29-JAN-2005
Waiting for Dolphins, Laos/Cambodian Border, 2005
Riding in tiny dugout canoes, we cruised the Mekong at the border, looking for signs of the elusive Irrawaddy Dolphin. We saw only a few fins, at a great distance. Not much of a photo opportunity. Yet the excursion did produce an image rich in color, which expressed the spirit and customs of the people in this remote corner of Southeast Asia. The small dugouts were decorated with hand-painted bows such as this one, painted in bizarre combinations of red, blue, orange and pink, with a touch of deep green for good luck. We may have returned from our Dolphin search empty handed, but an unknown Lao boat painter did leave us with this colorful, and lucky, reward.
Golden Thoughts at Maha Muni Pagoda, Mandalay, Myanmar, 2005
A woman walks through one of the courtyards within Mandalay's splendid Maha Muni Pagoda at sunset. As she stepped into the golden light, I couldn't help but wonder what she might have been thinking at that moment. I was fascinated at how the brilliant red tiles were transformed into golden pools when reflected within the paving of the plaza. I photographed person after person walking across this spot, until this woman gave meaning to those colors by folding her arms in thought and then walked, one foot before the other, into the gold.
23-NOV-2004
After the Snow, Santa Fe, New Mexico, 2004
These mailboxes, framed in the contrasting residue of two seasons -- fall leaves and winter snow -- are not just vividly painted in red and blue primary colors by their owners. They also incongruously seem to symbolize everything that colorful Santa Fe is, and the authoritarian US Postal Service is not. These are the boxes of expressive souls who boldly mock the words barely visible beneath the layers of frivolous paint: “Approved –Postmaster General.” The colors not only demand our eyes. They reach out to tell us who lives here, and how they live their lives
17-OCT-2004
Colors of Dawn, near Conway Summit, California, 2004
Daybreak in the Eastern Sierras brings light and color to desert texture that is simultaneously mysterious and beautiful. The colors change very quickly. As the sun rises and the cloud cover shifts, the sagebrush glows in pink, red, brown, and green tones, while the snow capped Sierras are tinged in amber. For a few moments, the desert floor appeared as a reddish brown sea of sage, leading our eye to richly colored hills of the same color, and that is the instant of color I’ve preserved here. Red is the most powerful of all colors, and when it appears in such scale in nature, it can be breathtaking. The snows of the Sierra Nevada Mountains add context to give this image its identity as high desert.
18-OCT-2004
Silent Cannon, Bridgeport, California, 2004
This 19th century artillery piece has always stood before the doors of Bridgeport’s Mono County Courthouse. Perhaps it might have once proved useful for keeping order in this rough and ready place. But it has never, ever fired a round. I contrast its weathered gray wood, and brown metal rim and barrel, to the brilliant red wall behind it to make the canon seem ready to roar to life. Red is our most energetic color. If any color can wake up the thunder of this ancient artillery, red should do the trick. Hold your ears!
18-OCT-2004
Fall Colors, near Conway Summit, California, 2004
Photographing autumn landscape colors at their best is a matter of timing. For these trees at 8000 feet above sea level, mid-October proved just about perfect. This image is not as about color itself as it is about subtle and not so subtle variations in color. The image begins at the bottom with shades of soft lavender and brownish green. Across the middle of the image there’s a transitional zone where green, yellow, and the slender trunks of Aspen trees all come together and then explode into a rich outpouring of deep yellow tinged with orange. Yet the eye goes to the variation that is most pronounced – the five or six large evergreen trees that proclaim their individuality but stubbornly refusing to change color. The tone and intensity of color usually depends on the nature of the light that strikes it. In this case, the light was flat – the day had turned cloudy and snow was moving in. To compensate for flat light on a color subject, I depend on rich color saturation here to pick up the slack. I enhanced this image in Photoshop to re-create the same sense of depth, richness, and contrast of coloration I saw with my own eyes.
