Still Sandy

On Sunday, we were finally allowed access to the Roger's Beach in Westhampton after the hurricane. Of course, I grabbed my camera and headed down there. What I found, was much different that I expected. The beach was still sandy, wider than before, not narrower. But there were these rivers of water running through it. I decided that the best way to depict that impression was to shoot right up the river. In terms of composition, the angle of view can make all the difference. To see another viewpoint, go to my other blog, Recovery Thru My Lens.

Autumn Light

There is something about porches in the late afternoon light that I find so peaceful. Over the weekend I visited an old friend in Westchester where I hadn't been in many years. When I entered her beautiful home around 5pm, I headed straight to the back porch where autumn light was skimming its surface. And there with little effort on my part, I captured this composition. For a more poetic take on this image, visit Recovery Thru My Lens.

Divide

Here's yet another of my classic beachscapes that I'm writing about for the first time. Like the others, it was taken just after sunset---but at Cupsogue Beach County Park at the end of Weshampton Dunes. Notice how the red fence stands out against the green grass and blue sky. Perfect complements further enriched by the last few moments of twilight. 

It's rare to find a moment of universal harmony like this---the reason why it seems to be a perennial favorite. I've saved it for the last month of summer so I can savor it through the end of the season....always a bit melancholy no matter how long I've lived here on the East End.

Go to my other blog, Recovery Thru The Lens, to read a more personal rendition of this image.

Cycles

The first step in taking good photographs is becoming your own best scout.
Here's what I call my signature image; the one I have printed on my business card. Taken seven years ago, I have never written about it although I've told the story of how I scouted it out many times.
That week in June, my younger daughter was suffering from stomach pain. After a day or so, we took her to the hospital and they finally diagnosed her with appendicitis. With surgery scheduled for the next morning, we went out for dinner passing this field just after the sun had dipped below the horizon when I witnessed this wonderful sight. Alas...I didn't have a camera with me.
The following evening after a successful operation, I rushed home collected my medium format film camera and returned there at the same time of evening. Standing in the mud in my white sandals, I captured this image now called Water Cycle.
For a poetic rendition of this image, visit Recovery Thru My Lens!

Spontaneity

For me, spontaneity is the key to a good portrait. I've never been particularly good at posing people. And even when I try, they're uncomfortable and too conscious of the camera to allow their true selves to emerge.

Here's a prime example. Last Saturday I crammed my grandson's new bike, his birthday present, into my back seat of my Honda Insight where it barely fit. Then, I proceeded to his party held around the block at our village park. I had hoped that he would be playing in the field or otherwise occupied when I arrived so he wouldn't see the handle bar jutting out of the window.

However, they pulled up right beside my car when we arrived at the same time. He jumped out and peered through the window. Luckily, my camera was resting on the passenger seat and I had the presence of mind to pick it up.
For a more poetic rendition, visit Recovery Thru My Lens!

Imperfect

On a drizzly spring day a few weeks ago, I was fortunate to be invited for lunch at my friend Ellen's home. It's always a treat to receive that particular invitation because Ellen is a private chef. Spontaneously, she can throw together a meal from whatever she finds in her fridge and garden that's more scrumptous than any restaurant around.

Beyond the wonderful fish chowder and deer tongue lettuce sprinkled with chive flowers, I was delighted by what lay on the table. Longing to photograph the two pears bathed in natural light, I chided myself for not bringing my camera. But there, beside my napkin lay my iPhone. Dare I stoop to that level, become just another iPhone shooter.
You have no choice, I told myself pressing the silly "app." Although one pear is marred, the rooster's head is cut off and the file is half the size of my Canon's digital capability, I couldn't get this image out of my head. To read a more lyrical rendition of this post, visit Recovery Thru My Lens.

Drift

There's something magical about sandbars. Usually they appear here at the end of the summer, but this one materialized early in June five years ago. This is one of my favorite beach images, yet this is the first time I am writing about it.
While relaxing on a Quogue beach one afternoon, I noticed how the shoreline appeared severed to the left. The next day I returned with my medium-format film camera late in the afternoon when the light was low. Stationed in this spot, composition ready, I pre-visualized the image and waited for someone to come walking into the scene. After several passed, this couple dressed in white mosied into the frame skirting the inner waterway on either side.
For a long time I had called this photograph simply Sandbar. A few days ago, however, I re-titled it Drift after writing a short verse with it in mind for my other blog, Recovery Thru My Lens. Take a look and find out why...

Present

The most important ingredient for taking good photographs is being present. It doesn't matter what kind of equipment you have if you're not aware, living in the moment.

This image of my daughter taken last weekend just before her sister's college graduation ceremony is a perfect example. We had arrived over one hour early at the campus to stake out our seats for six people. At the time, the closest ones to the stage were smack in the middle, directly in the sun. As we waited, amid the crowd, sweat beading on our foreheads, I fretted about how I would get a shot of the graduate through all the heads as she walked down the middle aisle.

Then I looked up and saw my older daughter's smile set aside Healy Hall, the oldest building at Georgetown. Lifting my camera, I took three shots. This one, the last, of her wistfully glancing sideways as if she knew exactly how I was framing her, is my favorite. If I had continued to fret, hadn't been present, I wouldn't have this precious momento.
For a more poetic take on this image, go to Recovery Thru My Lens.

Natural

There's nothing like natural light.

On Saturday at my grandson's birthday party, my job was to take care of his new baby brother. Amidst all the ruckus--rock music blaring from gigantic speakers and 20 four year-olds dancing around us--I laid him down on a leather chair near a window to let him stretch out and noticed the beautiful light falling on his face.

Since I was trying to take some photos too (my usual job), I grabbed my camera and attempted to capture him without a flash. Fortunately, Blake is a very mellow fellow so far and stayed still for the 1/10 second exposure required.

It was also lucky that these two balls happened to be right there on the chair coordinating with his outfit and mimicking his cherubic face.

Gazers

If you gaze out your window tonight, you'll see the Super Harvest Moon. It's a rare event when the autumnal equinox coincides with a full moon. I took this picture last evening while outdoors at dusk after photographing Monarch butterflies at Cupsoque Beach in Westhampton Dunes---to be posted soon.

Satisfied with the expedition, a friend and I were headed for the parking lot about to leave when I looked up and saw the moon hanging over the dunes. It was so vibrant I could actually see the man in the moon.

Immediately I thought of Serge Gal, director of Image Ouverte, a photography school in the South of France, someone who shared his passion for photography with me and many others. Serge passed away this past August. He spent his life helping others learn how to see. Today he would have been sixty years old.

Seurat

Continuing my study of couples--a series that seems to be newly developing this summer--I was inspired to post this image taken a few weeks ago. When a student and I took a walk down to the town boat launch around the corner from my home, we immediately spotted the red umbrella and moved closer. I was excited to discover such a vibrant focal point amidst the panorama. Although it's quite dramatic and constantly changing depending on time of day and year, the wide open space that I pass by each day is difficult to photograph.

Lifting our cameras, I instructed her to play with the composition by deciding where to place the object (and therefore, the couple) in the frame. As she did so, I followed suite.

Afterwards, when reviewing the images, I was enchanted to find this one reminiscent of George Seurat's famous painting, A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte. I'm always amazed at how the French Impressionists influence my work and contemporary art in general .

To enhance its painterly effect, I can't wait to see how the photograph looks when I print it on watercolor paper.