On the Beach...

Okay, so I'm on vacation. Sort of.

First of all, with two small children, as Ronald Reagan said about the presidency, it's not a vacation, it's just a change of scenery. They're a full-time job ... as they should be. And this isn't a complaint, just a statement of fact. Just as, as when you get out of college, get a job, get older, get married, the concept of "vacation" changes, so it does when you have kids. Now it's as much about their vacation as yours...

Secondly, our modern age has made my obsessive personality even more out of control. I just finished an article for NPPA on Robert Capa's Death of a Spanish Solider picture, because a series of articles have recently called its authenticity into question. Again. (This is a whole separate posting, as I had been working on a piece about this for a while, only to have it lost in a hard drive crash. I reconstructed it in less than a week after the new controversy began, finally sending the finished piece last night after two days of solid writing ... in between trips to the beach.) The internet just makes it too easy to do stuff like that (and update a blog) from a place where one is supposed to be getting away from it all.

And so I come across this: On Vacation, Leave the Photo Gear at Home and Take the iPhone Instead. Uh, no. Or rather, I understand, but vacation is for me more the time to overpack the photo bag. I decide what I haven't had the chance to really play with, or what I've really been enjoying playing with lately, and load 'er up! Last year, I took my Leica Ms and Kiev (a Russian -- or to be specific, Ukrainian -- version of the Hasselblad) to the beach along with 400 B&W film. This year I brought the Leicas and my trusty twin-lens Rollei, veteran of trips to China and Haiti. Why? Because that's the packet I wish people would want to pay me to use. That right now would really entertain me, to be contracted to go out with my Leica Ms and Rollei to spend some time somewhere to capture it. So I've made my own gig...

ADDENDUM: The Capa piece is live now on the NPPA web site.

Catching Up...

The Fourth of July in Lexington, Virginia, is like many holidays here. They seem to resemble Norman Rockwell paintings, or some other hugely unlikely, idealized version of the small town holiday...

The day begins with the children's bike parade down Main Street, starting at the public library. Decorations are handed out for the kids to use, and the mob then sets out on the downhill-sloping street for -- I don't know, about a mile? Others actually do gather to wave to the passing kids, as seen here, in front of storefronts which have also been decorated in patriotic colors. Flags hang from every lightpost.

The eventual destination, after a luncheon break of free hot dogs, lemonade, watermelon and popsicles provided by local businesses, is the parade ground (or "deck" as they prefer) at VMI. The hub of festivites rests there, with various booths for charities and sales, including snacks and drinks, a flea market of sorts, a barbeque dinner by the sponsoring Rotary Club, and a hot air balloon festival. Usually anywhere from ten to twelve balloons show up, launching in the early morning and early evening, when the wind is the most still.

Here we see the crowd watching as a balloon begins to inflate. As you can see, this year the weather was more uncertain by late afternoon, and indeed by nighttime (and the fireworks) it was lightly raining.
I shot this, and particularly like it, because it shows in its way what I think the celebration of America is all about, as well as capturing some of the cheerily chaotic festival atmosphere there.

Here several balloons have risen enough to launch, which they did shortly after, rushing off roughly Eastward at a brisk pace in what I assume was a surprisingly strong wind.

And, at day's end, the tent for the barbeque is mostly empty. I don't know whether this couple are die-hards or just extremely early for the fireworks, which wouldn't begin for another two or three hours...

All the pictures were shot with my Leica M4 and 21mm Zeiss lens on Kodak BW400CN film.

As an aside: As I waited with my girls for the bike parade to begin, the Leica around my neck, a broadly smiling man approached and, with a German accent, explained he was from Wetzlar, where the camera was made. (The factory has since moved to Solms, which he explained is nearby.) He seemed very pleased to see the Leica and I wish the circumstances had let me chat with him longer...

Addendum...

So, as she settles into the swing on her playset this afternoon, my six-year-old daughter looks up and says, utterly without preface, "I wonder what's going to happen with Michael Jackson today?"

There was a speechless, if amused, pause on my part before I could manage to say, "Well, nothing I hope. I think they're pretty much finished with Michael Jackson." Which, of course, set her off on an extended rumination, to which she is prone, on "Wouldn't it be funny if an airplane landed on Michael Jackson's grave, and they had to do something, and ..."

I've gotta' ask...

I was studiously avoiding anything Michael Jackson -- both viewing and writing -- but it was a nearly impossible task. The Memorial Service or Funeral or Celebratory Concert or whatever it was (for a short time, I tried to coin a combined term among my friends, "Funicert," but they didn't share my dark humorous sensibilities) was on every network, cable and broadcast, it seemed. There was no escaping the 14 karat, highly polished gold coffin.

