tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57370097629089269572024-03-18T02:48:15.935-07:00Lou JonesA Photography BlogLou Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16401845988446927643noreply@blogger.comBlogger87125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5737009762908926957.post-27957899614839838182018-02-20T14:19:00.000-08:002018-02-20T14:19:33.786-08:00Obsessions<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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All art is somehow obsessive but many photographers take it to extremes (where most of the best pictures are): extremes of place, extremes of climate, extremes of consciousness. In this blog, we are investigating those obsessions, i.e. the extremes photographers will go to make a point.<br />
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LONG-TERM PROJECTS</h4>
There are those who would say that art is by its very nature obsessive. Many artistic projects can start as simple ideas but others are ambitious. What begins with a singular concept can with time become something quite different. Maintaining the same point-of-view for days, months, years has a lot to do with luck & what you learn along the way. Time changes everything & that goes for photography too. Also, a simple idea can become boring. An ambitious one can become too complex. It takes a certain type to see it through to ridiculous limits.<br />
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<a href="https://edwardscurtis.com/">Edward Curtis</a></h4>
In 1906, the American financier, JP Morgan, provided Edward Curtis with funds to photograph Native Americans. Eventually, Curtis saw his goal to not only photograph but to document as much traditional Native American way of life as possible, before it disappeared. The project extended to over thirty years. Curtis took more than 40 thousand images of over 80 tribes along with motion picture film & sound recordings of language & music. Much of this material exists as the only recorded history. The New York Herald hailed it as “the most ambitious enterprise in publishing since the production of the King James Bible.”<br />
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<a href="https://fraenkelgallery.com/videos/nicholas-nixon-the-brown-sisters">Nick Nixon </a></h4>
Photographer, teacher Nick Nixon has taken a portrait of his wife Bebe & her three siblings, The Brown Sisters, every year since 1974, making us confront the passing of time, family ties & our own mortality. The series is a testament to the cumulative power of what began as a simple idea done out of boredom. Nixon utilizes a large format camera & poses the four women in the same position every year. It has been widely exhibited in galleries & museums such as MoMA.<br />
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<a href="http://www.kbeveryday.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-size: small;">Karl Baden</span></a></h4>
Self portrait daily for 40+ years<br />
Teacher/photographer, Karl Baden, has been doing “selfies” since before that term was coined. Using the same 35mm camera, tripod, backdrop & lighting, the Cambridge resident has photographed himself in the same exact position to the best of his abilities since February 23, 1987. Besides mortality, Baden says the project touches on the notions of obsession, incremental change, and perfection.<br />
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THEME</h3>
Of course, the final product is the driving force for many artistic projects that become obsessions. The pursuit of a single or series of images may force a photographer to follow a nonlinear course of action. They are seeking a vision that proves elusive or out of reach. The obsession comes from not being dissuaded until that vision is realized. Perfection is difficult or impossible even but the artist persists. That advances human knowledge & visual literacy. Art teaches us not just to see but to see better.<br />
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Guy Walks Across America</h4>
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This video of a man trekking from the Brooklyn Bridge to the Golden Gate Bridge was a viral sensation on YouTube. The video is popular not just because it's a trek past American landmarks both major and minor, but because of a unique visual effect created by a combination of stop-motion and time-lapse video. The finished project consists of 2,770 still frames shot over 14 days. The filmmakers actually traveled cross-country in an RV, "living on the Gatorade diet" and stopping at scenic places along the way to do their shoots.<br />
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<br />Daguerreotype of the moon </h4>
US Naval Observatory in Washington DC<br />
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Sounds simple enough but the story of two teams 130+ years apart accomplishing scientific legerdemain is a classic obsession. Jan Herman, curator at the US Naval Observatory, & his team thought mounting a large daguerreotype camera to a celestial telescope to duplicate the feat of photographing the moon in 1851 would be interesting & easy. It took the original scientist, George Bond, eight months to figure out how to compensate for the movement of the earth, the wavelengths of light not focusing at the same point through a refracting telescope & ASA of ancient daguerreotype technique being approximately .08.<br />
After a humiliating first attempt, it took the modern crew almost a year to recreate Bond’s efforts. But seeing images of the craters of Tycho & Copernicus appear in the developer was both historical, beautiful & worth the science.<br />
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<a href="https://murrayfredericks.com.au/projects-2/salt/#">Murray Fredericks/SALT</a></h4>
In his search for "somewhere I could point my camera into pure space," award-winning photographer Murray Fredericks began making annual solo camping trips to remote Lake Eyre and its salt flats in South Australia. These trips have yielded remarkable photos of a boundless, desolate yet beautiful environment where sky, water, and land merge. The large format photographs are sometimes a video diary with time-lapse sequences to create the liberating and disorienting experience of being thrown into an infinite dimension of mind and spirit.<br />
The photographs are accompanied by a 28-minute documentary film also shot over many years. It follows the journey(s) of the photographer, who made over fifteen, often month-long journeys, to the center of the Lake to produce the "Salt" photographic series.<br />
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Timothy H O’Sullivan & William Henry Jackson & George Gardner</h4>
From 1867 to 1869, Timothy H O’Sullivan was the official photographer on the United States Geological Exploration of the Fortieth Parallel. His job was to photograph the West to attract settlers. In so doing, he became one of the pioneers in the field of geophotography. O'Sullivan's pictures were among the first to record prehistoric ruins, Navajo weavers, and pueblo villages of the Southwest. The subject matter he focused on was a new concept. It involved taking pictures of nature as an untamed, pre-industrialized land without the use of landscape painting conventions. O'Sullivan combined science and art, making exact records of extraordinary beauty.<br />
William Henry Jackson was a Civil War photographer who worked for Matthew Brady. Along with a geologist, cartographer, geographer, cavalry, etc. & traveling in horsedrawn wagons equipped with glass plate negative darkrooms, he surveyed unknown territories & subjects similar to O’Sullivan, west of the Mississippi. Their outputs are in the Library of Congress & eventually were used to establish the US Park Service.<br />
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<a href="http://www.markklettphotography.com/books-summary/o5e52d27tzv5f8p97wenyvgwtw96t9">Mark Klett & JoAnne Verburg</a></h4>
In 1976 two young photographers, Mark Klett and JoAnn Verburg, and a photo-historian named Ellen Manchester came together with an idea to locate & rephotograph sites in the American West that had originally been documented by the great government survey photographers such as William Henry Jackson and Timothy O’Sullivan in the late nineteenth century. By the spring of 1977 and with the support of various organizations they began a project that spanned the next three years and would eventually become known as the Rephotographic Survey Project (RSP).<br />
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The photographers took great care in reconstructing topographically exact replicas. They researched & attempted to use the same cameras & lenses, same tripod locations, same seasons & time of year to mimic the light & other conditions. This project raises important questions about our relationship to this historic archive.<br />
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ADDICTION</h3>
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Many great artists are known obsessive-compulsives. Obsession by its nature is not always good. It has a dark side too. Much of art is personal, painful, dark, negative. It must be to reflect our world. We have talked about extremes but often they become dangerous. Photographers cover wars, precarious events that put them into perilous situations. Some may consider this exciting, cool, adventurous. This is misplaced bravado. But to risk life & limb for art is not a good idea. History only rewards those who get there, record it AND return.<br />
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<a href="https://petapixel.com/2017/12/12/famous-chinese-rooftopper-falls-death-62-story-building/">Rooftopping Casualties</a></h4>
The 26 year old Wu Yengning had become a social media sensation in China with the daredevil activity called “ rooftopping”. In this fairly new trend, young people have been trespassing & illegally climbing to the tops of buildings & skyscrapers & radio towers & posting “selfies” of the dangerous feats. Yengning had become quite adept & was chasing a $15000 prize to scale a 62-storey building in Changsha, China. This controversial practice has led to the deaths of many youths around the world & recently Wu fell to his death with the entire episode videotaped. His death is a direct result of promoting this strange & highly maligned new photographic obsession where the risk factors really have no justification.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00576235828118333463noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5737009762908926957.post-67336625862241218892017-11-01T21:43:00.000-07:002017-11-01T21:43:13.299-07:00BATEAUX: Boats,Ships and the Sea<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I’m a landlubber. NOT Melville’s “Ishmael”. I like my feet firmly planted on terra firma. Due to an accident of birth, I have always been of a mind that the blood relations forged on solid ground are thicker than those mixed with H2O. And although in my career as a photographer, I have driven, flown over or walked nearly one-third of the globe’s habitable landmass, I have spent an inordinate amount of time in the water. For the past several decades I have photographed every form of boat, ship, canoe, warship, and raft, even though I am out of place and always...a passenger.<br />
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The ocean remains one of life’s biggest mysteries. While not everyone is brave enough to embark, all paths end at a body of water. Throughout human history, boats have been used for transportation, battle, fishing, cargo, trade, leisure, and sport. Many photographers have specialties but my obsession encompasses the armada.<br />
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<b>CANOES</b><br />
One of the oldest floating inventions, canoes began as hollowed trees or made of bark stretched on a wood frame. Powered by oars which also facilitated navigation, they are illustrated in Egyptian hieroglyphics. From simple beginnings, canoes have evolved drastically and are still a major mode of transportation today.<br />
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As a boy, I was introduced to canoes at summer camp. Thrown into a lake, I also learned to swim, badly, on my own. Counselors encouraged campers to sign boats out with a buddy. I never quite got the hang of propelling myself effortlessly down the river. My course was much like the “random walk” math problem so we meandered around in circles.<br />
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I graduated to rowboats, kayaks and rubber rafts with not much better luck. A decade ago I found myself in a huge dugout, being transported by a headhunter’s canoe into the heart of Borneo. The river beneath us was mocha chocolate and we dodged overhanging tree limbs that sporadically struck me in the face. I photographed the Iban tribe for a few days before going back to the mainland, years later I returned to the village. This time the boat ride was deluged by a monsoon. I lost the bailing battle as water rose around my hips. My cameras and I both survived as my tattooed oarsmen navigated the waterway for miles from memory.<br />
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<b>PIROGUES</b><br />
It was out of the mouths of great rivers that men first ventured upon the trackless and homeless sea. Seafaring men must have realized the peculiar freedom and opportunities the boat gave them. In order to adventure farther, outfitted with sails to utilize wind-power, pirogues, feluccas, and dhows are found in random corners of the world. I have photographed them in Southeast Asia, on the Nile, and off Zanzibar.<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>The barge she sat in, like a burnished throne,</i><i>Burned in the water; the poop was beaten gold,</i><i>Purple the sails, and so perfumed, that</i><i>The winds were love-sick with them; the oars were silver,</i><i>Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made</i><i>The water which they beat to follow faster,</i><i>As amorous of their strokes. For her own person,</i><i>It beggared all description.</i>-William Shakespeare, Antony & Cleopatra</blockquote>
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<b>SAILS</b><br />
Basically, there are two types of sails: Square-rigged which came earlier but were limited by wind only at your back; Lateen or triangular shapes made it possible to tack back and forth into the wind. Commerce and exploration led to the eventual conversion. Tradewinds allowed empire building to barter with cultures separated by vast oceans but, eventually, ships had to turn around and come back. Ship owners, captains, and merchants could not wait for the seasons to change and the winds to reverse in order to bring their goods to market.<br />
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<br /><i>The perfection of the yacht’s beauty is that nothing should<br />Be there for only beauty’s sake.</i><br />-John McGregor, The Voyage Alone in the Rob Roy</blockquote>
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There is a moment in every sail, whether you are on a ten-foot dinghy or in a fifty-foot-plus cruiser when the physics of wind and water catch hold of you. I fell in love with sailing when I was covering the last America’s Cup campaign in Newport, Rhode Island. Since I had no clue, I called the best sailing photographers for advice and they shared tips to protect my equipment against salt spray as well as what subtleties to aim for.<br />
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<i>With one wing in the water, one in the air, sailing is a flight on the edge.</i><br />
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Relying on their experience, I shot from land, rented chase boats and airplanes. Not surprisingly I became mesmerized by the beauty of the twelve-meter yachts silently hovering over the waves. Flat on my back, I documented, using wide-angle lenses, lying directly beneath the prow of the competitors and with telephotos, high above the spinnakers, hanging out of a Robinson helicopter. Although the US lost, after that summer, I learned to duplicate the graceful maneuvers while crewing on anything that floated.<br />
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<i>A boat is a hole in the water into which you pour money.</i></blockquote>
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<b>TALL SHIPS</b><br />
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KfahOydOHOc/WfqeOmkMaWI/AAAAAAAAM94/5tvE9GNS_vct6_k_rE1MSnpxTrFa614iwCLcBGAs/s1600/Tall_Ships_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="823" data-original-width="560" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KfahOydOHOc/WfqeOmkMaWI/AAAAAAAAM94/5tvE9GNS_vct6_k_rE1MSnpxTrFa614iwCLcBGAs/s320/Tall_Ships_001.jpg" width="217" /></a>Historically as sails got larger, so did the vessels. I have talked my way onto multiple voyages aboard many of the world’s tall ships: Christian Radich (Norway), Juan Sebastian de Elcano (Spain). Esmerelda (Chile), etc. These replicated the majestic ships mythologized on the private club walls of stuffy, old men. The first time I witnessed young cadets, in unison, unfurl and rotate the vast, stretches of canvas overhead I was forever bound to the Greek, Phoenician, Egyptian, Viking and Chinese sailor’s ancestors across time and geography.<br />
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There are millions of “beauty shots” of three-masted schooners, barques, and cutters. That is why I continue to concentrate on helping viewers “experience” life at sea. This requires a sort of “participatory journalism” and ultimately experiencing life onboard myself. It is a totally different approach, a different point of view.<br />
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Crisscrossing oceans and ponds on all manner of floating vehicle, it has become increasingly clear that life on the sea exists between narrow bands of bliss, between dead calms and deadly storms. I have weathered both. The variability and dangers are part of the allure.<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>Of all the living creatures upon land and sea, it is the ships alone that cannot<br />Be taken in by pretences, that will not put up with bad art from their masters.</i>-Joseph Conrad, Mirror of the Sea</blockquote>
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<b>FISHING</b><br />
Oars gave way to sails. Sails gave way to motors. On one of the first assignments into which I threw my entire being was documenting the historical Boston Fish Pier. My client expected a few days of cursory coverage but I spent months returning to photograph the ancient rituals, against decaying gunwales and on crowded decks. The series became one of my first long-term projects. In winter the icicles hanging from the yardarms emphasized the harsh conditions and I discovered how to shoot with gloves. In summer the smell of the huge, fresh catch was putrid. I learned to love it.<br />
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<br />
<b>WAR</b><br />
Despite all the advantages the seas afford civilizations, their greatest resources are directed at conflict. War has commanded the biggest revenues and technological changes throughout history. And seemingly sophisticated societies have developed triremes, battleships and submarines to destroy their enemies.<br />
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Princess Diana died the same day I first tailhook-landed on the flight deck of an aircraft carrier. They are floating metropolises, moved by harnessed nuclear energy. Onboard are nearly battalions of uniformed combatants, dozens of the most advanced and expensive flying machines known to man, restaurants, hospitals, and weapons that can decimate entire nations.<br />
<br />
The US Atlantic fleet was involved in war games and I hitched a ride. To chase mesomorph-marine troops in land assaults, I worked out for months. That made the ordeal bearable but I still got lost in the labyrinth of decks, mess halls, and cabins.<br />
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Most people take pictures of fashion models or landscapes or colorful flowers but boats push back. As part of the eternal human condition, they are just as beautiful as pretty girls but require a different solution every time. The pictures are as primal as history while as contemporary as any technology. Something magical happens at the edge where land meets sea.<br />
And you can never exhaust the photography.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00576235828118333463noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5737009762908926957.post-86522813834107974732017-10-13T19:57:00.000-07:002017-10-16T20:02:52.363-07:00Join Us at Photo Plus Expo Oct 25-28 in NY<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: #333333; font-family: "source sans pro" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Join Lou and his Studio at Photo Plus Expo this Oct in NYC for a weekend of fun Photography Events.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: #333333; font-family: "source sans pro" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Lou will be giving a NEW lecture based on his recent successful panAFRICAproject Kickstarter campaign. </span><br />
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<b style="background-color: #f3f3f3; box-sizing: border-box;">Crowd Funding: Exciting New Resources for Photographers</b></h4>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "source sans pro" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><b style="background-color: #f3f3f3;">Thursday, October 26, 2017: 4:30 PM - 6:30 PM</b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "source sans pro" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">You can use this <a href="https://l.feathr.co/v1/photo-plus-2017-lou-jones-w">LINK </a>to get a FREE Expo floor pass or 15% off your registration for the conference. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "source sans pro" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Lou will also be doing print signings with <a href="http://www.digitalsilverimaging.com/">Digital Silver Imaging</a> at their Booth #164. </span></span><br />
<b style="background-color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "source sans pro" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Friday </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: x-small;">27 October 2017 at 1:00pm</span></b><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "source sans pro" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00576235828118333463noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5737009762908926957.post-58393599806528896642017-06-07T10:00:00.000-07:002017-06-08T00:32:19.561-07:00Streets, Roads, Highways and Byways <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My father taught me to drive manual transmission when I was a boy. Instantly it gave me the ability to break free of my neighborhood once and for all. I have been on the go since, both physically and metaphorically. I drove away and have trod the “streets, roads, highways and byways” of the world, continuously.<br />
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When you look at any map, the lines that crisscross appear featureless, anonymous and generic. However the roads those markings represent are biographical. They absorb the personality of the region or culture. They can also be just a frame of mind.<br />
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Roads constitute the largest man-made artifact on earth. Of course, they can be long or “less taken”, thruway or path. They assume different forms in different seasons or look different, in different directions.<br />
