01-OCT-2018
On the move by land and air, near Pocatello, Idaho, 2018
It's very difficult to carefully compose a photograph from the passenger's seat of an automobile moving at 80 miles per hour. In this case, however, I had an idea in mind well before the moment of exposure. A rising sun had been creeping towards the horizon,signalling the coming of dawn. Meanwhile, the sky overhead featured a huge jet contrail. I noticed that the white lines on the highway echoed the diagonal thrust of that contrail. I hoped to connect thie contrail, and the air traffic it symbolized, to the road traffic flowing ahead of us. I scanned the horizon, looking for an oncoming object that would provide a focal point to accomplish this. I spotted a large sign while it was far away. It kept getting larger as we approached. I waited until that sign and the contrail merged, and released the shutter. The road traffic flowing in front of us is abstracted --we see only a silhouette of a car. We don't see a plane in the sky, either, only a symbol of air traffic. My composition expresses the point of the image itself: the flow of moving traffic on ground and in the air.
06-JUL-2015
At the block, Phoenix, Arizona, 2015
I photographed these Rosy-Faced Lovebirds feeding at a block hanging in front of neighboring house. They are descended from Lovebirds originally imported from Africa by Phoenix pet dealers. There are now over 1,000 feral lovebirds in Phoenix. In this case, I allowed the feeding birds to compose the image for me. The pair of birds sitting at the time of the block were already in place, and so were the three birds clinging to its sides. I needed another bird in flight to enter the dark space at the bottom of the picture to bring action and bold new color into the image. I only had to wait for the right moment, and it happened. Its spreading wings contrast to the folded wings of the other birds, and the bold blue tail added a fourth vivid color to the composition.
13-FEB-2015
Rocking horse, Cave Creek, Arizona, 2015
I found this rocking horse just outside of a craft shop. I was drawn to it by the both the lighting and the background. I composed the image by gradually shifting my vantage point so that the horse’s illuminated ear points directly at a softly focused metallic star in the background. The diagonal thrust of the ear echoes the diagonal thrust of the star points, and links the energetic, bowed horses head to the dynamic force of the star.
08-FEB-2013
The Venetian Pool, Coral Gables, Florida, 2013
This historic pool, built in 1923 within a coral rock quarry, holds 820,000 gallons of spring water fed from an underground aquifer. During the spring and summer seasons, the pool is filled and drained daily. The Mediterranean design and coloration of the pool is exquisite, and my composition attempts to express the era and style in which it was built. I anchored the image upon the curving staircase that descends from one of its huge lookout towers. The repeating play of light and shadows upon the curving steps echo the play of light and shadow on the curving red railing just above them. Four entry steps – some above the water and others underwater -- emerge from the diagonal thrust of the pool’s edge that carries the eye from the stair railing all the way to the top of the frame. Meanwhile, the shimmering reflection of the pool’s second lookout tower rides the surface of the pool’s deep blue water.
10-JAN-2013
Plaza Theatre, Palm Springs, California, 2013
This theatre opened here 76 years ago, and is still going strong. Once home to radio broadcasts featuring the likes of Jack Benny, Bob Hope, and Bing Crosby, it now features a vaudeville show known as the “Fabulous Palm Springs Follies,” starring performers ranging in age from 54 to 83. Here’s how I composed this image: I moved in on a poster placed outside the theatre, tilting my camera slightly to make the visible part of the poster’s frame into a dynamic diagonal running through the center of the image. This emphatic image structure invites a comparison between the enthusiastic image of a performer on the right, and the curving lights over the theatre’s doors, as well as the massed bunting and flags above them on the left. Those flags hang from diagonal poles, while the arm and costume of the performer echo those diagonals. Finally, the placement of the flags, arm, and costume pull the eye of the viewer diagonally through the image from corner to corner.
09-MAY-2011
Hotel, Scottsdale, Arizona, 2011
I used my spot metering mode on the reflected late afternoon sun as it illuminated the rough texture of the wall at left. That reflection on the texture becomes the focal point of this image. I allowed all else to fall into silhouette here. The walls on either side are drawn together by the repeating diagonals -- the shadow at lower left and the slope of the building at upper right. I introduced the silhouetted leaves at top to draw the eye into the picture from the top, while the deep blue sky adds a striking backdrop to this geometric composition.
01-JAN-2011
Groovy, St. Bart’s, French West Indies, 2010
I used my frame to abstract this small boat, moored among the huge yachts that lined St. Bart’s harbor, and incongruously named “Groovy.” I use the three ropes to create diagonal leading lines to draw the eye through the frame. I also truncate the pier that leads towards the boat and stops abruptly just short of its stern, creating an anchor for the image. The image’s focal point revolves around the space between the pier and boat, a gap that energizes the frame with tension.
12-NOV-2009
Monument Valley, Arizona, 2009
I structured this image as a diagonal composition, leading the eye into it by placing the base of the road at the lower left hand corner and letting it lead the eye into the dominant butte in the upper right hand corner. A car rolls through the midpoint of the image, defining the function of the road that splits a rich red desert landscape in half. A large bird in flight, and the twin spires of one of Monument Valley’s signature red rock monoliths add additional identity. If you move back from this image and view it from several feet away, these details become subservient to the powerful thrust of the composition itself. (I photographed this same road and landmarks, but in an entirely different way, a few day’s later. ( See
http://www.pbase.com/pnd1/image/119661839 )
19-OCT-2009
Autumn in the park, Kiev, Ukraine, 2009
I stood on a high hill overlooking the leaf strewn walk below and waited as strollers entered and left the frame. In my mind as I composed this image was the use of negative space. I wanted to anchor the image with a person at the bottom, and then space others evenly as the image fades into the background. The very last person is half hidden below a branch of leaves but his presence is critical. He completes a series of four evenly matched slots of negative space that lead the eye through the image and echo the gradual pace of a walk in the park.
24-JUN-2009
Cyclist, Port Angeles, Washington, 2009
The “S-Curve” is often seen in photographic compositions, a device that best serves the eye by leading it into or through an image. I found this s-curve first, and was determined to build an image around it. The curving parking cutout is painted in primary colors, giving it even more of an “eye-pulling” effect. I positioned myself over the yellow portion and waited for someone to become my subject by crossing at the intersection. My first attempts failed – too many cars cluttered the intersection while people were crossing with the light. After about five minutes of futility, I saw this cyclist heading towards the intersection. Even better, there was a simultaneous break in the traffic flow, giving me an uncluttered shot at him. I put my camera on burst shooting, and followed his progress with shot after shot as he approached. I had hoped to line him up with the red curbing as he passed me, but he decided to give me an even better shot by turning right into it and bringing the yellow and red s-curve to life. This image captured his lean perfectly as he flows through the upper left hand portion of my frame.
20-JUN-2009
Amtrak Station, Portland, Oregon, 2009
The pedestrian bridge over the rails offered me an ideal vantage point from which to compose this image. The first thing I noticed was the dominant reddish pattern of rooftops that bisected the railyard. I moved to a point on the bridge that allowed me to divide my frame with the two vertical roofs, and then add a top to the “T” by blending the horizontal roof into the top of my frame. Tracks on both sides of the image echo the vertical flow of the center roofs, while a waiting train adds important context in the upper right corner. All I needed was a figure moving towards the train, and after a few minutes of waiting, one of the last passengers to board emerged from the station and crossed the track at left center. He is heading towards the dark opening between the two vertical roofs. I caught him in mid-step, and he becomes the focal point of my image.
02-JUN-2009
Rotunda, Texas State Capitol, Austin, Texas, 2009
A single star sends a series of decorative rays and circles spinning towards us as we look up into the interior of a dome that soars higher than the United States Capitol. These rays and circles lead the eye down to a series of circular galleries that mark each floor of the 120-year-old Texas State Capitol building. By limiting the scene to the vertical frame of a 24mm wideangle lens, I am able to compress the energy of the circular patterns into a narrow channel that leads the eye all the way up to the lone star at the center of the dome -- the focal point of the entire image. Organized by concentric circles and partial circles, the image guides the eye through the scene. Meanwhile, the color temperature changes from the palette from gold in the lower galleries, illuminated by electricity, to the white light playing on the dome’s interior, illuminated by the window light.
15-APR-2009
Not much doing in Kingman, Arizona, 2009
We choose to shoot with early light on the fringes of Kingman, too early for much activity. I wanted this image to speak of silence – a lone car and a single person surrounded by empty streets and sidewalks that stretch as far as we can see. (I am not sure if the light changed to red while the car was already in the intersection or not – but at this time and place, a traffic violation would hardly matter.) I compose the photo by using the wideangle lens to emphasize the massive scale of the sidewalk in the foregound, which gets smaller and smaller as it flows into the background. I interrupt the flow with the silhouetted man sitting on the corner, staring into space. He has been stopped in time, just as the camera has stopped the car, and just as the stop sign above him requests.
09-NOV-2008
Water bearer, Kairouan, Tunisia, 2008
High vantage points often reveal leading lines that can draw the viewer’s eye into and through an image. I was shooting from an upper floor of a building overlooking cisterns built in the year 860 to provide Kairouan with water. Ironically, a 21st century woman in traditional Muslim dress carrying a plastic bottle of water proved more visually expressive than the vast cisterns. She was walking towards me along an overgrown sidewalk, following the curving line of a low curb that separated the sidewalk from the street. I created a frame, flanked by a band of greenery on the left and the curving sidewalk on the right. When the water bearer passed below me and entered that frame, I used the curving sidewalk to track her journey by placing her alongside the powerful leading line flowing from the bottom to the top of the image.
