Rose gardens are more frequently Brendan’s purview on this blog (check out this post, or this one), but my visit to Portland, Oregon this summer gave me the chance to shoot some rose gardens of my own. The dramatic sky, the far-off pavilion, the spouting fountain, the acres of roses, and the mis-matched ramp and stairs at the edges of the picture: Peninsula Park Rose Garden hits all the right fairy tale notes. I was lucky to be able to capture it at just the right heavy summer moment—though I have to wonder how it would look in the fuzzy first moments of sunrise, too.
Tag: photography
Late Night Chinese Food
Spending the past decade in urban environs, easy access to cuisine from outside the European canon was always a given. When I arrived in the North Country, I was ready for the snow—but perhaps not for the near-total absence of food from Asian cuisines. Just up the road from Dave’s II (which I’ve photographed previously) is No. A-1 Oriental Kitchen, which seems to satisfy every preconception of what a Chinese food restaurant in New York might be (according to twentieth-century American cinema.)
Snow Ponies
Buffalo Aftermath
Driving through Buffalo in the snow-entombed aftermath of the recent blizzard meant sliding our car between snow drifts and abandoned vehicles, all brutally carved out of the way by earthmoving equipment. Though I’m used to seeing a cut in an earthen hillside, it’s quite different to see cuts as necessary to open a snowy highway. Given the way this storm will stick in folks’ minds, I like the idea of a fuzed, muted scene that already seems placed in memory.
Rain Trucks
Until Next Time, North Country
Clip the Apex
Puck Control
Watching the Women’s Ice Hockey team cruise to victory over Dartmouth was satisfying from both the standpoint of a fan (Here we go, Saints!) and from the standpoint of a photographer. Though I know that my 70-200 mm f/2.8 lens will forever be the patron saint of action photography, I really enjoy the challenge of shooting with a 35 mm prime lens. Appleton Arena is a gorgeous old rink with acres of wood, and the less extreme lens gives me the chance to capture the action and the ambiance from the standpoint of a fan in the front row.
American Cinema
The American Theatre in Canton, New York has survived many a winter (and an unfortunately interior remodeling) with much of its twentieth-century charm intact. Continuing my investigation of the “slightly sinister” in small-town America (from yesterday and last spring), this is yet another charming vision of Americana. The echo of a passing car’s headlights in the street below only adds to the mystery.
Labatt Blue Velvet
In the past, I’ve documented the slightly sinister feel of Canton at its most David-Lynchian. Here again, the lights of Main Street are friendly and inviting, but with that edge that small towns have. I can’t wait to see it carpeted in snow—the ambience changes again.
Winning Grin
Brenzier Grass
Having read about the Brenzier Method of producing wide-angle photos with intense bokeh, I thought I’d give it a try. I’m not totally happy with this image of the grass shifting in the rain outside my building, but it’s exciting to try new things and aim towards new possibilities. In the mean time, I think this image nicely captures the strange, silhouetted glow of being outside a busy building at night.
Chillin’ on the Job
Little Oregon Horseshoe
A rural childhood lends itself to stretches with zero requirements: impossibly muggy summer afternoons or frigid winter nights trapped inside. I spent many of those stretches drawing maps of fantastical places, and I can’t help but wonder if my current interest in aerial photography stems from the process of projecting real scenery onto my imagined childhood maps. This meandering oxbow near the Columbia River Gorge has that feel of a place perfect for a fort, doesn’t it?
San Francisco Looming
There’s too much unsettling photography out there to limit my Halloween to just a single photograph! The image of a completely dark San Francisco (in the moment between the sun beginning to set and all of the headlights and streetlights turning on), with its specific skyline rising from the mist of the marine layer, just screams “post-apocalyptic cityscape.” Or do I detect a hint of Blade-Runner-esque “California of the Future” in the angles and orange colors? While I’m on the topic of future and past, I have a question:
Do you George Lucas your work?
This photography is one of the first that I ever took with a “real” camera, in the late fall of 2011. The RAW file was sitting quietly on my external storage drive, fallow and ready to live again. In comparing this image with the original approach I took to processing, I see enormous differences and enormous improvements—or at least an evolving artistic sensibility. I’d call this approach “George Lucasing:” going back to old work and updating or improving as my skills improve. And I’m not sure I like that it’s something I should do. Photography captures a moment, and needs a sense of finality. On the other hand, if I am spatially removed from a place (be it San Francisco or South Africa), without the immediate opportunity to return, can this creation be a healthier expression of nostalgia?














