HDR Photography
The colors in Brazil were incredibly intense; the oversaturated blues and greens are just inescapable. Even in winter, everything is lush. But here, at the elegant, 1960s pool bar, the season is more obvious. There’s no way a scene this gorgeous would be so eerily abandoned at the height of summer.
In the evenings San Francisco’s Coit tower is illuminated creating a pretty spectacular effect.
This weekend, I finally conquered a serious challenge: organizing my ancient photo collection. As I went through it, I found some photographs from almost a decade ago. Unfortunately, they weren’t taken with a DSLR, but I’m presenting them here as a taste of compositions, colors, and places that aren’t otherwise found on Decaseconds that frequently. With no further ado:
This is the creek, behind my childhood home, where I spent countless hours building castles, bridges, and walls from sticks and stones. The water comes from the top of nearby Mt. Riga, and is icy cold through most of the year. Somehow, we still managed to handle swimming in it during the summer.
This picture shows the Long Walk of Trinity College in Hartford, CT. This is the oldest part of the school, built when the campus moved to its current location in 1863. This particular day at the end of November was the first snow of the year. Everyone is just a bit surprised, the leaves are still on the trees, and the snow seems wetter than at any other time.
This photograph was taken at the top of Mt. Monadnock in New Hampshire. Though the top of the mountain is barren but for a few shrubs, it turns out that this isn’t because of being above the tree line. Over the course of centuries, the mountain was repeatedly burned, both to make room for livestock and because wolves were living in its caves. Now, just a handful of berry bushes and grasses crust the smooth, ancient stone of the mountain. Some have called it, “the Most Hiked Mountain in America.”
Finally, I have a picture from Key West, Florida. The sunsets and the enormous thunderheads there make for some lovely pictures, but my favorite detail is at the horizon: the poles supporting power lines, alone in the water, bringing electricity from key to key.
I’ve shown you the inside of the Energy Biosciences Building before, but I’m particularly happy with the way this shot captures the grandeur of all of this wood, steel, concrete, and glass. The sun casts the best shadows and refractory patterns through it all. (Well, maybe not THROUGH the concrete–but on it, anyway.)
The University of British Columbia’s campus has the odd quality that many modern campuses do. The vast majority of the buildings are post-war additions, and carry the strong characteristics and visions of each of their respective architects. This particular building caught my eye for the way it integrates a Japanese-style bridge, pool, and island into the courtyard of what could otherwise be a glossy but unremarkable structure.
The combination makes me think of the entrance to some sort of futuristic dojo in a cyberpunk novel. No wonder William Gibson calls Vancouver home.
With the sun setting behind me into the Pacific, the light on the Golden Gate Bridge, the city, and the Bay Bridge beyond it (thus the sandwich effect) begins to shift from golden to deep blue. The lights came on just as the rain started to spit, and the whole scene made me wish I’d brought a thermos of hot chocolate with me.
Today’s post is a particularly old photograph of mine–so old, in fact, that you’ll have to pardon the fact that it was taken before I owned a DSLR. I happened upon it the other night, and it was so lovely that I just couldn’t resist processing and posting it.
Above Bridal Veil Falls, in the box canyon cliffs surrounding Telluride, CO, is this building. At first, it looks to be a lonely house, but the truth is far more fascinating: it is the second AC hydroelectric power station in the United States. The facility was restored in the 1980’s, and still provides 1/4 of the power to the little town of Telluride in the distance.
Everything is parked, arrayed, and prepared in precisely the right position for maximum efficiency. This might not really be the case, but when I stare through the airport glass, I see a ballet of criss-crossing tools and machines harnessed for travel.
The midwest is a flat region, but the true two-dimensionality doesn’t hit you until you until you see the region from above. The tallest things for miles around will be water towers. Each town’s tower marks it, like a piece on the world’s most beige chessboard. Still, they have a certain beauty in the evening.
Costao do Satinho fills almost an entire end of Florianopolis’s island, and the hotel pictured here represents just a small bit of it. There are villas and beaches sprawling out over acres. Still, this part (at night) was one of my favorites, with its 1960’s style and very jet-set-minded architecture. This is a place that caters to a group from the past.
Today’s photograph comes from the lobby of the newly opened Energy Biosciences Building, where I was lucky enough to get a late-night tour. Here, scientists and students focus on the problem of developing next-generation energy solutions, including biofuels and solar power. Though it will soon be bustling with life, the building is presently occupied by empty offices and cubicle skeletons. The modern surfaces, all wood and glass and brushed steel and matte concrete, really convey the mission.
This is the lovely entrance to the Nitobe Memorial Garden at the University of British Columbia. Brendan previously showed you some views from farther inside, but there’s something about the entrance itself that is particularly lovely.
Part of my attraction must certainly be from all of the anime and manga I consumed as a teenager, but even when considered objectively, the garden is gorgeous. I first thought it a bit contradictory to imagine a serene place to be overwhelming, but that was just the experience when I walked into the Garden.
This photograph comes from within the walls of Green College at the University of British Columbia. I really recommend clicking through to read all about its somewhat bizarre history. The dormitory is a place where academics of all ages come together to exchange ideas and cook extremely garlicky food. The combination of alpine architecture and enormous trees makes it feel like a cross between Hogwarts and Rivendell. I was feeling these mystical vibes in the middle of the night, as the Moon peaked through the trees and I took this picture.
I’ve always enjoyed photographs where I can contrast the stark geometries of man-made objects with the stochastic curves of most natural forms. (You can see the theme again in Part I.) In this case, I love the hexagonal cross-section and rough texture of the concrete in comparison with the smooth, vibrant waves.
During our recent trip to the University of British Columbia, Brendan spotted what looked a bit like a castle rising from behind the otherwise modern architecture of the university. What he saw was the Iona Building, the heart of the Vancouver School of Theology. It struck me as a little bit odd to see such an imposing and explicitly religious building on the campus of a public university, but hey–that’s Canada for you. The building’s provenance does little to diminish its architectural achievement.
Decaseconds 