11-MAY-2008
Irrigation, Los Banos, California, 2008
The subject is just water gushing out of a big pipe. Yet by using geometric principles to compose this image, I can make an ordinary subject become part of an extraordinary image. The key is the low angle of the light. It is late in the day, and I move my camera position to take advantage of the light passing through the flow of water that is frozen in place by the shutter. That translucent light turns the water flow into an illuminated arc, positioned over a rectangular trough that is illuminated only along one plane. All else falls into abstracting shadows. The illuminated planes of the trough and the upright board that anchors it in place, create a series of diagonal and vertical thrusts that support the illuminated arc of water and give the image its coherence and meaning. Out of a very small place, a glowing and precious resource brings life to the vast lands that sprawl beyond it.
28-MAR-2008
Village street, Khajuraho, India, 2008
I use negative space here to create tension between the two children. They are each looking in the same direction, but do not seem to notice each other. The silhouette of the young girl at left is echoed by the vertical post, as well as the window and door on the opposite wall. The young man sitting on the step wears a red shirt, which ties him to the large Coca-Cola ad on the wall. The entire image is pulled together by the shadowy dirt street itself –- it is linked to everything in the image.
26-MAR-2008
Amar Singh Gate, Agra Fort, Agra, India, 2008
This composition expresses beauty and mystery. The shadowy ceiling on the inside of the entrance arch dominates the image. The delicate lantern hangs from the ceiling – its silhouette adds an ornate touch the scene. Meanwhile, the textured red sandstone walls add a rainbow of warm colors. The Mogul Emperor Akbar built the fort in 1570. About a century later, Emperor Shah Jahan, who built the Taj Mahal, was imprisoned here by his own son.
20-MAR-2008
Amber Palace, Jaipur, India, 2008
This window and wall speaks of the passage of time. I framed the cracked, stained wall
within a fluted arch and base the scene on the diagonal shadow that moves in from the left. The shadow moves throughout the day – I was fortunate to find it at this angle, echoing the curve in the crack and running counter to the vertical stain on the wall at right.
06-JAN-2008
Coming home, Long Xuyen, Vietnam, 2008
I was fortunate to be standing on the bank of the Mekong River just as this woman was bringing her boat home. I immediately saw the rhythms present in the scene – her red jacket echoed by the boat’s red trim, the curving boards alongside the ship repeated by the reflection in the water, the upright stance of the woman reinforced by the upright line on the bow of the ship. I also noted the massive negative spaces created by the shadowed areas and the sky reflected in the water. To make them all work, I took a gamble and framed the woman well up into the far left hand corner, significantly above the magical “sweet spot” dictated by the so-called “rule of thirds,” which would be down a bit and somewhat to the right of where she is now. But rules are made to be broken. I compose my pictures not for aesthetic effect, but for meaning. I wanted to detach her from everything else, yet still make her responsible for bringing the ship safely in to the dock. It is the incongruity of her precarious perch in the distant corner that energizes the image for me. She seems to be navigating the ship by remote control. The conical hat is just as important – it is the brightest spot in the frame, it stands out against the black shadows in the negative space, and I place it so close to the edge of the image that it generates considerable tension. All of which proves my point: there are no rules for photographic composition and we don’t put together our pictures primarily to please the eye or the senses. Rather, we compose our pictures to best tell the story we are trying to tell.
17-SEP-2007
Foggy day at the Great Wall, Mutianyu, China, 2007
Built in 1368, the Great Wall of China was intended to keep invaders at bay. It didn't. The Mongols breached it and so did the Manchus. This section has been restored -- most of the wall is crumbling away. Each tower was spaced two arrow shots apart to leave no part unprotected. The Great Wall functioned not only as a defensive barrier but was also used as a road for rapid transport of soldiers across the country. The building with the curving roof in the foreground was built during the Ming Dynasty. It served as a fort, signal tower, and storeroom. I organize this foggy image around a tiny spot of white at dead center. White always draws the eye, sometimes for the better, sometimes not. In this case, the white sweater of a tourist standing just outside the signal tower’s central doorway provides a focal point around which to build the image. She offers a touch of today in a place of fogbound history. I lead the eye to her by running ever-receding walls into the frame at both left and right. The walls resume after the tower, wrapping around the tower and leading the eye deeply into the mist, past tiny tourists to the next tower, the next, and the next. The Great Wall gradually recedes into the fog, just as it has receded into history.
08-AUG-2007
Bull Moose, El Tovar Hotel, Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona, 2007
The El Tovar Hotel is the architectural crown jewel of Grand Canyon National Park. A registered National Historic Landmark, the hotel commands the South Rim, offering dizzying views of the canyon from some of its guest rooms. Built in 1905 of Oregon pine logs and native stone, the rustic but elegant hotel is often sold out a year in advance. Several American presidents have stayed at El Tovar, including Theodore Roosevelt, who was instrumental in preserving the canyon as a U.S. National Park. When I think of Teddy Roosevelt, a moose comes to mind – he loved to hunt them, and their heads still adorn his home at Oyster Bay, NY. He also ran for a third term as President of the United States in 1912 as the candidate of the Bull Moose Party. The head of this huge moose is mounted on a varnished wall of the El Tovar’s lobby. It has looked down on visitors as they have passed through this lobby for more than 100 years. I immediately noticed the huge pine logs supporting the ceiling overhead, and composed this image to relate the rhythms of the prongs on the glistening antlers of the moose to the rhythmic flow of log beams just above it. I tilted the camera to create countering diagonal thrusts of both the log ceiling beams and the log wall holding the moose head. I made this image hand-held, at one full second. Thanks largely to my camera’s image stabilization system, the photograph holds its detail well at that slow a shutter speed.
12-JUN-2007
Courtship at Golden Gate, San Francisco, California, 2007
I made this image on Alcatraz Island. This pair of Western Gulls, part of a huge colony, were engaged in a courtship ritual that involved touching bills, striking poses, and making considerable noise. It is never easy composing an image based on the behavior of people, animals or birds. We can only study that behavior, noting its physical structure and directional flow, and hope that it happens again. In this case, I found these gulls courting on a ledge with the Golden Gate Bridge in the background. I simply watched and waited over a ten-minute period, until a boat full of tourists appeared to supply my middle ground, and one bird raised its bill skyward, vertically echoing the thrust of the tower of the Golden Gate Bridge. I was able to make an image that offers three horizontal thrusts – the birds on the ledge, the boat and its wake, and the bridge with its background hills. I played three vertical thrusts against them – the upright bill of the gull, the rising column of plants at left, and the upward thrust of the tower of the Golden Gate Bridge. There is also an implied diagonal thrust as well – the clusters of plants at left point towards the tower and are echoed by the rounded shape of the mountain at right.
12-JUN-2007
Gulls over Alcatraz, San Francisco, California, 2007
Alcatraz Island has one of the largest Western Gull colonies on the Northern California Coast. Two of these gulls fly over the Cell House that once housed federal prisoners. Built by the US Army in 1912, the Cell House was once the largest steel-reinforced concrete building in the world and housed military prisoners until it became a federal prison in 1934. The prison was a place of incarceration. The gulls in flight are symbols of freedom. I composed this image to compare contrasts and similarities. The gulls in flight echo the forward and recessed facades of the prison, as well as the two poles that extend from the building. The building is large and brown, while the birds are small and white. Both the building and the birds thrust forward, and are aligned on the diagonal. How could I “arrange” the birds to fit so neatly into my composition? By anticipating what might happen, waiting, and shooting profusely. A number of gulls were nesting on the roof of the building, and were constantly coming and going. I found a vantage point creating this triangular block of space in the sky, and waited for the gulls to fly into and through it. I put my camera on “multiple” burst shooting, and held the shutter button down whenever multiple gulls flew through that triangular space of blue. The beautiful thing about digital imaging is that every shot is essentially free. I shot several hundred images over ten minutes and found ten that worked fairly well in terms of gull position, wing configuration, etc. This was the most expressive of them.
13-JUN-2007
Beach walker, Point Reyes Seashore, California, 2007
A beach is the fragile border between the domains of man and nature. Man walks that border here with care and respect. I composed this image around three layers – the beach, the man, and the sea. The beach is strewn with debris that has been cast up by the sea. It echoes the sea – each piece of wood moves along the same horizontal plane as each line of waves. The man is the middle layer here – he is incongruously small in scale compared to the sea, and is the focal point of the image. The sea is the background layer – while the waves are surging towards us, they are also lined up as horizontal rows of whitecaps. Together, all three layers speak of the beach: the fragile border between the domains of man and nature.
07-MAY-2007
Arcade, Phoenix, Arizona, 2007
The walls of five entryways on the right lead to a long walkway, creating an arcade that flanks one of Phoenix’s largest office buildings. I waited until a person passed through the far entryway, turned, and began her long walk towards me. I made this image just as she took that first step after her turn. I pre-composed the image based on the dramatic interplay of light and shadow and the repeating rhythms created by the walls of the multiple entryways. It is as if those walls are walking towards us along with the woman. Our imaginations resonate to the repetitive beat of color and line, shadow and light. Suspended in time, the woman’s foot creates tension as it is about to strike the ground. That tension becomes the focal point of the entire image – a place of convergence, and an expression of energy.
19-FEB-2007
Resident peacock, Amargosa Hotel, Death Valley Junction, California, 2007
The Old Amargosa Hotel, formerly part of a borax-processing center just outside Death Valley, is frequently visited by peacocks that have adapted to life in the surrounding desert. I found this one taking a stroll along the hotel's colonnade. The rhythmic repetition of the colonnade pillars is the force that holds this image together and draws the eye into and through the image and out the door at the back. Only the peacock interrupts this flow. It wants to keep us from going past it. It is this tension between the peacock as focal point, and the compelling thrust of its colonnade context, that gives this image both its organization and its meaning. The peacock brazenly turns its back to us, and with a half glance, it dares us to take our eyes off him.
