Part of a series of works by Dan Flavin, featured in the National Gallery Salm Palace in Prague.
This post represents a big moment for me: the first image from my new Sony α7R IV. This is only the third serious digital camera; my first was a Nikon D3100, and I’ve been shooting primarily with a D7000 for the past eight years. The capabilities from a decade of technological advancement and the engineering switch to a mirrorless design have pretty-well blown my mind. I really recommend clicking through to Flicker to look at this image at full scale—the tiny pinpricks of each star, the details in the windows of every building. The 61-MP capabilities of the α7R IV maybe be considered overkill by some, but I’m finding it to be the perfect tool for the kinds of “zoom in forever”-detailed photographs that I love to produce.
While Prague Castle’s position on a hilltop is apparent from the south side, the opposite side of the fortress is equally isolated from its surroundings by a steep and wooded hillside.
In the winding waters above Lampson Falls, slow currents make for a placid surface. On a still (yet much more wintery day), my mind has wandered back to warm spring evenings in places other than my office.
I’ve long looked to capture gradients from nature to civilization in my images, but I think this one captures a gradient, instead, through time. The foreground, among the Royal Gardens of Prague Castle, seems so ancient in contrast with Old Town in the middle-distance and the twentieth-century additions to the city on the horizon.
Where Illinois meets Lake Michigan, a sunny winter afternoon makes a natural instance of the “classic” orange and teal look.
Kundera’s The Unbearable Lightness of Being takes place in these environs of Prague, and something of the dramatic clouds and deep black of this image reminded me of that novel.