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Civilizations migrated via roads, conquering armies march on roads, discoveries were facilitated by roads. Many have vanished but remain a thing of myth and legend: Silk Road, Appian Way, Chisholm Trail, Lover’s Lane, Easy Street, and so on.<br />
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Ultimately they make for great photographs.<br />
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<h4>
<b>Route 66</b></h4>
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Route 66, the Mother Road, originally ran from Chicago, Illinois to Santa Monica California. It has been the subject of many books, stories and movies. As a kid I watched a television show that made the theme song famous.<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
If you ever plan to motor west,<br />
Travel my way, take the highway that is best.<br />
Get your kicks on Route sixty-six.<br />
-Nat King Cole</blockquote>
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Too many photographers have tried to take pictures of it's legend and the kitsch that has grown up in it's wake. Most attempts are just pedestrian (no pun intended) but some are sublime.<br />
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My inspiration was from a photograph by one of my favorite photographers,<br />
<br />
Ernst Haas, which he took in 1969. He surprised me and turned urban/suburban sprawl into art. I dreamed of finding a stretch of highway similar to his cluttered, chaotic image to make my own assessment.<br />
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I scouted for hours, then set up my 300mm telephoto in the middle of the road and waited for the light. I was there for so long, that a car full of thugs drove up and threatened me because they thought I was spying on their whore house, which was about a quarter mile down the road. I never noticed the activity until they mentioned it.<br />
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<h3>
<b>Streets</b></h3>
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Streets are a different subject altogether. Usually paved, they are urban, being thoroughfares through villages, towns or cities. There may be sidewalks and people living on one or both sides. Every street I have photographed is a short story in my visual lexicon; some famous, some off the beaten path. You find extraordinary things on ordinary streets: lights, obscure shadows, random architecture, homelessness, patriotic parades, weathered cobblestones, lost pedestrians, wild-eyed gypsies women, cars and crime. The famous ones reflect a certain economic paradigm: Rodeo Drive, Wall Street, Bond Street, et al.<br />
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<h4>
<b>Champs-Élysées</b></h4>
Paris, France<br />
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Nowhere is there a street more representative of its city than the Champs-Élysées. It is perhaps the most famous promenade in the world. It is hard to express it’s beauty. Parisians celebrate everything there.<br />
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My dream assignment was to shoot a book on “The City of Light”. As often happened in Paris, for hours, I had my tripod set up on the center median desperately waiting for the lights to go on. Traffic whizzed by me on both sides. Unfortunately my presence attracted a lot of attention. Every tourist that spotted me stood directly in front of my camera to try and get the same shot.<br />
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<h4>
<b>Sunset Boulevard</b></h4>
Los Angeles, California<br />
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“The City of Angels” was founded right where Sunset Boulevard begins. For thirty years, I have made it my goal to photograph every aspect of the famous street that leads to the sea. For every assignment in southern<br />
<br />
California, I try to set aside some time to drive, walk and spend time on the street. Each trip is like putting a little of the project in the bank and watching the account generate interest over time. Every deposit is unique. The long street wends through so many divergent neighborhoods: rich, poor, ethnic, picturesque, Hollywood, Beverly Hills, Bel Air, Pacific Palisades, movie stars, etc.<br />
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LA is about movies and cars. Angelenos take their streets very seriously. Over the years I have been hassled by cops, road rage, motorcycle gangs, football coaches and beach bums, all because Sunset Strip has been the subject and verb of my photography, i.e. street photography...<br />
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<h3>
<b>Street Photography</b></h3>
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Street photos are small, quixotic segments of a larger urban landscape. They are bits of a city – metaphors. You are developing small narratives with little beginning or end. Equipment is usually minimal, rather it is the heart behind the camera that makes compelling street photographs. Traditionally we have seen examples by Robert Frank, Eugene Atget and Andre Kertesz but a new wave is represented by Alex Webb, Martin Parr and Constantine Manos who have changed it forever.<br />
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I have walked nearly every inch of the civilized world in pursuit of my street photography. It requires constant diligence and immense quantities of shoe leather. Even though the world’s tableau is constantly changing, it takes skill, dexterity and an open eye and mind to eke out a decent street photograph.<br />
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<h4>
<b>Ginza</b></h4>
Tokyo, Japan<br />
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For many years I traveled to Japan annually, for a variety of advertising, corporate and editorial assignments. Over time I spanned the length and breadth of the island nation. I immersed myself in the culture because, diverged from my own, it made it easier to fathom the social entities I was documenting. I fell in love with almost everything and made some lifelong friends.<br />
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But the Ginza has drawn me back like a magnet. I shopped in the department stores, ate at the cafes and did a lot of street shooting between sun and rain. There was a large gap since the last time I visited. Returning<br />
<br />
to my old haunts was invigorating because much had changed. In an effort to reshoot the most neon-lit street in the world, I got arrested for being on a highway overpass. I guess, “you can’t go home again.”<br />
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<h3>
<b>Highways</b></h3>
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Highways are a more recent feature on road maps. They have provided the average citizen opportunity to travel much farther for business and pleasure. A product of American car culture: Detroit built cars to fill the highways and the interstate system mobilized those who could afford it.<br />
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The road trip is an American staple. “Motoring” became a noun. Walt Whitman coined the phrase “the open road”. Jack Kerouac’s novel On the Road defined the Beat generation as well as glamorized a new mobile lifestyle.<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Life is a highway<br />
I wanna ride it all night long<br />
If you’re going my way<br />
I’m going to drive it all night long<br />
-Tom Cochrane</blockquote>
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<h4>
<b>US1</b></h4>
Florida<br />
<br />
For the adventure of a lifetime, I had thought to do a road trip down through the Florida Keys, stopping along the way to make pictures. Life is lived very differently along an archipelago of islands, connected by a highway. Each community was mysterious and had its own demimonde.<br />
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We drove south from Miami, stopping when I saw something. We backtracked when I thought there was more than met the eye. Through Marathon, Key Largo, made famous by the movie, Pigeon Key, Plantation Key, Islamorada, we made pilgrimages into the interior settlements, swamps and fishing villages.<br />
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I even rented a single engine plane to fly over Seven Mile Bridge, so I could take some aerials. Ultimately I spent time in Key West (made a household name by Ernest Hemingway), which is the end of the line. By the time people venture that far, they are altered. They have wandered until they cannot go any more. A lot of weird people live at the ends of the earth.<br />
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<h3>
<b>Byways</b></h3>
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Tin Pan Alley<br />
Shot in Lisbon, Portugal<br />
Acorn street<br />
Skid Row<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Of all the paths you take in life, make sure a few of them are dirt.<br />
-John Muir</blockquote>
</blockquote>
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Alleys, paths, lanes and other byways are narrow, often reserved for pedestrians. They meander between buildings, through gardens or behind-the-scenes. The more labyrinthine, the more full of dread and whimsy. In the country, they are used by livestock, bicycles and those looking for shortcuts. While in the city, nefarious interactions were conducted side by side with me and my buddies playing football and baseball in the appropriate season.<br />
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Once I fell on cobblestones in sacred cowsh*t trying to make my way to the Ganges River in Varanasi, India. The passageway was so narrow and serpentine, I would never have found my way if not for the tuk-tuk driver who was leading the charge. Despite the accident, the photography was spectacular.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00576235828118333463noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5737009762908926957.post-16491417201859611902017-02-06T17:32:00.000-08:002017-03-01T17:37:06.245-08:00Canon versus Nikon: off the record interview<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-19WE0FZsj9A/WLd10bcVAFI/AAAAAAAAMLk/ZEKu6Zho6iEgTZH-YJ3KlMIghcxp0AeDgCLcB/s1600/13925417_10153823501060665_1140060507898322587_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-19WE0FZsj9A/WLd10bcVAFI/AAAAAAAAMLk/ZEKu6Zho6iEgTZH-YJ3KlMIghcxp0AeDgCLcB/s400/13925417_10153823501060665_1140060507898322587_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Photo by Michael DeStefano</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Canon</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">: I don’t know what the big deal is. There is no rivalry. We’re pretty much good friends.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Nikon</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">: Well it’s not like we hang out or anything. Except at big events like Olympics, inaugurations, car races...stuff like that.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Canon</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">: He’s a jerk sometimes. We’ve had our differences. But he won’t admit he </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">loves </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">me.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Nikon</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">: Shut up.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Canon</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">: We’re always trying to one up each other but we have a lot in common though. We’re getting along much better now.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Nikon</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">: The worst part? He’s into color, I still love black & white. Classic.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Canon</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">: </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Canon Leica Nikon.</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> haha</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Nikon</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">: Jeez. Haven’t heard that one in at least half an hour.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Canon</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">: We have both been part of photography history. An integral part.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Nikon</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">: But I was first.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Canon</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">: You always manage to work that into every conversation. Get over it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Nikon</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">: The highlights? Hard one. Maybe all the prizes I’ve won. Pulitzers. World Press Photo. You know?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Canon</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">: Nah! All the great photos of pretty girls. Cars. Pinups. Marilyn. Beyonce. Lamborghinis.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Nikon</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">: Come on. You can never be serious.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Canon</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">: & you can never take a joke. Like the time with that space shuttle fiasco. You screwed the pooch on that one.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Nikon</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">: That wasn’t funny.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Canon</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">: Regrets? Photography has always been kind of expensive. Might like that to change.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Nikon</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">: But that digital thing, who saw that coming?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Canon</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">: Helped</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> my </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">career.</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dQCvGPd9GGo/WLd10YACaTI/AAAAAAAAMLg/l7Z3R5_xnfoWNS3r5rdty012q2K9lw24ACLcB/s1600/13962499_10153824365115665_836410712500781506_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dQCvGPd9GGo/WLd10YACaTI/AAAAAAAAMLg/l7Z3R5_xnfoWNS3r5rdty012q2K9lw24ACLcB/s400/13962499_10153824365115665_836410712500781506_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Michael DeStefano</td></tr>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Nikon</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">: Most of the others have come & gone but we are still hanging in there. Photography is probably more important today than ever. The responsibility is palpable.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Canon</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">: Yeah. Who remembers Argus, Yashika, Ricoh, Polaroid, Kodak?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Nikon</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">: Be nice.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Canon</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">: Oh yeah & those crotch shots of Britney Spears & stuff. Awesome.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Nikon</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">: Cut it out!</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Canon</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">: Hah. Knew that would get him. Do not believe all that stuff. When he’s off the record he’s a horn dog. Really into the porn...Just kidding.</span></span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00576235828118333463noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5737009762908926957.post-20649601013594464372016-12-13T13:24:00.001-08:002016-12-13T13:24:18.104-08:00Road WaRRioR: Traveling with Camera, Lights & Passport<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QrdoxQQLLP4/WFA8s0dEVJI/AAAAAAAACDA/UgfZze13FxsjJDhUItZI0UI1bno9JqXngCLcB/s1600/Speedlight_car-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QrdoxQQLLP4/WFA8s0dEVJI/AAAAAAAACDA/UgfZze13FxsjJDhUItZI0UI1bno9JqXngCLcB/s1600/Speedlight_car-001.JPG" /></a></div>
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I had not been back in over a decade. Unfortunately my return was being tarnished because I was under arrest...by the Tokyo police...for taking a picture. Although I had made the same image years before, where I was now standing was illegal. In the world of a <b>Road WaRRioR</b> this happens more often than is necessary.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l1SLAnmcuwU/WE_uUJN4DnI/AAAAAAAALqI/4S5EqGCH7_cKJg_NI0KcwBF0kkmmDDLeACLcB/s1600/14-09-02_Tanzania-1421.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l1SLAnmcuwU/WE_uUJN4DnI/AAAAAAAALqI/4S5EqGCH7_cKJg_NI0KcwBF0kkmmDDLeACLcB/s320/14-09-02_Tanzania-1421.JPG" width="207" /></a>Periodically I get phone calls from colleagues, students, soccer moms, strangers asking for advice about a dream or an assignment that will take them to a foreign latitudes & longitudes. Some have just a general desire to strike out & photograph exotic locales but others have a specific destination. One is thinking about a potential way-of-life & the other just hoping to reduce the myriad of obstacles in their way for a one time job.<br />
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To be precise there are travel photographers & then there are Road WaRRioRs. For the former, the destination is usually the point. A photographer goes to illuminate a place, a people, a resort or an experience & make it appear attractive & appealing. Road WaRRioRs, however, are in motion to document a point-of-view. The issues may be positive or negative & performed for the highest bidder. Road WaRRioRs travel to photograph; travel photographers vice versa.<br />
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Foolishly I had walked into the ambush on purpose. I planned it for years. My translator & I hired a taxi covered with gaffertape letters (PRENSA, TV, PRESS) “loudly” announcing our intent. The guerrilla forces threw us into a stockade & stripped me of all my money & cameras. I was working for a CODEL (CONgressional DELegation) during the wars in Central America. Eventually we convinced the Salvadoran commandante to let us photograph his band of rebels while behind combat lines. I always bragged my mother raised no fools but I was well beyond that designation on this assignment.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UkFfO7bdtC0/WFA8su-BIxI/AAAAAAAACCs/apkn1Nc2rH4YQP5vq0BZNV80FIvdMJ8yACLcB/s1600/16-03-29_Japan-2597.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UkFfO7bdtC0/WFA8su-BIxI/AAAAAAAACCs/apkn1Nc2rH4YQP5vq0BZNV80FIvdMJ8yACLcB/s1600/16-03-29_Japan-2597.JPG" /></a></div>
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Since Road WaRRioRs spend so much time on the road, both domestic & international, it is very important to adapt unique habits & techniques that are not part of the non traveler’s regimen. Handling visas, managing language, organizing transportation & protocol have to become second nature. Equipment, health, money, metadata are matters of life & death or, at least, survival. You have to learn to love uncertainty & like isolation.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aPpMbHcgzbs/WFA8siTHTqI/AAAAAAAACC0/2XzVAurmEjskMGVd4Pirwr3FGH0-UvILACLcB/s1600/20150816_Namibia_2964.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aPpMbHcgzbs/WFA8siTHTqI/AAAAAAAACC0/2XzVAurmEjskMGVd4Pirwr3FGH0-UvILACLcB/s1600/20150816_Namibia_2964.JPG" /></a></div>
Clients rely on your expertise in navigating the maps & restrictions everyone encounters when crossing borders. Only experience makes circumnavigation easier if not simpler. A tremendous amount of self confidence is necessary to sustain exploring the most remote corners of the world. Virtually anyone can get there. It is the ones who return with pictures who get all the credit.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wlVKtlvITGo/WFA8so_HDFI/AAAAAAAACCw/HESz3qwYsAUmYIObQnr0E1fbO7WZK4TPwCLcB/s1600/20150815_15-09-15_Lou_Camera_Jun-Aug_0087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wlVKtlvITGo/WFA8so_HDFI/AAAAAAAACCw/HESz3qwYsAUmYIObQnr0E1fbO7WZK4TPwCLcB/s320/20150815_15-09-15_Lou_Camera_Jun-Aug_0087.JPG" width="320" /></a>There are frontiers I have visited that are so remote that my sole presence alters the population statistics. On other adventures I find myself in such crowded places that I am cheek-to-jowl with strangers who are hostile to my very existence. Pure air versus asthmatic smog. Sunrise versus gloaming. Epicurean delights versus open campfire grub. Snails v. chocolate. Every step is tenuous. But the aggregate takes you to Shangri-La.<br />
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PHOTO DISTRICT NEWS invited me to give a seminar <b>Road WaRRioR: Traveling with Camera, Lights & Passport</b> about this way of life at PHOTO PLUS EXPO 2016. My staff & I offered a melange of the things we have to consider to fulfill the many kinds of assignments we undertake. Whether it is editorial, corporate, documentary or art, we have to approach the process systematically so as to leave little to chance but allow for an abundance of spontaneity & discovery. <br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hlvN-iF1RKA/WFA8s7rGkKI/AAAAAAAACC4/j3FXrl4yxwoJlFY7CQ57PwJvw6bSHpSqQCLcB/s1600/DSC_3363.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hlvN-iF1RKA/WFA8s7rGkKI/AAAAAAAACC4/j3FXrl4yxwoJlFY7CQ57PwJvw6bSHpSqQCLcB/s1600/DSC_3363.JPG" /></a></div>
Photodemy videotaped the entire lecture & makes it accessible at <a href="https://photodemy.com/en/instructor/lou-jones/">www.Photodemy.com</a>. It is split up into five digestible parts. Photodemy is a subscription service so you have to sign up for it. Once subcribed you get access to all the amazing <a href="https://photodemy.com/en/instructor">Instructors</a> available on the site. Photographers like Bobbi Lane, Brian Smith, Elia Locardi, Joel Grimes, Greg Heisler, Michael Grecco and many many more. Also to supplement that lecture we created an ebook titled RoadWaRRior. You can access that by signing up for my newsletter here on the blog. Chapter by chapter we deal with clothing, marketing, funding, security, etc. <br />
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These two teaching aids combined with a book I wrote a while back titled <b>travel+Photography: Off the Charts</b> which can still sometimes be found on Amazon will get you started. The learning curve is steep & long. These three aids are compiled to help you shorten the path & lengthen the journey.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-o4ZICP77_u4/WFA8swiLGVI/AAAAAAAACDE/Xv72cTjotNgeIYMKz4lWKlyDTqMA50lrgCLcB/s1600/untitled-1856.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-o4ZICP77_u4/WFA8swiLGVI/AAAAAAAACDE/Xv72cTjotNgeIYMKz4lWKlyDTqMA50lrgCLcB/s1600/untitled-1856.JPG" /></a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00576235828118333463noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5737009762908926957.post-30754681452393379942015-06-23T09:30:00.000-07:002015-06-23T09:45:45.951-07:00Workshop: Visit Cuba with Lou Jones<br />
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Last week my sister returned from Cuba. Nothing especially
significant about that. She is not political or religious or a doctor.