21-FEB-2007
Sunset on the dunes, Mesquite Flats, Stovepipe Wells, Death Valley National Park, California, 2007
Contrary to its popular image, only a small portion of Death Valley is sand. Most of it is rock and salt. The Mesquite Flat dunes, just outside Stovepipe Wells, are both an exception and a popular attraction, particularly at sunrise and sunset. It is difficult to photograph them without including other photographers and their footprints. My solution was to shoot them from a distance, and let my composition tell the story. I make the image whole, instead of fragmented, by anchoring my image with a dune on the bottom and letting the flow of its shadow echo the shadow of the dunes behind it. Three shadowed bands in this image tie it together as a series of layers. These bands, and the dunes they define, get progressively smaller as they flow back into the depths of the image. The tiny clusters of people who walk these dunes at their crests lend scale to the scene. I take out all evidence of sky – and instead fill the background with the base of the Amargosa Mountains. The entire scene now becomes an expressively unified series of sand dunes, rather than a fragmented description.
20-DEC-2006
Into the valley, en route to Tineghir, Morocco, 2006
From the crest of a mountain road, we can envision our journey through the distant valley, to the oasis town of Tineghir. This is a “vista image” (See my entire gallery on vistas at
http://www.pbase.com/pnd1/vistas ) To make a vista work in terms of composition, it is important that the eye move through it with ease. In the case of this vista, I have built it in layers, featuring a twisting mountain road in the foreground that leads the eye into the image, followed by a village in the middle layer as a focal point, and then backed by a layer of ridges that take the eye into the far background.
16-DEC-2006
Koranic school, Fez, Morocco, 2006
The Merdersa Bou Inania, a Koranic school built in 1350, still stands in the middle of Fez’ old city. It was first organized in the 10th century, becoming the world's first center of higher education. I abstract the school building by focusing on small details, making a point of its extreme age by stressing the plants incongruously growing out its roof tiles. I tie that detail together with a geometric composition, bringing the eye into the image from the upper right hand corner by using the roofline, with its tiles and plants, as a strong diagonal. The roof suddenly veers left at the end of the diagonal thrust. At that point, I carry the eye up and out of the image via a strong vertical segment of the building itself. The balance of the image itself is composed of rhythmically repetitive decorative embellishments common to traditional Islamic architecture.
29-DEC-2006
Waiting in the old city, Marrakesh, Morocco, 2006
My subject is a salesman, waiting on a street of shops in a Marrakesh souk. He sits next to a row of closed doors. To tie the man to the doors, I abstract both. I shoot the man in backlight so he becomes a silhouette. I bring the camera as close to the building as I can and use a 300mm telephoto focal length to collapse the line of doors into a rhythmically repeating row of vertical patterns. The eye moves through the rhythmic doors and the building wall until it reaches the man. The overall geometry of the image plays a series of vertical thrusts on the left against a vertically shaded building wall, silhouetted man, and a horizontally divided two color wall in the background at far right. The effect is coherent, compact, and expressive.
22-SEP-2006
Fisher Towers, Moab, Utah, 2006
The late afternoon light makes it seem as if there is a glowing city of stone just beyond the curve of this rich red dirt road. I deliberately walked well back from our parked car in order to use this gradual curve as my foreground and lead-in line. A large chunk of earth, capped by sage, provides an anchor at lower right. This anchor is diagonally opposed to the mountain supporting the Fisher Towers.
28-SEP-2006
Grazing elk, Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming, 2006
I built this image around the layers of jagged projections. A pile of dead tree branches anchor the foreground, a softly veiled elk grazes in the middleground with its massive antlers lowered to match the branches, and a dead tree with similar u-shaped projections stands in the deeply fogged background. The whole image, from front to back, becomes a series of repeating rhythms.
22-SEP-2006
Leading lines, Castle Rock, Moab, Utah, 2006
A line of big rocks marks the approach to this famous landmark just outside of Moab. I used a low vantage point to make them into a leading line that pulls the eye diagonally into the image from the lower left hand corner. The big butte of Castle Rock becomes its target at the upper right. The entire thrust of Castle Rock, which actually resembles a massive castle, rumbles through the middle of the image from right to left, eventually reaching a pair of tiny pinnacles. A brown ridge at left provides a third leading line, echoing the thrust of those rocks at its entrance. All of these leading lines help the eye move into and through the image. It is up to us to make sense out of them.
29-SEP-2006
Two worlds, Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming, 2006
This male mule deer came right up to our van in Yellowstone’s Dunhaven pass to stare us down. I shot this through an open door, building the image around the symbolism of the white line marking the side of the road. The white line creates a diagonal boundary separating man from nature. We stand on our side, a world of asphalt. The deer stands its ground on nature’s green earth, just inches across that line.
20-OCT-2006
Navy Beach, Mono Lake, California, 2006
Mono Lake’s Navy Beach is dominated by fields of sage that take on a backlit glow late in the afternoon. I cover almost the entire frame with this sage, almost filling the image with its glowing flowers. I bring my top edge down to almost touch the distant mountains, creating tension between those peaks and that edge. By pushing down on the mountains, I force the viewer’s eye deep into the image. Unless there is spectacular color or striking clouds in the sky, I rarely, if ever, use much of it in my compositions. An empty sky pulls the eye up and away from the content below it. This is an empty sky, and so we see very little of it.
18-OCT-2006
Burned tree, Buttermilk Hills, California, 2006
The thrusting branches of sage that fill the foreground of this image seem to salute this scorched tree, which stubbornly refuses to fall. The sun dramatically splashes the incongruously white and black tree, just as it does to the massive rock that fills the background of the image. I rarely center my subjects, because centered subjects usually make for static images. This tree, however, demands center stage. In spite of death and disfigurement, its branches, which seem to echo the antlers of a deer or elk, soar over the scene in triumph.
08-JUN-2006
Flamingo Roost, Clatskanie, Oregon, 2006
This quartet of Mexican plastic flamingos incongruously lodges in the rafters of a roadside tourist shop in Clatskanie. I built this image around entirely around repeating rhythms, which create a pattern of implied movement. The horizontal row of flamingos alternately hold their heads high and low, so I’ve offset them to the right hand side of the picture, which seems to get them moving. The rafter beams also flow horizontally, while the vertical ridges in the roof repeat the vertical thrust of three of the flamingos. I was drawn to the scene because of its incongruity and geometry, and used that geometry as the basic structure of the image.
10-JUN-2006
On the dunes, Oregon Dunes National Recreation Area, Florence, Oregon, 2006
I organized this image around three layers. The foreground layer is a mass of dark grass that anchors the scene. The footprints around that grass echo footprints that extend into the other two layers as well. The subject layer is the middle ground. A woman incongruously carries what appears to be a violin case with her as she leaves the beach. Her trail of footprints leads back to a hiker carrying a staff. Another trail of footprints extends to a ridge of grass extending into the background, leading to two more people in the distant background. A large slope of green grass flows down from the upper right hand corner, rhythmically repeating the foreground layer. The entire image hangs together, linked by clumps of grass, and the movements of people on the dunes.
11-MAY-2006
Desert plant, Phoenix, Arizona, 2006
As you will see from the many other examples in this gallery, there are many ways to compose an image. In this case, nature itself has organized the image for us. All we need to do is find the most expressive spot from where we can photograph this work of nature. This plant is comprised of a series of symmetrical leaves, fanning out from the center to create a radial composition. Radial compositions are those in which key elements spread out from the middle of the frame towards the corners and edges. I center this symmetrical subject by standing over it at a slight angle. I use my spot meter to expose on the brightest leaves, and the rest of the image becomes darker and more abstracted. The radial composition gives the image a sense of latent energy, even though the subject itself is static.
31-MAR-2006
Naxi woman, Baisha, China, 2006
This woman has been bent by the heavy burdens she has carried on her back since youth. In the Naxi culture, women seem to perform the hardest and most demanding tasks. I saw her approaching from a distance and composed the structure of this image in my mind beforehand. I built the image around a diagonal drainage ditch that slashes through the center of the image. I saw how it linked to two horizontal elements – the shadow of the building in the background and the log at right. All I needed to complete the idea was a third horizontal element between them. The angle of the sun would provide just that as the woman stepped across the ditch and moved into the right hand side of my frame. Her shadow extends horizontally back towards the ditch, rhythmically repeating the other two horizontal elements flowing off of that diagonal ditch. I chose to organize my image in this way not because it looks nice, but because it helps the picture work more effectively as expression. This composition reinforces the central idea of this picture – a life of burden and obstacles. She had to move thorough the darkness of that shadow, cross a ditch in her way, and now must deal with that log. Her body appears to be weighed down with burdens, and her path has not been an easy one.
28-MAR-2006
Changing of the guard, Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial, Taipei, Taiwan, 2006
The guard is changed at Taipei's memorial to the former leader of the Republic of China. After a long civil war, Chiang left Mainland China to the Communists and brought his Republic of China to Taiwan. His memorial features an enormous seated statue similar to the Lincoln Memorial in Washington DC. Several times a day, the honor guard is changed with great ceremony and precision. Setting the focal length of my zoom lens to 300mm, I was able to flatten perspective so that the four guards are fused into one element, a series of rhythmically repeating shapes that carry us into the image. I carefully selected my vantage point so that the marble molding in the background repeats the curve of the helmets in just the right spot. The marble wall is as much about order and precision, as the row of disciplined soldiers. Chiang was soldier himself. He would appreciate such discipline and the effort it takes to maintain it.
