Zoo Day!

Okay, enough theory about photography.  Sometimes it's just fun to get out with the camera and family.  

Not that long ago my wife, Ann, and I took our daughter, Callah, to the zoo.  We had never been to the zoo during the winter before so it was kind of like an adventure.  To our surprise not many people were there on that particular day and it turned out to be a lot of fun!

Not only did Callah enjoy free reign of the empty buildings but the animals were quite active as well.  And without crowds of people around, it was a lot easier to get positioned for a few photos of the zoo's inhabitants.  

The zoo can be a great place to work on composition and subject placement within the frame.  Unlike the wild, at the zoo you don't have to pan very far to include unwanted fences, gates or other elements that may detract from the overall photo.  

But most of all, it was just nice spending time with my wife and daughter.  

Architecture is not about Building, Photography is not about Pictures

Yes, buildings and pictures may be the end result, but we must ask ourselves to what purpose are we doing what we do?  For me, this is about the place of beginning, the place from which to start.

When I was in school I wrote that "at its very essence, architecture is not just about building; rather architecture is an intimacy developed through a multi-sensory experience of place. It provides a structured narrative and projects meaning; it engages and envelopes the body and provides a collective significance."

And I think the same holds true for photography.  I believe that it is important for photographers to understand their work beyond the inherent ocularcentric nature of the finished media.  An image should project a motive and evoke feeling and emotion; perhaps most importantly it must possess the ability to transport us to a particular setting, a destination.  

I consider the narrative of my yet to be taken photo as my starting point, taking its form as I conceptualize it in my head.  It isn't so much about what I want it to look like, but how I want it to be felt.  I think that's important. 

The image above is a remnant of the Berlin Wall taken in 2000 when I was working in the city.  I wanted to capture a slice of a larger story, one that provoked the thought of a single person caught in a moment of time standing on the wrong side of the wall.  They run their hand over the roughly textured concrete contemplating what life must be like on the other side.

It may not be the best photo, or even the most refined story, but with each new click of the shutter growth occurs.  Ultimately, I hope this helps separate my work from others; at least It's a start...  

To Begin Anew

So let me begin by saying that I am not a professional photographer, yet anyway.  But I'm not really sure I would ever consider myself a professional at anything; what exactly does 'professional' mean and what does it entail?  I think I could ask 50 different people and get at least 30 different answers.  

I am, however, a licensed and practicing architect (I may take exception to being labeled a professional though) that has enjoyed the discipline of design ever since I was in second grade. You're probably wondering then what this has to do with photography?

Well it's not like I just picked up a camera yesterday and decided to call myself a photographer.  As long as I can remember I've been enamored with photographs that exude a sense of place and being.  I got my first film slr camera when I started college and thanks to my classmates with more experience than I, I was shown the sanctity of the dark room.  I learned many things just by simply doing, making more mistakes along the way than successes.  But I never minded that process, never looked for short cuts and never really cared what others might think of my work.  It was my own and I owned it.  

Unfortunately, after graduating college and starting the arduous task of architectural licensing I slipped farther and farther away from that unfettered approach.  Everything became about accruing intern hours doing this and that and then accumulating enough correct answers on one exam to continue on to the next.  In fact, my film camera never saw much use after college.  And it was all in the quest to become a professional.  

In fact, sometime during the past ten years the film body developed a crack and I never got around to replacing the camera until right before my daughter was born, about 18 months ago.  It was my intention to use it to document her life, but watching her develop day after day with an unending supply of energy and a limitless desire to touch, lick and conquer everything around her I realized that she was showing me what I had been forgetting to do for so many years.  

So this is me, picking up that camera once again.  I'm not certain where this will take me, but I'm sure looking forward to the journey...