HDR Photography
Wine country in the fall is a little slice of heaven. The rain had passed, the last of the fogs and cloud were rolling past the distant hills, and the golden vines are drifting into hibernation for the colder season. Perhaps vineyards are the best combination of the sophisticated and the bucolic. If nothing else, the slightly artificial reality of Napa contrasts starkly with the slightly artificial urbanity of Berkeley.
I felt that marvelous excitement of the first walk with a brand new camera (my D7000, in this case). The sun was slipping past the ivy-encrusted trees in just the right way yesterday, and it felt so fantastic to take this shot.
The labs of the Energy Biosciences Building (which, incidentally, looks quite pretty from the outside, as well) are brand new. Just weeks after the lab opened, the desks are already cluttered with equipment. I particularly liked the orange glass dividers running down the desks.
UC Berkeley’s Doe Library is impressive enough during the day, but when it’s lit up at night (from inside and outside), it’s truly imposing. On this particular evening, the ruby hue of its exterior really caught my eye.
I am a spectroscopist, and this is my laser. It’s enormous, it’s fiendishly complicated, and it takes an enormous amount of time to keep it cooperative. Nonetheless, I can learn about the basic motions of molecules with it.
The farther along I get, the more I realize that the system basically amounts to Legos for big kids.
Skyscrapers really are marvels of engineering. Just think about what it takes to erect one of these massive buildings. I captured this shot in the financial district of San Francisco on a recent outing and decided to see what I could capture by pointing my wide angle lens straight up at some buildings from the sidewalk. Looking up at the sky like this really makes you feel small.
For every bustling San Francisco street, there’s a quiet alleyway like this one. The details of the setting at sunset really jump out: the cracked concrete and lumpy pavement, the intricate fire escapes and the peeling paint. Ninja Turtles are coming out of that manhole cover at any moment.
This is the tail-end of the multi-cell system used in my research group to apply monolayers (one molecule thick) to single crystals of silver. It’s a bit amazing how such a wild sentence can become mundane with years of exposure. In any case, I really love the intricacy and attention that has been applied to every bolt and wire; scientific equipment is the ultimate in utilitarian design.
In the summer, the Berkeley fire trails become dry and brown. For years, the best part of wandering along those trails is reaching this little evergreen grove on a hill above the dry grass and dirt. Mist from passing clouds leaves droplets of water throughout it, and for a moment, I imagine that I’m riding an island in that sea of grass.
Not far from the notoriously dystopian Salton Sea, the deserts of California are astonishingly alienating places. A few barren mountains etch the horizon, and other than lonely power lines and the path of a motorcycle across the dust, there are few signs of other human beings around. The intensity of the sun made me question the wisdom of being out there at all.
It always amazes me how dense San Francisco’s Chinatown is. The number of store fronts on this block alone is staggering, and coupled with the number of cars parked along the sides of the street it feels very claustrophobic. At the same time it makes it seem busy, even though there are really only a handful of people in the shot. It just seems like there should be a lot going on here.
Though shots of tree branches are a bit cliche, I was really taken by the massive ginko tree on Berkeley’s campus. On a rainy day, when the leaves are turning to a bright yellow and the bark has that perfect texture, the tree looks like a panel from a Calvin and Hobbes Sunday strip.
I feel like there’s a very set picture of what San Francisco looks like to people, the skyline that is depicted is usually the financial district or something including Alcatraz and/or the Golden Gate bridge. On the other hand people sort of know that San Francisco is populated with rows of apartments with bay windows on impossibly steep hills, but they don’t get the big picture here. San Francisco is at its core a sprawling city filled with such apartments and there isn’t just one hill but several. That’s what I tried to capture here, a sunset over what I believe is Russian Hill, looking down from one hill up to another.
In between the bouts of rain, we slipped up to wine country this weekend. Autumn is in full swing, and the fields of grape vines have turned to the perfect combination of reds and golds. It’s easy to get lost in those vines, for just a moment, until I popped my head up and took this picture. Across the sea of color, you can catch the hints of other vineyards and hills dotting the countryside.
San Francisco features this incredibly rapid transition from enormous, modernist towers to older, mostly wooden structures. This transition seems to be located, at least partially, along the divides between the flat portions of the city and the truly, insanely steep bits. Today’s photograph shows the full gradient between the two zones. I particularly like the two tiny figures, sitting on the steps, in the bottom right corner of the image. This tiny detail provides a little bit of a human element to an otherwise dehumanizing scale. They seem to be silent observers, casually taking in the flow of traffic as the sun’s last photons scatter through the atmosphere.
Decaseconds 