01-APR-2006
Lunch, Shigu, China, 2006
Shigu is a village about an hours drive from Lijiang. It stands near a great bend of the Yangtze River. It was here that Mao's Communist army crossed the Yangtze as it veered north on its famous "Long March" in October 1934. Mao avoided defeat in the Chinese Civil War, and saved his army. There is a monument to the event on a cliff at Shigu. Not far away, this threesome shares some rice and tea. I composed this image as a geometric echo – the three men, all wearing dark clothing, are as balanced in their placement as the table, stools and restaurant sign are behind them. I usually stay away from centered compositions. I find them formal and often static. But in this case it works because of the way the balanced furniture and restaurant façade complement each other.
06-APR-2006
Guardian, Jingjiang Royal Mausoleum, Guilin, China, 2006
Eleven generations of Guilin’s rulers are buried in more than 300 tombs behind this figure. I put this image together as a series of layers – the statue, the trees behind it, and the wall behind them. The foreground layer is the subject – the body language of the sculpture is eloquent, and the texture timeless. The curves of its shoulders and arms seamlessly complement the diagonal slopes of the trees beyond. The coarse texture and rich color of the trees contrast strikingly to the smooth textures and flat color of the sculpture. The wall in the background adds a third layer of color, and in its brickwork, an order of its own. Taken together, all three layers express an aura of timeless serenity yet also as sense of shrewd authority. I use composition here to simplify, blend, and amplify this message. It does it well.
24-MAR-2006
Aboard the Kobe-Kyoto Express, Kyoto, Japan, 2006
The one hour commute from Kobe (by way of Osaka) to Kyoto was similar to rush hour rides elsewhere. Every seat was taken, and so were most of the straps. I shot this from my seat, holding the camera low and using my flip up LCD viewing screen to good advantage. I organized the image on an arc, beginning by emphasizing the woman at lower right, and then moving up and across the frame from there. The image came together for me when the woman at left lifted her head to look up, her gaze rhythmically repeating the upward thrust of the train's ceiling just over her head.
05-APR-2006
Twin Bridges, Guilin, China, 2006
Elegantly curved twin bridges separate Banyan Lake from Rong Lake and help give Guilin its identity as one of the most scenic cities in China. This image had to be built around the thrust of its composition. The light was gray and flat, and there was so little color in the scene that I converted the image to black and white, strengthening the image by abstracting it and making it seem timeless. I chose to use classically centered composition here to echo the symmetry of the bridges, the arch of the overhead trees, and the scenic lake and mountain setting beyond. I waited for two people to simultaneously cross the same bridge and released the shutter as each of them was leaving the frame. They create tension by pulling the eye out of the picture, contrasting strongly with the centered composition.
10-FEB-2006
Duet, Barstow, California, 2006
A pair of enormous three-dimensional flying red horses – an advertising display from a long since departed gas station – soars above Tom’s Welding and Machine Shop. It is part of a huge collection of nostalgic automotive memorabilia that the shop’s owner has assembled over the years. Rather than shoot the horses from the front, I walked behind the display and found an angle where the hoof of one horse is almost touching the leg of the other. I did not shoot the entire display – only the forelegs and part of the body of each horse. The sun strikes the sign neither from front or back – it illuminates only the thick edges of the display. I cherished the presence of the horizontal bar supporting both horses – it links them together, yet at the same time keeps them apart. The key to this composition is the space I was able to leave between the hoof and the leg. I left just enough to make this image crackle with tension, and convey the point I wanted to get across: energy.
12-FEB-2006
Junkyard, Barstow, California, 2006
A giant crane poised over a Barstow junkyard is wreathed in contrails from morning jets flying out of LA or Las Vegas. The crane is a wrecker's tool, used to create new wealth out of old goods. Barstow stands upon the remnants of Route US 66—the first highway to link Chicago to California. If there is an emblem to symbolize the end of the era that created the need for a Route 66, it could be right here. I made this image because the two most important compositional elements were already in place for me -- the diagonal crane and a diagonal jet contrail dissolving in the sky. All I had to do was to move my camera into a position where the contrail and crane would merge in the sky – a linkage of symbols for the air age and industrial age. I used my spot meter to expose for the contrail, allowing the crane and the junkyard below it to become an abstract silhouette. A crowning touch was offered the other horizontal contrail at left. It flows into the diagonal contrail and crane, and its horizontal successor emerges from the other side as a long black bar on a junked truck. As a result, this image has two strong rhythmic repetitions within it – the primary diagonal relationship, and a secondary horizontal relationship.
07-FEB-2006
View from Kolob Terrace Road, Zion National Park, Utah, 2006
Whatever success this image may have as expression is due to its composition. I anchored the photograph around the double line on the road. It functions as a “leading line” – drawing the eye deeply into the image, and then suddenly vanishing as the road drops away down a steep hill. We are pulled over the hill and led to the majestic red sandstone cliff at its base. That leading line gives this image a three dimensional effect by stressing implied depth perception. The deep brown road (yes, the roads in Zion are reddish brown), flanked by green bushes, fills almost half the image, while the huge cliff at is base reflects the pinkish glow of the setting sun remaining in the sky. The faint pink clouds in the sky are laced with horizontal lines that echo the horizontal grooves on the face of the cliff. Even the distant background adds context by including a group of purple mountains flowing to the right hand edge of the image. Everything in this image is working together to stress to idea: the glory of Zion National Park.
25-OCT-2005
Hidalgo Market, Guanajuato, Mexico, 2005
The huge iron framed hall opened in 1910. It now features enormous Mexican movie posters. I base this composition on the rhythmic repetition of the six curving arched roof supports, seven smaller diagonal supporting bars, and the three huge posters. The incongruously cartoonish posters offer a diagonal band of color that flows in steps from the left hand edge to the lower right corner of the picture, while the series of arching roof supports reach from the lower left towards the upper right hand corner. These crossing diagonals flow in opposite directions, pulling the eye through the image twice.
26-OCT-2005
Church of San Roque, Guanajuato, Mexico, 2005
I express the age and character of this little church, built in 1726, by emphasizing the line, color, and texture within a small intersection of its surfaces. In composing this image, I’ve isolated the repeating diagonals on the left side of the frame, and contrasted them to the repeating verticals on the right hand side. Putting this picture together was like completing a puzzle, making each part fit perfectly into the other. I’ve tried to make this small section represent the beauty of the whole.
12-JUN-2005
Old Roofs, Bruges, Belgium, 2005
This image expresses the passage of time, as the roofs of these old houses and a single puffy cloud flow across the frame. The composition of the picture helps us accomplish this. Composing this image involved two critical decisions – where to stand, and when to release the shutter. I selected my vantage point first, because that determines what is in and what is out of my frame. I chose a camera position that includes four chimneys and one dormer window, carrying the eye from the upper left hand corner across the frame to just below the middle of the right hand edge. I also kept the spacing around the chimneys at the edges of the frame as consistent as possible, creating tension to energize the image. The mid-day sun creates high key lighting contrast along these roofs. I used this contrasting interplay of light and shadow to build a series of four repeating diagonal thrusts between the tiled roofs. The cloud is also an important element of the composition. It explodes across the right hand side of the frame, carrying the eye out of the picture. I had to wait a few minutes for that cloud to get where I wanted it to go, and only then did I squeeze the shutter release.
07-JUN-2005
The Journey, Brussels, Belgium, 2005
I pre-visualized the composition of this image, basing my idea on how the late evening light was striking the posts that lined a reflecting pool near Brussels’ old fish market. Using a 24mm wideangle lens, I anchor the image with the large diagonal slab at lower right, positioning it to lead the eye through the series of the twenty or so posts that gradually fade into the background. The fading light illuminates the closest post to the camera, then falls into shadow, shining again on the sixth through twelfth posts. This repetition of lighted posts created a pattern of movement offering a symbolic context for a human subject. All I needed was a person walking towards me along the narrow ledge next to the water. It took a while, but eventually this woman materialized -- exactly as I had pre-visualized it. I saw her emerge from the shadows, and when she reached this spot, I made this image. She had journeyed from darkness into light, and will soon pass into darkness again, offering a metaphor for the cycle of life itself.
12-JUN-2005
Historical character, Bruges, Belgium, 2005
It is the quaint ornamental detail such as this that gives historical character to the architecture of Bruges. Instead of photographing a whole building or group of buildings, I used a medium telephoto lens to reach out and bring these symbolic embellishments together in a coherent, expressive way. I narrowed my composition down to three rectangular posts and one triangular spire, supporting four characteristic details -- two weathervanes, an ornamental sculpture and a heraldic beast. The morning light created strong contrasts and deep shadows. I chose a vertical format to extend the height of these embellishments as much as possible. My decision to place the heraldic beast within the triangular spire behind it was an important one. It gives this image a consistent diagonal flow of movement beginning in the lower left hand corner and carrying the eye through to the upper right hand corner. The image gradually soars upwards with whimsy, grace, and elegance, a study in historical character, expressed largely through detail.
18-JAN-2005
Monastery Fence, Huay Xai, Laos, 2005
The lotus, an emblem of Buddhism, adorns the posts of this monastery fence. I organized this image in a series of three layers. The first layer, focal point of the photograph, is built around the fence and the lotus sculpture, the subjects of this image. I placed the lotus just to the right of the softly focused door in the background wall, the second layer. The eye exits through a softly focused gateway at right, leading to the third and final layer, a shadowed wall with a painting on it. I wanted this image to express a sense of serenity and quiet, which is very much the nature of the monastery it represents.
