15-OCT-2004
A Second Look, Dawn Over Half Dome, Yosemite National Park, California, 2004
Within a matter of only a few minutes, the light show that nature had put on for us in the previous image had changed in color, form and intensity. I made this follow-up image about eight minutes later, just as dawn was about to become day, by changing both my vantage point and the focal length of my lens. I am still photographing light here as my subject matter, but as I moved my camera position, I noticed that I could create a rhythmically repeating relationship between clouds, mountains, trees and leaves that would tie these natural elements more closely together as both form and content. The clouds, including the intensely colored orange mass, seem to flow into the saddle just to the left of Half Dome. The tree line below the saddle echoes that same flow. I moved the camera in order to pull a branch of Oak leaves down from the upper right towards the ball of fire in that saddle. Using a 24mm wideangle lens, I am composing this landscape as a series of “pointers,” leading to Half Dome from both left and the right, as well from as above. There is a sense of depth here from layer to layer – beginning with the leaves, then the trees, then the mountains, and finally those marvelous clouds. Everything leads the eye to the “cauldron of fire” swirling in the saddle of Half Dome. That’s where all the energy in this image comes from. This landscape is about that energy, as expressed by its light, color and form.
14-OCT-2004
Smoky Morning, Yosemite National Park, California, 2004
I made this photograph of a 3,000-foot high cliff below Granite Point on my first morning in the park. There were a number of controlled burns in progress in the area, giving the light a smoky, diffused haze. I took advantage of the haze, and also used underexposure to abstract to scene – suggesting the sheer scale of that great granite cliff, rather than clinically describing it, as so many other photographers preferred to do. I hope to leave more to the viewer’s imagination, using minimal light to maximum effect, and creating a soft dark painterly effect that speaks of age and time. I frame the scene within a brace of overhanging pines to both give a flavor of Yosemite and pull the eye into the image, leading it past the cliff and into the pinkish glow where the slope of the cliff meets a distant hill. Later, I realized that I was unconsciously influenced here by the work of the 19th century scenic artist Albert Bierstadt, who brought a similar theatrical quality of light to his own Yosemite paintings. What do you think of this interpretation? Would you rather see more of the scene and suggest less? Or does my low key, more abstract and subtle approach strike a chord within you. I invite your comments, questions, and criticisms.
14-OCT-2004
Mule Deer, Stoneman Meadow, Yosemite National Park, California, 2004
When I compose a landscape photograph, I prefer, if at all possible, to lead the eye of the viewer through a number of “layers” of light and content – building meaning piece by piece. This is good example of this process. I organize it in three layers – a meadow at the bottom, backed by high trees in the middle and an illuminated surprise at the top. The two mule deer are the subject of the picture, but the meaning goes well beyond just showing two mule deer eating their breakfast. They are abstracted within a band of yellowish autumn grass, perfectly placed well apart from each other, almost as if they are to be bookends for the surprise that awaits us at the top of the frame. The band of dark trees dominating the middle of the picture act as a wall of privacy. It makes it seem as if this meadow is their private preserve. And then light as subject matter makes its entrance as the eye climbs up to still another wall, this one made of rock and covered with glowing yellow and orange autumn trees, which tells us just how enormous this scene must be, as well as what time of year it is. This image, so rich in scale incongruity, is all about nature, nourishment, and a very special time of year.
15-OCT-2004
Layers of Light, Stoneman Meadow, Yosemite National Park, California, 2004
Not far from busy Yosemite Village, the heart of Yosemite’s service area for tourism is this broad silent meadow with a river running through it and old trees lining it edges. Shooting before breakfast, I was able to build this image out of the dappled angled sunlight warmly filtering through these old trees. What really caught my eye was how many ways the light speaks in this picture. I can put layers of light to work for me by moving back on to the edge of the meadow to make space for the foreground – my initial layer, which is filled with soft shadows and green and gold grass. These shadows draw eye back into to the second layer -- the beautifully backlit tree that provides the focal point of the image. This back lighting makes its leaves translucent and emphasizes a double diagonal of bare branches that frames the subject tree. The Yosemite controlled burn fires give add a third layer to the image, an area of smoky light. A careful eye will spot “God’s Rays” shining on the background to the right of the subject tree. It adds space and air and infinite depth this photograph. Taken together, these layers speak of the cycles of nature, of the light that brings life to all things, and of this very special place called Yosemite.
