Three's Company

"Two's company; three's a crowd." How many times have we heard that old adage?

As the oldest of three children, I can't agree more that three or any odd number is challenging when it comes to relationships between people. "The love triangle" and "the fifth wheel" are two prime examples.

However, when it comes to visual relationships in photography--or any of the arts for that matter--three seems to be just the right number. Unlike our psyches which strive for balance and symmetry, the eye seems to prefer when things are thrown askew.

So during a recent workshop on still life at the Westhampton Library when we took a walk down the street to a little farmstand, I pointed out these three onions thrown haphazardly into a basket to my teenage students.

Looking downwards, one lifted her camera and peered through her tiny viewfinder. The corners of her mouth turned up, then she nodded and pressed the shutter. What more could a teacher ask for? I haven't seen her version yet, but this is mine.

Double Duty

This month I'm conducting three workshops per week at various venues in the area. While I start each session with landscapes and progress to still life, students seems most interested in learning how to take better pictures of their loved ones.

My philosophy, however, is that one needs to learn about composition and light before trying to capture things that move. So as I began to plan the upcoming lesson on portraiture, it was apropos that my most active subject, my three-year-old grandson, arrived at my doorstep Saturday to spend the morning with me while my daughter went to work.

"Where's Copper?" he asked as my six-month old puppy bounded toward him. For the next few hours, they played like siblings indoors and out while I ran after them making sure that the dog wasn't too rough with the boy and visa versa and that Copper didn't eat Brody's toys.

When they finally relaxed, Copper hopped onto the window seat in my front room, his favorite spot, and Brody followed. Quickly I grabbed my Canon and set it on the portrait setting. No time to fiddle with the camera; just enough time to capture the moment.

Junked

Alas, I've finally gotten back to shooting film! Although I'm thoroughly enjoying the instant gratification of my Canon Rebel digital SLR, there's still nothing like film.

Taken with my Hasselblad which I was using almost exclusively before buying the Canon last summer, this is the first image I've selected for a new series I'm developing with two other women photographers, Elizabeth Holmes and Mia Wisnoski---who also continue to shoot film and share a love for the nostalgic aspects of the area. Decaying buildings, vintage trucks, rusted wheels; we all seem to be drawn to what's old or not too new.

Every few weeks since the summer started, we've been driving around, mostly on the North Fork, with our cameras with the idea of presenting the East End from three different viewpoints. To get back to film, I've decided to used this medium-format camera; notice the square format and the color saturation; a warmer yet more formal format to my eye.

Next June, we'll be mounting a show at the new Westhampton Library showcasing the results. While I love to wander on my own, it's nice to have a break from the solitude and enjoy the company of like-minded souls.

Spotting

People watching, it's one of my favorite pastimes and one of the reasons I started taking photographs in the first place. So when I went down to the Quogue dock with my friend, Julie, on Friday evening where I heard a Reggae band was playing to kick off the holiday weekend, I made sure to bring my camera.

Working our way through the crowd with the sun glaring in our eyes, Julie pointed toward the dock on the periphery where we headed and took a seat. Perfect, I thought, as the sun sank behind my right shoulder casting a crystal light. Men wore shorts, women donned hats, boys and girls pushed scooters and rode bikes; it was Norman Rockwell, circa 2010.

I waited and watched...then out of my left eye, I spotted them, the perfect family, some with two legs, some with four. Quickly I changed lenses to my long zoom and set my f-stop to F11 to ensure there would be enough depth of field for the foursome yet throwing the two posts, that framed the image so nicely, a little out of focus.

"Do you think they have kids?" I said.

"Nah," Julie replied, "looks like they've invested in dogs."

Swirl

Sunday was my daughter's 20th birthday. As part of the celebration, Jackie requested that we have brunch at Love Lane Kitchen on the North Fork, about half an hour from our home on the South Fork. When we sat down, I ordered iced coffee right away as the day was heating up. Ironically, I had been at the same eatery the day before when out shooting in the area with two fellow photographers, and was looking forward to the iced coffee again, half caf/half decaf.

When the server set it down before us, Jackie picked up the tiny vessel of milk and started pouring. "That looks cool," she said as a ribbon of white swirled through the caramel, "Mom, take a picture!"

Not a problem. I had been snapping away as I stared at her and her boyfriend, who was visiting for the weekend---not quite comprehending how 20 years had passed and what an amazing person my Jackie had become.

To avoid the flash I set the ISO at 800, the F-stop at 5.6 and had no choice but to shoot at 1/8 second, very slow to hand-hold. But I held steady pressing the camera body to my forehead. In this case, the show shutter speed and shallow depth of field worked to advantage, emphasizing the motion inherent in this still life.

When Jackie saw the image, she said "my nails look good; good thing I just had a manicure."

Out of the Blue

If you want to capture that special image that pops up out of the blue, the most important thing to remember is to carry your camera with you all the time. If I hadn't stashed my camera bag in the back of my car, I would have missed the chance to capture this magnificent sight.