19-JAN-2005
Hmong Children, near Pak Beng, Laos, 2005
Large groups of Hmong children greeted us in the dusty river villages along the Mekong River. I originally had composed this image as a horizontal, including eight children instead of five. It was a fragmented, diffused grouping, which had some of the children looking in different directions, and poor spacing between those at the right and left hand edges. I reorganized the image by cropping it into to a vertical format, including only this tightly integrated cluster of five children. Their positions of the hands and feet vary, yet the heads of the children on each end are higher than the others, and serve as visual “bookends.” These children have grouped themselves alongside of a log that moves us diagonally through the image. More importantly, the group has arranged itself with coherence instead of chaos. All are fascinated as they watch visiting tourists move into their small village, and all look in the same direction. The colors of their clothing relate as well – none scream for attention. The image expresses a cultural divide as well –although all of them harmonize in terms of color, some wear contemporary clothes while the others wear traditional garments. Times are changing, even in remote of Laotian river villages. The only thing I did to organize this image for coherence and meaning – was to crop it. The children spontaneously composed the rest of it for me.
Evening Cattle Drive, Bagan, Myanmar, 2005
Using a long 432mm telephoto lens, I could bring this parade of cattle on the road into juxtaposition with the ruins of the ancient temples behind them. Together they form a timeless vision of this ancient Burmese city where ruins and farms have existed side by side for centuries. I structured this image in a series of layers moving from bottom to top. The cattle form the base layer, the trees and farmhouse the middle layer, and the ruined temples and mountains form the background. The base layer is the subject of the picture itself, with the other two layers adding context for meaning. The middle ground portrays Bagan as it functions today – a farming community, while the background gives a sense of what Bagan might have looked like a thousand years ago, when it ruled a great Burmese empire. The fading dusky light has muted the colors, and given the image a flatness making it into a tapestry expressing the flavor of Old Bagan.
19-OCT-2004
Yellow, Green, White and Red, Near Bridgeport, California, 2004
I composed this image out of color itself. By moving in to isolate the snow covered red and green bushes in my frame, and using background entirely of yellow leaves, I create not only seasonal contrasts, but color contrasts as well. The rich yellow, a primary color, provides a vibrant, incongruous context for the snow-covered bushes. It ironic that snow, the subject of this picture, provides the most neutral color in this composition. This photograph expresses seasonal change – the end of fall and the coming of winter – in the Eastern Sierra.
17-OCT-2004
Sierra Snows, near Conway Summit, California, 2004
As the sun rises on the Sierra Nevada Mountains, we stop to photograph the almost theatrical effect of dawn light and color on the snow caped peaks, as well the desert of sagebrush leading up to them. I organize this image into a series of horizontal bands making up separate five layers. The first layer is the foreground, which I build around a road entering the picture at the bottom of the frame, and then curling right, into the heart of the sage. The second band is a transitional layer of sage that joins the desert to range of dark hills in the middle of the image. These hills, my third layer, are in shadow. Part of that shadow connects them to the dramatic snow capped peaks, making up the fourth layer – the focal point and subject of this image. The fifth and final layer is the sky, which is filled with thin golden clouds that echo the pinkish orange color of the snow on the mountains.
19-OCT-2004
Wet Curve, near the California-Nevada Border, 2004
A rainy fall day in the Eastern Sierras provides spectacular views of a rugged, yet beautiful, landscape. To make this scene work as a photograph, I compose it around a series of striking contrasts in color, texture, and directional thrusts. I fill the foreground with a wet road flanked by dual focal points – a brilliant yellow tree on the left, and a car about to take a curve to the right, its tires leaving a fine mist of water in its wake. I contrast this colorful flow of the road moving right, to a series of light brown hills bearing hundreds of leafless trees that zig and zag both to the left and to the right as they climb towards the top of the frame. A forest fire probably scourged these hills, still another way that nature works on the land. Man, nature, rain, fire, color, and movement – all play their parts in this memorable scene.
18-OCT-2004
Restaurant, Bridgeport, California, 2004
The Bridgeport Inn’s restaurant offers patrons the option of viewing Main Street from an outdoor stool as they dine. There were no takers while we were there. The temperature was in the 30’s. In this image I try to build layer after layer of potential meaning upon each other. I shot this scene from inside of the restaurant itself, and anchor it with the tops of two dining chairs flanking a small American flag, some flowers, and a glass. These objects are all in shadow so as not to conflict with the other layers. This abstracted foreground layer contrasts to the next layer – four outdoor stools. Behind them a neon sign is sandwiched between lace curtains and another American flag, which softly waves over the street. The neon, focal point of picture, as well as the genteel curtains, offer symbols referring to both time and place. Bridgeport is in rural America, where patriotism is boldly displayed at every opportunity. The sign, curtains and flag would have been just at home here fifty years ago. Still another layer is created by the geometry of woodwork that offers us a frame within a frame, drawing our eyes out to the street beyond. This framing gives the image its illusion of depth. The street scene in the back of the image is the last layer. All that comes before it is carefully controlled, as if it were a stage set. But the public street represents the real, almost accidental, world -- commercial buildings with “closed” signs in their windows, a man walking a dog, and a car for sale, which has been parked on the street for days. The comfortable Inn and its restaurant are designed to make visitors to Bridgeport feel at home, but the street outside is for everyone and everything.
05-SEP-2004
Walking the Alfama, Lisbon, Portugal, 2004
The Alfama was once the entire Moorish city of Lisbon -- a warren of tiny, twisting streets wrapped around a hillside below the Citadel of St. George. Today's Alfama is one of Lisbon's most picturesque neighborhoods. No Moorish houses remain, but the quarter retains its Kasbah-like layout. Compact houses such as these line its steep cobblestone streets –walking the Alfama is like walking through time. And that is what I am trying to imply with this image. I want you to walk with me, explore with me, acquiring a sense of place as you walk those cobblestones. Every picture should a focal point – an area that draws the eye. As soon as I saw the warm, nostalgic color of that house on the corner, I knew I had found the focal point for this image. I organized this picture around the contrast between the light and shadow, as well as between the brown cobblestones and the reddish house on the corner. I back away, framing the picture to follow the flow of the four posts lining the sidewalk on the right side of the picture. They lead us from the shadows into the light, and then into the shadows again. The tops of the last two posts reach up and point to the house itself, inviting us to walk through that door and into history. The house offers more than just lovely color. It glows softly. The sun has bounced off the windows of a house across the street from it, casting their reflections upon the wall of the reddish house. These reflections are important. Just as those posts pull our eyes towards that reddish house, the reflections of those windows continue the flow of light through this picture. Our eyes move from the bright cobblestones into the dark shadows, and then up to the glowing window reflections on the wall of the reddish house. Another factor at work in my composition is the curve of the curb. It plays a pivotal role in leading the eye through the picture and to the red house. Meanwhile, the repeating patterns of the cobblestone street create a matrix of geometric shapes that are echoed by the tiles on the roof of the house. I was fully conscious of all of these factors as I composed this image. I took about five or six versions of it, each from a different vantage point. This is the one that worked the best.
30-AUG-2004
Ebb tide, St. Malo, France, 2004
St. Malo is a maritime city. It has always made its reputation and living from the sea. It is remembered in history as the City of Corsairs, sending its famous mariners out to make discoveries, fight wars, and seize foreign ships as prizes. Yet these St. Malo boats are not going anywhere until the tide returns. I made this image from high on the ramparts surrounding the city, fascinated by the sight of six boats in various stages of distress. It is an incongruous concept – we are used to seeing boats riding at anchor in the water, not uselessly anchored while on land. I organized my picture around the “s-curve” or “zigzag” principle. I want to pull your eye back and forth across the frame as you move back into the picture. I anchor my image (pun intended) at the bottom of the frame. The dark mass of kelp surrounding the helpless boat in the lower right foreground is the focal point of the picture. I hope you will then move back to the left, comparing the only ship that seems to be actually floating at anchor to its beached companions. Our eyes move up its mast to the boat just behind it, and then sweep right along a string of muck to another boat, just inland, before returning left again, back to the shoreline. While we are busily moving back and forth, we are also moving into the depths of this picture. As we arrive at the most distant boats, we come to dry sand and a curving beach, and then the sea finally carries us out of the picture at upper right. This kind of composition is the equivalent of a journey, and works best when that journey is the point of the picture itself. In this case, it most certainly is.
02-SEP-2004
Façade, Fonseca College, Santiago de Compostela, Spain, 2004
This structure, the original building of Fonseca College, dates back to the 16th century. It is used today to house the University's library. My point in making this picture was to express its extreme age, and by implication, its value to the community. After 500 years, this religious statue and its surrounding columns – a study in weathered texture -- still stand alongside of a busy street. The soft light and worn texture speak volumes about age, yet this image is still basically flat, without much depth perspective or dimensionality. To add such perspective, I first shifted the statue from the middle of frame to the left hand side, so that it looks into the picture. Off center subject placement usually adds a bit of tension and appears less static and predictable, but it did not solve this flat perspective issue. Then I realized that the shadow under the canopy over the statue seems to make it emerge from the past, and peer out on the present and future. But we still have an essentially a flat image. So I stepped back further to bring a low hanging tree branch into the frame, moving the camera so that the branch seems to reach out the statue, as if to grasp it. We now must look through these branches into the picture, which most definitely implies depth, and adds a sense of perspective to a picture that had very little before I included that branch in the frame. This bit of depth perspective, coupled with the mellow color, soft light, worn textures and the canopy shadows, carries us back into time – and that is how I made this image speak. Do you agree or disagree with my approach here? Please leave your comments, questions, and criticisms. I will respond, and our dialogue can help everyone who comes here can then learn more about expressing ideas photographically.