01-SEP-2004
Architecture as Art, Bilbao, Spain, 2004
A new building adjacent to Bilbao's Guggenheim Museum becomes a metallic rainbow as light softly plays across its facade. I waited for these two people and their dog to reach that spot before shooting. They give the picture its sense of scale. I also cropped the building to fill my frame with soft, pastel color. This creates an incongruity – the image is now a sea of color without limits. Yet the meaning of this picture to me rests in the softness of the color and the implications of its pattern. The silvered reflectors covering the wall of this building process the flow of light and color to create that meaning. The angle of the sun, or the passage of a cloud, can and does change everything. I was shooting on an overcast day, which made the colors as muted and soft, as the diffused light itself. The wall seems to shimmer in its flow of steps, rising from the people towards the sky. These people will soon be gone. And so will this particular pattern of color and light. The artist who created this concept seems to be expressing transience to me. Nothing is permanent. Soft colors are more likely to vanish than strong ones. A pattern that rises seems to be on the verge of disappearance. That is what I wanted my picture to say. Without these soft colors, that idea would never play. How do you feel about this image, my reasoning, and my execution? Let me know with your comments, questions and suggestions. I will respond, and we can use this image as a basis for a discussion on the meaning of color in photography. Thanks for your help.
26-AUG-2004
An Irish Tragedy, Cobh, Ireland, 2004
Cobh was the last port the ill-fated Titanic would ever see. In this yellow building, now home to a bistro, passengers checked in and then walked out the back door to a pier, where they boarded a tender which took them to the Titanic anchored off shore. For many of them, this place was the last land they would ever walk upon. This image would make little sense to anyone without the context I have just provided. It would just be a picture of an Irish pub capitalizing on the name of a doomed ship. Yet with such context, this image that carries profound implications. In 1912 this building was the Cobh (then known as Queenstown) office of White Star Lines. It might have been preserved as memorial museum, but instead has become a place of revelry. Its present owners have painted the building bright yellow, a primary color often associated with beauty, lightheartedness and pleasure, no doubt to attract more patrons. Brightly colored flowers are placed along its walls and over its door. Colors can be seen as symbols, and here we have a symbolic incongruity. Bright, flamboyant colors are used to mask a building with a grim past, one that trades on tragedy. I stress the incongruous sign out front as well. For days after the tragedy, newsboys, looking very much like this one, hawked papers on the streets of London and New York. Their papers told of massive deaths. Today, this “newspaper boy” tell us the Titanic has become a bistro.
30-AUG-2004
Rose Window, St. Vincent’s Cathedral, St. Malo, France, 2004
When I entered this cathedral at mid-day, I knew I had come at exactly the right moment. Light streaming through its great Rose Window was painting all the colors of the rainbow on the walls and floors of the cathedral. Using a low vantage point with a 24mm wideangle converter lens on my Canon G5, I moved in as close as I could to these columns to make them seem as large as possible, yet still include the Rose Window as context. The unexpected colors suggest not only beauty, but also festivity – they have turned a building of gray granite into an incongruous mosaic of reds, blues, greens, and yellows. It is as if a child has splashed the interior of the cathedral in watercolors. Almost more playful than spiritual, these colors bring an ancient building to life in a memorable way.
16-JUN-2004
Ceiling, Forbidden City, Beijing, China, 2004
Beijing's Forbidden City has nearly 9,000 rooms, which housed 10,000 people. Some are embellished with lavishly painted ceilings such as this one. This picture depends entirely upon color for meaning. The colors are muted, far from the brilliant blues, reds, and yellows photographers hunger for. Yet they are still exquisite. Gold, brown, pale blue – the palette of the 15th Century. They are arrayed upon a complex network of interlocking beams and posts that have held the building firmly in place since the Ming Dynasty. These colors, as much as anything else, have captured the flavor of that time for me.
23-JUN-2004
Catnap in a funeral shop, outside Xian, China, 2004
A broken box provides a bed for this cat in a store making funeral accessories just outside Xian. Chinese funerals are built around cremations, and paper items of all kinds, including these colorful blossoms, go out in a blaze of glory along with the deceased. The bright colors contrast strongly to each other as well as to the neutral brownish colors of the cat and floor in this photograph. They seem to be awake while the cat slumbers.
14-JUN-2004
Confucian Construction, Shanghai, China, 2004
Shanghai's 19th Century Confucian Temple is being restored to its original condition. A blue tarp and bamboo scaffold make a temporary backdrop for the shrine's cherished statue of Confucius. I was attracted to the scene by the blue tarp – while scuffed and soiled, it is still cool and serene, and an ideal counter-color to the drab gray statue and the neutral scaffolding. I often look for strong contrasts in color to intensify a subject and help express meaning. I’ve found it here.