As dusk descended one evening, I was driving home down Lewis Road where acres upon acres of farmland have been preserved by the town of Southampton. There hanging over the field, a tremendous cloud was set on fire by the sun that had just dipped below the horizon.

As I neared, the cloud loomed larger and more brilliant. Pulling over to the side of the road, I reached behind me pleased to discover that I had indeed left my camera in the car. Knowing that the color would soon fade, I quickly changed lenses to my long one, 55-250mm, pointed it out the window and zoomed all the way in. I also underexposed by about one stop to intensify the cloud color thus throwing the treeline into silhouette.

With more time to gaze at this image now, I'm amazed at what we can see when we keep looking. I see the profile of a man with a full head of curly hair--looks a little like Harpo Marx!

Peconic River Day

Between the forks on the East End of Long Island where I have lived year-round for over twenty years, there's the town of Riverhead where the locals travel from all directions to do their daily business. Once a thriving downtown center, the village has struggled for decades to compete with the big chains that now crowd Route 58 nearby.
Behind Main Street, however, there's a lazy river that delights each time I pass through on my way to Home Depot, Target, or some such place.
So when I was invited to participate tomorrow in Peconic River Day at a gallery called Art Sites that yes, is on the way to Tanger Outlet Mall, I was thrilled.
A few weeks ago, I began by photographing people enjoying the boardwalk. Relaxing on benches, reading the paper or strolling by, I approached them slowly asking if they'd like to participate in this celebration of the river.
To my surprise, no one refused. Then I crossed the parking lot to discover some children frolicking intheir front yard facing the river. Under the care of their grandpas, I was a hesitant to ask if I could photograph the children.
Yet again, they were most willing to oblige. Since then, I visited the places I frequent when in town, a riverside bistro, the arts council, the bank, and the library--where my close friend, Elva, works---to capture the faces of those who live, work and play along the Peconic River.
Here's the result. To view, just click the forward arrow at your own pace.

Saving the Seagull

Two weeks ago, I took a trip with my puppy to Cupsogue Beach at the end of Westhampton Dunes--a seaside park preserved by the county wedged between the ocean and the bay--to check out the venue for my next photography class. Moseying along taking in the sights, Copper darted suddenly toward the water, howling like the hound he is.

Flapping one wing, a large bird lumbered into the water; it happened so fast that it took me a minute or so to realize it was a wounded seagull. Quickly, I tied the dog to a post and rushed back to the bird who was struggling in the water. Reaching for my camera, I took one photograph before he emerged from the foam dragging a broken wing.

What do I do? I thought panicking.

Fumbling for my cellphone, I made a few calls and found the number for the Wildlife Refuge Center of the Hamptons. While waiting for the volunteer to arrive from Hampton Bays, I shot 66 frames as my dog continued to howl.

At one point a wave knocked the gull onto his back. I approached slowly and was surprised when he allowed me to gingerly flip him back onto his feet. Making eye contact, he reminded me of my puppy when I rescued him a few weeks before.

After that, he stood nearby posing in thanks as we continued to wait. Here are 13 images presented as a slide show; just one couldn't possibly do him justice.

To view, just click the forward arrow at your own pace.

Iris

As May comes to a close, it seems fitting to end with the iris, the most spectacular of flowers. Around noon one day last week, I couldn't take my eyes off the phosphorescent petals just outside my front window that had just bloomed.
Envisioning all the pictures of irises I had already seen, I was reluctant to grab my camera. "But these purple and yellow ones are so special," I thought, "and they're mine." Within minutes I was leaning over the tall specimen in the middle of my front garden experimenting with the composition.
As I zoomed in, I decided to focus on the purple patterns at F5.6, letting the yellow petals fall into a blur. However, the lightness of that blur overpowered the darker elements I was trying to highlight. So I set my digital camera on manual and underexposed by a little more than one stop. Presto...without Photoshop, I had toned done the yellow and created a more dramatic image.
It's no wonder that of all the flowers that blossom on Earth, they named this one after the color of the eye.

Timeless

Photographing children is an art unto itself. Since they are in constant motion and so difficult to predict, the secret is to take lots and lots of pictures.
Last week an artist friend invited me to participate in a project celebrating life on the Peconic River at a festival at Art Sites, a gallery in Riverhead set for June 19th. The premise is to photograph people living, working and playing along the river. So on Saturday we set out to find out if indeed anyone was enjoying the balmy weather along the boardwalk constructed there a few years ago.
After shooting a few strollers, we noticed a family with some young children playing in a yard across the way. "You ask them," my friend said afraid that they might refuse.
To her surprise, they were more than happy to participate. Thirty minutes later, we walked away satisfied with the more than 50 images we had taken. Then, one of the little girls jumped on her rocking horse and asked me to take some more, just of her.
Rocking back and forth, she looked directly in the lens. The light danced in her eyes and on the grass behind her. Now comfortable with me and my camera, she rewarded me with this timeless image. It's my experience that the best usually does come last.