19-JUN-2004
Morning in the park, Beijing, China, 2004
A man greets the day with exercise along a canal – an image alternating energy with tranquility. I placed the man to the left of the frame, and began the flow of stonework lining the canal precisely in the lower left hand corner. It draws the eye to the man, and then proceeds to diagonally flow to the bridge in the upper right hand corner. I also saw the other man crossing the bridge, and waited until his reflection was visible between the trees to make this picture. This is a complicated image with many different forms – two people, lots of stonework, water, trees, and a bridge. All of which create the two opposing forces in the image – energy and tranquility. The purpose of my composition is to organize everything so that the eye flows easily to the key points of the picture and to intensify contrast between the movement of the man’s arms and the stillness of the rest of the image.
21-JUN-2004
On the march, Emperor Qin’s Tomb, Xian, China, 2004
Twenty-five of the 6,000 life-sized terracotta soldiers guarding the underground tomb of China’s first emperor appear to be on the move in this image. By zooming in with a telephoto lens on just one small part of one rank, and then tilting my camera, I create diagonal flow from upper left to lower right, which gives the soldiers a sense of movement. The most important details in this picture are the faces, no two of which are alike, and the hands, which help bring the bodies to life. The right hands once carried actual spears, and the left hands seem to swing freely in the air. The free left hand of the soldier in the fourth row at far right is the focal point of the picture because it is the only hand with much space around it. The eye goes to that hand, and the picture takes its energy from it, because that is the spot of the most tension. As we compose our images, we must always be aware of where tension is coming from, and do whatever we can to draw the eye to it. In this picture, the line of the trench on the right hand side of the picture and the file of soldiers closet to it, provides the hardest edge in the image. The right hand of that soldier is suspended in the air directly against that edge. That’s why it is the point of maximum tension, and that’s why I organized this picture as I did.
01-JUL-2004
Water flow, Three Gorges Dam, Sandouping, China, 2004
In this image, I try to hone down the world’s largest dam to its essence – sheer energy. It’s a simple idea: one spout of water plays against the curve of the dam itself and the turbulence of surging water at its base. I placed the entry point of the spout at the upper left hand corner, stabilizing it with the strong vertical wall at the left edge of the picture. I adjusted my framing so the curving spout of water strikes the river at lower right, literally creating a strong diagonal flow from corner to corner. I juxtapose this diagonal against a counter-diagonal – the base of the dam itself, which offers a sweeping curve through the picture from upper right to lower left. I use a shutter speed of 1/800th of a second to freeze the droplets of water as they fly through the air, and simultaneously freeze the movement of the river as it lashes the base of the dam as well. I had very little time to compose this image – the flying spray coated my lens and made picture-taking impossible within seconds. I had to envision the composition in my mind first, then lift the camera into position and shoot in one quick, fluid motion. It was not an easy task. Most of my shots showed nothing but a very wet lens. I had to practice the quick shot over and over until I could do it fast enough to succeed.
01-JUL-2004
Energy, Three Gorges Dam, Sandouping, China, 2004
Another view of the worlds largest dam in operation, and another message as well. In this attempt, I compose an image around three elements—linking a larger view of the dam itself, to a blast of water being released at its base, and the power towers that surround the project. I organized this image around a series of horizontal layers. At the base is frothing water and an explosive thrust of pent up energy coming through the dam. The middle layer features the dam’s upper portion, a series of vertical niches that carry the eye across the frame towards the base of the powerlines in the upper right hand corner. The top layer includes a red tower, an echo of the two similar red towers the bottom, as well as the powerline towers themselves. Diffusion caused by spray on my lens gives the image and its colors an overall muted tone, bringing a dream-like aura to the scene.
14-JUN-2004
Summer Rain, Nanjing Road, Shanghai, China, 2004
It rains a lot in China in June. That fact should not keep photographers from making expressive images. It should actually help them. Flat lighting such as this eliminates harsh shadows, intensifies color, and wet surfaces can often reflect our subjects back at us. Such is the case here. For this photograph, I found a useful high vantage point, a children’s playground set into the middle of Shanghai’s most famous pedestrian shopping street. I climbed a small tower built over a series of slides and bars. It even had a roof on it so I could keep my camera dry. This high position allowed me to compose a picture filling half the frame with the paving tiles of the street itself, which created a glistening reflective patterned grid. The top half of the picture was dominated by the ornate entrance to the East Asia Hotel, with its arched doorway, illuminated display panels, and a pair of brilliantly colored advertisements. All I needed was a determined shopper to complete the picture. One eventually obliged, and I photographed him as the curve of his umbrella passed beneath the curve of the hotel’s entrance.
18-APR-2004
Victorian Façade, Villa Montezuma, San Diego, California, 2004
I tried to capture the flavor of the Victorian era through the colors and design in this abstract image of one of San Diego’s well-preserved 19th Century buildings – the Villa Montezuma. In this image, I organize elements of light and shadow, color and form, man made materials and the work of nature, into a coherent whole. The bold black shadows lead the eye into the picture from the top left and then move us down into through middle of the image in rhythmic steps. Notice how the diagonal shadows at the center also echo the slant of the thin diagonal shadow at left, as well as the repeating diagonal grooves on the wallboards at lower right. I also organize this photograph with repeating colors. A green plant sprouts into the picture diagonally from the lower right hand corner, its leaves echoed by the horizontal green bar splitting the right hand side of the picture. Plant shapes also show up on the orange tiles at left. Finally, the orange shingles compliment the color of the tiles. Looked at as a whole, this very small slice of patterned light, shadow, and color takes us back to another era in San Diego’s history.
17-APR-2004
Storm’s End, Point Loma Harbor, San Diego, California, 2004
Seagulls are common subjects in travel photography. To make an uncommon picture of one, I’ve used backlighting to abstract the bird and the roof it is perched upon. When abstracted, the shapes of both roof and bird can speak to us without distraction, and more easily guide the eye through the picture. I included the rooftop rod at left because it is higher than the gull, and leads us down to it. I shot this gull many times, hoping to get its beak in this exact position. The shape of the beak echoes the pointed shape of the roof shingle just to the right of it. Five more tiles gradually lead us down and out of the picture.
The huge cloud behind the gull offers a visual counterpoint to the mass of the roof. Between the cloud and the roof, we see clear sky. This is called “negative space.” Negative space often helps us organize our pictures. In this case, it creates a light gray wedge that points directly to the gull, the subject of the photograph-.
17-APR-2004
Dragon Vane, Villa Montezuma, San Diego, California, 2004
The cupola of this bizarre Victorian mansion is topped by a weathervane featuring a fierce dragon instead of the traditional rooster or directional symbols. Using a telephoto converter lens to enlarge the small weathervane as much as possible, I tilted the camera to move the dragon into the upper left corner. Holding the dragon there, I then gradually pivoted the frame so that its lower right hand corner embraced the seam on the corner of the cupola’s roof. The eye now moves freely on a diagonal axis from corner to corner and the dragon seems to be ready to spin on its vane. The deeply saturated blue sky and orange roof offer an appropriately garish color match for the green dragon with the arrow in its mouth.
07-JAN-2004
Icy Rookery, Paradise Harbor, Antarctica, 2004
It is very difficult to compose large numbers of penguins into a coherent image. There were at least 40 Gentoos nesting and milling about in this part of their rookery, and I was looking for a way to make it all hang together. I noticed the shape of the iceberg that looms behind them -- it seems to have two heads, one going left, and the other right. I watched the behavior of the two penguins standing directly below. Their heads were down, watching the nests. After all, that’s their job. I hoped they would lift their heads up, and my wish was granted. Not only did they raise their heads – one penguin looks left and the other looks right, creating a rhythmic relationship with the iceberg behind them. All the other penguins in the picture now become context for this pair, as the picture organizes itself around this rhythmic repetition.
Ripples, Beagle Channel, Tierra del Fuego, Argentina, 2004
I seldom rely on special effects to enhance my photographs. I prefer to keep things pretty much as I saw them. But every now and then an opportunity comes along to try a graphic technique that might help tell my story more effectively. Such is the case here. The key to this image is the flow of the ripples in the water of the Beagle Channel, a vital waterway which carried our ship from the end of Argentina into the Drake Passage and on down to Antarctica. The procession of soft horizontal ripples covers more than half the picture. The sky also seems rippled by two horizontal clouds. In between them, snow-clad mountains plunge straight down into the water. The ripples have a calming effect. To intensify the calmness of the scene, I needed to simplify an already simple picture to an even greater degree. In effect, I needed to recompose the picture by removing every superfluous element I could. To do this, I removed all color from the image in Photoshop, converting it to a black and white picture. This offered a very clean, abstract look, but it was still a bit too harsh for the point I was trying to make. I then added brown to the mix, making this photo into a duotone. Brown is a warming color and calming color. The ripples became as soft as velvet – exactly the effect I wanted. I had captured feel of the Beagle Channel as I remembered it on that evening – almost as smooth as glass. A far cry from the churning waters of the Drake Passage that lay dead ahead.
07-JAN-2004
Icebergs Everywhere, Antarctica, 2004
Composing a picture from the deck of a moving cruise ship is a difficult task. The problem is lack of compelling foreground subject matter. Most pictures made from cruise ships are flat because they lack depth perspective. There must be either a strong texture in the foreground body of water, or else there must be a progression or layering of subject matter from front to back, such as we can easily find on land. Layering subject matter provides depth, perspective, and scale contrasts. I saw the immense iceberg pictured here getting closer and closer to us as we progressed through the icy seas off the Antarctic Peninsula. Its shape reminded me of a huge sunken freighter. I realized, however, that unless I could get something else between my camera position and that iceberg, my picture would be flat, and lack perspective. Fortunately, a much smaller iceberg was also moving closer to us as we approached it, and it was much closer to the side of our ship as well. We could almost reach down and touch it. It made a perfect foreground layer, leading the viewer’s eye directly to the big iceberg, and providing a scale contrast indicating just how large that distant iceberg really is. I shot just as the reflection of the foreground iceberg appeared in the lower right hand corner of my picture. It rhythmically echoes the triangular shape of the big iceberg in the upper left hand corner, which in turn is repeated by the same shape at top center. If we drew a line connecting these three triangles, we would create still another triangle diagonally tying this image together.
