Discovering the Extraordinary                     Within the Ordinary

A fellow photographer friend, Ed Johnson, took this photo during an iron man competition this past weekend. Not often do you see a tandem bike in such a competition, but leave it to Ed to find the unusual. Even his approach to shooting the competition was unusual. Most of us seek to photograph the spirited competition among the leaders within the event. Ed's strategy for photographing the competition was to concentrate on the contestants who were staging at the middle and proceeding toward the rear. His strategy makes sense if you believe that we sometimes bring or assign a story to our photos by the way we capture them.

Ed's curiosity concerning the tandem bike entry into the iron man prompted him to share this photo with a regional newspaper. From this news contact, he learned that the athlete in the rear seat is blind. He is supplying the power to the pedals while his friend steers the bike. During the river swim portion and throughout the run, he was tethered to his friend. In total, this pair covered more than seventy-one miles this day. They didn't win any trophies, but they finished the competition. This photo was possible because Ed made a conscious decision to photograph those who wouldn't be photographed and cheered at the finish line. It was his way to shine a light on those who compete but never find the public spotlight.  

This ordinary photo holds value for its extraordinary story from at least two perspectives. From the perspective of the blind athlete, he entered this contest knowing he would not win any trophy, but he would gain great satisfaction from finishing. What kind of courage does it take to enter a contest knowing that winning is not likely, participation is demanding, but standing on the sidelines is not an option?

From the friend's perspective, he had the advantage of sight. He, too, had to be an elite athlete to do an ironman event. In fact, he had to be at least as good and likely a better athlete than his friend. His participation as a friend was an act of pure selflessness—a rare commodity these days.   

Some of the photos we take are not stellar by photographic standards, but they hold extraordinary worth because they help us learn a beautiful story. Sometimes that story comes serendipitously, as if it had a plan of its own for us to follow. I have said many times that the people we meet through photography are one of the greatest joys of the hobby, and the stories we learn from them motivates us to see life through the viewfinder more clearly and to embrace our photography with greater passion.

Life is a journey, not a competition.

 Simon and Garfunkel are wrong!

"Everything looks worse in black and white." Not so! Black and white has a simple charm that color cannot convey. Some photographers claim black-and-white photos convey mystery. For me, the mystery of black and white photography is how black and white seems so simple and conveys such complex thoughts and emotions in a way that would get absorbed by color. Black and white has a way of stripping away all the clutter to bring the eye directly to what is important for the viewer. 

I have taken two black and white photos this week that are two distinct products.  For this vintage car, I chose to create a high-contrast image because of its age and also because it has been restored to a like-new finish with a few modern touches.  The actual color of the car was a deep green, which would have competed with other greens in the rather simple background. 

The other photo displays an empty farmhouse that was surrounded by old, dying trees with broken limbs. The darker trees framed the farmhouse, leading the viewer's eyes to the abandoned two-story home. This photo was all about the different textures in the trees and the battered siding on the house, making this photo less contrasty in selected areas and more prickly in others. The softer gray tones on the farmhouse bring the feeling of abandonment and a haunting message.

Many of us would agree with this quote attributed to Walt Whitman about the feel of black-and-white photos. 

"What I like about black-and-white photographs is that they're more like reading the book than seeing the movie."

 

Graduation Traditions & Transitions 

American Graffiti is one of my favorite movies because it captured the feeling of standing on a precipice filled with excitement while facing great uncertainty. Whenever I attend a graduation ceremony, that feeling is rekindled as I watch the students parade in, cross the stage, and parade outdoors once more. Graduation is an act of looking backward and looking forward simultaneously.

I delayed writing this blog due to a storm of sports team finals and a sequence of end-of-the-school-year activities, including two graduations. Over the past two weekends, I have attended high school graduation ceremonies for two of my grandkids. Both of them are graduating from larger high schools, necessitating travel to larger public arenas that could accommodate the crowds. After watching both ceremonies, I have three thoughts I would like to share. One thought spotlights the graduates' expressions at those moments that they were awarded their diplomas. My second thought concerns the content of speeches delivered at the ceremony, and the final thought is about the relevance of traditional graduation ceremonies.

As a photographer, I tend to study the range of students' expressions at graduation. Watching them walk across the stage prompted me to recall some of that emotion, which I experienced many years ago. The majority of students were sufficiently humbled as their full middle name was blasted out over the PA system, causing them to seek no further notoriety and meekly accept their diploma as a final act of compliance with high school rules. Unfortunately for some students, high school was a living social hell and their graduation was viewed as an escape portal -- slip away unnoticed and hope emotional healing may follow.  Others felt the moment more keenly and expressed it in a variety of ways. Upon receiving their diploma, some students made the sign of the cross, perhaps in an act of gratitude for divine intervention in their completion of high school. Free at last! Other students danced a quick jig or pumped their diplomas in the air as an act of spontaneous joy, while others descended the stage to hug a favorite teacher lining the rows. Of course, there is always that one "special" student who seizes his moment in front of an audience. Evidently the pressure of the moment was too great when a young man confused his high school graduation with Seinfeld's Festivus celebration by displaying a feat of strength. I admired his agility when he performed a flawless back flip in his cap and gown immediately after exiting the stage.

