HDR Photography
Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory sits in the Berkeley Hills, so close to multiple centers of scientific and technological innovation; the intellectual climate on its campus is astonishing. One of the newer facilities on campus is the science-fiction-come-to-life Molecular Foundry. The most dramatic part of the building hangs in space above the bay. I can’t resist the image of a spacecraft coming in for a landing.
Large-scale sculptures on college campuses set the tone of these places, focusing the on spaces for the mind to experiment and grow. I’ve always found it a bit ironic that the mind will grow to find these odd structures everyday and ordinary.
Admissions buildings are always charming, but the blue hour on a crisp fall afternoon creates optimal conditions for charm. Not a single leaf is out of place.
Coming to St. Lawrence, I was not prepared for the amount of forest space on the school’s 1000-acre campus. Flying above the Grasse River, campus looks wild and vaguely Nordic. I’ve never run into a frost giant on the way to work, but now I’m sort of wondering whether I need to prepare for that, too.
The roars and gasps of the crowd could be heard all over town: Friday night football in the North Country of New York. St. Lawrence’s Saints dominated Morrisville to the tune of 28–0. From quadcopter, the action on the field is just a bit out of range. One of the recurring themes of my work is the civilization gradient between densely human areas and wilderness; I view this picture as another interpretation of that theme. There’s perhaps no urban center in Canton, but there are quaint homes and university buildings giving way to farmland and, eventually, the foothills of the Adirondacks in the distance where the Earth begins to curve.
Captured in one image: St. Lawrence’s oldest building, Richardson Hall, and its newest, Kirk Douglas Hall.
Since moving from places like Hartford and Oakland to Small Town America, I will admit that I’ve become a bit spoiled when it comes to traffic. Anything less than an open road now feels like a traffic jam. The reality turns out to be just a little different.
If this week on Decaseconds has had a theme, it has been structures suspended over water at sunset. It has also been a week of long-exposure shots that live up to the site’s title. Hoards of gulls riding on the waves are reduced to weird ghost-blurs in the foreground of the San Francisco Bay Bridge, Yerba Buena, and the Port of Oakland.
Summer means hanging out on the dock and enjoying the view.
Adirondack-meets-elven style in this bridge over the Grasse River. The lights seem inviting; that’s probably appropriate, given that this is the bridge connecting SUNY Canton’s campus with the town proper. (I’ve explored the connection from another angle in the past.)
Though the architectural style isn’t as apparent from this shot, I love the sense of multiple pathways vanishing to infinity: down the river or across the bridge. So many places to go and things to explore. (And some proper long exposure to merit this website’s name.)
Deep in winter and summer, New England becomes monochromatic (white and green, respectively). Late fall is different; “stick season” has a broad, desaturated array of hues that stretch across the landscape.
This Adirondack-y bridge connects SUNY Canton’s campus to town across a branch of the Grasse River. The photograph is a metaphor for the college experience: being a little apart from the regular world, in a place that’s just a bit magical. On one side of the bridge are normal houses, normal roads, normal life; across the bridge is a gently lit path through the woods. Very Rivendell-esque?
The North Country, like many rural places in America, has rugged expanses of nature abutting everyday locations. Example: the Buccaneer Lounge has this marvelous array of rapids just past its charming array of picnic tables.
Commencement was yesterday, and I’m proud to see my students move beyond college—but the quiet, empty campus starts to resemble a Zen garden more than a school.
In most of North American, a lawn of short grass has no business being near enormous, deciduous trees; this particular image matches an afternoon of improbably sunlight with that preposterous botanical mix.
Decaseconds 