HDR Photography
Continuing my observations of the end of the year are a couple of photographs of campus buildings that have a bit of literal spirit to them. First is Sykes Hall, one of the older dorms. With the full moon by the tower and the HDR’ed light trails (a happy accident), the scene says “Halloween in May.”
ODY Library doesn’t have the same old-school creepiness, but rather that brutalist, Soviet vibe that says the ghosts must be a bit more modern.
For my little mini-project of documenting the end of the school year at St. Lawrence (previous days showed the cars, and the dorms, and the boat house, and the emotional remembrances), I also wanted to capture the interior of the slightly creepy Herring-Cole Hall at the end of finals week. Only a single student is still toughing it out to the end.
Friday marked the end of exams, and students and faculty alike celebrated by checking canoes and kayaks out of this little boat house on St. Lawrence’s campus. (If it’s true that our school resembles a ski resort in the winter, it also resembles a summer camp during the warmer months of the year.) Nothing really says the year is done (and grading with it) like floating along in complete relaxation.
Continuing this week of “end of the school year,” calming-of-the-campus photographs is this landscape over the quad: An ocean of light and shadow (pardon the cliché) divides the new Kirk Douglass Hall (a.k.a. “the new dorm”) from the rememberer.
The end of the school year (with the mixed feelings I discussed in my last post) has arrived, so I’ve decided to dedicate this week and next to documenting the feeling of a college campus as it quiets down for the summer. When it comes time to eject from the campus bubble and head out, is there any vehicle that captures the vibe of the northeastern college student better than a rusty, ski-rack-enhanced old Saab?
The first image, with its sunset and tempting road in the background, might have been all I needed to capture the vibe of this particular Swedish sleeper, but I didn’t want to let it go without documenting the worn bumper stickers dotting the back: stickers from another school (an older sibling, or the original owner?), the current school (SPORTS!), and an assortment of ski resorts.
The end of the school year has finally arrived (I’m proctoring a final as we speak), and that leads to a lot of complicated emotions for graduating seniors: relief, regret, nostalgia, hope, etc. In a disused utility stairwell between a loading dock and a backstage prep area, I found this charming little shrine/still life. In the context of the space and the moment, I can’t begin to imagine what kind of meaning this structure contains. There’s a lovely symmetry though, isn’t there?
In the fall of 2013 at St. Lawrence University (on Parents’ Weekend, no less!), the gorgeous old copper steeple of Gunnison Memorial Chapel burned down from an electrical fire. Renovations and repairs are finally done, and the new copper steeple was delivered yesterday. Today, it will be hoisted up and returned to the top of the repaired bell tower, but last night I paid it a visit during the blue hour to get a feeling for the scale of the structure.
On a day much like today, ready for rain but without any guarantees, a hint of blue sky is an eyeball magnet.
There’s an elegant symmetry to the bars and netting against the larger, wooden structure of Appleton Arena (home of the Skating Saints).
I swear that this shot is a candid: no posing or planning went into the moment. A little image of American aristocracy, expressed as Anglophilia: the thick hedge, the English riding garb, the friendly pony ears, the quiet attention. The cover of some future magazine, perhaps?
Though I don’t often show my photography from the people/photojournalism/street mode, I couldn’t resist this image of Mario Deslauriers and clan at the Lake Placid Grand Prix in Lake Placid, New York last summer. The dark greens and stark whites, with the bokeh’ed horse in the background, meld to a vibe that I would call “fresh.”
When the perfect blanket of snow is gone and mid-spring is grimy and gritty, I kind of miss the winter.
When the crust of winter slides off the landscape, the points and lines of the resting geometry beneath are exposed on foggy days like these. In Duchess County, where Connecticut meets New York, the density of the post-winter effect is damp. It has its own beauty, apart from snow-blasted winters or verdant summers. (And by contrast, this “melt season” represents a major chunk of the North Country’s spring attitude.)
A bucolic vision of the North country: a field of munching sheep, a barn and silo in the distance, a stand of trees, a simple fence, and a gentle brook. Spring is charming when it finally arrives.
Waking up early on a cold morning can be tough, but riders never seem to have trouble getting up for a show. (Caffeine seems to help!) I loved the moment of calm and intimacy between horse and rider in this particular image, and the comfort it conveys.
The combination of chestnut horse and bright red Coke can also goes a long way to making the scarlet and brown St. Lawrence color scheme appealing.
Decaseconds 