Sunday, June 13, 2010

"I'm In An Elevator"

The elevator fiasco concluded after about 55 minutes of heated tension between a claustrophobic friend who hates elevators, another friend who thought it was funny to jump up and down in the elevator in order to freak-out the first friend even further, and 4 additional friends who were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Real names will not be used here in order to protect the guilty from tar and feathering.  

As the heavy metal door to the deathbox was pried-open, a muscular man's hand slid in to push the monolith aside as our lungs filled with fresh air from the 15 1/2 floor.  My first field test of the Canon 5D Mark II camera was a success, and included video, audio, and stills shot on-location in a real elevator; with real people!

Video from elevator

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Saturday, June 5, 2010

"Nice Treatment"

More and more now I'm hearing people in the industry use the word "treatment" when describing the photographer's final piece:  "I wonder what treatment or filter he used", or "I love that kind of treatment". The workflow a photographer chooses determines how the final, stylized photograph will render. 

Phase One's Capture One Pro for instance, processes RAW images completely differently than the way Adobe products process them.  In addition, the process through which images are retouched or stylized, be it from (what I like to call) scratch, where one uses only native Photoshop adjustment layers and filters to achieve a stylized effect, or with the help of 3rd-party plugins such as Kevin Kubota's toolkit, the modern-day photographer appears to be slacking on scrutiny: doing less and less in production, and relying on the magic of digital imaging software.  So does that mean that retouchers should get paid more, and or at least get credited?  Do Photoshop skills alleviate the need to be a "great" photographer?  Do they eliminate the need for superior lighting?

My New Pet

So I now have a pet crow whom I've named "Edgar".  And although he typically sources his own food, mostly worms and tsetse flies, the occasional slice of bread flies from my second-story window and into his world.  And yes, I'm well aware that the "raven" was associated with Mr. Poe, not the crow.  But upon his startling caw at my clumsy cornerturn into his wooded cranny nook one day last week, my mind flashed first to Hitchcock, secondly to "The Raven", finally to his current name, "Edgar". 

It's dusk.  Edgar perches ten feet above my squeaky brass-handled window on a rusty metal roof beam, searching for movement on the ground of my "secret garden" below, glancing sporadically to see what I'm doing inside my studio.  Although it lacks in botanical variety, the overgrown land is blanketed by twining vines of Creeping Charlie, whose shiny coat reflects the dark-blue sky and millions of unnamed stars. And when it rains, the ivy leaves hold the weight of the fresh water, creating bird baths and water cups.