She was just a tourist. Everybody is going to Cuba now that the embargo
has been relaxed. I am going back leading a photography tour on
September 13-20 th 2015. <br />
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Because Cuba is a political
football my first two excursions there were fraught with all kinds of
complications. In 1980 there was a brief loophole and I was employed by a
media group to document their fact-finding mission. Ostensibly they
were representing a large communications organization and arranged
audiences with newspapers, radio and television stations and government
officials. The hidden agenda was much more insidious. At the time I was
ignorant of their machinations but I was quickly made aware of the real
reasons. <br />
<br />
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The leaders dragged us from office to office,
municipal building to meeting room, where they expounded on how the
Cuban/Castro regime was failing democracy. I checked in at each
destination and after photographing the principals for a time, I snuck
out the back door and returned again as they were wrapping up. After a
few days people caught on to my antics and confronted me. They accused
me of being an anarchist. (I had to look it up.) However I felt it was
impossible to photograph Cuba trapped in dark rooms for the whole trip.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />
For hours I roamed the streets and back alleys of Havana
and Cienfuegos. Photographed without hindrance. Met scads of people who
surprised me with an absence of animosity towards Americans, their
“oppressors”, and the USA. I had expected a sort of “David and Goliath”
resentment. It taught me an enormous lesson. <br />
<br />
Being so
close to Florida, I enjoyed top ten hit music wafting from the tropical,
open windows in many shops and workplaces. In bad English people
regaled me with local color. They knew more about my country than I did
about theirs. There was genuine interest in their neighbors to the
North. Despite the language barrier we were able to communicate without
hindrance from governments or ideology.<br />
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<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O77XU2k4jXQ/VYjw3oOJBPI/AAAAAAAAB-k/Fyd9LVVMsgU/s1600/Cuba_Slides_015-blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O77XU2k4jXQ/VYjw3oOJBPI/AAAAAAAAB-k/Fyd9LVVMsgU/s320/Cuba_Slides_015-blog.jpg" width="320" /></a>My second trip
came after I had organized a tour with a group from Kansas City. After
months of planning and negotiating with the Department of the Treasury
to obtain permits and visas for everybody we were all set. Then 9/11.
The United States shut down. Every one of the participants cancelled.
Unfortunately I had made arrangements to have an exhibition of my
photographs at a major museum. I had to go. <br />
<br />
I trudged for
miles through a snowstorm that banned all transportation in Boston. I
delivered an impassioned plea to the president of a college to grant me a
permit to travel to Cuba. Since I had taught there in the past, I was
in Cuba with proper visas two weeks later. <br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
On assignment in Havana, Cuba, I heard music. It was across the street and <br />
far away. I couldn’t track down the source. As I got closer, the echo was <br />
bouncing off the tall buildings. It was amazing. Running back and forth I <br />
eventually got someone’s attention. He led me on a dead run into one of Old <br />
Havana’s famous condemned historical landmarks. I thought it was abandoned. <br />
Upon entering the lobby, I found it totally dark in the middle of the day. No light <br />
at all. My “guide” ran up the stairs with me in close pursuit. The circular <br />
staircase wound round and round. But soon I hit something. Hard. Since it was <br />
so black I had no idea the staircase was full of people. I couldn’t see a thing. I <br />
panicked. But I always carry a small flashlight on my keychain. I was able to <br />
stumble safely the several flights up to the band rehearsing on the top floor. <br />
Great photographs. <br />
---Lou Jones, travel+PHOTOGRAPHY: Off the Charts </blockquote>
<br />
I have rarely had such a good time traveling and concentrating on my <br />
photography
for such an extended period. I came back home, edited, curated,
printed, framed and delivered the exhibition in the nick of time. I am
hoping this third trip produces equally dramatic adventures once I am
there.<br />
<br />
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<br />
Cuba has been caught in a time warp. It is bound
to change. Hotels are already in scarce supply due to the number of
tourists flooding in. We are witnessing the end of an era. I am going
down again to document that momentous evolution.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://fotojones.com/link/workshop">For more Info... </a>Lou Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16401845988446927643noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5737009762908926957.post-43810290489580444912015-05-15T20:02:00.000-07:002015-05-19T21:24:13.839-07:00Two Kinds of Road Warriors <br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
Basically there are two
kinds of Road Warriors. The first you may know or, at least, have met.
Call him on the phone and he will meet you anywhere in the world that
serves food late at night. His name is Jim or Bob something. He is a
photographer who travels all the time. Even in the best of circumstances
that is no mean feat in today’s atmosphere. He may make a living taking
pictures or he may be a trust fund baby. He shoots for magazines, or
NGOs, or himself. He may not be smart but he’s smarter than God was at
his age. He can be erudite, articulate and his pictures are often
stunning. <br />
<br />
The second kind of Road Warrior has a name
spelled with all consonants or mostly vowels. But you won’t know him
anyway. His accent is indistinguishable. And no one knows where he lives
or even where he sleeps. But when you see his pictures you recognize
them immediately even though you have never seen them before. On any
rumored sighting he looks drab in different shades of winter brown. <br />
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<br />
All
working photographers exist so far off the grid that there is no word
for normal in their vocabulary. Being self-sufficient, not knowing where
your next meal or dollar will come from is enough to make anyone
cynical, but to be a Road Warrior you still have to be adroit at getting
the phone to ring. Jim or Bob may have reputations that precede them.
They get featured in interviews that profile their storied careers. Some
have won awards or adapted to social networking in between fanning out
all over the globe or chasing endangered species...animal, vegetable or
mineral. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-W5J0O1uauhY/VSEld8lbtYI/AAAAAAAAB7o/vkp0DnXosNQ/s1600/Lou_Jones_10.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="231" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-W5J0O1uauhY/VSEld8lbtYI/AAAAAAAAB7o/vkp0DnXosNQ/s1600/Lou_Jones_10.JPG" width="320" /></a>Rzx*%pqz’s pictures are of places that are
obscure, dangerous, legendary, bizarre…and in black/white. One such told
me that after his editor warned him she did not expect him to come
back, he was beaten, and had his cameras stolen. He lamented “they even
took my shoes”. He returned to the same location the next day with
pawnshop equipment and borrowed shoes. <br />
<br />
Being a Road
Warrior requires tenacity, stamina, flexibility and a desire for being
insecure. Some travel fast, some slow. Some enjoy creature comforts when
they can get them but others train to stay hard and sinuous. They move
from one civilization to the next without missing a beat. From one
language to cuneiform.<br />
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<br />
<br />
The first keeps his visas,
inoculations and passport up to date. Health and papers are his most
precious possessions besides photographs. He knows which wines to serve
with the fois gras. Which fork to use or how to properly eat with
chopsticks. Number two has been close to death’s door with
malaria...twice and lost his citizenship years ago. He drinks beer. He
still shoots film. And he has never been known to pick up a check.
Either may chase a cause, a dream, a whim, an assignment or romance in
the middle of a sentence. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v0_miMdagN4/VSEleGIOxgI/AAAAAAAAB7s/hAD4EjVtjt4/s1600/_DSC7914.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v0_miMdagN4/VSEleGIOxgI/AAAAAAAAB7s/hAD4EjVtjt4/s1600/_DSC7914.jpg" width="320" /></a>Their ethics are sketchy. I
watched one Road Warrior sneak thousands of dollars in gold in his
luggage through customs underneath a paper bag filled with greasy
homemade salami. The salamis were confiscated. The gold got through.
Another promised future earnings to his subjects then disappeared. Rules
are for tourists. <br />
<br />
Road Warriors work through pain, bad
weather, pestilence and conflict. Bob Dylan, Bob Marley or Will.I.Am
playing in the recesses of their brain. The first Road Warrior has
embraced the world but meets it on his terms. He utilizes technology and
the mechanisms that facilitate crossing alien frontiers. The second
moves in and out of the shadows. Everything he owns is in his pockets.
He does not trust you or your information but sizes you up and leases
your value in the first twenty seconds. Then suddenly you hear his voice
on the other end of the telephone with loud noises of gunfire or
television in the background. “How you doing?” without waiting for the
answer. He insists on a critical collaboration and then is gone like the
Lone Ranger.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fSjrLBUWoM0/VSEldfGPEcI/AAAAAAAAB7g/tU6U3CNqBoc/s1600/DSC_8422.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fSjrLBUWoM0/VSEldfGPEcI/AAAAAAAAB7g/tU6U3CNqBoc/s1600/DSC_8422.jpg" width="320" /></a>It is their mission to scourge the earth walking somewhere on the unlevel,
gray landscape or insinuating themselves between reality and fantasy.
It is futile for us to hope to live up to one while desiring to be the
other. <br />
<br />
If anyone lives through it eventually their scars
amount to a scab of memories and stories that were critical at the time
but only compelling in the telling. They laugh at some that were not
funny then and cry intestinal tears they have held in too long until
they realize the result.<br />
<br />
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Lou Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16401845988446927643noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5737009762908926957.post-24892773733860439942015-03-29T05:58:00.000-07:002015-03-31T06:01:20.828-07:00Emerson College Exhibit: Final Exposure<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Emerson College is exhibiting my photography<br /> <b>FINAL EXPOSURE: PORTRAITS FROM DEATH ROW</b><br /> Huret & Spector Gallery <br /> Tufte Building<br /> 10 Boylston Street 6th floor<span class="text_exposed_show"><br /> Boston Massachusetts <br /> reception: Friday 3 April 2015</span><span class="text_exposed_show"> 5-7pm</span></div>
Lou Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16401845988446927643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5737009762908926957.post-82486152197062665242015-02-28T05:04:00.000-08:002015-03-03T05:06:12.079-08:00How I introduced POLAROID to Japan<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<br />
How I introduced POLAROID to Japan
In the 1980s and early 1990s, I traveled to Japan every year “piggybacking” assignments for a diverse assortment of commercial and editorial entities. By sharing expenses amongst more than one client I could make it worthwhile for them to send me such a huge distance and for a lengthy period of time.<br />
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It was illegal for me to “import” my Balcar strobes into Japan because their regulations for electronic safety were more stringent than UL or OSHA. So I decided to try to rent approved strobe equipment in-country.<br />
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Before computers and faxes, communicating in a foreign language was difficult to say the least. Phones were almost impossible so most of my correspondence with Japanese subjects and companies was by mail...slow and painful. It often took weeks for my letters to shinny up the hierarchy, get approval and transmit the terms and conditions back to me.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8I_uKOGG49A/VPWuFYY_z1I/AAAAAAAAB3E/55zQu8rvd68/s1600/Japan001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8I_uKOGG49A/VPWuFYY_z1I/AAAAAAAAB3E/55zQu8rvd68/s1600/Japan001.jpg" height="400" width="261" /></a> I negotiated with a photography rental company in Tokyo for all the equipment I would need while I was there. My counterpart did not speak much English and I certainly had no command of Japanese. Somehow we forged a relationship. (The Japanese are very efficient and accommodating.)<br />
<br />
I lugged the Balcar monoblock lights all over Japan -- in taxis, subways, Shinkansen (bullet trains) and limousines. Up and down stairs, in and out of factories, to and fro executives and CEOs. During my first three week visit I kept booking more proprietary situations to photograph in the inner sanctums of Japanese technology. It was life changing even though the stress almost killed me. At the end I returned to the shop to pay for the extended usage of the rented lights. I thought it would cost me a fortune but they were so happy to work with a “gaijin” (bad slang loosely translated meaning foreigner or alien) that they gave me a discount.<br />
<br />
On my last day in Japan I was packing up. The agent spotted something unusual in my kit he had never seen before. “What’s that? he asked in broken English. It was my well-worn Polaroid back that fit my Nikon 35mm cameras. (Before digital cameras Road Warriors tested all their set-ups with special instant film that helped them previsualize what they then committed to film.)<br />
<br />
Surprised, I showed him how to use the crude peel-apart film that was becoming state-of-the-art for American commercial photographers. I had become so used to it in my annual report and magazine work I never imagined that everyone savvy in the business was not familiar with the amazing technique.<br />
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“Oh yes, this is essential in the States. As a matter of fact the company that manufactures them is local to me and I know the guys. Would you like me to put you in touch?” Using the antiquated but reliable mail system I followed through.<br />
<br />
I returned approximately the same time the following year to repeat my annual mission. This time I carried an assistant with me but still had to rent all my lighting stuff. We stayed even longer and criss-crossed the island nation several times. Learning to negotiate in such a complex environment taught me skills that literally changed my business. The education I received from maneuvering through the minefields of corporate Japan was invaluable. I
learned how to dress, how to talk, how to eat, how to get my way and have model releases signed in a foreign language and culture.<br />
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<br />
The first year I entered Japan the exchange rate was very advantageous to the American dollar but this time the governmental infighting made my buying power far less effective. So I fully expected an even bigger bill for the rental fee. When I returned to the shop I asked for the invoice. No charge. “What?” “Why?”<br />
<br />
I had completely forgotten my introduction across the Pacific. My friend had made a connection with the maker of Polaroid backs in the USA. He had become the exclusive distributer of them in the Pacific Rim. And I never paid a dime for lighting equipment in all the subsequent years I traveled to Japan.<br />
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Lou Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16401845988446927643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5737009762908926957.post-38433001562993306052014-10-04T09:02:00.000-07:002014-10-04T09:02:08.487-07:00CHASING JAMES BALDWIN: The Evolution of a Road Warrior<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Sophomore year in college I washed dishes for two semesters to pay for a ticket on a tramp steamer to hitchhike around Europe. I acted like a tourist, spoke high school French and stumbled around using a guidebook, “Europe On Five Dollars A Day.” I ate snails and learned about escargot. My first trip to Paris found me sleeping under bridges and it was exhilarating.<br />
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The second time I was traveling with my mentor, Jean Pierre, a fashion photographer who had immigrated to Boston, Massachusetts. (Aren’t all French photographers named Jean Pierre?) I had scored a sad little assignment from a publisher and my teacher had agreed to assume the role of my guide and assistant. I was photographing everything in sight. I was voracious. He took me back to his hometown and introduced me to the “real” France.<br />
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I dreamed of traveling and taking pictures but had no idea what that meant. The phrase “Road Warrior” did not even exist for me at the time. We met his extended family in small, remote villages. We explored his old haunts in “the City of Lights”. Everything was foreign to me; alien and delightful. Under his careful eye, I was learning about culture, protocol and adaptation. He told me stories about how French people recognized where people were from just by looking at their shoes. He taught me how to properly use a knife and fork while eating.<br />
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Inside a department store, a clerk asked me “parlez-vous Anglais?” with that acerbic, Gallic, attitude. Intimidated, I instinctively responded, “non!” I was not yet adroit enough to sidestep such rudeness. JP kicked me and said in his thick-accent stage whisper, “You speak English.” I was profoundly embarrassed.<br />
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The job required a local festival or celebration. We found ourselves observing a quaint, ancient religious procession. I jumped all over it. This event was exactly what I had imagined documenting. Jean Pierre leaned over my shoulder and mentioned that my interest and enthusiastic recording would cause fewer people to come the next year because I had exposed this tradition, this “oddity”. My attention was hastening its extinction.<br />
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After a week or two, we returned to Paris and he questioned why I hadn’t photographed the Eiffel Tower. With extreme hubris I retorted, “I don’t do Eiffel Towers.” Obviously I took myself too seriously and considered photographs of that clichéd symbol were beneath me. He insisted. I resisted. Every request for stock photography of Paris I received for the next decade included the Eiffel Tower.<br />
<br />
Eventually we found ourselves sitting at a cafe on a corner in Saint-Germain-des-Prés. Being an American, after a short while, I got restless. It was hard for me to sit idly for so long. I was not ready to adapt laissez faire: smoking cigarettes and drinking espresso so I excused myself and went off to photograph along the boulevard. When I returned he excitedly exclaimed that James Baldwin had just passed him a minute ago. Of course I chased off down the street looking into every storefront and alley. I ran for blocks.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-302wmw2JxMo/VDAXOSBIvdI/AAAAAAAABzY/JSbdqxp6qW4/s1600/Travel_Stock_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-302wmw2JxMo/VDAXOSBIvdI/AAAAAAAABzY/JSbdqxp6qW4/s1600/Travel_Stock_001.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
I never did meet James Baldwin. But I took photographs in a way that led me to a new way of life. What the trip lacked in bravura, it made up in authenticity. I had been schooled in journalistic responsibility. It was a simple time with no cataclysmic discoveries or pictures, just slow-burning revelations and enduring images. I had always been an outsider, even in my own country, but my first assignment overseas brought me home.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />Lou Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16401845988446927643noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5737009762908926957.post-88756892789537561192014-08-26T16:18:00.000-07:002014-08-26T16:18:45.346-07:00Dateline Tanzania: panAFRICAproject
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LDc5jnBDoEQ/U_0TMa2stYI/AAAAAAAABy0/FFIjy4cdzK8/s1600/13-08-21_Africa_Ghana-909_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LDc5jnBDoEQ/U_0TMa2stYI/AAAAAAAABy0/FFIjy4cdzK8/s1600/13-08-21_Africa_Ghana-909_2.jpg" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">After
years in the planning stages, my studio is pleased to announce that
our most ambitious project </span></span><a href="http://www.panafricaproject.org/"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">www.panAfricaproject.org</span></span></span></a><span style="font-family: Calibri, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
has officially launched. Although we are known for our long
term projects/books including, among others: six years on death row
inmates; Olympic games since 1984; twenty years of pregnant women;
and, most recently, documenting the building of a superskyscraper in
Boston (</span></span><a href="http://www.downtowncrossingproject.photography/"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">www.DowntownCrossingProject.photography</span></span></span></a><span style="font-family: Calibri, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">)
until 2016 – but none of these surpasses the scope of
(</span></span><a href="http://www.panafricaproject.org/"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">www.panAFRICAproject.org</span></span></span></a><span style="font-family: Calibri, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">).</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<a name='more'></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-efJQKLRZ2pw/U_0TOeWWoyI/AAAAAAAAByg/GZn8H-i_F60/s1600/DSC_6818.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-efJQKLRZ2pw/U_0TOeWWoyI/AAAAAAAAByg/GZn8H-i_F60/s1600/DSC_6818.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1MFCzaaLJVw/U_0TNuGJplI/AAAAAAAAByU/OZr0Y4DP5kM/s1600/DSC_1651.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1MFCzaaLJVw/U_0TNuGJplI/AAAAAAAAByU/OZr0Y4DP5kM/s1600/DSC_1651.jpg" height="204" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">What
do you think of when you conjure up Africa in your mind?
