HDR Photography
Tower cranes are, without question, the coolest pieces of modern construction equipment. In order to reach these heights, the cranes actually lift and build themselves! This particular crane is working on building the replacement to Campbell Hall (which we’ve previously photographed being demolished.) On this particular morning, the clouds aligned in just the right way with the arc of the crane and produced this composition.
Another from my series of photographs from UC Berkeley’s student machine shop: the autofeeder of a practically-antique milling machine. I love the gold colors from the machine’s recent work in cutting brass, and the was it smears into the other tones of steel and plastic.
The relative safety of the fire trails above Berkeley you can survey most of the rest of the bay, in this case I’ve got a nice vista of downtown Oakland which makes it seem much more reputable (but maybe less charming) than it is when you actually walk into downtown proper. When you’re down in the thick of it all you often forget how green the bay area actually is, something you are reminded of from the hills.
I’ve shown before how beautiful the Fourth of July can be in the Bay Area; the overlapping sensory inputs of multiple fireworks shows is stunning. This year, the Berkeley Marina’s display was particularly lovely.
One of my favorite views in the Bay Area from from Grizzly Hill. (You might recognize a bit of this picture from an earlier night shoot.) I love the combination of dense city in San Francisco, sylvan suburbs in Berkeley, and proper trees in Strawberry Canyon and LBNL.
Though I posted photographs taken in UC Berkeley’s machine shop before, I keep coming back to its complicated-but-calming tools and machines. The sense of decades-old purpose and function in this lathe sprouts from every scratch and dent.
During my time as a student at Berkeley, I’ve had a chance to watch Blum hall begin as a foundation and grow to this glowing glass-and-wood holocron you see here. It’s a beautiful building, and its modern architecture fits surprisingly well with the older buildings around it. Still, I have to wonder: given how small its footprint is, I have to wonder what the cost-per-square-foot of the space inside was?
Enormous. But oh-so worth it for the slightly sinister luminescence on winter nights. (I particularly like the manner in which the street lamps ring the building like matadors trying to keep its stampeding bulk contained.)
The hills that rise above Berkeley and the east bay are home to some of the most spectacular vistas — when the weather is nice. On this particular day we were just lucky enough to get a patch of blue sky peaking through the bleak grey clouds, which was enough to completely light up the east bay while leaving the gloom looming over the city.
UCB’s Tolman Hall has a surprising number of urban legends surrounding its uniquely 1960’s appearance. The building is overcrowded and soon to be renovated, but I have to admit that it has a certain charm when the evening light bounces through concrete surfaces of its breezeway. The blues and greens of the shadowed campus and the golden sunset colors are appealing, to be sure, but it’s really the textures that I find so fascinating. The combination of precast and cast-in-place concrete means that there are at least four different textures here, each one reflecting and scattering light in its own, unique way.
On a recent stroll through the hills east of Berkeley I came upon this house I had seen many times before but never really seen, you know? At first glance it looks like a perfectly reasonable home there’s something about the degree to which the landscaping in the foreground engulfs the home and the juxtaposition of this with the palm tree in the background that I really find fascinating. It looks like the kind of house that would be the setting for some sort of fantasy novel where a normal kid ends up going on some sort of magical adventure.
And now a quick holiday bonus. I wanted to get this one out while it was fresh in my mind: the glorious experience of watching half a dozen Fourth of July fireworks shows simultaneously. It’s moments like this, gazing over the bay and its gorgeous lights, that I really appreciate living here.
While not the most attractive rose garden in the world, there is something attractive about Berkeley Rose Garden’s terraces, which office a nice backdrop for the attached tennis courts and are good for a nice relaxing afternoon on a sunny day if you want to get out of downtown, but not necessarily out of Berkeley. Being situated up in the hills it is surprisingly quiet and I was able to get surprisingly unobstructed views of the rows of plants.
I was amazed when I first saw the public fishing pier down at the Berkeley marina as it seems to go on forever. It really is astounding how far out into the bay it extends, even as you walk down there. It’s also always packed with people of all skill levels attempting to get something to bite.
Today’s image is the result of a little experiment I did, in which I limited myself to shooting only with a simple prime lens. This is perhaps my favorite image that stemmed from the experience: Berkeley’s historic Lewis Hall on a rainy afternoon. The reflections from the wet concrete buildings, the grid of the plaza’s brick pattern, and the intricate array of the hall’s windows combine to produce such a strong sense of place. In contrast with these hard, angular, man-made structures are the curves of the redwood trees. Would the picture have been better, had I taken it with a wide-angle zoom lens? I’m really not sure.
Days like these remind me of home, and that anywhere there’s water and a breeze you’ll attract a virtual navy of small sail craft on any remotely nice day.
Decaseconds 