Now, there's the aftermath, and having been a creature and creation of the media culture, that means reviewing the ratings. I saw a figure that 31 million people watched the event on 18 networks (one story here) which struck me as actually low. I mean, simple math breaks that down to less than 2 million people per channel, which is decent for a moderately successful cable channel (eg: SyFy just got 3 million for its newest show), but awful for a major event on a big whatever-it-is (four? five?) broadcast network...

And then there's the fact that it was omnipresent. Every broadcast network, every cable news channel and several other cable channels (like E! and TV Guide). There was no where to turn! It was Michael Jackson or SpongeBob. How many of those viewers, like me, were trapped. (Although, I was amused when one network affiliate, during the 11 p.m. news that night, announced that day's soap opera episode would be aired at 2 a.m. Couldn't they just push the plot line a day later?)

Yet, I guess the audience was skewed to the larger outlets, like the broadcasters, so maybe it did get decent ratings, trailing out through the secondary cable channels. But it's a curious set of numbers ... which I guess goes to prove the old truism often used by Reagan (naturally): There are lies, damn lies and statistics...

Again with the Leica...

So of course, in the process of filming (or rather, to be technical, video-ing, or rather high definition video-ing, which is why I prefer "filming" ... just because it's easier) Phil and his work I brought along the Nikon D-80 for production stills and my Leica M4.

A wide view of Phil in his workshop. He is paused -- something he does often to stare at the wood, or his quick, rough drawings, to gain a sense of where he is, what he's doing and (perhaps most importantly) where he's going. Sometimes it seems as if these aren't pauses at all, but the real work. The rapid, often noisy, handwork with the wood is only punctuation to the heavy lifting of thought...

A portrait, of sorts, shot as we were chatting just before I left on the first day of filming. He looks somewhat more severe than he truly is here -- and thus it's really not a good portrait, having failed to fully capture him. However, it does show some of the intensity of thought that goes into everything he says.

Finally, another view of work. This is from the first day also, when he was piecing together larger hunks of wood to form the general shape from which he would carve and rasp out the more graceful form of the piece. Again, he is in a pause, turning the wood, contemplating its place and shape.

Shot with the Leica M4 and a Zeiss 21mm f/2.8 lens on Kodak BW400CN film.

The Way We Live Now...

So, even though I'm still editing the VMI New Market project (using an usual system of editing video as a "silent movie" in essence first, then going back to the interviews to create a narration of sorts -- exactly the opposite of the usual method), I've already started filming on another project.

This is Phil Welch, a woodworker -- really an artist who works in wood -- here in Lexington. I first met him at a party, hosted by someone who had commissioned one of his works: a table in with, instead of conventional legs, a bumble bee's head and legs. It was a really impressive piece, in various tones of wood. In other words, no stain or paint, just different wood tones providing the color.

At the time, I thought that watching the creation of such a complicated piece -- not to mention the artistic effort that went into it -- would be really interesting. So I suggested to him that, next time he had a good commission to work on, he should let me know so I could film it from start to finish.

This is Phil's drawing for the commission he called me about: a large jewelry box in the shape of a woman. The final piece will be only slightly smaller than life size, with a torso serving as the box, about a foot-and-a-half or two feet tall. I guess the final piece will be about five feet tall. It will hang from brackets on a wall.

The drawings, as perhaps you can see here, are not really detailed diagrams, but more a way for him to work through ideas. Nothing is set until he really starts working the wood. However, wood being wood, as he has explained to me, once you commit to a certain shape and structure, you're pretty committed.

Here he shapes a leg. He rasps and sands the pieces like this by hand, slowly drawing the shape he wants out of the wood.

Phil's actually very humble about my film. He constantly wonders what it is that he's doing that might be interesting to watch, and constantly apologizes for, as he puts it, "not much happening" as I film. Meanwhile, I'm looking through the lens and watching him think and create ... long pauses as he stares at the wood, then rasps, then touches, then rasps again, then looks, steps back, steps in. It's really quite exciting in its way. If he only knew.

Also, I have to say he's a delight to interview; the absolute opposite of a bad interview. No question goes unanswered or inadequately considered. "What are you doing today?" might lead to an extended philosophical consideration of whether what he's doing should really be considered "art", or just "artisan" or maybe even plain old "work." Or it might just result in a review of his efforts. Usually both...