Perhaps safaris: lions and elephants -- maybe the ecology of the vast
continent? Most likely, you think of what is most often portrayed in
Western media: conflict, pestilence and poverty. We are
over here to photograph the "other" Africa. The vast
majority of millions and millions of people go about their lives
contributing to a rich, ancient civilization and </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">vibrant,</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">contemporary
culture. We are seeking to document all aspects of local traditions,
economy, entrepreneurship, medicine, education, and media.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JVfa2uGg7tI/U_0TLvHl_SI/AAAAAAAABx8/8LvX4SlpVUw/s1600/13-08-21_Africa_Ghana-65%2Bcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JVfa2uGg7tI/U_0TLvHl_SI/AAAAAAAABx8/8LvX4SlpVUw/s1600/13-08-21_Africa_Ghana-65%2Bcopy.jpg" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">There
are 54 separate and distinct countries on this continent. Each has
its own personality. Step by step we are trying to find the myriad
voices of Africa through photography-the universal language. Last
year we</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> performed
</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">the litmus
test and documented Ghana. This summer we are covering
Tanzania. The algorithm for how the next location is chosen is skewed
so that powerful, newsworthy countries have the same chance as the
smaller, emerging ones. With each new country we learn a whole
new timetable, temperature and rhythm; protocols, regulations,
etiquettes and, most importantly, each country has a new way of being
photographed.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0J5CrGvwGB0/U_0TLUpr5SI/AAAAAAAABx4/efRh1ANvTzk/s1600/13-08-21_Africa_Ghana-362%2Bcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0J5CrGvwGB0/U_0TLUpr5SI/AAAAAAAABx4/efRh1ANvTzk/s1600/13-08-21_Africa_Ghana-362%2Bcopy.jpg" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Covering
Ghana in just less than three weeks I was able to gain access to a
radio station, computer manufacturing company and furniture makers.
I had to travel for two days on unpaved, red clay roads to reach an
emerging clinic that services two hundred patients a day. We brought
in new medical supplies as the single doctor and multiple nurses
treated malaria, pregnancy and assorted ailments, which are not
typical outside the region. I followed the unique coffin artisans who
are commissioned to make "containers" that reflect the life
and wishes of the deceased. These final resting places are extremely
fanciful, elaborate and one-of-a-kind.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3Fapnk3FHQY/U_0TMDT7vaI/AAAAAAAAByE/fBHVwyO9uNU/s1600/13-08-21_Africa_Ghana-661.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3Fapnk3FHQY/U_0TMDT7vaI/AAAAAAAAByE/fBHVwyO9uNU/s1600/13-08-21_Africa_Ghana-661.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Sr6NPV0roaE/U_0TM15joNI/AAAAAAAAByI/enh3wfcTgzs/s1600/DSC_0294.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Sr6NPV0roaE/U_0TM15joNI/AAAAAAAAByI/enh3wfcTgzs/s1600/DSC_0294.jpg" height="214" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Some
stories are big, most are small. Everything is a metaphor. We email,
telephone, text, Skype every lead to find local people who have old
and new stories. Eventually after we have a large enough sampling of
issues, we hope to visually tackle more abstract subjects as
migration, water, tribes, and weather. We also have plans to include
photographs from local photographers who live amongst the stories and
have taken them on i</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">n</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
depth.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This
year in Tanzania we tracked the uneasy relationship of tribes such as
the nomadic Maasai, who were displaced from the huge game preserves.
Animal conservation seems to be a natural idea until it is revealed
that the government exiled many peoples from their homelands. Safaris
are a huge part of the economy but human rights issues are
contentious.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hmQlVz6rLHE/U_0TOJm4--I/AAAAAAAAByo/bj7f5YFPRtM/s1600/DSC_1767.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hmQlVz6rLHE/U_0TOJm4--I/AAAAAAAAByo/bj7f5YFPRtM/s1600/DSC_1767.jpg" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Modern
technology has increased the studio's ability to fund and display our
output. When we first had the idea of</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>
panAFRICAproject.org</b></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
we were limited as to what we could do. Social networking has allowed
us to display and update our progress almost in "real time".
We have been able to use FACEBOOK and Twitter when we find good
WIFI and cell service. Over the years we have built better "travel
muscles" so as to remain healthy, energetic, and creative with
the breakneck schedule.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7_MMudtJa_8/U_0TNVvGcII/AAAAAAAAByQ/Lv9ag6xSSsw/s1600/DSC_0580.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7_MMudtJa_8/U_0TNVvGcII/AAAAAAAAByQ/Lv9ag6xSSsw/s1600/DSC_0580.jpg" height="247" width="320" /></a> </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We
find some</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
cultures are reluctant to be photographed. Some people want to be
paid. Some are suspicious of our intentions. Adapting shooting
techniques accordingly has been part of the fun.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In
the midst of wars in DRC, HIV in South Africa, disparity between the
"haves and have nots" in the fastest growing economy in the
world of Ghana and the epidemic of Ebola in Liberia,
</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>#panAFRICAproject</b></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
is in its next phase: documenting progress and all the positives
of the “other “ Africa. </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tqC05X6YJA8/U_0TLnKOwUI/AAAAAAAAByA/89QTa6J_HQs/s1600/13-08-21_Africa_Ghana-342%2Bcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tqC05X6YJA8/U_0TLnKOwUI/AAAAAAAAByA/89QTa6J_HQs/s1600/13-08-21_Africa_Ghana-342%2Bcopy.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span>
</div>
Lou Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16401845988446927643noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5737009762908926957.post-83629202594822927922014-05-31T18:58:00.000-07:002014-06-02T18:59:44.048-07:00Model Releases<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5CFwtjLzBZw/U40nRpAWk-I/AAAAAAAABrI/IpUmti_wB7Y/s1600/14-03-23_Model_Workshop_-250.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5CFwtjLzBZw/U40nRpAWk-I/AAAAAAAABrI/IpUmti_wB7Y/s1600/14-03-23_Model_Workshop_-250.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;">In
the world of photography, much has been said and argued about model
releases. They have been debated in courtrooms and on forums and in
the faint light of dive bars frequented by photographers. Experts
have written books about the issue and pundits have disseminated vast
misinformation. Editors and designers are afraid of the legal
ramifications. Although there is a legal need for model
releases, the law remains vague.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Yife0iKB7TM/U40mcD5z14I/AAAAAAAABq0/F6sMkt95tNc/s1600/13-11-07_Aetna_New_Jersey_312.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Yife0iKB7TM/U40mcD5z14I/AAAAAAAABq0/F6sMkt95tNc/s1600/13-11-07_Aetna_New_Jersey_312.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a><span style="color: black;"><b>Spoiler
alert: I am not a lawyer so do not take any of this as gospel.</b></span><span style="color: black;">
While we have been working with experts for years, you should consult
your lawyer as your case may be very different and unique. </span></span></span>
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;">In
my way of thinking, usage of a photograph has to do with intent. You
encourage the most scrutiny if you are using someone's
image in a way that implies they are endorsing an idea or product or
that they are involved when they are not. In those cases it may be
necessary to have a release because you may have a problem if the
people being featured object. It has nothing to do with profit or
payment or money changing hands. </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;">Editorial
usage is usually exempt. Federal law permits news gathering
institutions to use photography without consent. You can also
exhibit, publish art books, sell prints, etc. without releases.
Stock agencies sometimes will reject photography that does not have
proper releases, but it is often overkill. They just don't want
the hassle. Also, they feel that not having model releases may limit
the long term saleability of a picture.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;">In
my early years I knew practically nothing about model
releases, but I quickly learned the hard way. At first I
bought and used the standard model releases published by
associations. They seemed to be pages long, full of complexity,
legalese and intimidating. When I was shooting annual reports and
corporate brochures, it was always a long discussion every time I
stuck the unfamiliar document under the nose of a factory worker or
office employee. It was an even graver matter to ask an executive to
sign it. They were always suspicious and asked to have the paper
reviewed by the legal department. This defeated the whole purpose of
asking for model releases. On top of that, no one ever returned it to
you. Ever. So my studio was forever chasing our subjects to send
in the paperwork before we could use the images.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rgbhzQfipM4/U40mcPAV8TI/AAAAAAAABq4/PCLgRD3qzo4/s1600/14-03-23_Model_Workshop_-289.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rgbhzQfipM4/U40mcPAV8TI/AAAAAAAABq4/PCLgRD3qzo4/s1600/14-03-23_Model_Workshop_-289.jpg" /></a></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;">The
denouement finally came when I was imploring workers where English
was not their first language. I had the managers and foremen explain
it, but realized the workers did not fully understand and
felt that their job might be in jeopardy if they did not sign. </span></span>
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;">Since
I did not want to be party to such tactics, I talked to a lawyer and
we came up with my "Miranda version" of the model release.
While we still use the old fashioned kind in the
appropriate situations, we now spell out our reasons in one
sentence, in clear, simple language. It works well with both
rank and file and top tier executives. We trade some protections for
a simplification of the process. We want people to know what they are
getting into in order to make a more informed decision.</span></span><br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-45FDXScBHe0/U40n1mly6NI/AAAAAAAABrQ/EuzrobhFBpM/s1600/Model_Releases001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-45FDXScBHe0/U40n1mly6NI/AAAAAAAABrQ/EuzrobhFBpM/s1600/Model_Releases001.jpg" height="204" width="320" /></a><span style="color: black;">For
most of my career I have had the good fortune to travel overseas for
many of my projects. But being on foreign soil calls my motives
into far greater question. In other countries the laws are different.
The rights to privacy may change. Just photographing in certain
places may be forbidden. At first we had the model releases
translated into the mother tongue. Although this was very costly I
thought it was the right thing to do. However this just made it more
confusing. For many cultures signing model releases is alien. Some
subjects had no idea what we were doing. So we resorted to the
</span><span style="color: black;"><i>Mirandized</i></span><span style="color: black;">
release and asked someone to just tell them it is permission to
use the photograph and explain what it says.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;">In
the USA you must be of age to sign legal documents. So for underage
children, a parent or guardian must sign for them. Of course this
leads to all kinds of problems. On an assignment in Brazil, we had a
huge crew with the product and lighting and makeup artist out in a
public place to finish a magazine ad. On the sidelines we were
hassled by a young shoeshine boy who saw us as an opportunity to make
some money. He would not leave us alone. A light bulb went off over
my head. Put him in the picture. He was perfect for ambiance. But
then we spent all day tracking his parents down. I took a huge risk.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;">No
model release will protect you if you misuse the photograph, i.e. if
you slander the people in the picture or insinuate facts or rumors
that are not in evidence or make them look bad. They will sue and
they will win.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1z-_cCiSnFc/U40mcOSSaxI/AAAAAAAABqw/e1-e0MZdKNk/s1600/13-11-07_Aetna_New_Jersey_316.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1z-_cCiSnFc/U40mcOSSaxI/AAAAAAAABqw/e1-e0MZdKNk/s1600/13-11-07_Aetna_New_Jersey_316.jpg" /></a></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;">Once
upon a time we had a case where a stock photograph was sold to a
company for a lot of money and the photograph was used in ads and
billboards, etc. It was a very good sale for us that continued for
years. When it was published double page spread in a national
newspaper, the mother of one of the little girls in the picture
called my client and threatened to sue. They referred her to the ad
agency that in turn referred them to me. I reminded the woman she had
signed a release and had been paid. She did not have a leg to stand
on. She informed me her husband was a lawyer and he was going to make
my life miserable because they wanted more money. We paid.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;">Resources:</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><a href="https://asmp.org/tutorials/simplified-model-release.html#.U40phijih8Q">ASMP</a> has several sample releases for most needs plus resources on using and acquiring them. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><a href="http://www.docracy.com/">Docracy </a>is a site where you can get all kinds of releases made available by other photographers/lawyers</span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></span></span></div>
Lou Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16401845988446927643noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5737009762908926957.post-45872214322867446142014-03-28T14:11:00.000-07:002014-03-28T14:12:04.497-07:00The Chimp Sheet : Pixel Peeping<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oOcmPNB4AV8/UzTkcF0T96I/AAAAAAAABok/lTdix0CvZUQ/s1600/13-04-19_St_Vincint_Judy_Stevens_069.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oOcmPNB4AV8/UzTkcF0T96I/AAAAAAAABok/lTdix0CvZUQ/s1600/13-04-19_St_Vincint_Judy_Stevens_069.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div>
<span id="ecxrole_document" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span id="ecxrole_document" style="color: black; font-family: Arial;"><i>CHIMPING, verb 1) In digital photography, the group or individual
activity after taking a picture </i></span></span></div>
<span id="ecxrole_document" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span id="ecxrole_document" style="color: black; font-family: Arial;">
</span></span>
<br />
<div>
<span id="ecxrole_document" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span id="ecxrole_document" style="color: black; font-family: Arial;"><i>of reviewing the results on the LCD & admiring the results with
"ooh ooh ahh ahh" similar to </i></span></span></div>
<span id="ecxrole_document" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"><span id="ecxrole_document" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span></span>
<br />
<div>
<span id="ecxrole_document" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"><span id="ecxrole_document" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>monkey or ape's vocalizations. 2) The act of gaining sexual pleasure by
throwing ones </i></span></span></span></div>
<span id="ecxrole_document" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"><span id="ecxrole_document" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span></span><br />
<div>
<span id="ecxrole_document" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"><span id="ecxrole_document" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>excrement...</i></span></span></span></div>
<span id="ecxrole_document" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"><span id="ecxrole_document" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div>
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div>
<span style="font-size: small;">In 2013AD (After Digital) much about photography has changed dramatically.
For over 150 years the time between taking a photograph & seeing the
pictures has varied widely but always seemed <i>interminable</i>. If we
processed glass plates or celluloid negatives ourselves, it might be hours but
if we had to send it off to some anonymous lab it could be days, weeks, months,
years before we laid eyes on the final product. </span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div>
</div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div>
<span style="font-size: small;">With digital we gained the advantage of faster results. Quicker than a
"Polaroid Minute". INSTANT GRATIFICATION. Not only has it given experts much
greater control over the final result but it makes taking pictures more
accessible to the average person.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div>
</div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div>
<span style="font-size: small;">Today everybody's a photographer. BILLIONS of images are being taken &
viewed & uploaded to computer networks. Not all of them GOOD pictures--but
more. Although my colleagues complain that this diminishes the artform, it is an
amazing, global phenomenon. By default, because of its power, photography is the
most important visual medium in the world. It overrides language, cost,
distribution & ease of everything else: books, newspapers, television, etc.
</span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div>
</div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div>
<span style="font-size: small;">However our new found dependency on our LCDs has become almost as obsessive
as our cell phone screens. Watching the social dynamics of professionals &
amateurs bent over their camerabacks chimping is amusement in itself. Pointing
fingers at two or more shutterbugs rapt in an ersatz "mutual admiration society"
is a comedy skit.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div>
</div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Old timers wax nostalgic. Some resent the LCD. It is seen as a crutch &
interrupts the rhythm of photography. It also destroys the mystique of
photocreation. I think that romantic image is wonderful but I have adapted to
being able to see if my ideas are not only viable but <i>worthy</i> of
pursuing. I no longer have to spend 3-4 rolls of film hoping that my timing is
on the button. I can "smash & grab" with increased efficiency.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div>
<span style="font-size: small;">The increase in feedback, quality & convenience that the LCD &
histogram have afforded us can never be ignored. We can see composition,
lighting, focus & exposure at a glance. But another byproduct that that is
of great importance to professionals is <i>aspect ratio</i>. </span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div>
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><i>ASPECT RATIO in an image describes the proportional relationship
between its height & width. </i></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div>
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k7QD8VXbIlc/UzTkiBkhvmI/AAAAAAAABos/782GqXrjE5E/s1600/_DSC8772.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k7QD8VXbIlc/UzTkiBkhvmI/AAAAAAAABos/782GqXrjE5E/s1600/_DSC8772.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Purists may insist they never crop their photographs. Therefore they are
displayed exactly the way they are taken, imperfections & all. But sometimes
more commercial usages need to fit into a predescribed space which requires
resizing the original out of necessity. Graphic designers love to manipulate our
photographs to accommodate well crafted layouts. Assignments often come with very
tight specifications. And the professional photographer "shoots to" those
layouts to get the most out of his/her efforts. Photography has to compete for
space with words, charts, typography, illustration & advertising & must
present maximum impact. Great design can come from unusual aspect ratios.
Square, extreme horizontal or verticals. Covers, double trucks are the most
common but graphic designers can be very capricious. </span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div>
</div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div>
<span style="font-size: small;">In these kinds of assignments it is the photographer's responsibility to
position all people, models, products, props into the right places. We do not
want important type to be illegible any more than headlines to interfere with
peak action, page gutters to cut through faces or products lopped off. Clients
have no sense of humor.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div>
<span style="font-size: small;">For many jobs I love working from layouts. It is like learning to "color
between the lines". It takes a lot of the guesswork out of the creative process
& concentrates your vision. In fact, over the years, I have found that the
more I am restricted, the more imaginative I can become. It is counterintuitive
but it really works. </span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div>
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j-tpUCX60S8/UzTkbiv7RBI/AAAAAAAABoc/izAXNeO9ups/s1600/13-10-12_Aetna_NY-188.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j-tpUCX60S8/UzTkbiv7RBI/AAAAAAAABoc/izAXNeO9ups/s1600/13-10-12_Aetna_NY-188.JPG" /></a></div>
<div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Therefore we must figure out makeshift ways to oversee aspect ratios. If we
are working tethered to a laptop, it is a simple matter of cropping a large
image right on the screen & seeing if it all fits. But in more fluid
environments, a USB cord tying us to our computers may not be practical. We
often have to work from the back of our cameras. (In the old days we would fold
up a Polaroid very carefully to be assured we were correct.) But digital allows
us to do all that faster & better. We can see the image right away. Chimping
allows us to see the cropped picture immediately too. </span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div>
</div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div>
<span style="font-size: small;">For decades designers have cut little pieces of paper & cardboard into
rectangles so they can size artwork. And we are not the first to adopt that
technique to photography. But my assistant has named the stencil-like apparatus
a <i>chimp sheet</i>. Before we go out on a job we request the dimensions of
the layout from the designers & using simple mathematics we construct the
different chimp sheets we will need. </span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div>
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><i>unknown height of chimp sheet/width of LCD=height of layout image/width
of layout image ie</i></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div>
<i>x/LCD=H/W</i></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div>
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div>
<span style="font-size: small;">Since you are looking at a small screen on the back of your camera,
millimeters can make the difference between a great ad & a rejected
"almost". We precisely matteknife the cuts into stiff, colorful construction
paper & they fold right into my wallet for the duration.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DftI2mCpuVk/UzTm2xqe2ZI/AAAAAAAABo4/zrBCVsYJBis/s1600/_DSC8780.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: small;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DftI2mCpuVk/UzTm2xqe2ZI/AAAAAAAABo4/zrBCVsYJBis/s1600/_DSC8780.jpg" /></span></a></div>
</div>
</span></span>Lou Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16401845988446927643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5737009762908926957.post-32592107837192188092013-09-06T00:01:00.000-07:002013-09-08T00:03:16.491-07:00Gallery Show: Every Color Has A Different Song
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Every
Color Has A Different Song</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Photographs
by Lou Jones</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Roxbury
Community College</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">September
9</span></span><sup><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">th_</span></span></sup><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">October
4</span></span><sup><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">th</span></span></sup><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
2013</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Opening
Reception: September 12</span></span><sup><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">th</span></span></sup><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
6-8 pm</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Joan
Resnikoff Gallery, RCC</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> 123
Columbus Avenue</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Roxbury,
MA</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eBZvyAeapiA/Uiwgx_PIFrI/AAAAAAAABeY/2U4jfKz7Xbk/s1600/invit_jones1.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eBZvyAeapiA/Uiwgx_PIFrI/AAAAAAAABeY/2U4jfKz7Xbk/s1600/invit_jones1.gif" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br /></div>
<a name='more'></a><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Immediately
upon exiting the plane from Ghana, West Africa and entering my studio
after several weeks away, I received a phone call: "Can you put
up a show of your photographs next week?" Usually we book
exhibitions months, years in advance. This was going to be a problem
and not just because of my jet lag. My staff launched into
hyper-drive and got all the details out of the way in two/three days.
