HDR Photography
I’ve continued experimenting with Aurora HDR software, and I’ve confirmed my earlier opinion that it is an excellent tool for surreal, enticing night shots and cases where the noise would be too high for any other HDR technique. For realistic HDR with natural lighting, however, Photomatix remains the king.
Real winter arrived with a horrible stillness. When the temperature is -25ºF, nothing moves and nothing melts and every bit of solid water stays just where you leave it. Even the tiny twigs and branches were stuck in its embrace.
I wanted to look back briefly on the structures of St. Lawrence University’s campus under lockdown from heavy snow. The oldest buildings, like Herring-Cole Hall, are naturals.
This little shed is in odd scale with the buildings around it, but its little puddle of light fits perfectly with the evening.
I’ve always grown to love the mid-twentieth-century buildings like the ODY Library. The lights, snow, and scaffolding among the trees put me in mind of Soviet science fiction.
Here is another example from around the same time period, Bewkes Science Hall. In my mind, authors of speculative fiction must be hiding behind the drawn blinds and imagining snowy, cyberpunk futures of the late 1990s.
Stark winter nights, the kind with a handful of clouds and a lot of bright stars, seem to be when I spend the most time shoveling my driveway. Might as well do a long exposure or two while I work, right? I particularly like the tree in the center of the image that has been completely lit by the adjacent streetlight: it seems otherworldly and special when compared to the other silhouetted trees.
It was a little cold outside, but the holiday lighted fountain show at Longwood Gardens was worth standing around in it.
Snow was falling last night. The small houses with highly peaked roofs and additions out back are a characteristic of this part of town, where the mill workers once lived. The wood sheds are another notable characteristic of an area where many people use only wood stoves to heat their homes in the winter.
I can’t wait until next Christmas!
This is more than a vibrant, glowing, living moment of late-night city life from the Pearl District of Portland, Oregon; this picture is the first I’ve ever processed with a new piece of software, Aurora HDR. It was processed only with Aurora, with no other fiddling in other programs. (As you may know, I’m typically a die-hard Photomatix+Photoshop workflow guy.) I’m not sure what place Aurora will have in my workflow long-term, but I have to at least say this: its noise reduction algorithms are by far the best I’ve ever seen. (Noise is the main enemy of good HDR shots.) I’ll bring you a longer report when I’ve had more seat time with it.
Rainy nights make for the best hotel stays; when the city is a strange mix of old brick and modern blah* (hello, Columbus!), a cloudy sky lit by unnatural light matches the alienating mood.
*Where “blah” = solid but uninspired office buildings.
This image of the flank of the Fairmont Olympic Hotel in Seattle, Washington is imposing for a variety of reasons, but none more than the number of bricks, each of which must have been carefully laid into place, necessary to construct the façade.
This weekend’s inescapable event was the once-in-a-decade super blood moon, a simultaneous lunar eclipse and supermoon. I snuck away from working to get a shot of the moonrise over the campus and the Adirondacks.
Later in the evening, the lunar eclipse was in full swing and I shot it as it passed the newly restored steeple of the campus chapel.
The arcing forms of burning steel wool, mirrored and displayed in a “tiny planet” polar projects, put me in might of science-fiction technology or some demonic portal.
Burning steel wool makes for some really cool effects. With St. Lawrence University Photo Club, we experimented with illusions of depth and movement over the course of the exposure.
The raised interstate looks like a crown, with bridges for gems, just above the emerging skyline of Portland’s Pearl District.
On this through-arch bridge going into Canton from the Adirondacks, I used the Brenizer Method to make a super-wide, narrow-depth-of-field image that brings to mind some slightly sinister movie scene.
Camp Canaras has a central lodge, a merry place of varnished wood and Scotch served neat. Late at night, long after the campers are tucked in, the place takes on a ghostly, abandoned vibe.
Inside, the minor remnants of the party still remain, along with the major remnants of large animals.
Decaseconds 