It is a rare and special thing to be able to view large collection of a wonderful photographer’s best work. We visited Charlie Cramer’s show at the Center for Photographic Arts again yesterday while visiting Carmel. If you can get to Carmel to see the show, I don’t think you will be disappointed! The show is in it’s last week, so go now…
Category Archives: Photographers
Evening Light, Upper Young Lake
Evening Light, Upper Young Lake. Yosemite National Park, California. September 14, 2010. © Copyright G Dan Mitchell – all rights reserved.
Early evening light on a tree-covered rocky peninsula at Upper Young Lake, Yosemite National Park, California.
I’ve visited these lakes almost annually for a number of years, since I first visited one autumn on a long day hike from the Tuolumne Meadows area. Many people visit the lower lake on day hikes, quite a few others backpack to the area and visit all three, and climbers on their way to Mount Conness also pass through the area. My plan was to stay several days so that I could do a lot of photography in the area. The upper lake provides a beautiful sub-alpine scene, surrounded by relatively level meadows with small hills interspersed with rocky rises and groves of trees. Because the area is open to the west there can be stunning evening light here… and that I precisely why I went to the lake on this evening.
I was camped at the lower lake, where I had photographed in the morning. After I finished up my morning photography I spent a good part of the late morning and early afternoon eating a post-shoot late breakfast, more or less hanging out, reading, doing a few camp chores, and finally having a very early dinner at about 3:00 – the plan is to eat the big meal of the day early, go off and do photography as the evening light approaches, and then return to camp after dark and have something to eat before climbing into the sleeping bag.
The route that I prefer to use to get to the upper lake is not really exactly a trail. Anticipating that I’d be returning from the upper lake via this route in near or actual darkness, as I climbed it I made sure to remember a series of landmarks that I could use to find my way back. At various junctures on the route – as I would do on any similar route – I stopped to look backwards and fix in my mind certain obvious route cues that I could follow on the way back: stay above the thicker trees, stay in the middle of the bench, cross the low rise while heading straight toward a certain distant ridge, begin the descent at the two groves of trees next to the lake, and so on. I was so focused on this that when I reached my final landmark at the upper lake I barely looked around – I arrived at the final grove and immediately turned right to walk the short distance to the lakeshore and look for compositions. At about this point I recalled that I also had planned to check out camping possibilities for a future visit, so I looked back up at the grove I had just left.
I saw a tent and two people and tripods – all of which I had completely overlooked at first, so fixated was I on my “route.” I walked back up to say “hi” when I noticed that one of the two photographers looked quite familiar. I approached and said, “You bear a striking resemblance to John Sexton” – which made a lot of sense in that he was John Sexton. (If you don’t know who he is… you should. Follow the link to his web site and perhaps do a bit of searching to find out more.) I have, of course, known of John’s wonderful photography for some time and I had most recently been to a lecture at the opening of a show of his work in Carmel earlier this summer. The other photographer was Anne Larsen.
The wilderness is always full of surprises, but meeting John and Anne in the Yosemite back-country was one of the most pleasant in recent memory. We spoke for a while until the light began to become more interesting, but at various times during the evening we again ran into one another and talked about this and that. The next morning I met them once again as we were heading back to the trail head. (I felt a bit guilty about my “tiny” 15 pound load of photography equipment – they were each carrying close to 30 pounds of film gear!)
The photograph is of a tree-covered rocky rise at the end of a narrow curving peninsula that forms a small lagoon near the outlet of the lake. My initial thought had been to photograph a small tree near the edge of the lake – one that I have photographed in the past – but John correctly pointed out that it would be in shadow at the time of best light, so I decided to focus on this subject instead.
This photograph is not in the public domain and may not be used on websites, blogs, or in other media without advance permission from G Dan Mitchell.
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‘Ansel Adams: Early Works’ at the San Jose Museum of Art
As noted earlier, yesterday I again visited the “Ansel Adams: Early Works” exhibit at the San Jose Museum of Art. (Yesterday was supposed to be the final day – so if you missed it, I’m afraid you missed it!)