The curators, Mirta Tocci and Marshall Hughes, came to the studio and
selected the pictures with appropriate speed.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Several
years ago, one of my assistants yelled something garbled across the
studio. It sounded to me like "every color has a different
song". I thought they were brilliant, but it was merely a
mistake. However a body of work, which has expanded and
contracted with the size of the gallery and with my continuing
international travel, emerged.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Taken
nearly always on assignment around the USA or an alien country, the
images are mostly encountered in provocative environments, but
the moments are fleeting and extemporaneous. They are photographs of
people who are fugitives in their worlds, who have little or no voice
or are unaware of their contributions.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Despite
the rush, a great exhibit is now on display at RCC from
September 9</span></span><sup><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">th</span></span></sup><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
- October 4</span></span><sup><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">th</span></span></sup><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">.
Please join us for the opening reception: at the Joan Resnikoff
Gallery in the Media Arts Building, 1234 Columbus Avenue, Roxbury,
Massachusetts on Thursday 12 September 2013 from 6-8pm.</span></span></div>
Lou Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16401845988446927643noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5737009762908926957.post-67159882961404933792013-08-10T19:56:00.000-07:002013-08-12T19:58:41.689-07:00Collecting Photographers: Jay Maisel<div class="Paragraph SCX138921634" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-family: 'Segoe UI',Tahoma,Verdana,'Sans-Serif'; font-size: 6pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span class="TextRun SCX138921634" style="font-family: Arial,Sans-Serif; font-size: 13pt; line-height: 21px;"><span class="NormalTextRun SCX138921634" style="background-color: inherit;"> </span></span><span class="EOP SCX138921634" style="font-family: Arial,Sans-Serif; font-size: 13pt; line-height: 21px;"> </span></div>
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<div class="Paragraph SCX138921634" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-family: 'Segoe UI',Tahoma,Verdana,'Sans-Serif'; font-size: 6pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TOGvoXpczUA/Ugmdypxq0wI/AAAAAAAABaw/JDxMLG_z2ds/s1600/Jay-Maisel.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TOGvoXpczUA/Ugmdypxq0wI/AAAAAAAABaw/JDxMLG_z2ds/s1600/Jay-Maisel.png" /></a><span class="TextRun SCX138921634" style="font-family: Arial,Sans-Serif; font-size: 13pt; line-height: 21px;"><span class="NormalTextRun SCX138921634" style="background-color: inherit;">My
assistant and I were racing, doing almost 80mph on two lane roads.
Driving directly north. Risking life and limb. Obviously we were in a
hurry.</span></span><span class="EOP SCX138921634" style="font-family: Arial,Sans-Serif; font-size: 13pt; line-height: 21px;"> </span></div>
</div>
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<span class="TextRun SCX138921634" style="font-family: Arial,Sans-Serif; font-size: 13pt; line-height: 21px;"><span class="NormalTextRun SCX138921634" style="background-color: inherit;"> </span></span><span class="EOP SCX138921634" style="font-family: Arial,Sans-Serif; font-size: 13pt; line-height: 21px;"> </span></div>
</div>
<div class="OutlineElement Ltr SCX138921634" style="margin-left: 0px; text-indent: 0px;">
<div class="Paragraph SCX138921634" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-family: 'Segoe UI',Tahoma,Verdana,'Sans-Serif'; font-size: 6pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span class="TextRun SCX138921634" style="font-family: Arial,Sans-Serif; font-size: 13pt; line-height: 21px;"><span class="NormalTextRun SCX138921634" style="background-color: inherit;">I
had been teaching commercial photography at the <a href="http://www.mainemedia.edu/">MAINE PHOTOGRAPHIC WORKSHOP</a> all week but I got a special assignment back in Boston that I
could not pass up. My assistant and I drove down late the night before
the job and were well rested for the early morning shoot. The only
problem was I was supposed to present at the weekly "all-campus" lecture
that same night. We finished the shoot a little late and set out on the
long journey back to Rockport, Maine. Traffic was terrible. We crept
along behind vacationing tourists, slow moving RVs and an inadequate
highway system.</span></span><span class="EOP SCX138921634" style="font-family: Arial,Sans-Serif; font-size: 13pt; line-height: 21px;"> </span></div>
<div class="Paragraph SCX138921634" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-family: 'Segoe UI',Tahoma,Verdana,'Sans-Serif'; font-size: 6pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<br /></div>
<a name='more'></a></div>
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<span class="TextRun SCX138921634" style="font-family: Arial,Sans-Serif; font-size: 13pt; line-height: 21px;"><span class="NormalTextRun SCX138921634" style="background-color: inherit;">For
several years I had been secretly documenting men and women
incarcerated on death rows all over the USA. The only people who knew
were my studio employees. At the last minute we decided we would reveal
the project to the world that week at MPW. We labored over a slideshow
and audio as I planned to surprise the audience with something they
would never expect.</span></span><span class="EOP SCX138921634" style="font-family: Arial,Sans-Serif; font-size: 13pt; line-height: 21px;"> </span></div>
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<span class="TextRun SCX138921634" style="font-family: Arial,Sans-Serif; font-size: 13pt; line-height: 21px;"><span class="NormalTextRun SCX138921634" style="background-color: inherit;">But
we were stuck on Route 1. Just in case, my staff had a contingency
plan. If I did not make it back in time, my rep, Lorie Savel, would go
on in my place. She was integrally involved with the whole social
documentary and since she had followed me into many of the prisons, she
had the appropriate gravitas and stage presence to pull it off.</span></span><span class="EOP SCX138921634" style="font-family: Arial,Sans-Serif; font-size: 13pt; line-height: 21px;"> </span></div>
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<span class="TextRun SCX138921634" style="font-family: Arial,Sans-Serif; font-size: 13pt; line-height: 21px;"><span class="NormalTextRun SCX138921634" style="background-color: inherit;">My
long suffering assistant, who had been with me on many ad campaigns and
annual report shoots, broke every traffic law in Maine. But time was
working against us. No cell phones in those days and we dared not pull
over to call because who would answer? We plowed on at breakneck speeds,
weaving in and out on back roads. I ran up the steep staircase to
the auditorium. The lights were already off. I took the microphone out
of Lorie's hand and began the long saga of photographing inside prisons.</span></span><span class="EOP SCX138921634" style="font-family: Arial,Sans-Serif; font-size: 13pt; line-height: 21px;"> </span></div>
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<span class="TextRun SCX138921634" style="font-family: Arial,Sans-Serif; font-size: 13pt; line-height: 21px;"><span class="NormalTextRun SCX138921634" style="background-color: inherit;">To stunned silence at the end</span></span><span class="TextRun SCX138921634" style="font-family: Arial,Sans-Serif; font-size: 13pt; line-height: 21px;"><span class="NormalTextRun SCX138921634" style="background-color: inherit;">,</span></span><span class="TextRun SCX138921634" style="font-family: Arial,Sans-Serif; font-size: 13pt; line-height: 21px;"><span class="NormalTextRun SCX138921634" style="background-color: inherit;">
I opened the floor to questions. One of the questions inspired my
response, "Well, as <a href="http://www.jaymaisel.com/">Jay Maisel</a> always said, 'f/8 and be there.' " Out of
the total darkness except for light from the projector shining on the
screen, came a deep voice: "No I didn't." My hero Jay Maisel was in
attendance that night. I was mortified. We argued over the efficacy
of capital punishment for quite a while after the lecture. Despite our
differences we have been good friends ever since.</span></span><span class="EOP SCX138921634" style="font-family: Arial,Sans-Serif; font-size: 13pt; line-height: 21px;"> </span></div>
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Lou Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16401845988446927643noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5737009762908926957.post-71646913301731522142013-06-21T20:04:00.000-07:002013-06-24T20:15:59.243-07:00Rivers: Every Where The Rivers Flow I Will Go.
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_igrgUbISE0/UckIo9qIIDI/AAAAAAAABYc/tgzBPyVbsCU/s1600/Turkey_002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_igrgUbISE0/UckIo9qIIDI/AAAAAAAABYc/tgzBPyVbsCU/s1600/Turkey_002.jpg" /></a></div>
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<br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Like
"<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C7_g1oqarlg&feature=c4-overview&list=UUtFfZwAKrqWSNSTYuimairQ">Skylines</a>" </span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">
wherever I travel I try to photograph the uneasy relationship of
urban environments with the bodies of water near them: oceans,
lakes, waterfalls, etc. Many major metropolises are
situated on famous rivers. Areas, regions, countries,
continents are defined by the rivers that run through them.
Whole civilizations exist because they developed on a river. Many
have flourish, but some have perished. Agriculture, industry,
transportation and technology have relied on their vagaries. Seasons
and epochs have been measured against their ebb and flow. Art and
romance and song feature them significantly. They are the arteries of
our planet.</span></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Each
river I have visited is famous long before I arrived. Songs have been
sung, myths have grown. Each has contributed in the history and
growth of its region in such a way that the two are often synonymous.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"> </span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>The
river is everywhere</i></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">--Hermann
Hesse</span></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"> </span><span style="color: black;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>A
river is alive. Day and night it flows. Every moment it grows and
every moment it is gone.</i></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">--Manuel
Bandeira, </span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Life
is a River</i></span></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br />
</div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">These
are some of the most notable from my extensive collection:</span></span></span></div>
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<a name='more'></a><br />
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Mississippi</b></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">2340
miles (3766 kilometers)</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The
"Muddy Mississippi", "Ol' Man River", "Proud
Mary" is the centerpiece of the second largest watershed in
the world. It has tributaries from 33 US states and 2 Canadian
provinces. In excess of 175 million tons of freight are shipped on it
yearly. I have photographed it since the early days of my
career.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"> </span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>The
Mississippi River will always have its own way; no engineering skill
can persuade it to do </i></span></span></span>
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>otherwise...</i></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">--Mark
Twain</span></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zvGi52BAOCE/UckA2EdZI2I/AAAAAAAABXU/5g4cGkEryMs/s1600/missi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zvGi52BAOCE/UckA2EdZI2I/AAAAAAAABXU/5g4cGkEryMs/s1600/missi.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">My
connotations of the Mississippi are forever entangled with Tom
Sawyer and Mark Twain. My mother read me those books when I was a
child. Eventually, I found myself aboard a riverboat with oil
refineries and factories swiftly floating by. Disconnected from land,
captive of the man-made vessel, adrift, I conjured the Manifest
Destiny that pushed America from the right shore to the left. I moved
across it in hours; the original explorers took decades.</span></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1DL0-t3K2rc/UckA2lmfRbI/AAAAAAAABXo/YxNEzOi6J-M/s1600/rio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1DL0-t3K2rc/UckA2lmfRbI/AAAAAAAABXo/YxNEzOi6J-M/s320/rio.jpg" width="213" /></a><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Rio
Grande</b></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">1900
miles (3058 kilometers)</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The
Rio Grande flows from southern Rocky Mountains to the Gulf of Mexico
and serves as a natural border between Texas and Mexico. Crossing the
river was the escape route used by Texas slaves seeking freedom. The
major illicit traffic now goes in the opposite direction.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"> </span><span style="color: black;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Hopping
the fence or wading the Rio Grande River isn't part of America's
immigration process.</i></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">--Ted
Nugent</span></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">My
last encounter with the Rio Grande was right on the border of
USA/Mexico. What is pictured as a raging, powerful tributary is
merely an emaciated, debris-filled trickle by the time it
crosses the frontier. Politics, water usage, ecology and greed reduce
its volume before it gets to our neighbor to the south. We
export pollution and disease on this historical resource.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Nile</b></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">4132
miles (6650 kilometers)</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Egypt
is the Gift of the Nile. It is a major topic of legends and religious
affiliations. Nearly all Egyptians live within a few miles of its
banks. It is the longest river in the world and is visible from
space. One of its most unique properties is that it flows south to
north. And although typically connected to Egypt, it travels through
ten countries.</span></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Denial
ain't just a river in Egypt</i></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">--Mark
Twain</span></span></span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i8awUP3_X5A/UckA2oftHqI/AAAAAAAABYI/z1_mRJHX1zc/s1600/nile.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i8awUP3_X5A/UckA2oftHqI/AAAAAAAABYI/z1_mRJHX1zc/s1600/nile.jpg" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">I
learned about the Nile as early as fourth grade. Teachers taught
about the dawn of civilization on its banks. Biblical references,
novels and textbooks abounded with stories. Then I flew from Cairo to
Aswan tracing the course over the river. From 20 thousand feet
there was desert as far as the eye could see in both directions. The
only vegetation was maybe ten miles on either bank of the Nile.
Very bizarre. It was the pulse of ancient times laid out in
verdant green just below me. On water level, I was fascinated by the
feluccas sailing by. They were a throwback to long lost traditions.</span></span></span></div>
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<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Charles</b></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w4pl_X0zqBA/UckA19zgZWI/AAAAAAAABXg/wowYTlx0FGY/s1600/charles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w4pl_X0zqBA/UckA19zgZWI/AAAAAAAABXg/wowYTlx0FGY/s320/charles.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">80
miles (129 kilometers)</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">This
river flows through my adopted city of Boston. The two are the same.
A crown jewel of New England, Brandeis, Harvard, Boston University
and MIT are all located along the Charles. It is named after King
Charles I of England. Since 1928, a boat can row under a train that
is passing under a car that is driving below an airplane at the
Boston University Bridge on the Charles.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"> </span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Down
by the banks of the river Charles</i></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>That's
where you'll find me</i></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Along
with lovers, muggers and thieves</i></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">--Standells</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Over
the years I have run along the banks of the River Charles,
photographed on its shores, floated on its waters and fallen in love
there. I have taken advantage of the scenic view summer, fall, winter
and spring. I have made pictures of Fourth of July celebrations,
concerts and races. I guess I have made more money from the Charles
than any other body of water in the world.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QgK1EpogcBE/UckA3WmRtDI/AAAAAAAABYA/6T2dVU-V2WM/s1600/thames.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QgK1EpogcBE/UckA3WmRtDI/AAAAAAAABYA/6T2dVU-V2WM/s320/thames.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Thames</b></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">215
miles (346 kilometers)</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">London,
from ancient times, built up around the Thames. It was the highway
for transporting people and goods. It is the heart of England and
English history. Shakespeare refers to it often. It is the home of
zero meridian of longitude.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>TWENTY
bridges from Tower to Kew-</i></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Wanted
to know what the River knew,</i></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Twenty
Bridges or twenty-two,</i></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>For
they were young, and the Thames was old</i></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>And
this is the tale that River told:</i></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">--Rudyard
Kipling</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">My
first sighting of the river of Shakespeare was a summer away from
college. I was beyond awestruck by its legend. Rivers were just
curiosities and obstacles before that, but now this British
icon recited my literature. </span></span></span>
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Seine</b></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">485
miles (780 kilometers)</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Although
a major commercial waterway in France, it is the country's second
longest river. It flows through Paris to the English Channel. It is
often featured in famous paintings of the city. It occupies a spot on
UNESCO's list of World Heritage Sites in Europe. In 1431, Joan of Arc
was burned at the stake and her ashes were thrown into the
Seine.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>So
quietly flows the Seine that one hardly notices its presence. It is
always there, quiet and </i></span></span></span>
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>unobtrusive,
like a great artery running through the human body.</i></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">--Henry Miller</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">For
centuries, poets, philosophers, artists and writers have been drawn
to the Seine. So I took a boat across the Atlantic to see for
myself. The Seine mirrors Paris like no other river in the world
reflects its surrounding town. I met hippies, dope dealers and
soldiers of fortune under its bridges. Sang corny songs and met girls
on the shores. Every time I go to Paris I watch the Bateau-Mouche
sail by, along with the other barges and houseboats. It's as
if I'd never left. Both the sun and moon shine on it differently than
anywhere else on earth.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6byT87K2M20/UckA1vVnE-I/AAAAAAAABXA/aJQYHxSZSLE/s1600/Seind.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6byT87K2M20/UckA1vVnE-I/AAAAAAAABXA/aJQYHxSZSLE/s1600/Seind.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Ganges</b></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">1628
miles (2620 kilometers)</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Having
drawn countless millions to her banks since the dawn of history, the
Ganges supports one of the highest densities of humans. It is the
river of India. Its story is the rise and fall of empires and the
adventures of man. Ranked amongst the five most polluted rivers in
the world, it is believed to have healing properties and can cure the
deadliest of diseases. Situated on its banks, Varanasi is the holiest
city in Hinduism and life is not complete without a bath, at
least once, in its waters. </span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>I
am convinced that everything has come down to us from the banks of
the Ganga-astronomy,</i></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>astrology,
spiritualism, etc. It is very important to note that some 2500 years
ago at the least</i></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Pythagoras
went from Samos to the Ganga to learn geometry.</i></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">--Francis
M Voltaire</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">I
waited years to have an opportunity to travel to India. And my
biggest desire was to reach the Ganges. All of my senses were
overwhelmed: sight, smell, hearing, taste, etc. Someone impeached,
"What didn't you like about the Ganges?" I thought about
all the poverty, pollution, overcrowding, etc. and I answered
immediately, "Nothing."</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-etGj4mY6-8Y/UckA190V5YI/AAAAAAAABXY/H_WliXsAHD4/s1600/ganges.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-etGj4mY6-8Y/UckA190V5YI/AAAAAAAABXY/H_WliXsAHD4/s1600/ganges.JPG" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Potomac</b></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">405
miles (652 kilometers)</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">This
is the river that graces the capital of the USA. I was born and
raised near the Potomac. </span></span></span>
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>If
one morning I walked on the top of the water across the Potomac
River, the headline that </i></span></span></span>
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>afternoon
would read: 'President Can't Swim.'</i></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">--Lyndon
B Johnson</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">I
grew up near the Potomac. Some of the most iconic American monuments
are reflected in its waters. I rode my bicycle around the river and
basin when that was my only transportation. I return to photograph it
periodically. When he was still alive, my father would indulge me and
park in downtown Washington, D.C. so I could get close to all the
historical landmarks. I been arrested taking pictures of its sites,
but that is another story for another time.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-80Dg1xzWJC0/UckA1Ui0RKI/AAAAAAAABW8/XJDG3NYtGbc/s1600/Rivers006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-80Dg1xzWJC0/UckA1Ui0RKI/AAAAAAAABW8/XJDG3NYtGbc/s1600/Rivers006.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Danube</b></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">1795
miles (2888 kilometers)</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The
Danube passes through four Central and Eastern European capitals
before emptying into the Black Sea. It was the long-standing,
northernmost border of the Roman Empire forming a boundary between it
and the barbarian invaders of Central Asia. It is also one of the
three most important waterways of Europe, and its longest. It rises
in the Black Forest and empties into the Black Sea.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0WegWY0EEjE/UckA1fDn8wI/AAAAAAAABXE/ZoZ7WcSCMEw/s1600/Rivers003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0WegWY0EEjE/UckA1fDn8wI/AAAAAAAABXE/ZoZ7WcSCMEw/s320/Rivers003.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="color: black;"> </span><span style="color: black;"> </span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>The
devil take the waltz, my only regret is for the coda - </i></span></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>I
wish that had been a success!</i></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">--Johann
Strauss II, referring to </span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>The
Blue Danube Waltz</i></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">My
client brought me over to Vienna, Austria to photograph for his bank.
