Yesterday I went to Minneapolis and Saint Paul with a few of the second year LATI photo/media students. This photo was taken on our last stop at the Como Park Conservatory, which is a great place to visit on a cold December day in part because it is warm and humid inside and in part because the color green abounds. And, as I've mentioned, in winter here in South Dakota, I seem to be drawn to green things.
So I like green and yet I've stripped the color out of this fern. Why? As a photographer I sometimes like lines, texture and tonality and sometime color distracts us from those things. Over the next few days I will posting a few of my favorites from the Conservatory and from the Minneaplis Institute of Art, where we also stopped for a while. If you want a sneak peak, I've posted a few more photos here. (click)
Canon 5DIII 1/50s f/6.3 ISO500 100mm
Someone once suggested that "Countless unseen details are often the difference between the mediocre and the magnificent." When I teach photography, this is one of my many mantras: what helps our work rise above all of the billions of photos being taken is our close attention to details and our true understanding of what those details are.
When Deb and I paid the entrance fee for the Lauritzen Gardens in Omaha, Nebraska, a few weeks ago, we weren't expecting much given that the gardens were past bloom and prepared for winter. But we were surprised by what we found. And even if we hadn't found anything worth seeing, it would have been good just to stroll through a largely deserted landscape on a nice November day.
It occurs to me that in the Black Hills of South Dakota, where this photo was taken, the ponderosa pine is visual white noise in that there are so many of them and, unless they are fallen or bug infested or on fire, they are rarely seen.
My friend Dennis Newman, who is an artist and an art/photography instructor, says that good art (including photographs) should invoke emotion. I heard him say that about a year ago and since then I have tested most of the photos I post here with this question: "What do I want my viewers to feel and think?" Not all of the photos I post have a certain answer to this question, though I've been posting long enough to know that what I feel as the photographer isn't always the same as what you feel as the viewer. Such is the nature of art. . .
Deb and I took a hike through a nature area on our visit to St. John in the US Virgin Islands this past June. I spent quite a bit of time photographing the plants that grew on plants here, much like this air plant is growing on the side of a small tree, which is also host to a vine that is curling upward. Are these plants friendly and helpful to each other? And is that what symbiosis means? Or are we seeing evidence of parasitism?
At the end of one of my photography classes the other day, I asked if there were any questions. During the minute or two that I waited, I was greeted with silence. I told the class that their silence may be due to their shyness, their total understanding of everything I taught, or their confusion. I did point out in a friendly way that "teachers don't drive the best learning; curiosity does."
So today's photo is a huge leap from what I've been posting the last couple days. Is there some plan that I have so that I can keep my viewers off balance? No. In fact, the number of views I get when I post kids goes way up. Today's photo won't get a third of the hits yesterday's got. But that's OK with me. . . . 