I always see and learn more when I have a chance to revisit work like this, and this was my second visit to this show. One of the wonderful things about it was that most of the photographs were small! This meant that they were presented more intimately, forcing one to look at them in a way different from our typical “monumental photograph” mindset when we look at Adams’ landscapes. In addition, many were from the 1920s (especially) and early 1930s before he adopted the more sharp and high contrast style with which most of us are more familiar.
A few things I came away with:
I’m so impressed with his seemingly atypical photograph of Stieglitz in his gallery in New York, with its beautiful composition and wonderful use of light and tonality. And next to this (small) photograph was a simple quote from Adams that (finally!) crystallized the whole Stieglitz “equivalence” thing for me.
I think I actually liked some of the early prints more than some the later ones, at least in a few cases. Side by side were hung two versions of the famous “Monolith” Half Dome photograph from the Diving Board. One was a small and rather dark early print, and the other was a much larger print made later that exhibits the lighter and brighter appearance. To me, the upper portion of the larger and more famous version has “issues,” especially in the handling of tones near the upper right corner. I think I actually prefer the darker rendition of his earlier print. (I guess that if I could “make my own Adams,” I might start with the darker one and go about 20% of the way towards the lighter one.)
In the “how could I have missed this before” department was my sudden recognition of the obvious parallels between one of his “White House Ruin” photographs (not the more famous one shot from an oblique angle but one shot straight on that even includes a bit of fence in the foreground) and the “Frozen Lake and Cliffs” photograph from Precipice Lake in the Sierra. Not only do both feature similar vertical banded patterns on the predominant rock faces, but both feature small “pyramid” shapes (sun-lit brush in the former and snow in the latter) and contrasting horizontal bands at the bottom of the frame (sunlit ground in the former and the ce/lake in the latter).
I also thought more about the photograph of roots that he made in Hawaii. As I understand it, Adams said that he didn’t really quite connect with Hawaii in the same way he connected with other subjects that he worked with. But this particular photograph – featuring a beautifully lit and composed group of curving roots and some small leaves – is truly wonderful.
Finally, in an odd way it reassures me to see some Ansel Adams prints that seem, how to say this, “not so special.” This is an important reminder of so many things: How astonishing it is when truly amazing work emerges from the background of lesser work; reaffirmation that no artist just creates great stuff – failure (often a lot of it!) is necessary as well; and a clearer sense of the humanity of Adams.
Sorry you missed it!
Two Photographers: Two Videos
I came across a couple of interesting videos of photographers on the web today.
The first is a wonderful video of Michael Kenna photographing in the snow in Hokkaido, Japan. The video is partly an interview, partly a visual narrative of Kenna at work, and partly a collection of interesting scenes and images associated with some of his photographs. There is a lot to think about and consider in the video, and it struck several chords for me. Among many was his use of the word “hunt” to describe the act of looking for and finding photographic images, and not perhaps just in the sense of tracking and capturing an image, but also, I think, related to the need to be patient and to understand the “quarry.” I often have thought about the “hunt” aspect of looking for subject. (Link originally seen at George Barr’s Behind the Lens blog.)
The second video is rather different but also features a very talented landscape photographer, Charlie Cramer. Unlike the slow moving and rather poetic video of Kenna with its long silent shots and occasional sparse music, this video interview (on the Marc Silber show) is pretty “straight ahead” – basically a record of Charlie talking about his ubiquitous framing guide, a sheet of mat board with a 4 x 5 cutout that he uses to help him visual photographs while he is in the field. This is interesting and Charlie makes a compelling case for using this “tool.” (I’ve thought about it, but never “gone there.” Perhaps I will now…) More interesting to me were a few side comments that Charlie makes in the course of the interview. For one, he refers to the frame as a “blood pressure meter,” and suggests that he more or less “just knows” when a scene is going to work because when he views it in the frame he feels his blood pressure rises. (In another context he has spoken of hearing the scene whisper, “Take me!”) The point, I think (and forgive me if I have this wrong, Charlie!) is that all of the rules of composition in the world won’t help you that much in the end – essentially you need to be able to look at the subject and “just know” that it will work and how.