15-OCT-2004
The Old Red Barn, Foresta, Yosemite National Park, California, 2004
In this photograph, I am not photographing the light itself as much as I expressing the effect of light on my subjects. I anchor this photograph with the shadows, colors and textures produced by the autumnal morning light in the foreground, which takes up three quarters of the image. The low light comes at the subject from the side and from a low angle, creating a textured blanket of dried golden brown grass that leads the eye out to the red barn itself. By using a 24mm wideangle lens, I add additional sweep to this field of textured grass by taking advantage of that lenses natural barrel distortion, which bends the horizon into a subtle arc echoing the arc of the hill in the background. The subject of this image is, of course, the old red barn. I place it in the upper right hand corner of the frame so it can draw the eye of the viewer all the way through that golden grass. I selected a vantage point that would bring the light from right to left, defining the geometry of the barn itself and given it a sense of dimension. Its rich deep red siding echoes the reds in the grass and creates the focal point of the image, while the black shadow that fills the left hand side of the barn provides an extension of the soft shadows that move across the grass below it. To me, this light creates tones, textures, shadows and colors that speak of timelessness, illuminating a place where nature seems to have produced a continuing cycle of crops for as long as we can remember.
15-OCT-2004
Autumn on the Merced, Yosemite National Park, California, 2004
The Yosemite Valley is one of the world’s best-known examples of a glacier carved canyon. Its sheer granite walls and flat floor evolved as alpine glaciers moved through the canyon of the Merced River. Today, the Merced still winds its way through the Valley. I use strong contrast in light here to express the change of seasons here by exposing for the leaves and allowing the water to become an abstraction that fills almost half the frame. This creates a negative space area equivalent to a giant arrowhead, pointing to the left at the spot where two diagonals converge. The lower diagonal is made up of the yellowing leaves of autumn, while summer still lingers on the bushes that line the rocks that form the upper diagonal. A faint echo of yellowing autumn leaves can also be seen in the reflection that moves along the river beneath the rocks at the top. Also notice how the light falls on the glacial rock that emerges from the river. It forms a small arrowhead, pointing to that same spot of convergence. When we are photographing a landscape, we must force ourselves to see the forms and shapes produced by contrasting light, and how they effect both composition and meaning.
15-OCT-2004
Merced Reflection, Yosemite National Park, California, 2004
Another view of Yosemite appears within the Merced itself. Ancient rocks from the glacial period still cover its bed, and the towering granite cliffs that line its sides reflect upon its surface. When we work with reflections, we are essentially photographing the effect of light and shadow on the surface of the water. In this case, I chose a surface that was already filled with rocks. I wanted to incongruously merge them with rocks of a much different color, size, and texture. It took many shots and many camera positions to find a place where the sky, the cliffs and the river rocks could merge successfully. I also had to find a spot where the river rocks themselves were in indirect light. If they had been in the sun, the effect would have been chaotic. The angle of the light falling on the rocks had to give dimension and shape to them as well. I have tried to produce a mini-landscape here that expresses the origin and nature of both the Merced River and the enormous cliffs that flank it.
