White door and stucco on a building in San Francisco, California.
As I photograph the various usual subjects that appear here, I always have a few background subjects that I’m always looking out for. One of my projects might be described as “urban minimalism,” featuring subjects from the urban environment that are very simple. This is probably about as minimalist as I can get with such images. (Though, now that I’ve written that, I’m starting to think of some even “more minimalist” possibilities. Funny.)
This one gets perilously close to the infamous “Polar Bear in Snowstorm” photo that people imagine from time to time. It is a white door in a white door frame against a white wall. Believe it or not, I had to go back and forth for a while to decide whether to print it in color or black and white – and, no, I’m not joking. Much of the image changes little when I switch between the two interpretations. However, there is a slight coloration to the “white” wall (that is almost certainly not displayed accurately on your monitor) and there is some real color on the metal security cover over the lock. But still… it is almost all shades of white in the end.
Man sitting on steps in front of tattoo parlor below the Golden Eagle Hotel, San Francisco.
Last summer, on one of my “walking shoots” in San Francisco, I wandered into a less-than-lovely area of The City – though it has its points of visual interest, for sure. I named this photograph after the Golden Eagle Hotel at least partly because I assume that the dilapidated green apartment building above the colorful (in many senses) shops at street level comprise the “hotel.” Another reason is that I wasn’t sure I wanted to title a photograph “Tattoo” or “Naughty Laundry!” (I don’t know what the “Naughty Laundry” place is, and I probably am better of keeping it that way! :-)
In a sense, every photograph I make is “about” something, though often they are simply about the qualities of the subject or subjects themselves. You could certainly look at this image that way. I was certainly intrigued by the juxtaposition of the very colorful and closely packed shops and the very drab apartments above. The building itself, which may have seen better days, is interesting to me architecturally. What is with the little round windows, with their thick frames, between the conventional rectangular windows? And despite having some interesting San Francisco qualities, the building is terribly run down. A close look reveals peeling paint, wires running here and there, painted over spots of what might have been graffiti, and so forth.
Then there is that guy sitting on the step of “Goldfield’s Original Broadway Tattoo Studio.” There are no other people in the scene, and my recollection is that there really weren’t many people around. He sits, face downward and headphones on, apparently completely engrossed in whatever technology he holds in his hand, and apparently also completely disassociated from his environment. You can find a lot of people like this today.
Black and white photograph of the ruins of an abandoned mining cabin high in the Panamint Mountain Range of Death Valley National Park.
There are a number of things that make Death Valley National Park, to the best of my knowledge, rather unique. One is the extensive history of human habitation inside the park boundaries, quite a bit of which is visible – though some takes a bit more effort and attention to spot. The history of mining in the park is well-known, and many of the icons of the park have connections to this history. If you visit Furnace Creek, for example, you cannot miss the displays of old wagons and so forth used to move ore out of the Valley. It doesn’t take a lot of careful study to figure out that many park roads originated in an era of prospecting and mining. There are several well-known examples of structures left over from that era in and around the park, too.
It is largely because of this history that many areas of this national park are (or have been – some are now reverting to wilderness status) accessible by gravel road or four-wheel-drive routes. I would argue that you can’t really get to know this park if you just stick to the paved roads and the points of interest that they access. If you drive any of these other routes and keep your eyes open you will often be surprised by the left overs from relatively recent mining and prospecting, much of which isn’t really written about or described in the usual guides to the park. (And I’m not going to offer specific details about where to find such places here, since I don’t want to be even a little bit responsible for damage to them. If you do visit, treat them with care and respect.)
As I drove along a gravel road in one of the many mountain ranges of the park, returning from a site that is somewhat well-known, I began to notice evidence of fairly recent mining and prospecting. Faint tracks depart from the main “road” and cross valleys and hills, here and there tailing piles and mine entrances are visible, and sometimes you come across old structures such as cabins, storage bunkers, or wooden towers above mine entrances. I spotted the ruins of this old cabin above the road at one point and decided to walk up and investigate.
I’m almost always surprised at how “modern” many of the traces found at these places seem to be. I guess I am expecting something from the 1800s, but quite a few of these places look like they were build and occupied much later than that. I find modern things like linoleum flooring or modern-looking nails or electrical wire in many of them. There obviously isn’t much left of this cabin now, but from the detritus lying around near it and the form and materials found here, it must have been a reasonably comfortable place to live. As I walk around such places I often try to imagine what it must have been like to wake up every morning in this silent desert and head out for another day of physical labor.
The light of the full moon illuminates the facade of a wooden building, and outside stairway, and passing overhead fog clouds at Mare Island Naval Ship Yard.
Since I was out doing night photography this weekend, I’m going to use this as an excuse to insert a night image into the recent stream of Death Valley photographs. (There are more of those, but a bit of variety can’t hurt.) I got an email from Tim Baskerville, the guiding light (guiding dark?) of The Nocturnes, the San Francisco Bay Area night photography group. Tim has introduced and guided many new night photographers over the past few decades, and The Nocturnes group is a sort of loose collective linking together lots of night photographers and providing instruction, online resources, and shows of night photography work. As this is the 20th year for the group, lots of special activities are taking place and this little spontaneous get-together at Mare Island was one of them.
A small story from this weekend’s shoot may illustrate the widespread effect of Tim’s work with night photography in general and with the Mare Island location specifically. Those of us who were to meet Tim at Mare Island arrived to find other photographers already assembled at the indicated meeting place – but we didn’t really recognize most of the group. It turns out that another night photography group (loosely organized, as I understand it, by Thomas Hawk and Ivan Makarov) was going to be there as well. We spoke with them a bit and then they departed for the far end of the island. (They returned later and we worked side by side.) But then, a few minutes later, more vehicles began to show up and we thought that they might be the rest of our group, especially when someone asked “Are you the Nocturnes?” But no, this was a third night photography group, this one out of Sacramento!
In any case, as the light diminished and night came on we started shooting. We had a nearly full moon, which can be a wonderful asset, not so much as a subject (it is very difficult to include the full moon in night shots) but for the beautiful light is sheds on other subjects that might otherwise be very dark. On top of that, we had a combination of some high clouds (which are relatively stationary) and low fog (which creates a nice luminous glow as it quickly passes). I decided to begin the evening’s work by photographing this wooden-sided building and its outside staircase, illuminated by the moonlight, and with a bit of the cloudy sky and faint star trails.
Photographer and visual opportunist. Daily photos since 2005, plus articles, reviews, news, and ideas.
Manage Consent
To provide the best experiences, we use technologies like cookies to store and/or access device information. Consenting to these technologies will allow us to process data such as browsing behavior or unique IDs on this site. Not consenting or withdrawing consent, may adversely affect certain features and functions.
Functional
Always active
The technical storage or access is strictly necessary for the legitimate purpose of enabling the use of a specific service explicitly requested by the subscriber or user, or for the sole purpose of carrying out the transmission of a communication over an electronic communications network.
Preferences
The technical storage or access is necessary for the legitimate purpose of storing preferences that are not requested by the subscriber or user.
Statistics
The technical storage or access that is used exclusively for statistical purposes.The technical storage or access that is used exclusively for anonymous statistical purposes. Without a subpoena, voluntary compliance on the part of your Internet Service Provider, or additional records from a third party, information stored or retrieved for this purpose alone cannot usually be used to identify you.
Marketing
The technical storage or access is required to create user profiles to send advertising, or to track the user on a website or across several websites for similar marketing purposes.