Graduation ceremonies would not be complete without the speeches. The most traditional speeches are delivered by the valedictorian and the salutatorian, the most academically gifted students. Their speeches thank teachers and parents who helped them excel in their studies, and they also attempt to highlight some universal truth or extol the ethic of diligent work or self-reliance. It's only natural that their speech follows that pattern since these good habits and values have served them well during their high school years. It's the "what comes next" and knowing what to do when no one provides them with next week's assignment that is problematic. This is not a criticism, but it is an observation revealing that these stellar scholars are equally unseasoned in life as their lesser-achieving classmates. If you are fortunate, the graduation ceremony will feature student speeches and performances rather than the dry, obligatory speeches by the adults who use the stage to highlight their esteemed positions. Those adults often forget that graduation ceremonies are about student transitions, celebrating their endings and fresh beginnings. 

My final thought concerning graduation is an invitation to consider with me a need for an alternative graduation that may be offered as an option against the traditional ceremony. For some, the concept of a traditional graduation ceremony remains a meaningful way to celebrate the transition between high school and life as a fully independent adult. However, would it be reasonable to offer two graduation ceremonies among which students would have the opportunity to choose? The traditional graduation ceremony, as currently practiced, should be an option if for no other reason than its traditions run deep in families and communities. There are many valid reasons to commend it. However, our culture and lives have changed, as have the students graduating from our high schools. What would happen if our students (soon to be fellow adult community members and neighbors) were offered a greater voice in the conduct of their graduation ceremonies? Recognizing that schools have obligations to civil law and responsibilities to their own community, is it possible that a steering committee composed of students, interested faculty members, and even a respected community member design an alternative graduation ceremony? I would hope that the student voices would be heard and that they would be considered equal partners in this design.

While graduation traditions may bind us together, they can also feel as confining as a prison cell. What may a graduation alternative ceremony look like?  

The valedictorian and salutatorian still may lay claim to their roles within the traditional ceremony. Their scholarship is worthy of recognition. The alternative graduation may elect to feature respected fellow classmates who exhibited good character and acceptable academic performance. Those students selected for speaking roles may not be those students who excelled at answering questions posed in the classroom or on exams. The students selected to speak at the ceremony may be those students who were good at asking questions and being open to others. They may be skilled at overcoming their mistakes and embarrassments and can inspire their classmates to find courage when facing difficult tasks at school or outside of school issues. Students may wish to substitute Pomp and Circumstance with music more meaningful to them but still pertinent to graduation themes. Instead of a speaker, students may produce a video that was developed to chronicle their high school experience and share what they have learned collectively about themselves and through working together. As for the caps and gowns, they may be retained as a nod to tradition, but if they were omitted, would it be a great loss? (I have yet to find a suitable occasion to wear my cape and sober black mortarboard cap). High school is very real, as is routine everyday adult life. Can we make a more compelling story for our students and community about that transition?

A tradition without intelligence is not worth having." – T.S. Eliot 

Disclaimer: I just returned from my grandchild's eighth grade graduation. Nothing discussed above should ever apply to middle school students who experience each day as a variety show!

 No Longer Saving Soles

For the past ten days I have been searching my digital archives for the original copies of these photos.  I have been unsuccessful in locating the hard drive that contains them, so I had to download smaller copies from my Flickr site.

When you look closely at these photos you will note they have some uncorrected barrell distortion which doesn't bother me much.  I chose to shoot the interior with an 11-16mm zoom because the shop was narrow and deep.   This zoom has been useful in architectural photos and landscape photography.  I like the way it stretches the edges of the sky making them look dramatic.  The lens is a good response for tight places where choosing a different location is difficult.

I am fond of the top photo for a number of reasons.  It holds a special memory reaching back to my youth.  As a young adult, I had my shoes re-soled here making them look magically new again and avoiding the discomfort of breaking in new shoes.  The smell of leather dyes, polish, and freshly cut leather perfumed the interior upon entry.  The shop was family owned for decades and finally closed its doors due to a culture that values disposal over renewal.

Another reason this photo resonates with me is its warm tones which give it a feeling of intimacy as one feels when returning to a familiar place.  The stained and cracked walls added authenticity. The shoe stitching machines were somewhat vintage when the shop opened, but they continue to suggest a manufacturing industry that once drove this community for decades and still remains part of the community's character.

In the days leading to the closing, I asked the owner about the sign that hung above the buffers for all those years.  He said that it was a gift from a local convent from the nuns for generous service.  It seemed  a perfect sentiment from the givers and served as a poetic mission statement for the owners. 