27-DEC-2003
Shopping Mall, Iquique, Chile, 2003
This image places us within an improvised shopping mall comprised of very small shops in a quiet corner of one of the hottest, driest cities in the world. The Atacama Desert is just inland, and its dust coats everything in town. These merchants have raised a canopy over their street, hoping to ward off heat and dirt. This canopy gives the photo great depth perspective, as well as a flow of pattern to lead the eye where I wanted it to go. Sunlight pours through the canopy at an angle, creating a ribbon of white light down the middle of the dirt street, leading the eye deeply into the heart of the picture and stopping virtually at the feet of a woman who stands before a tour agency, probably waiting for customers. The receding row of doorways along the left side of the picture also draws us into the photo. Everything leads us to the patient woman and the signs that surround her.
21-DEC-2003
Unloading the Catch, Manta, Ecuador, 2003
Powerful abstraction and diagonal composition turns a mundane task into a heroic image. This fisherman is moving hundreds of tuna from the depths of a fishing boat to the bed of a huge truck. He does it with a hoist, a net, and a lot of strength. As he pulls on the big net, he creates a diagonal thrust moving from the lower left hand corner of the picture into his hands. The hoist behind him is tilted at the same diagonal angle, creating a rhythmic, repetitive flow of line that glues this picture together. In between, we see the shining tails of abstracted fish, giving context and meaning to the picture. But the core of the image is the man himself. My low vantage point has thrust his abstracted body against the evening sky. His bent leg echoes the diagonal lines of both net and hoist. Much is left to the imagination of the viewer. How does he feel about what he doing? What does he look like? How many fish are there? It is a photograph that asks questions and invites viewers to answer them with their own imaginations.
25-DEC-2003
Cemetery, Poncochile, Chile, 2003
"You die here, you dry here," they say in Chile’s Atacama Desert. There was not a blade of grass in Poncochile's Cemetery. It does not rain here. This the driest desert on earth. I saw this cemetery as a series of layers in space, and created the perception of depth by relating one layer to another. A wideangle perspective is essential. Using a 24mm wideangle converter lens on my camera, I anchored the shot around the boulders in the foreground. These boulders echo the shapes of the hills that rise in the background. Instead of centering the boulders in the frame, I move them off to the right, leaving a path on the right for the eye to flow into the image. The middle layer is the cemetery itself, frail wooden crosses adrift in a field of sand. The third layer is a progression of the rolling barren hills of the Atacama itself, where nothing lives – an eerie echo of the nature of the cemetery itself. All three layers interact, supporting each other to express the nature of this place. Poncochile is a small town in a very hard place, and this is where it buries its dead.
09-AUG-2002
Chukchi home, Yandrakinot, Siberia, Russia, 2002
Many photographers will automatically place their center of interest in the middle of the picture. I prefer off-center placement for most subjects because it gives the viewer a better chance to compare and contrast elements within the picture. For example, in this shot of a Chukchi house, I am trying to make the point that it must withstand some of the most severe weather on earth. Their homes have no landscaping, and can't hold a coat of paint. Yet some of the Chukchi, such those that live in this house, manage a bit of decoration by putting plants in their windows. The off-center placement of the window allows for a stronger comparison with the crumbling siding on the right.
25-APR-2003
Staircase, Melk Abbey, Austria, 2003
To me, the most amazing sight offered at the Abbey of Melk is this spiral staircase that connects its library to its church. Awestruck, I stood at the bottom, looked up at the golden spiral exploding in a burst of painted illusions, and created one of my favorite travel images. The subject itself is very disorienting, and I wanted viewers to feel its dizzying pull. However, I also wanted to make sure that the picture was organized simply and cleanly. To do this, I start the spiral on its merry way by placing it in the lower left hand corner of the frame, and letting it explode diagonally upwards and to the right, until it comes to rest under a decorative orange dome just to the right of center. Most of my pictures have a focal point, a place for the eye to go. In this shot, it's that orange dome, which also makes the point of the picture. The orange dome is much smaller than the flights of stairs that lead to it, and its relatively small size shows us how large this staircase is -- a remarkable feat of engineering for its time.
28-DEC-2002
Congress Building, Montevideo, Uruguay, 2002
Fifty different types of beautiful Uruguayan marble can be found on the walls, pillars, and benches that line Uruguay's Congress Building. Instead of trying to show all of them, I move in and simplify my image by taking a closer vantage point. I want this picture to express the beauty of these decorative embellishments and the workmanship that went into them. I contrast four different kinds of marble with each other by leading the eye into the picture at lower left, then moving into the picture along the marble railing to the black diamond -- the focal point of this image. The diamond provides a strong contrast to the three different kinds of marble that flank it.
03-MAY-2003
Cafe in the Jordaan, Amsterdam, Holland, 2003
Known as "brown cafes", Amsterdam's popular local pubs offer cozy surroundings, warm hospitality, good food, and plenty of Dutch beer. Often located in old canal houses, they are usually smoky and crowded. This one in the tranquil Jordaan neighborhood is neither -- it's a bit too early for lunch and much too late for breakfast. The boss has borrowed the bar for a temporary office. Although the boss is small and backlit, he is my focal point. I bring my wideangle lens to within inches of those glasses on the right, and sweep the eye deeply into the picture to the boss by using the entire bar as my leading line.
30-APR-2003
Evening on the canal, Amsterdam, Holland, 2003
Amsterdam's canals are lined with more than 3,000 houseboats, most of which have postal addresses and use city electricity. If this picture showed only the canal and its houseboats, the eye of the viewer would go right to the "hole in the donut" -- the water. I needed a strong focal point and had to wait a while for it. Eventually, a boat full of tourists passed under the bridge I was standing on. A guide in the front of that boat made a perfect focal point for my shot -- his body language and authority come through even though he is quite small in size. He provides a good scale contrast to the crowded banks of the canal -- the point of my picture.
26-APR-2003
Medieval carving, St. Paul's Church, Passau, Germany, 2003
I was astonished by the lifelike quality of this carving, and moved in as closely as I could to capture it in detail. The first few photos I made of it were more descriptive than interpretive. To make the image more dynamic and give it a sense of movement, I did two simple things. First, I moved back a bit to add a touch of context, and give the head a bit more room to work within the frame. Then I tilted my camera slightly, so that the carving flows diagnally from corner to corner. Diagonal flow can often add a sense of movement through the heart of an image, adding energy and vitality. That's what happens here.
29-DEC-2002
Cat of La Boca, Buenos Aires, Argentina, 2002
Good luck comes to those who work at it. After shooting several hundred digital images in La Boca, a Buenos Aires waterfront neighborhood known for its colorful buildings, I was on my way back to our bus when a black cat ran in front of me and took a perfect position on a multi-colored fence in front of a multi-colored building. However, I had to do a bit more than just get the cat in the frame and take the picture. I wanted to relate the cat to its context as strongly as possible so I moved my camera position until I was able to create this double diagonal flow of energy through the picture. The line of the cat's back runs on the diagonal. And the green, blue, and orange painted structures create a diagonal series of steps through this picture as well. This little exercise in organization provided one of my favorite pictures of Buenos Aires. So much for that "Black Cat" myth.
24-DEC-2002
Christmas eve, Copacabana Beach, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, 2002
Thousands crowd the sands of Rio's most famous beach on a warm but cloudy Christmas eve. To make a coherent picture of this mass of people, I walked down the beach until I found a line of bathers that I could place in my frame as a diagonal line. The shot is anchored by the woman at the lower left -- as the line recedes, the bodies get smaller and smaller and the crowd seems larger and larger.
23-FEB-2000
Dragon Boat Landing, Hue, Vietnam, 2000
I waited a few minutes for someone to walk down these steps to board the boat at rivers edge. I shot as this man entered the frame, creating maximum tension in the spacing between him, and where he is going. The tension is enhanced by double diagonal thrusts: the steps slant down to boat, and the boat angles back into upper left hand corner, marked by Vietnam's fluttering flag. I provide a series of three focal points along the way -- the man, the boat, and the flag, which lead the eye through the entire picture.
16-JUL-2002
Abandoned Power Plant, Kennecott Mine, Kennecott, Alaska, 2003
The geometric patterns created by sunlight striking the rooftops of Kennecott's vast but empty power plant recall the glory days of early 20th Century heavy industry. These patterns are also known as rhythmic repetition -- another method I use in organizing my photographs. In this case I use three different forms of rhythm: repeating roof lines carry the eye through the picture from front to back, repeating diagonals create a series of implied dynamic visual thrusts from corner to corner, and finally, a series of vertical smoke stacks marches across the top of the frame in varying sizes. By creating these rhythms within my frame, I tried to evoke the ghost of a great industrial cathedral slowly decaying deep in the mountains of Alaska. Its time ran out when the last copper train left Kennecott in 1938.
07-AUG-2002
Drying Salmon, Mainapilgino, Siberia, Russia, 2002
Mainapilgino is a small Chukchi fishing camp. When I crouched before its racks of drying Salmon, the horizontal poles and vertical fish created horizontal and vertical rhythms reminding me of musical manuscripts. A heavy fog made a perfect backdrop, except for the inevitable wandering tourists. I simply waited for them out to get this picture, which is rhythmic in more ways than one.
