“FRESH” — A person walks past a Dublin wall with painted flames and a “FRESH” sign in the Temple Bar district.
I have seen Dublin’s Temple Bar district described in various ways: historic, touristy, not a place to go at night, nightlife hub. From what I could gather on our brief visit this past May, any or all of those might be correct, though I saw no real evidence of it being dangerous. Mostly it felt like one of those typical big city tourist areas, center in an older district with “character,” and gradually being invaded by chain restaurants and shops. But there are still some fun rough edges.
“Sharpsville” — A person walks by the Sharpsville store in Dublin’s Temple Bar district.
On trips like our recent one to the British Isles, I operate in at least two distinctly different photographic modes: landscape photographer (s my recent Scotland work) and street photographer. During our visit to Dublin I was almost exclusively in the latter mode. Dublin is a rich location for street photography. There are crowds of people, and the city has a vibrant, alive feeling. There are also lots of fascinating old and sometimes nicely weathered building.
Weathered and cracked numbers painted on the wall of an old San Francisco hotel.
Photographs like this one have, at least for me, several purposes or rationales. To some extent, walking into a regular city environment and looking for little visual odds and ends is an important exercise in visual awareness. It is so easy to walk through such places and not pay a lot of attention, and when you do so while searching for images you see things that you’d otherwise miss. It is also interesting, I think, to “excerpt” small things from their larger context. (This bit of signage, is small enough that you might barely notice it if you took in the whole building at once.) With this one there is also a bit of that odd characteristic of some photographs, where their age — or the age of the subject — becomes somewhat interesting on its own.
So, what is it? It is a bit of a hand-painted street number sign on a very old (and somewhat iconic) building on a street in San Francisco that I often walk on these street photography visits. What else is it? It is color and form, abstracted to some extent from its original context. But not entirely abstracted, since if you look closely you might notice the extremely weathered and cracked paint and you might wonder about the history of this little bit of a sign, especially in an era when one-of-a-kind hand-painted signage is increasingly replaced by industrial signage.
G Dan Mitchell is a California photographer and visual opportunist. His book, “California’s Fall Color: A Photographer’s Guide to Autumn in the Sierra” is available from Heyday Books and Amazon.
Two women stand in in front to the painted walls of Marina Auto Body, San Francisco
Marina Auto Body is not a place I had previously noticed on my San Francisco street photography walks. I’m a bit surprised, as it it is just a short distance down a side street that I almost always cross when walking from the train station toward the central downtown, and I have photographed other subjects near this intersection. Perhaps this time I missed the walk signal, looked around for a moment, and happened to see it.
I think that I perhaps first noticed the two figures standing in front of the show and set off against the mostly-blue paint of the building. I walked up the street so that I could be directly across the street to photograph — I might have wished to be a bit closer, but I had little choice given the wide and very busy street. I waited, and finally was able to photograph during a break in the traffic. The little building is visually remarkable, with vividly painted scenes on each of the large doors.
G Dan Mitchell is a California photographer and visual opportunist. His book, “California’s Fall Color: A Photographer’s Guide to Autumn in the Sierra” is available from Heyday Books and Amazon.
