Architecture
I couldn't resist posting one more High Art Museum (Atlanta) interior. Like the other one, I think that this photo shows one of the reasons I like most art museums: there is great light and warm wooden floors (that often creak when you walk on them.)
I used the HDR mode on my Canon 5DIII for a series of shots in the CNN Center because there was a sizable difference between the very bright part of this interior (above and to the left of the CNN sign) and the relatively dark part (underneath the canopies a little to my right.)I could have gone with a photo-realistic treatment of this scene when I processed the shots in Aperture/NIK HDR Efex Pro 2 but I picked one that gives this a bit of a cartoonish look. Do I like it? I'm not sure. What do you think? Be honest. . . .(The people at the table in front of me are photographers who are/were attending the ImagingUSA conference. I didn't get a model release because this is a public space and they had no expectation of privacy. I do believe I'm on the right side of the law.)
Today's image was taken only a short time after yesterday's and yet they seem to me to be a world apart. And, frankly, I enjoy the world depicted in this photo.This photo was taken at the High Art Museum of Atlanta and I was lucky enough to visit shortly after it opened on a Saturday morning. And for much of the time I was there, I had several of the galleries to myself, including this one of the top floor of the main wing.There is a juxtaposition of warm and cool tones in this photo, accentuated by the way my camera sees light. The wood floor is very warm of course, but the ceiling light (which is daylight) is obviously blue. Did the designers of this space consider this? I would guess they did . . .
I am in Atlanta, Georgia, for a few days to attend the annual Imaging USA conference. And four of my Lake Area Technical Institute photo/media students are with me. It should be a good experience for all of us.This photo was taken on the run. I was more interested in getting to our hotel than taking photos but I couldn't resist when I saw this scene. But instead of taking my big camera out of the bag, I snapped a single iPhone photo.When I photograph architecture, I look for symmetry, which is kind of the opposite of what I look for in landscapes. But in both, I look for lines and texture. And there are lines and texture galore in this photo. . . .
This is the third photo of the same abandoned farmstead I have posted recently. And having posted this today, I am abandoning the abandoned farm theme. At least for a while.
This is a closer view of one of the two buildings pictured yesterday. This photo was taken right around sunrise and it occurs to me that this old building has lived to see a lot more sunrises than I have.I asked my first year photography students recently to tell me what they thought a photographer was and Bjorn, a person whom I think has great promise, suggested that a photographer is a person who engages in time travel - that photographers have the power to take those who view their photos to a particular place in time. It was an astounding and unexpected answer. And of course, Bjorn's answer has me thinking. . . .I realize, for example, that while my photos allow me to do my own kind of time travel in that they help me remember things that I have seen and experienced, they also have the power to do the same for the viewer. You may have never been to this particular place, but it may remind you of similar places.Photos like this may have another emotive power, too. It's not hard to see the ghosts of those who lived at this farmstead. I look at this scene and can see the farmer's wife stepping through the door to check for fresh eggs, I can see the children playing in the tall, prairie grass and I can see the farmer working the distant field with his simple tractor.To me, this way of life exists in my imagination as I am a "city boy." But to many South Dakotans, this life still exists. It is as real and predictable as the the South Dakota sunrise.Canon 1DII 1/6s f/9.0 ISO100 17mm
I took this photo on September 5, 2004, and it's been in a virtual shoebox ever since. As my regular readers perhaps know, I am a photo packrat and from time to time I go digging for stuff I did a long time ago. You will also know that I return to the same places again and again. And this old farmstead is a good example.What I like about this particular photo is the sense of loneliness it conveys. The black and white treatment and the odd, dull sky help with this. And speaking of the sky, the real reason I converted to black and white is that the interesting bands that seem to emanate from the right hand side, were not really visible in the original color version. These buildings still stand after all these years, though I suspect that someday they will be torn down."Nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky." Kansas - "Dust In the Wind"Canon 1DII 1/2s f/11.0 ISO200 29mm
About a mile down the coast from the resort we stayed at recently in Mexico was a ruined resort once known as the Robinson Club. The story is that it was hit with two hurricanes. Apparently, it also had ecological issues and the resort was ultimately closed.To our family, the Robinson Club isn't just a ruined resort - it was the first resort we stayed at 15 years ago. And all of us have fond memories of the place. The resort was beautiful, the beach was perfect and the mostly German and generally zany staff made people feel like old friends.Scott, my brother-in-law, my nephew Matt and I ventured on to the property one afternoon and explored and reminisced. Our explorations were cut short by two young men wielding machetes. Though they didn't speak English, they made it clear that we weren't welcome and so we made a quick exit. (Though I did go back early a couple mornings later.)Here are all of the photos I took of this sad, ruined place.The last several photos are of the sauna area, which also turned out to be the "clothing optional" compound. The Germans staying at the resort the week we were there liked their freedom!
I am taking a bit of a break from my blog and so I thought I'd post a few of my favorites.
The Pantheon, my favorite building in all of Rome, is 1,886 years old. Today, I turn 59. In Europe, the Pantheon is considered an antique. In America, I am. Ponder that on this 18th day of December, 2012 (AD).
Warm sunlight bathes the east facade of the Terry Redlin Center in Watertown, South Dakota.
If you were to lie flat on your back in the central chamber of the Codington County Court House, this is what you'd see. I didn't lie on my back to get this photo, though I did lie my Canon camera on its back. It helped to use the 16mm-35mm lens. :-)