I got my first glimpses of the Danube on that job. I discovered
it is called Donau in German, as was the bank. I
also experienced the river in Hungary. My feelings were entirely
from the Strauss waltz, all wrapped up in romantic connotations. My
high school history books mentioned the great Austro-Hungarian and
Ottoman Empires, but that confused me. Laying eyes on the water made
it all clear.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Neva</b></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">46
miles (74 kilometers)</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The
Neva flows through northeastern Russia, through Saint Petersburg
and into the Gulf of Finland. It is intended to be the "main
street of the city" helping to earn the title "Venice of
the North".</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">I
spent many White Nights, long after midnight, on this river. We were
so far north it never got dark at that time of year. Locals and
tourists were reveling into the wee hours of the morning. Buskers,
musicians, dance troupes and pickpockets comingled. In the middle of
the night, everyone watched the famous bridges rise at regulated
times cutting off the two sides of the town so barge traffic could
flow smoothly.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></span></span>
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WPL88d0VXIg/UckA27umm9I/AAAAAAAABXw/pSEroNFwN4g/s1600/river016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WPL88d0VXIg/UckA27umm9I/AAAAAAAABXw/pSEroNFwN4g/s1600/river016.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Amstel</b></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">19
miles (31 kilometers)</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Amstel
is old Dutch for "area abounding with water" and it runs
through the city of Amsterdam. It gives the city is character with
all the canals and houseboats. It has been a popular site for
breweries.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Venice</b></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Venice
is one of the most unique and important tourist destinations in the
world due to the city being one of the world's greatest and most
beautiful places for art. The waterway was built around 118 islands,
formed by linking more than 200 canals and building over 400 bridges.
The largest canal, th</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">e
Grand Canal, is slightly more than 2 miles (3 kilometers) long.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1C7iQ_Fau3g/UckA3CFoR1I/AAAAAAAABX4/tcAKeBRiIZ8/s1600/rivers014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1C7iQ_Fau3g/UckA3CFoR1I/AAAAAAAABX4/tcAKeBRiIZ8/s1600/rivers014.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
Lou Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16401845988446927643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5737009762908926957.post-9952499970073417632013-04-11T10:56:00.000-07:002013-04-11T10:56:12.515-07:00Diary of a Reality Television Show<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<b>Photography on the USA Network show THE MOMENT </b><br />
<b>Airing on April 11, 2013 at 10pm </b><br />
<br />
Once in a lifetime you submerge down the rabbit hole into a mirror opposite world – Wonderland, if you will. Mine started with a simple phone call, out of the blue. The kind of phone call you could never anticipate.<br />
<br />
I was sitting in my studio, alone. The man on the phone introduce himself as producer for a new reality television show. The premise was to fulfill the wishes of weekly participants who wanted to resurrect a career they had to abandon earlier in their life. Now I am not a fan of reality TV. Cannot stand the Kardashians or The Apprentice. I have never seen any of those dance shows or singing shows. I watched Honey Boo Boo once to see what all the hulabaloo was about. Even so, I indulged the voice on the other end of the line. They were looking for a "mentor" who would coach the prospective, in this case sports photographer, towards her dream. A decent concept.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-R82-v0cWif8/UWb4a7sbVMI/AAAAAAAABSA/O81WDR7s2KM/s1600/DSCN1841.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-R82-v0cWif8/UWb4a7sbVMI/AAAAAAAABSA/O81WDR7s2KM/s1600/DSCN1841.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
I bungled through my next statement, "So you want me to recommend someone who might be good at that?" Dead silence. "No. That's why we are calling YOU." Not taking the hint I told the voice that they definitely did not want me. "I am not camera-ready." After explaining that Sports Illustrated magazine had already recommended me, the production company had done much of the vetting and background checking, and still wanted to know if I was interested.<br />
<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7_BbkLQSaWA/UWb4aGrBIpI/AAAAAAAABRg/tFIi8SfNiu0/s1600/120601_The_Moment_LA-044.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7_BbkLQSaWA/UWb4aGrBIpI/AAAAAAAABRg/tFIi8SfNiu0/s320/120601_The_Moment_LA-044.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
From that moment on we entered that fantasy world. For the next several weeks, I ran the gauntlet of online resumes and auditions. I talked about my years of chasing the world's best games and biggest athletes at fourteen summer and winter Olympics, shooting basketball and football and aerobatics and sailing. I learned how to emote over Skype. I recounted the instincts and reactions necessary to capture peak action. I showed off my personal wardrobe and answered loaded questions about photography, in particular, sports photography.<br />
<br />
I always felt I was just one of many the TV show was interviewing. I never for a minute thought they would choose me. I was just going through the motions to find out more about the process, how these things really work. And to assess my "TV worth". Eventually I talked to legal, got myself an agent, signed contracts and sold my soul.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lV4idkUybLA/UWb4aglp3KI/AAAAAAAABR8/SjseLEdIC-0/s1600/DSCN1737.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lV4idkUybLA/UWb4aglp3KI/AAAAAAAABR8/SjseLEdIC-0/s320/DSCN1737.jpg" width="320" /></a>On a parallel reality, I was pursuing another assignment for a corporate client. Both conversations were filled with heavy negotiations. On the one hand, I was suggesting appropriate tests and exercises to hone the skills of their potential TV student. And on the other hand, my studio was applying for the special visas necessary to enter the Peoples Republic of China. The TV producers asked me to use my clout to get Nikon to donate all the cameras and lenses that would appear on the show. At the same time, I was amping up my workouts to build the endurance for the extreme weather, vigorous activities and stamina in a foreign country.<br />
<br />
Possibly the worst day in my professional career came within the same twenty-four hours when both "clients" booked me for the same day: one in Los Angeles, the other in Guangzhou, China. Not a viable commute. I was physically ill. On the subway to an appointment I decided to decline the TV show. Turned out this was not an option. But after another series of negotiations, we were able to reschedule both jobs – back to back.<br />
<br />
Hollywood was a real eye opener. I have photographed on movie sets, but this time was different. The crews were huge: first and second unit camera operators, soundmen, wardrobe, makeup, craft services. There was no script and we worked extremely quickly from scene to scene.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HLljtfA4rCU/UWb4a7Xt9SI/AAAAAAAABR4/_Zrub5cGYIM/s1600/DSCN1756.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HLljtfA4rCU/UWb4a7Xt9SI/AAAAAAAABR4/_Zrub5cGYIM/s1600/DSCN1756.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
The host, Kurt Warner, was an NFL Super Bowl champion. He is the spokesman and the one constant in all the episodes. The episode star, Tracie Marcum, lost her wedding photography studio when her life had been turned upside. After the principals surprised her in her hometown with the opportunity to appear on the show, I took over to help her realize the dream of becoming a sports photographer (and to be the comic relief).<br />
<br />
After the first day of shooting, I called my studio back in Boston and told Leah, my studio manager, to use my frequent flyer miles to come to Hollywood. There was a lot to be learned by observing production at this level. Behind the scenes was the real education. After all, this was Tinseltown – Hollywood – the Land of Dreams.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ndeM3ZSu8L4/UWb4aBeL0II/AAAAAAAABRc/TNNk8oqkjCg/s1600/DSCN1596.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ndeM3ZSu8L4/UWb4aBeL0II/AAAAAAAABRc/TNNk8oqkjCg/s1600/DSCN1596.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
Each day my job was to yell, prod and cajole my participant through the multiple skills necessary to become a competent sports photographer. Obviously day after day, the emotions varied like a sinusoidal wave. Feelings ran high.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VJIdBMDUqyk/UWb4aGbudRI/AAAAAAAABRk/cDsFmOoCxz4/s1600/DSCN1619.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VJIdBMDUqyk/UWb4aGbudRI/AAAAAAAABRk/cDsFmOoCxz4/s320/DSCN1619.jpg" width="320" /></a> A while after we wrapped the production, I did some sleuthing and tracked down my costar, Tracie. I wanted to know what had happened to her. Did she get her wish or not? We actually had a reunion of sorts. I was not sure about our disposition because I probably stepped over the line in one of the sequences when I got in her face. Her whole demeanor changed and her face went dark. She told me later that was when she realized what I was telling her and the wisdom I was imparting. We have become good friends and stay in touch with email and FACEBOOK, etc.
It is strange seeing yourself on television. The promo ads for the premiere show are in high rotation on television every night. And our episode is the first one to kick off the series. It will air on April 11, 2013 at 10pm on USA Network. I guess they have confidence in our chapter. "We had good chemistry."<br />
<br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-38DFAp1VVME/UWb4ak1104I/AAAAAAAABRo/hHcp45x6hI8/s1600/DSCN1665.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-38DFAp1VVME/UWb4ak1104I/AAAAAAAABRo/hHcp45x6hI8/s320/DSCN1665.jpg" width="320" /></a>Call time on the last day came very early in the morning. In the evening after my last shot, I walked off the set, shook a few hands, thanked the crew for nursing me through the arduous project and got into a limousine that spirited me to LAX where I met my other client. We flew all night to Asia, drove four hours to the first location and immediately began shooting my next assignment. You've got to take the work when you get it.
Lou Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16401845988446927643noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5737009762908926957.post-32616225741860054702013-02-27T14:35:00.000-08:002013-02-27T14:35:10.192-08:00DONT LEAVE HOME WITHOUT IT: what's in my camera bag? <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We have all found ourselves slogging through
swamps, soaking wet, cursing mosquitoes and the heavy camera bag we are
lugging. RIGHT? Or scaling the side of a snow covered mountain and swearing to
yourself about the load of lenses obeying the laws of gravity? I
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<i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Scoliosis is a medical condition in which a person's spine is
abnormally curved. It can be congenital or caused by disease but my doctor
tells me mine is from many years of carrying my photography equipment on my
left shoulder.</span></i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As intrepid, itinerant, travel photographers, we
are assigned to transport the tools of our trade <i>everywhere</i>.
But that job comes at a price. Cameras and lenses are heavy. And the
heavier they are, the more they influence your attitude and enthusiasm for
carrying them. You may not be able to muster the energy to take that next shot
if you are giving piggyback rides to too much gear.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">While there are lots of blogs and videos
about "What is in my camera bag?", they are mostly what
kind of pricey cameras and lenses are necessary to take pictures. That’s
all about machismo. But the devil is in the details. This article is about
all the other stuff a working commercial/fine art photographer might need
to make his/her vision <i>visible</i><span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">,
in other words, the grip gear.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Of course <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">1)
cameras</b> are the most important fixture. I carry lots of them. My
weapons of choice are primary bodies and top of the line dSLRs for most
commercial jobs. I am responsible for giving my clients the best in
quality and capability.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For example, when I shoot a Winter Olympics, conditions
insist on camera bodies with rapid motordrives and ability to survive
extreme temperatures. But for advertising, such as billboards or
posters, clients do not need the speed or robustness but may require the
highest resolution. Not every assignment calls for every option. Weight, size
and portability may dictate otherwise. For my street photography my choice is
"smaller is better". I always put a glorified point and shoot in
my pocket. <i>Don't leave home without it.</i></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">2) Lenses</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> have similar criterion. They are also heavy and
possibly more important than the "black boxes" they attach to.
As I have often said, "Lenses have personalities." Each one
gives you a "look" that is unique to its focal length. To take full
advantage of their personalities, you have to have some of them on hand.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As my career has progressed my favorite
lens has changed. It has gotten shorter as time passes. As I have gotten
braver, I like to get closer to my subjects for most street photography. To cut
down on quantity, I have adapted more zoom lenses. Therefore
fewer cover everything from 10mm to 200mm. (When you need that fisheye
nothing will take its place but a fisheye.)</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I have developed very specific physical exercises
to condition myself to carry everything during my meanderings. But for
travel or extreme photography where weight and size are tantamount, I
carry smaller, slower cameras to save my back. I pack extras of everything,
but dump what I don't need in the hotel room until I do.</span></div>
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<i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Once I had to climb to the top of the mast of a tall ship sailing
at sea. Besides being scared out of my wits, I took only one camera body
and a short, zoom lens stuffed into my coat. Holding on to the rat lines for
dear life I achieved a once in a lifetime shot. Hanging nearly upside down,
most of the credit goes to the huge pockets in my jacket for that
assignment.</span></i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Cameras are only the tip of the iceberg. Below
the surface are all the ancillary items that support our obsessive habit. To
keep all this hardware active you need power. Cameras and speedlights devour
energy at an unprecedented rate. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">3)</b> <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Batteries </b>are a weak link.
Every item requires energy and every gadget uses a different type battery.
You also should have backups and the irony is exacerbated because you
have to carry <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">4)</b> <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">chargers</b> for
each one. Chargers offer no other benefit but you cannot survive
without a number of them. More weight. More complexity.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A major problem use to be having an adequate
supply of film. This was of great concern if you were on the road for extended
periods of time. Also navigating security at airports around the world was/is
insanity. But we still have to capture onto some form of digital
media. Enter <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">5)</b> <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">flash cards</b>.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Why is it that camera manufacturers have long
agonized over making all types of equipment compatible so they interchange
between different camera models, but mix battery types and digital media
with no compunction? It is a huge problem for the working photographer.
Recording media evolves so quickly that keeping up is almost impossible.
Compact flash cards grow smaller and lighter and cheaper, but we have to
care for them with the same concern as film. </span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oBt6_HoE05Y/US6AmrV5JEI/AAAAAAAABOc/8VVOFpHRhNw/s1600/110516_066_DO_DSC_3875.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oBt6_HoE05Y/US6AmrV5JEI/AAAAAAAABOc/8VVOFpHRhNw/s1600/110516_066_DO_DSC_3875.jpg" /></a><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #c00000; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I once thought I
had been robbed of all my exposed cards during an assignment at Taj Mahal in
India. I was sick for several hours until I located them.</span></i></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Since we have gotten so used to manipulating everything
in post production, filters and gels have become less integral to initial
capture. White balance, color correction and adding colors and tints are often
done after the fact. However, I still carry a couple of <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">6)</b> <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">filters</b>
with me. My kit always includes a polarizing filter. It does several
things you cannot easily simulate in post: cuts down on glare and
increases saturation; adds color contrast especially in skies and with clouds; and
an overlooked usage: polarizers double as a neutral density substitute for
slower shutter speeds or wider apertures.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The next most important noncamera tool is
probably some form of <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">7)</b> <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">cable release</b>. They can be mechanical
or electronic even wireless. There are apps for cell phones to initiate an
exposure on your camera remotely. However, I believe in simplicity
because the more complicated devices will often fail in a pinch.</span></div>
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<i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">On one trip to Havana,
Cuba I was escorted up several flights of stairs to investigate some wonderful
live music. The building was a worn down, ramshackle relic and there
was no electricity. The hallway and stairwell were pitch black. I was
rapidly chasing my "guide" as he was sprinting up the
stairs. I couldn't see a thing. Fortunately I whipped out my handy
dandy, miniature flashlight. It kept me from stumbling over what
turned out to be bodies who inhabited the space the whole way up.