25-JUL-2003
Remembering Dmitry, Uglich, Russia, 2003
Uglich on the Volga was the site of one of Russia's most celebrated murders in the 16th Century, when Czar Ivan the Terrible's heir and son Dmitry was killed by Boris Godunuv in an attempt to seize the crown of Russia. On the spot where the murder took place, the city built this beautiful little church. I use still another form of rhythmic repetition to organize this image. The structure features a cluster of bulbous domes. As I approached, I noticed a towering cumulous cloud moving across the sky in the background. I waited until it appeared directly behind the domes of the church and made this image. The Church seems to explode in smoke, almost as if someone was firing a salute to honor the slain son of an ancient Czar.
23-FEB-2000
Thien Mu Pagoda, Hue, Vietnam, 2000
The streets around this historic pagoda were jammed with cars and tourists. I was able to eliminate everyone, save for these two little boys, by walking down a flight of stairs across the street from the pagoda, then turning and shooting back at it from below. From this position, I was also able to frame both the children and the pagoda between the posts guarding the top of the steps. As I shot, I realized that rhythmic repitition was also working in this photograph. A series of horizontal steps lead the eye to the street level, where another series of horizontal rhythms takes over. The vertical posts at the top of the steps, the two children, and the pagoda itself, carry the beat right across the image. A sense of depth is also created as the foreground steps, middleground kids and posts, and background pagoda all work together to turn two dimensions into three.
16-JUL-2002
Kennecott River Valley, McCarthy, Alaska, 2002
From the footbridge across the dried out bed of the Kennecott River, just outside McCarthy, I made this 28mm wideangle image of the sweeping Kennecott Valley. In the far distance at the center of this picture, is the ghost mining town of Kennecott. My objective in making this picture was to offer a sense of Alaska's sweeping grandeur and the remoteness of the distant ghost town. This is a landscape photograph. To make this landscape work, I relate three layers of information to give the viewer a sense of perspective. I used a wideangle lens to stress the dry river bed in the foreground, relating it to the forests and distant mining town in the middle ground, as well as to the mountain range spread beneath the cloud-streaked deep blue sky in the background.
22-FEB-2000
Harbor, Nha Trang, Vietnam, 2000
Standing on the deck of a cruise ship, and using a 200mm telephoto lens, I was able to make this group of boats large enough to fill the foreground of the frame. This shot works because the darker boat -- the one with the figure sitting on its bow -- stands out from the rest. It gives this picture its focal point, and provides a visual anchor in the foreground of this landscape. In the middle ground, the boats get smaller, and the misty hills in the background add context. Once again, three layers of meaning create a sense of perspective.
19-FEB-2000
Road to Angkor Wat, Cambodia, 2000
This ancient temple complex deep in the Cambodian jungle stands at the end of a long causeway. I waited for some Buddhist monks, wearing vividly colored robes, to move into the picture, and used the telephoto end of the zoom lens to foreshorten the distance between them and the temple. To me, these marching monks are the subjects and focal points of this picture, and the great temple of Angkor Wat, its context. Three layers of meaning work together in this image as well -- the colorful monks dominate the foreground, the crowd of tourists walking before them fill the middleground, and the temple of Angkor Wat itself rises under tropical skies in the background.
22-JUL-2002
Sunflower, Anchorage, Alaska, 2002
In Alaska, land of the "Midnight Sun", summer flowers flourish. I found these enormous sunflowers growing around the base of an old log cabin that serves as Anchorage's Vistors Center. Close-up photography is all about detail, but that detail must also be organized for meaning. Depth of focus is always very shallow in closeups, which simplifies the image and emphasizes the point at hand. In this case, it's the delicacy of the tiny detail in the center of the sunflower that makes the point, as well as the vivid contrasts in color, a study in yellow, red, and green.
03-MAY-2003
Colors, Waterlooplein Market, Amsterdam, Holland, 2003
Fabrics of the Far East fill a stall at Waterlooplein Market with contrasting colors and textures. Such contrasts are the very point of this picture. I organize my image around as much contrast in color and texture as possible. I also contrast the size, shape and textures of the pillows on the left to the tablecloths on the right. Color itself can make a strong subject for a picture. But you usually must evoke mood and meaning through strong contrasts to make it work.
15-JUN-2002
Wet Leaves, Ipswich, Massachusetts, 2002
Wet leaves and flat gray skies. It doesn't sound like much of an opportunity for an expressive photograph. But it was. On closer inspection, I realized that these leaves were all on the same bush and came in no less than five different colos and hues: three shades of purple and red, plus two shades of green. Glistening drops of water add surface texture, as well. The flat, shadowless light enriches color saturation. I built this image around three vertical sections of contrasting color -- purple, red, and then purple once again. These contrasts in color, plus the bonus rain drops, and rich saturation, offer a vivid and memorable insight into the ways of mother nature on this wet New England June morning.
19-FEB-2000
Vishnu, Angkor Wat, Cambodia, 2000
I took this shot without flash, using the light from a distant doorway. The bright orange Buddhist robe reflected that light into my camera, while the ancient statue, stained by twelve centuries of incense, fades into the background. This image, too, is organized around contrast in color to express meaning . The brilliant orange robe is a gift from today's worshipers. The ancient, soot blackened statue of Vishnu seems eternal.
10-SEP-2003
Stormy sunset, Santa Fe, New Mexico, 2003
Pictures of sunsets are always pleasing to look at, but they usually require more than just a setting sun to make them function effectively. Using a wideangle converter on my camera, I stack four horizontal bands of contrasting colors within this frame -- all of them combining to convey the beauty and scale of this moment in time. The bottom layer, the earth, features two trees and a mountain. The trees appear tiny, yet immediately draw the eye -- giving this picture a focal point, and suggesting, through contrast, the vast scale of the scene. A distant mountain is also diminished in size, adding additional contrast in scale. I shifted my camera position so that the mountain blocks the sun and keeps the picture from being washed out by direct sunlight. The second layer, a band of golden clouds, brings this picture its most brilliant colors. These colors contrast to the darker hues of the third layer -- a band of falling rain.The top layer frames the scene with a band of dark, feathery clouds, providing a fitting crown to this stormy landscape of the American Southwest.
08-SEP-2003
Photography critic, Santa Fe, New Mexico, 2003
As a participant in a digital travel photography workshop at the Santa Fe Workshops, I was assigned the task of creating an image organized around a strong angle and contrasting primary colors. Walking down Canyon Road, Santa Fe's famed gallery row, I discovered this flowery stairway leading to a landing backed by blue framed windows. As I approached the stairs, this dog appeared at the top, an ideal subject. Using a wideangle converter lens on my digital camera, i moved in as close as I could to the flowers, filling nearly the entire right hand side of the frame with them. I placed the dog in the upper left hand corner of the frame, creating a diagonal flow of subject matter from upper left to lower right. As i begain shooting, the dog tilted his head and lowered his ears, amost as if he was evaluating my efforts, and lending a perfect expression to this photographic challenge.
Crab’s Den, Galapagos Islands, Ecuador, 1978
The rhythmic repetition of the flow of line in both rock and crab, unify this image and make it cohesive. The crab, clad in the shockingly bright primary colors of red and yellow, contrasts vividly to its den of black lava. This shot, organized around the contrast in color and unity in form, is my comment on the remote nature of these isolated islands in the Pacific and its effect on wildlife. Predation here is unknown, and protective coloration is unnecessary. Over the centuries, nature has enabled these colorful crabs to standout from their environment, instead of blending in. And that's the point of my picture.
Approaching the Great Pyramids, Cairo, Egypt, 1984
I wanted to visually express my awe as I approached the most massive and famous tombs in the history of mankind. My wideangle lens creates a layered sense of depth, as well as maximum depth of focus from foreground to background. I used our guide as “foreground layer” as he led us up the long approach toward these wonders of the ancient world. He was just in front of me, but the wideangle perspective makes him seem farther away from me than he really is. The tiny figures in the distance are much smaller than the guide, giving a sense of depth to this picture. The converging parallel lines of the edges of the road lead the eye to the pyramids themselves, the “subject layer” of this picture. A “context layer” features clouds rising from the pyramids, as if they were great plumes of smoke soaring into a deep blue sky. By using a wideangle lens, and maintaining the corrrect proximity to my subjects, I link foreground, middleground and background “layers” to express the legendary mystery of these awesome structures.
Under the Ruins, Macchu Picchu, Peru, 1982
It was important to me to stay overnight at these famed Inca ruins high in the Andes Mountains, so that I could abstract them in the inevitable early morning fog. I used a grazing llama as my focal point, positioning it in the lower right corner of my frame. I noticed that the shape of its rump rhythmically repeated the rounded shape of the mountain topped with ancient ruins. I organized this picture so that the slope of the mountain, as well as the sloping ground upon which this llama stands, lead directly to the llama itself. (Photographers call these "leading lines.") My final objective was to get the llama to turn his head and look back up at the ruins—completing a corner to corner diagonal flow running from the ruins to the llama. Each time I released my shutter, the llama looked up in response to my clicking sounds. Eventually he looked towards the ruins, completing the organization of this image.
Fragments of Memory, New Orleans, Louisiana, 1985
New Orleans cemeteries are haunted places. I was stopped in my tracks by this smashed tombstone, a shattered handclasp, coupled with the poignant “trust” resting next to it. When I looked at these pieces in the frame, the picture was static -- just two fragments, side-by-side . To make these elements work dynamically within the frame, I tilted my camera, creating a diagonal flow drawing the eye from corner to corner. I would never tilt my camera if a horizon were involved – nothing is more disorienting to a viewer. But in this photograph, no horizon is involved. I could tilt the frame without disorientation, creating a powerful diagonal, rather than a static side-by-side relationship, to make this image vibrant. Eighteen years after I made this photograph, I abstracted it in Photoshop by removing all traces of color. This pure black and white version is simpler, cleaner, and without distraction.