15-OCT-2004
Forming a Rainbow, Bridalveil Fall, Yosemite National Park, California, 2004
In autumn, most of Yosemite’s famous waterfalls are just not falling. There’s not enough water at that time of year to feed them. Which is unfortunate for landscape photographers, because falling water always bring the potential for striking and often meaningful images. When we had passed Bridalveil Fall a day earlier, it appeared to be dry. Yet when we returned the next day, it was not only flowing with water, but more importantly, it was actually in the process of forming a rainbow near its base. Bridalveil can make a rainbow very briefly and only once every 24 hours, when light hits the falling water at a perfect angle. I zoomed in with a 432mm telephoto lens to stress just that part of the fall where the rainbow seemed to be forming. (I took many shots, as most photographers do, of the entire waterfall as it threaded down the side of a huge cliff, but that distant vantage point reduced the size of the potential rainbow to inconsequential size.) When I returned from my shoot and brought the images up on my laptop screen, I saw for the first time what I had accomplished. I had photographed a tapestry of light and color (that’s what a rainbow is, right?) capturing the essence of this phenomenon, and also stimulating the imagination of the viewer. The water appears (appropriately enough) as a translucent veil, a gossamer sheet of purple green, gold and red descending between a diagonal flow of green trees and deep reddish brown rocks. A flare of light strikes the veil at the upper right, as if to signal that a magical event is about to take place. There are even diagonal areas of black coming out of each of the lower corners, giving coherence to the entire image. And yes, this really is a landscape, because it captures an aspect of nature at work on the land.
16-OCT-2004
Giant Sequoias, Mariposa Grove, Yosemite National Park, California, 2004
About 35 miles south of Yosemite Village stands Yosemite’s largest grove of Redwoods. They are the largest of all living things, and many have endured for thousands of years. As I passed through this deeply shaded forest of giant trees, l looked for shafts of light filtering down into the forest that would help me to both abstract them and define their character within a landscape photograph. I found this pair of stately redwoods standing side by side, each with strong light grazing the bases of their huge trunks. Moving in to stress the way this light brought out the textures of their distinctive richly colored bark, I noticed that next to each of them was a small set of green branches, symbolizing a pair of relatively youthful neighbors. I used a vertical frame to imply height, and kept moving my position until each of the smaller trees displayed only the ends of their brightly illuminated branches against a deeply shadowed background. I wanted to express a sense of community with this image, and by using the abstracting power of light and shadow and drawing on the beauty and meaning of color, I was able to so.
15-OCT-2004
Colors of the Merced, Yosemite National Park, California, 2004
Leaves of all colors line the autumnal banks of Yosemite’s Merced River as fall takes over from summer. I used a 432mm telephoto lens to shoot across the river itself into a sun-splashed forest glade dominated by a small but brilliantly illuminated tree, wearing its new autumn colors. Three tall trees seem to stand guard behind it, casting protective shadows across the face of it as well as on the ground in front of it. With the help of the spot-meter in my camera (my single most important tool for landscape photography) I was able to expose this picture for this tiny illuminated area, and put everything else into relative darkness. The result is a landscape photograph that uses light to tell its story of the changing season and neighborly protection.
15-OCT-2004
El Capitan Fantasy, Yosemite National Park, California, 2004
I found a smooth portion of the Merced River that reflected the granite face of Yosemite’s famous El Capitan almost perfectly. I waited for a figure on the opposite bank to walk into my frame and shot this image of its reflection to add scale incongruity. I then turned the reflection upside down to make El Capitan, along with its tiny tourist, appear right side up. The key to this picture was the intensity and color of the light falling on sheer face of El Capitan itself. By exposing on the reflection of that light as it hit the surface of the river, I was able to make everything else very dark, which greatly simplified what otherwise would have been a very cluttered image. I created this strange looking landscape to represent the fantasy aspect of Yosemite that lingers in the imagination of most of its visitors. They may see it for what it really is, but they also steadfastly retain an idealized version of Yosemite in their own minds, which is what this image represents.
15-OCT-2004
Morning Pines, Yosemite National Park, California, 2004
Morning light at Yosemite is enchanting, making ordinary subjects such as this stand of pines into memorable visions. I used a long lens to throw the golden meadow behind these pines into soft focus, and bring a warm and rich feeling to this natural scene. Compared to many of my other landscapes, this one is quite intimate. Yet we don’t measure the effect of a landscape photograph by the amount of real estate it covers. We can only evaluate the effect it has on the imagination of you, the viewer. When you look at this image, what does it say to you? What feelings does it trigger? What do you think of it? I would be delighted to know.