 

Future Photographer

taken with an Olympus OMD em5 and a 24mm Nikon ais lens

I called this photo "Little Shooter" for obvious reasons. What attracted me was the pose the child was striking to use a cell phone to grab a shot of a little league game. She has probably witnessed the adults in her life taking photos of her or other children from this lower eye-level position. The fact that her photo will be of the peeling painted backboards is inconsequential. In this moment she is strictly enjoying the act of taking a photograph.  

Enjoying the experience of taking photos is the better half of photography. Taking the photo you want is a motivator, but the simple act of taking a photo is pleasurable at some level of our being. We all feel good when the shutter goes "click" and we hold possibilities and memories in our hands.

As I took this photo, I thought how frightening this photo may appear to the various camera manufacturers. The child is using a cell phone, mimicking the way that most adults take their photos these days. An adult in her life has given her their cell phone to take this photo, and she will subconsciously remember this moment not holding a Kodak, Nikon, Sony, or other major camera manufacturer's product. Oh, the things we pass on to our children/grandchildren--  a serious thought!

 

 Friday Morning Photo Walk

Each Friday, I meet with friends who are fellow photographers at a downtown coffee shop. Normally we discuss a variety of subjects ranging from photography and photo gear to local events, family, and the price of coffee. In other words, mainly old fart stuff. During the previous week we decided to take a short fifteen-minute photo walk prior to coffee. Our walk was limited to just the area around the cafe, and we were free to choose whatever subject caught our attention. We placed a limit of three images for each of us. Part of the exercise was to become selective in what was photographed and enjoy time photographing with a partner. This was not a competition; rather, it was a search for what we would take to "show and tell" time next Friday. I will be interested to see what compositions each of us found worthy of our attention since this is the first time we have ever done such a photo walk.  

While I enjoyed the experience, I was disappointed to learn that I have developed some sloppy habits that have crept into my photography. One of them is how lazy I have become in composing a photo by not using my feet. Shooting with a prime lens this morning instead of my regular zoom lens made me remember how important it is to move when framing your subject to utilize the best light and best lines. My first photo was of an architectural feature where a tile design was incorporated into the brick exterior of a building. After looking at my photo, I discovered that I should have selected a different section of tile to find a place where the mortar was intact. My second mistake was to take this shot with a 90mm lens that would need a different angle to create perspective or to photograph it at an exactly 90-degree angle to make the mortar lines appear spaced evenly. 

The second photo was of a bust inside the window of a cosmetology school. The bust was resting atop some textbooks and was wearing a dark wig that was partially in curlers. I chose to photograph it mainly because it was weird, without thinking about what message I wanted to share with the viewer. I failed to adjust my exposure correctly to account for the dark background window reflections of the parking lot. Those dark background reflections failed to provide any separation from the dark wig, giving the appearance that the cosmetology students performed a lobotomy instead of the traditional perm. 

The photo that appears in this week's blog is my winner by default. I like it because it displays a rainbow of spring colors that are not overpowered by the reflections from the street. The walk experience is worth repeating for instructive purposes. This short walk around showed me how easy it is to allow bad habits to spoil the opportunity to create an interesting photo, although it was fun to shoot with others since most of the photos that I take are when I am alone.  

Together Again

I'm sharing two photos that I took this week with my first digital camera. That camera was a Fuji FinePix V10 that was introduced in 2006. It boasted a 5MP sensor and a large 3-inch display screen. Reviewers called it quirky but praised it for its high ISO performance. My motivation for purchasing it was that it was priced $300 cheaper than the Nikon entry-level DSLR. Price was a critical element in my decision to move from film to digital. My concern, at the time, was how I would embrace digital after shooting film all those years. The feel of my sturdy metal Nikon FM did not engender confidence as I held the plastics found in the new entry-level digital DSLRs. Would digital stay, or would it go the way of New Coke?

I charged the battery, and the 20-year-old Fuji lit up once again like familiar old face -- together again.  I took it to morning coffee to show a friend what digital looked like in its genesis. While there, I took the photo below. The metal chair backs at the coffee shop had cutouts of coffee cups. Their design piqued my interest, prompting me to photograph one and enhance the cutout portions by applying a dual warming filter to add some vibrancy. The result struck me as looking like a logo for the place. That quirkiness the reviewers expressed in their reviews perhaps referred to the buyers of this camera. 

While driving home, I encountered the dogwalkers walking down a rural road near my home. I was impressed by the number of dogs present and how each walker successfully controlled the eight dogs they were walking that day. They were spread out across the narrow country road and no tangled leashes were noted. Since the little Fugi was in the console of the car, I called upon it to capture a scene as it did some twenty years ago. When I got home and reviewed the photo, I noticed that there were four walkers. The fourth walker is hidden behind the middle walker, bringing the total number of dogs to thirty-two. I was also impressed with how the dog's eyes were fixed on me. I wish it were that simple to photograph groups of humans in the same way. 

My title for this week's blog emerged from the deep "hillbilly" recesses of my subconscious, bringing to mind the old Buck Owens country classic "Together Again." 

The love I once knew
Is living again
And nothing else matters
We're together again