're shorn of their 'other' season's cloak.

This site is close to the former home of my all-time dearest cello student who witnessed it every winter day.  I just got it down on film and paper.  Here's to you, kiddo!!

Having an extensive archive of negatives is a treat when making new ones isn't easy or even possible.  On a dreary and unpromising day, time in the darkroom or on the computer scanning some that haven't received much attention is a pleasure.  Some negatives may percolate for years until, when seeing them again, there is renewed enthusiasm for what prompted me to make them in the first place.  This is one of those lost children that is now back in the family. Abstract to the point that I've lost the memory of its original orientation, I've chosen to make it vertical.  Horizontal, though, wouldn't be wrong either.

This photograph was made during August of 2008 at Marineland beach in northern Florida.  The negative is rather thin, and I never bothered to print it.  I did scan it, however, and fussed with it in PhotoShop until it looked as it does here.  Yesterday, I decided to give it a chance in the darkroom, and to my surprise, it printed rather easily with a grade 5 filter that offers the most contrast that is available with the paper and enlarger...it's referred to as a "hard" filter.  The print is darker and richer than this scan, but, nonetheless, I'm really glad it now exists beyond the virtual.

The irony of this is almost humorous as I am soooo not religious...anti-religious wouldn't be inaccurate.  But...out in the early morning looking for something to photograph, this stopped the car immediately.   It was the first time I used a new-to-me TTL (Thru The Lens metering) pentaprism for the Pentax 67, and it worked extremely well...there are almost no photoshop adjustments.  I guess my sins will be forgiven for today at least!  ;-)

It's not often I make photographs of Walton Lake at the bottom of the hill where we live.  But this little spot has occasionally been worthwhile, and this morning it had this to offer.

I've wondered about this photograph ever since I made it nearly a year ago.  It's vague...barely there...but still, for me at least, conjures a mood.  It's ghostly, and ephemeral, but invites curiosity about what's behind the fog; the antithesis of the clarity that I typically look for.  This is a negative scan, but I think it will be a toned print by the end of tomorrow!

I've been examining images of the Hudson River that I've made over a period of years, and very recently.  It's a beautiful place, and as a stable bit of scenery the effects of time of day and events of weather allow for endless variety.  I've made many negatives and a number of prints from this vantage point that I'm happy with. 

The photograph below was made on my commute home from work in 2005.  I just happened to have my 4x5 kit in the trunk, and when I saw what presented itself, I got the kit ready in record time!  That little cloud in the larger one was a lucky bit of timing...it was gone seconds later!  "Chance favors the prepared mind." or in this case the efficient photographer.

There is no end to the variations on a theme invited by an agreeable subject. Though I've posted several, and not too dissimilar images of this scene, I really like this variation.  I'll get some darkroom time tomorrow, and this will be a strong candidate for printing.

Older negatives survive unscathed by time if they're worthy, and die a younger death if they're not.  It's a bit weird to post an image from this past winter, wimpy though it was, when the temperature outside is in the 90's, but I like it enough to buck the season.  Taken beside Moodna Trestle.

My wide angle lens (55mm) for the medium format Pentax 67 camera is becoming my favorite.  It used to be that that role was played by a medium telephoto (135mm) because I felt that the fewer elements it covered helped make compositions more coherent.  But, the larger view has compositional imperatives of its own, and I'm enjoying responding to them.  It's a different way of seeing. 

In the creative arts it is often said, with liberal exaggeration, that 10,000 negatives, poems, essays, stories, films and musical works need to be made and discarded before a true voice is able to emerge from the slag heap.  As a cellist, I'm pretty sure I've paid my dues in hours, and effort.  In photography, I'm still workin' on it!

Below is one from this past winter that I want to print in the darkroom.  I had almost no time to set up the 'pod and camera for this, and was happy to get what was left of quickly changing scene. 

I like this photograph.  But, I like it more because it's the first time I've used "curves" in photoshop to solve a problem that's easily fixed in the darkroom...burning in the sky at a harder contrast than the ground (split grading).

Students of classical musical instruments, who are being guided intelligently, now are learning a host of skills that hidebound conservatories of my generation never would have deigned to offer.  That was due to both an elitist attitude and a total ignorance of popular idioms, improvisation, and creative new directions for the instruments being mastered.  Though I'm not likely to regain that ground as a cellist, I can certainly attempt to do so with photography.  Yes, I'm late to the digital party, but I'm determined to catch up as much as possible.  I will never abandon what I've learned traditionally, but I will expand the tool kit, as I've mentioned before, to include new skills I've been timid to try!

It's not easy to find the best light and weather conditions for other than post card photographs in the full sun of summer.  There's rarely any fog, mist, or other interesting phenomena once the sun is fairly high.  I ended up driving a very long way to find anything that interested me.  I made these just north of the "Hawks Nest" scenic roadway along the Delaware River within a state park.

The work I do in the summer time makes if difficult to take the camera out.  This weekend (July 14th and 15th), however I had the chance.  The first is a view of fields and sky in Pine Island I visited on Saturday...the black dirt region of Orange County, NY.  The second is of the lake at the bottom of the hill we live on very early this Sunday morning. 

For work, I usually get up at about 4:15AM every day.  This past Saturday (June 23rd) I got up then anyway so that I could drive to the places I pass on my daily commute that I can't stop to photograph. And those places can be gorgeous.  The two images below were made as I stood on the Bear Mountain Bridge between about 6:15 and 7:30 AM on the 23rd.  There was a dense, low cloud that wouldn't disperse despite the strong breeze I was feeling on the bridge. Eventually, though, the rising mist allowed me to photograph the upper of these two, and the lower, taken earlier, bypassed the low cloud altogether and appreciated the sky.

I've been reviewing the negatives from Bethlehem,  and have decided that I'd like to add one more to the several posted below.  I think this subject is grist for a whole body of work, but I only had a brief time with it, and wish it could have been much longer.

Perkins Memorial Drive is a road on which l have ridden my bicycle to the top of Bear Mountain (back when I was in very good form!).  Most annoying are the barriers that preclude parking a car anywhere along it. It's great for hikers, though, and the view of below is spectacular.  As there were no park police cruising the area during the early morning hour I made this photograph, I was able to park where I wanted to, but wasn't supposed to.  So...here is the result of my crime!

Every working day I drive slowly across the Hudson River on the Bear Mountain Bridge.  It is a brief trip spanning the river just below Fort Clinton where the American revolutionary army belted a huge chain just below and across the water to stop British warships from any further northward progress. Just beyond the bridge is West Point. (Sometimes I'm saluted on this bridge by cadets on their morning run, the most polite and respectful young adults you could ever want to meet.)  

There are no end of mornings that take one's breath away with their beauty here.  Clouds, mist, fog, wind, haze, snow, rain, and all their nuances are stunning, but while driving, not possible to photograph.   Today (May 28th) I didn't have to make the trip due to the Memorial Day holiday, but I did anyway just in case. I didn't think it likely there would be much to see as day dawned in warm haze.  I nearly turned around to go home when I saw fog in the distance. Yes!!  So, I finished the trip.  Here are three from the two rolls I used. If I could stop every morning that seduced me visually, I'd go into debt buying film.  (Yeah...I know...I could shoot digitally for next to nothing.  Sorry...not interested.)