I could have killed myself or an innocent bystander.</span></i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Therefore I always carry a <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">8)</b> <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">small flashlight</b>: in
dark situations, at night, in dark studios, in caves, to find your way to the
outhouse. Flashlights are an emergency instrument. Having them on hand
is critical and they have to be reliable. I have experimented with several
models over the years. I now also use a flashlight app that I downloaded onto
my cell phone.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In the bottom of my bag there is always a <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">9)</b> <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">compass</b>.
It gets more use than you might think, not only for following directions but to
predict sunrise/sunset. You might assume your clients or locals are aware of
where the sun is everyday but most "civilians" have no comprehension
of their physical surroundings. Again, there are apps on cell phones that serve
as GPS, compass, latitude/longitude, etc. but you need decent
mobile reception and remote destinations may hamper that.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I fill the ensemble out with some sort of <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">10)</b> <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">multitool</b>, i.e. a Leatherman, Craftsman or Swiss Army knife. It
should have a knife, scissors, screwdriver, maybe pliers, etc. I even
found one that had a wine bottle corkscrew. Be careful. I have forgotten and
had them confiscated at airport security more times than I care to
remember. I mailed it back to myself numerous times too. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In addition I always have <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">11)</b> <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">ear plugs</b>. I use
them maybe once/twice a year but they save my hearing inside industrial plants
and race car pitstops; various <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">12) USB
cables</b> for connecting cameras to my laptop while on the road; small roll of
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">13)</b> <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">gaffers tape</b> which repairs literally everything; various <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">14)</b> <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">pens</b> including a Sharpie; a stack of <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">15) model releases</b> for adults and minors.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Most amateur photographers look outside to evaluate
the weather and only shoot when it is sunny and pleasant. The real photographer
often has to shoot in or may seek inclement conditions. On those occasions and
in emergencies, you have to take care of your stuff when it is raining or
snowing. I have tested everything to keep my cameras dry and it is an
impossible task. Fortunately good dSLRs are built to withstand the worst
situations. But why tempt the fates? </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We all laugh at the zany, pedantic television
commercials stumping the <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">16)</b> <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">SHAMWOW</b> cloths. But I use them to
cover my cameras and clean my lenses whenever there is moisture. They
work wet and dry. And they are better than cloth or paper towels and nearly as
good as plastic bags. One resides in my camera bag all the time.</span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FvKZusDKbPc/US6AmnzydyI/AAAAAAAABOY/iKRQ9tFLdAw/s1600/Lowepro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FvKZusDKbPc/US6AmnzydyI/AAAAAAAABOY/iKRQ9tFLdAw/s1600/Lowepro.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The container that holds all this paraphernalia
must be mentioned. A couple of decades ago the camera bag itself became a
hot button topic. An industry grew up to design and manufacture bags to fulfill
every fantasy. In any place photographers gathered it has been debated: trade
association meetings, camera clubs, bars, magazines, etc. DON'T get caught
up in this argument. NEVER. It just does not matter. Camera bags come in
various forms, shapes and sizes: traditional shoulder models, backpacks, waist
mounted, with wheels, etc. You can carry your tools in a plastic grocery bag if
you wish. Ultimately, it is a matter of personal preference, necessity and
pocketbook. </span></div>
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<i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">My favorite camera bag was given to me as a birthday present
by my studio staff. I adapted to it rather than the other way around. It
served me for just a few months short of a decade. I patched and
taped it together for years. It looked nasty and acquired just the right
"patina" from wear and tear.</span></i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Often I do not feel I can tote a
tripod. As important as they are, I may need to travel fast and light. Instead,
a permanent fixture of my camera bag is a <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">17)</b>
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">monopod</b>. (Technically it is not IN
my bag but hanging from it.) It is small and compact and increases my facility,
especially with long lenses. With it, the average photographer can gain
almost two additional stops slower shutter speed. It is a great perch for all
other lenses too. Be sure to bury it in your checked luggage when boarding
airplanes as mine has been confiscated at checkpoints.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">One item I often mention but is very pedestrian
is a <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">18)</b> 15-20 foot common <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">electrical cord</b>. Hotel rooms are
notorious for not having/not having enough electrical outlets. You have to plug
all your stuff in and a $6 extension cord with multiple three-prong outlets or
small power strip can keep you in business. I do not usually carry a zip cord
in my camera bag but it comes along for the ride because it keeps all the rest
of the paraphernalia running.</span></div>
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<i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In a 48 hour round trip to Paris the only outlet I could find was
in the bathroom. The long cord extended to my laptop, battery chargers and
cell phone while I watched television from the bed.</span></i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">REMEMBER! Just toss in a passport and
you can go anywhere your heart desires.</span></div>
Lou Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16401845988446927643noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5737009762908926957.post-44385609424228751772012-12-12T11:52:00.000-08:002012-12-12T11:52:39.499-08:00PhotoPlus Expo Over The Years<b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"></span></b>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-znpjiE71cN4/UMjfzPXQuQI/AAAAAAAABNU/hrkQlqfth94/s1600/expo002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-znpjiE71cN4/UMjfzPXQuQI/AAAAAAAABNU/hrkQlqfth94/s1600/expo002.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">My fiscal year ends and
begins in October. The <span style="font-variant: small-caps;">PhotoPlus Expo</span>
held in New York City marks the culmination of all things photo. Another great
seminar – thanks to all who attended. Now I hit the ground running across the
USA with a large, repeat client. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"> <a name='more'></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">When traveling
to New York City to seek work in the early 1980s, I visited several
friends with studios near the Flatiron Building. The area soon became known as
the Photo District because there were so many lofts inhabited by the highest
density of photographers in the world. I eventually rented an office on W21st Street and
when walking around at dusk, the whole street would be intermittently
lighted by strobes flashing on virtually every floor of the surrounding buildings.
It was one of the oddest sensations and only industry "insiders" had
any idea what was causing the phenomenon.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"> </span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BAtnKYRhTL0/UMjd6lecpAI/AAAAAAAABM8/z5_0P0XkDj4/s1600/expo001.tif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BAtnKYRhTL0/UMjd6lecpAI/AAAAAAAABM8/z5_0P0XkDj4/s640/expo001.tif" width="185" /></a><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Out of this community
arose a thin, cheaply printed newsletter that soon spread outside of the
neighborhood to studios all across the country. I thought I was so hip having
early editions mailed to me in Boston. <span style="font-variant: small-caps;">Photo
District News</span> (PDN) was born accidentally and out of necessity.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I may not have
attended the first <span style="font-variant: small-caps;">PhotoPlus Expo </span>in
1982, I think I did, but I have missed very few since. It claims to be the
largest photography convention in North America. Most of my colleagues
paced the crowded floor viewing, fondling and testing all sorts of cameras, film,
enlargers, papers, and chemistry. Green envy overwhelmed empty pocketbooks.
This is the ultimate "candy store" for professional photographers.
Everyone had to own the latest item. The manufacturers and the
end-users came together, nose-to-nose, to buy, sell, and kibitz.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">One year while preparing
to shoot the Olympics, I spied a huge 600mm f/4 lens behind a glass counter at
a booth. I inquired as to how much a thing like that costs. The salesman
laughed in my face. He sputtered, "If they were available, it would cost
you a Hyundai. But they are back ordered." To save face I gave him my
business card. He looked at my title and noticed that I was a national
board member of the ASMP. I had never exploited my position, but I got a
phone call a couple of weeks later. The telephoto had suddenly become
available. With it I have shot many Olympic Games (after cobbling together the
exorbitant downpayment).</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Otherwise not interested
in equipment, I strolled around the hall looking at the plastic identification
cards on everyone's chest. Each time I recognized a name, I nervously
introduced myself. These were my heroes. These were the bylines I read in
every magazine on the newsstands. My fellow conventioneers were a
veritable Who's Who of photography: Jay Maisel, Bill Eppridge, Gregory Heisler,
Matthew Jordan Smith, Rick Sammon, Gerd Ludwig, Syl Arena, Chris Rainier, Chase
Jarvis, and many others. <span> </span>(If a
terrorist were to explode a bomb, the photography world would never
recover.) These brief encounters added up over the years. As a consequence
of all that schmoozing, I can no longer move ten feet without running
into some "old friend" that I only see on that same spot on the floor
of PPE. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">My most embarrassing
moment happened when I took a seminar just to meet Francesco Scavullo. RIP. I
had loved his pictures for years. He was doing a demonstration and the room was
packed. His assistants were scurrying around and the models were primping.
Scavullo wore tight black pants and a flamboyant white silk blouse that
flowed with his every movement. All of a sudden something went wrong. The
strobes failed and everything stopped. Without skipping a beat, the famous
fashion photographer asked the audience for questions to waste time as the
problem was being fixed. I was all the way in the back of the room and my hand
went up. He called on me and I asked if he would autograph my book. The place
was stunned. Everybody was aghast that I had such chutzpah to ask this
inappropriate question. I knew that, but did it anyway. I passed the
coffee-table book, like in a crowd surfing mosh pit, to the front. He signed and
everyone passed the book back. I knew I would never penetrate the hangers-on and
get close to him after the session. I treasure the book to this day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Dates have changed,
largely to avoid competing directly with the New York Marathon or Halloween.
However, it happens. And when combined with all the usual tourists, hotel rooms
are scarce. But getting on the elevator with skimpy-attired runners and bizarre
costumes make the New York State of Mind more exciting. A few years ago on
Halloween, I was invited to an industry party with high ranking guests.
Everyone came dressed in costumes. I went dressed as a photographer. After the
party, they went to Greenwich Village to see the boisterous parade and checked another
thing off the </span><i><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">100
Things to Do Before You Die </span></i><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">list</span><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Over the years we have
seen many things change. We survived the transition from film to digital. We
witnessed Kodak and Polaroid disappear, and Epson and Adobe emerge. 47th
Street Camera morphed into B&H. Of course the names changed just
like the laws. What was once Friday, Saturday, Sunday is now Wednesday
through Saturday. Because Orthodox Jews represent such a large proponent of the
industry, we all observe Sabbath along with them. The whole phenomenon became
more democratic...inclusive. And the wedding/event photographers and amateurs changed
the complexion even more.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Outside the Jacob Javits
Convention Center, the real world may not know what is happening inside the
glass monstrosity, but their "mirror to the world" is
being renegotiated and rearranged. The best photographers, agencies,
manufacturers, and publishers are reformatting and recomposing every photograph
that sees the light of day.</span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7KdcV1c63BI/UMjfSxdmuSI/AAAAAAAABNM/QScR1dR51Rc/s1600/DSCN2715.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7KdcV1c63BI/UMjfSxdmuSI/AAAAAAAABNM/QScR1dR51Rc/s1600/DSCN2715.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">However, as much
business as is being done in the Javits, even more goes on behind
the scenes -dinners and parties all over the West Side. The Bash that
PDN throws every year gives strangers a chance to let their hair down and
hobnob with others just like themselves. On a few memorable years, the
dance floor throbbed as couples sweated and bounced in time to the music, shoulder
to shoulder with other strangers. The mashups have been great
for everyone.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">During Game 6 of the
World Series in 1986, they brought television sets in to a party for
everyone to watch because the New York Mets were playing. In a vivid
flashback, I remember walking in and everyone razing me. My
Boston Red Sox were one out from winning and people blamed me. (No one was
aware I also hated the Red Sox.) All of a sudden Bill Buckner
committed his career ending error and the hometown team went on to win. In
an hour I went from arch enemy to the butt of eternal jokes, for
years after.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Somehow along the way I
have had the good fortune of standing at the front of the room, teaching
several different seminars. I have sat on panels and lectured to large, captivated
audiences. Some of my subjects have included travel photography, long term
documentary projects, annual reports, publishing books, and most recently,
speedlights. It is a way of staying relevant in the ever
changing photography landscape.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Recently a few
people have stopped me on my way around the convention and requested an
autograph. I guess I have been coming here too long.</span></div>
Lou Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16401845988446927643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5737009762908926957.post-42168794240049916662012-10-03T12:41:00.000-07:002012-10-03T12:41:11.173-07:00Happy Birthday Red Sox<div class="ReadMsgBody" id="mpf0_readMsgBodyContainer" style="text-align: left;">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MTBJSwrZKQw/UGyS3yTYzxI/AAAAAAAABK8/D2mCNqQF4b4/s1600/DSC_3064.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MTBJSwrZKQw/UGyS3yTYzxI/AAAAAAAABK8/D2mCNqQF4b4/s1600/DSC_3064.jpg" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black; font-size: x-small;">Happy Birthday to you...Happy
Birthday to you...Happy Birthday dear FENWAY... It has been a long time since I
moved here, and it has taken me that long to be able to sing those words.
</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black; font-size: x-small;">I moved to Boston from
Washington, D.C. The last baseball team I rooted for was the defunct Washington
Senators. Sneaking out of town and abandoning dedicated fans had left
the capital teamless for over four decades, and me shell shocked. My
father was a lifelong Baltimore Orioles fan, but that only left a hole in
my expectations. I harbored a grudge. </span></span></span><br />
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<a name='more'></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--TYUk7hHXOw/UGyS5SD0yuI/AAAAAAAABLc/GKoKVK7fl74/s1600/baseball004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--TYUk7hHXOw/UGyS5SD0yuI/AAAAAAAABLc/GKoKVK7fl74/s1600/baseball004.jpg" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black; font-size: x-small;">Boston was a dichotomy of
artistic and cultural progress built over a simmering powder keg of social and
racial repression. Its sports teams for
generations reflected the real personality of the city and the
"complexion" of the sports franchises: resistant to change. Patriots,
Celtics, Bruins and Red Sox fielded teams that looked nothing like the
rest of the leagues. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black; font-size: x-small;">Sports are supposed to transcend
politics, but anyone who does not listen to sports talk radio knows better.
Cities are mortal enemies because their teams are in the same division.
Brothers and sisters gripe because they grow up cheering for opposing
players. If the Red Sox were in the playoffs when school started in the fall,
fewer rocks were thrown at buses transporting children to schools in order to
desegregate the public school system.</span></span></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rUEfRBYFumc/UGyS6BUWUTI/AAAAAAAABLk/BpiIXp_P6q0/s1600/baseball008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rUEfRBYFumc/UGyS6BUWUTI/AAAAAAAABLk/BpiIXp_P6q0/s320/baseball008.jpg" width="217" /></a><span style="color: black; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black; font-size: x-small;">Slowly times changed and so did
the recruiting. All the teams got new management and owners who recognized that
winning made them more money. In the last eight years, every one of the big
teams has won championships. Boston can lay claim to "best sports city in
the USA". The public energy surrounding their ascendancy has been
fascinating to watch. I am a fan. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nnxx2OBRweg/UGyS4tRuAXI/AAAAAAAABLM/na6SCPkYKIY/s1600/Pregnant+099.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nnxx2OBRweg/UGyS4tRuAXI/AAAAAAAABLM/na6SCPkYKIY/s200/Pregnant+099.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="color: black; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black; font-size: x-small;">Late one evening while on
assignment, my college classmate phoned me. My assistant was driving and my
client was riding shotgun. We had just
left him in southern Florida and were driving north to catch another plane. He
told me to watch the lunar eclipse. Since we were both science geeks who
had attended school with people just like those starring in "The Big
Bang Theory", the celestial phenomenon was a big deal to us. Staring out
the car window, it was beautiful. At the same time I told my assistant to turn
on the car radio. The Sox were playing. Fully expecting to hear the worst,
the play-by-play guy eventually announced that Boston had won the World Series.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black; font-size: x-small;">When I first started photographing
at FENWAY PARK, it took just a phone call to get a press pass. The "Curse
of the Bambino" had kept World Series rings off Red Sox ballplayer's
fingers. During many seasons the stadium was sparsely populated. Some years,
only the diehards could be found scarfing down Fenway Franks and Cracker Jacks
and overpriced beers late in the season. The PR department would let
anyone who had an excuse and a camera take pictures.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Idrr3M_zQAs/UGyS4K-0dkI/AAAAAAAABLE/LKh1gV-y6-w/s1600/DSC_3257.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Idrr3M_zQAs/UGyS4K-0dkI/AAAAAAAABLE/LKh1gV-y6-w/s1600/DSC_3257.jpg" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black; font-size: x-small;">Success has changed all that. The
curse has been broken. Now it is a pain in the butt to gain access to any part
of the team. Management wants to control every iota. In some respects, I cannot
blame them, but there is a longstanding, tacit synergy between sports and
photography. One does not thrive without the other. Fans extend far, far
beyond the parks, pitches, fields and arenas where the games are played. Our
cameras keep them close.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lgQ2a1Sl49g/UGyS479K_CI/AAAAAAAABLU/FJu0DZsUbrs/s1600/baseball001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lgQ2a1Sl49g/UGyS479K_CI/AAAAAAAABLU/FJu0DZsUbrs/s1600/baseball001.jpg" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black; font-size: x-small;">The venerable FENWAY PARK and the
GREEN MONSTER celebrate 100 years this year. The stands are sold out now.
I have gained permission to climb down into the photographer's pit along
the third base line with my 600mm lens and contribute to the legend many times.
Individually, I have had the pleasure of photographing Wade Boggs, Mo Vaughn,
Roger Clemens and Nomar Garciaparra in the ballpark or in my studio. For a time
they were like gods. It is ironic that they all left town under dubious
controversies. Some signed baseballs for me. One even gave me advice about my
hitting. But, all were total *ssholes; showing up
late, abruptly curtailing shoots and just having "attitude"
when they had agreed to the sessions...and the money. I take it in stride.
After all I cannot hit a hundred mile an hour fastball. </span></span></span></div>
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Lou Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16401845988446927643noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5737009762908926957.post-7567403987006402272012-09-15T16:36:00.000-07:002012-09-15T16:36:24.153-07:00PRC 2012 Benefit Auction: Featuring Lou Jones<br />
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<a href="http://www.bu.edu/prc/auction2012/Logo_auction_blue.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.bu.edu/prc/auction2012/Logo_auction_blue.jpg" /></a><span>One of my highly-stylized photographs from the long standing
series “distressed” is being featured in the Photographic Resource Center’s
2012 Benefit Live Auction on October 13, 2012. <br />
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<span> - <a href="http://www.bu.edu/prc/auction2012/pages/27jones-l.htm">Lou’s image & bio</a></span></div>
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For over 20 years, the PRC has hosted an auction to raise money so
it can continue to support fine art and creative photography in New England.
This event is an exciting opportunity for the photography, art, collecting, and
gallery communities to celebrate this important Boston-based cultural
institution.<span> </span> </div>
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- <a href="http://www.bu.edu/prc/auction2012/auction2012.htm">Click here for more information and to purchase tickets</a>. <br />
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Other live auction works include photographs by <span>Robert Capa, </span><a href="http://www.bu.edu/prc/auction2012/pages/15washburn.htm" target="_blank"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Bradford Washburn,</span><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"> </span><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Karin Rosenthal, </span></a><span>Dominic Chavez, Henry Horenstein, Arno
Minkkinen,<b> </b></span>and <span>Marie Cosindas. The
silent auction features 172 artists, including </span><span>Ed Kashi and</span><span> </span><span>Elsa Dorfman</span><span>.</span></div>
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<a href="http://www.bu.edu/prc/auction2012/forms/Auction_invitations2012.pdf">Event Invitation </a><br />
<a href="http://www.bu.edu/prc/auction2012/auction2012_artists_list.htm">Featured Artists</a><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-225FL_Nywi4/UFUQycA0HUI/AAAAAAAABKk/oK3tEtkeiGM/s1600/Distressed_butterflies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-225FL_Nywi4/UFUQycA0HUI/AAAAAAAABKk/oK3tEtkeiGM/s1600/Distressed_butterflies.jpg" /></a></div>
Lou Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16401845988446927643noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5737009762908926957.post-30116797544643557732012-09-05T23:04:00.000-07:002012-09-05T23:04:22.678-07:00Q&A: How To Get A Gallery Show<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-o-eSodm1ASA/UEg74jODD7I/AAAAAAAABJ4/kbPN58rEmkg/s1600/gallery003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-o-eSodm1ASA/UEg74jODD7I/AAAAAAAABJ4/kbPN58rEmkg/s1600/gallery003.jpg" /></a></div>
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Recently, an established photographer contacted me looking for advice on how to find a gallery that will show his work and the kind of work to submit, as he has spent many decades photographing portraits, furniture, architecture and more.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--rOEqlfBywU/UEg73sT-HkI/AAAAAAAABJo/bSK_wg8Tlds/s1600/DSCN2373.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--rOEqlfBywU/UEg73sT-HkI/AAAAAAAABJo/bSK_wg8Tlds/s320/DSCN2373.JPG" width="320" /></a>Having a decent gallery show takes quite a bit of time to develop. The myth of walking into a gallery and a curator offering you a show on the spot is fodder for movies, but otherwise unlikely. Anyone that can offer you a real show wants to see commitment and coherence in your portfolio. It helps to get your schtick under control. Spend time developing your vision and value. You have to have this before you go to owners and curators because they will only show work if it will make them money, LOTS OF IT. They are NOT going to take a chance on you unless there is a payoff.<br />
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How do you do that? Go to photo festivals where gallery owners, agents and curators are gathered to review your work. You pay to present to several of them, one at a time. If you choose well and find someone who likes your work, they MAY offer you some type of continuation, i.e. "show me work in a year" or get in touch with someone else that might be interested. Once in a great while you may hear from them to present your work at their institution or publication.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_W4vXyNP2Ts/UEg74DfmsgI/AAAAAAAABJw/1vsSVcFCMqI/s1600/gallery001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_W4vXyNP2Ts/UEg74DfmsgI/AAAAAAAABJw/1vsSVcFCMqI/s1600/gallery001.jpg" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lQJH_Yw9FwI/UEg73QVxBBI/AAAAAAAABJk/iZRgyKt3qKg/s1600/DSCN2368.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lQJH_Yw9FwI/UEg73QVxBBI/AAAAAAAABJk/iZRgyKt3qKg/s320/DSCN2368.JPG" width="320" /></a>My advice to my students just starting out is to approach local institutions, cafes and libraries. It exposes them to the complexities of presenting their work and mounting some type of exhibit. There are also banks and companies that have very excellent galleries curated with the same zeal as that of a museum. Another trick is to go back to your alma mater. They may take a chance on an alumnus who is willing to show in their galleries. You can amass a large publicity program similar to mailings for commercial clients and send out information to prospective galleries, or you can try to use social networking to get work in front of them. Otherwise you have to contact people of interest to you and take your WELL-PRINTED portfolio and show cohesive collections of work.<br />
<br />
But it all takes time. This is a brief synopsis for the long journey. No one makes money exhibiting except the huge stars. Mostly it is ego boosting. It will cost you lots of money to make inroads into the world, a world that is even more difficult and opaque than the commercial world. But it take a semester to learn the basics and a lifetime to get anywhere with that knowledge.Lou Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16401845988446927643noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5737009762908926957.post-39637633262068762232012-08-14T00:07:00.000-07:002012-08-14T00:07:51.455-07:00Hey Rube! Carnivals Circuses Fairs<br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Recently, "This
American Life" on National Public Radio (NPR) did a broadcast
episode about carnivals. It brought back cobwebs of memories. I
was no older than eight. My parents imagined giving my sister and me the
"Leave It to Beaver" summer family vacation experience. We traveled
to Wildwood, New Jersey. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">The boardwalk was the
center of all life. We spent time on it every day. It was alien, dangerous but
seductive. Every adventure was fraught with anxiety and anticipation. At that
age, I was afraid of absolutely everything: the ocean, the dark, strangers, my
own shadow. But once I survived, I continued to return because
each razzle-dazzle concession was more compelling than the last. I shot my
first guns at unattainable targets on the boardwalks, never winning anything. I
met "best friends" I never saw again. We ran rampant on the side
streets and underneath the piers. After bumping, gyrating, levitating and
careening on every ride, I realized that anything was possible. </span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HzuRFWhgfYQ/UCn4bPuMZxI/AAAAAAAABIA/mBMWH0NH8FQ/s1600/Boston_098.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HzuRFWhgfYQ/UCn4bPuMZxI/AAAAAAAABIA/mBMWH0NH8FQ/s1600/Boston_098.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">After sunset, the arcade
really came to life. It lit up brighter than Xmas. The oompah-manufactured
music from dueling calliopes presented an ever repeating
soundtrack. They butchered sentimental favorites and top ten tunes alike. </span><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Old Suzanna</span></i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;"> never sounded so bad. I loved it. And the
barkers enticed rubes by the carload to view nature's "mistakes",
hidden behind forbidden doors so as not to frighten passersby. I never saw any
of them. I was too young and had no money. But my
imagination swears they were all real.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Subject of many novels and
movies, carnivals and circuses are the backdrop for American legends. Their
reputations escalate in hyperbole with each passing generation. Negative
connotations embellish every rumor. A struggle between good and evil is
fought inside every fairground joint. Each carnie is trained to
bilk unsuspecting shills from their money. Sex is around every corner. The pitchmen are
all scam artists and assemble from the most despicable reprobates, gypsies,
convicts and perverts. Their spiels are folk literature that grip you just
below the heart and pull you through the curtains.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Early in my career, I
followed circuses for some of the same reasons. They were mysterious and insurmountable.
Whereas the acts were wonderful, their nefarious existence in the
wagons circled behind the Big Top was fodder for my camera. I beseeched friends
who were doing marketing to get me into Ringling Bros. and Barnum &
Bailey, as well as the now defunct Clyde Beatty Circus. I traveled hundreds of
miles to sneak into second rate, jackpot circuses. The tackier the better.</span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o5u26qOURtY/UCn4fU-AdrI/AAAAAAAABJI/UoY8v5QDfF0/s1600/circus008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o5u26qOURtY/UCn4fU-AdrI/AAAAAAAABJI/UoY8v5QDfF0/s1600/circus008.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">When I was younger I
found myself partying with the beautiful show girls who wore sequins and rode
the elephants. I invited roustabouts back to my studio and swapped my pitiful
stories with vagabonds who had experienced the expanses and byways of
America. </span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ejt-1_2dCnY/UCn1YrNcqcI/AAAAAAAABHM/PpXfNJiB1wo/s1600/circus001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ejt-1_2dCnY/UCn1YrNcqcI/AAAAAAAABHM/PpXfNJiB1wo/s320/circus001.jpg" width="206" /></a><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">But, the fraternity of
performers was not always welcoming to interlopers like me. It was made known
that they did not appreciate my presence. I was cursed, spat upon and
yelled at often. But since I was only cursorily interested in what
was going on under the big lights, backstage was my bailiwick. So I persisted. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Show business myth and its
reality have nothing to do with each other. Once in a dirty, sweaty,
florescent-lit, underground dressing room, my assistant, almost in
tears, admitted that the backstage experience shattered her image of
the happy fantasy (and that she had always been afraid of the clowns).</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">County and state fairs
are another issue altogether. They are Americana. It is where the rural of 4-H
clubs meets the urban of games of chance, rides and neon lights. Prized,
family-pet pigs are awarded blue
ribbons while teenagers puke riding the Tilt-a-Whirl.
Parents drag their kids back to recollect memories matching their childhoods.
People do stupid things and are proud of it. They strap themselves into
frightening, bone-crushing rides in the name of fun. They eat wretched
foods with a smile and rubs shoulders with characters they would never
talk to in their ordinary, humdrum lives. Tattoos, cotton candy and fried
dough. It's concentrated nostalgia.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">I teach my students studying
"street photography" that if you want to break into it, you should go
to places where there are lots of people gathered trying to have fun. Not only
are they great sites for interesting photography, but people drop their
guards and are not as suspicious of photographers. So I follow my own advice and seek
out festivals as I travel around the world. I pay an admission fee and enjoy
the potential energy of everything inside. Weird juxtapositions and the most
diverse demonstrations of humanity are outlined under the glaring lights
of the midway. Traditional, contemporary and bizarre are in close proximity.
You can see the full spectrum of local society by turning in a 360 degree
circle. It is unbelievable. And most often, no one minds you taking their
picture.</span></div>
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</span>Lou Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16401845988446927643noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5737009762908926957.post-27020790547807599222012-05-08T23:40:00.000-07:002012-05-16T11:45:39.869-07:00One Penny Post<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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In photography’s infancy first came the carte-de-visite. A fashionable gentleman would make a social call and leave his picture card on a silver tray in the parlor. Then in the 1850s, after Napoleon iii posed for his formal portrait, they became all the rage. During the Civil War, photographers documented families for posterity. The small albumen prints gained tremendous momentum as soldiers marched off to battle. Millions were sold. They were sent in great numbers at the height of European colonialism.<br />
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<i>Carte-de-visites were the first fashion photography</i></blockquote>
The first postcard was mailed in the USA at that time. Postcard collecting was spurred by the Columbian Exposition of 1893 in Chicago. Prior to 1898, only the US Post Office could manufacture postcards. The most prolific and inventive years of postcard design were from 1902-18. This period is commonly referred to as “the Golden Age”. In 1908 more than 677 million postcards were mailed.<br />
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<b>Penny Postcard</b><br />
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When I was a kid you could mail a postcard for a penny—1¢. Now granted that was a long time ago but you have to admit you got a lot of service for $.01. The printing of the stamp costs more than that. There was a time when the postcard cost only a penny too. Unfortunately along with the penny postcard, the art of writing a letter or postcard has also disappeared.<br />
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<b>Communist Artform</b><br />
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Before email and targeted mailing lists, FACEBOOK, blogging, I used to send postcards to friends and potential clients from the far reaches of the globe. It was a little piece of photographic art for about fifty cents. I tracked down vintage black/white photographs, hokey scenics from remote giftshops, rescued an illimitable supply of visual puns, even mailed back bad photography if that was all I could find. A labor of love. It takes effort to find and buy and write and mail one and in that act a kind of alchemy occurs. In some places my search for stamps was tantamount to a quest for the Holy Grail. I often spent more time than was justifiable since I had to find a post office, stand in line and communicate what I was trying to do (and where) without the benefit of language. Because I was functionally illiterate, I developed a sixth sense. Question: o;hia fkj*f asd and df#gv? My answer: USA? <br />
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<i> Postkarte (German), Tarjeta postal (Spanish), Vykort (Swedish), Pohlednice (Czech), Pocztówki (Polish), Briefkaart (Dutch)</i></blockquote>
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In some environments the process of posting is its own challenge. One time, at the last minute, my hotel had run out of stamps. I bribed the concierge to track some down and mail my small stack after I had checked out. Back home I held my breath. There is something inherently optimistic about trusting that a stamp substitute will commandeer your expectations through the international mails. They all arrived safely—weeks later—but they got there.<br />
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On different assignments I mailed postcards from behind the Iron Curtain, out of Africa, blockaded islands and Third World territories. Slow telegrams. When I schlepped my portfolio around, from time to time I would see my postcards tacked to art director’s walls. <br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5IVrc0cZv1s/T6thHHNRF_I/AAAAAAAABDA/V0XqK7v7kX4/s1600/Copyright_Lou_Jones_09.TIF" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="148" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5IVrc0cZv1s/T6thHHNRF_I/AAAAAAAABDA/V0XqK7v7kX4/s200/Copyright_Lou_Jones_09.TIF" width="200" /></a>In my book <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Travel-Photography-Charts-Lou-Jones/dp/0240808150">travel+PHOTOGRAPHY: Off the Charts</a> I talk about my often limited schedule and, if I am in an unfamiliar city, how I will track down a shop where I can buy postcards. I use them to guide me to the salient monuments and landmarks in the area so I can quickly shoot images with the card as reference. Postcard venues have been vetted by the locals and represent the places most tourists want to see. I collect the better ones and then mail the others off.<br />
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However in photography the phrase “looks like a postcard” has both good and bad connotations: Good in the sense that the place is idyllic and worthy of note, Bad because it is average, touristy, mediocre. <br />
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<b>Collecting</b><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9-HkuGcJtTA/T6thQw93W0I/AAAAAAAABDg/1-AqWbD08HI/s1600/Copyright_Lou_Jones_13.TIF" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9-HkuGcJtTA/T6thQw93W0I/AAAAAAAABDg/1-AqWbD08HI/s320/Copyright_Lou_Jones_13.TIF" width="320" /></a>Deltiology is the study of and collecting postcards. They are one of the top three collectibles in the world along with coins and stamps. Retail is conducted, hidden in antique malls, mildewed church basements and obscure local auctions. They satisfy our need to preserve these remnants from the scrap heap. Like baseball, sports cards, there are conventions and fairs that buy/sell/trade. On any Sunday you will find collectors pawing through boxes and boxes of moldy, old cardboard with hundreds of other geeks searching for that perfect “find”, rescuing an overlooked treasure from obscurity. On the rare occasion that happens, then the bargaining begins.<br />
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The staggering volume of ephemera one sees on eBay and in flea markets and in every gift shop on the planet provides a clear sense of how common the urge once was and how durable it remains. Illegible handwritten messages decorate and add to the value. Postmarks are sought by some collectors and those inscribed by famous people even more so.<br />
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<b>Disposable</b><br />
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Irrespective of the handwritten text on the back, postcards tell stories: past, present and future; about journeys, their senders and their origins. Even the stamps have a story to tell. Postcards are ephemeral pieces of visual culture. They are commonly perceived as the most quotidian form of communication. They are a low cost, non-threatening, disposable medium. The fast food, drive-thru of advertising. Hotels give them away. Souvenir shops sell them for cheap. Yet they are priceless for the memories they invoke.<br />
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Postcards provide proof of travel, often proof of the exotic. They make foreign locations seem attainable. They verify real adventure and inflame the pedestrian ones. The typical postcard suggests perfection but perfection does not exist. So the postcard is often a “little white lie”. Travelers send postcards to shock people at home, tempt them, make friends envious. Oneupsmanship. Postcards are the poetry of the casual traveler. Efficient.<br />
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To mail back a postcard is to put your brand on a new “possession”, your imprint—marking your territory. We collect new places and prove it with a postcard. Locals do not use postcards. It is purely a tourist thing, like pith helmets and photo vests.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_wxYsZ2AaEo/T6thPMPCRYI/AAAAAAAABDY/1cTrGOyrBP0/s1600/Copyright_Lou_Jones_12.TIF" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="136" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_wxYsZ2AaEo/T6thPMPCRYI/AAAAAAAABDY/1cTrGOyrBP0/s200/Copyright_Lou_Jones_12.TIF" width="200" /></a>In today’s world of high powered WiFi, email and FedEx, postcards are a throwback. They are like downmarket Rand Mcnally in this new world of Google Maps. They conjure up a place in a manner that technology has rendered obsolete. Nobody writes anymore. A postcard is to a letter as a tweet is to an email. Besides they are not an accurate view of anywhere. They straighten out the curves and wrinkles of any destination.<br />
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To collectors the most sought after types are called <i>Real Photo Postcards, RPPCs</i>. No subject has been safe from being featured. Nudity, racism, crime, dead bodies, politics, advertising. The “most popular” scenic pre 1910 was Niagara Falls. Large sized postcards are called <i>Continental</i>. Those cancelled in the US prior to 1 July 1898 are called <i>Pioneer.</i> A fad placing the postage stamp on the same side as the image was termed <i>timbre cote vu</i>. The phrase informed authorities that the stamp was on the view side.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-K-I6Z7MNO8c/T6thNO3ffDI/AAAAAAAABDQ/hqzylsz2-ZY/s1600/Copyright_Lou_Jones_11.TIF" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="227" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-K-I6Z7MNO8c/T6thNO3ffDI/AAAAAAAABDQ/hqzylsz2-ZY/s320/Copyright_Lou_Jones_11.TIF" width="320" /></a>My collection now numbers in the thousands. I only keep photographs—RPPCs. One of my first was push pinned to a cork bulletin board over my desk from a cross country trip as a Boy Scout. A polychrome rectangle ornamented with graphics and a caption on back reminding me of where I had been. Fat, uppercase letters adorn the picture side and offer up <b>GREETINGS</b> from <b>NEW MEXICO</b>. Part of a photo is outlined by each letter of the state name. A cactus in the “E”, adobe surrounded by the “M”, the “X” held the state flag. Conspicuously there are no Indians. It was a different time.<br />
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<i>Wish you were here.</i><br />
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<br />Lou Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16401845988446927643noreply@blogger.com3