State College in Black and White: Day Before the Game

Haircut day equals street photography day, so here are a bunch from Friday morning.

My original goal with this project had been to shoot on the street downtown and largely avoid the campus itself. I was interested most in seeing what I could photograph in a city much smaller than the one I’d moved from years ago. While I do think downtown could use a bit more attention as a city all its own, though, I realized more recently that to cut the campus out entirely from a project that’s about documenting downtown is to ignore much of what makes downtown what it is, at times for better or worse. So, though I’ll try to maintain my focus on the areas outside the gates, I do think it makes sense to shoot on campus now and then.

Friday was the day before Penn State’s ”White Out” game against Auburn, so there was a bit more activity on and around campus than usual, including the setup and supporting vehicles for Saturday’s ESPN Game Day broadcast on the lawn in front of the iconic Old Main administration building.

Large patio, lawn, with ESPN Game Day broadcast setup in the distance.

The following are from inside a classroom building in the middle of a class period. As with any college campus, there’s an ebb and flow of pedestrian traffic depending on the time of day. Below is a quiet scene, but when classes are changing, it’s just seas of humans moving everywhere between and within buildings, as if it were the world’s biggest game of musical chairs.

The following doesn’t fit into any particular category, except, perhaps, that it exhibits the type of shot more easily done with a phone than with a standalone camera. Though I am occasionally happy with the close in street shots I sometimes get, I do feel like I aesthetically gravitate more towards wider compositions that more purposefully place the subject in relation to the surrounding area, such as the shot of the persons crossing in front of the bus above.

COVID-19 Signage Project: Introduction

This is the first post from my long-term photography project titled “COVID–19 Signage Project”[^1]. It’s a collection of photos I’ve been taking since roughly March of 2020, and the subjects are pieces of printed signage related to the COVID–19 pandemic. While I probably took the earliest of these photos because I find simple, straight shots of signage inherently interesting, I started collecting them more deliberately as summer 2020 got closer. That summer I’d be teaching an online course in technical writing, and the course emphasizes that technical writing exists all around us, and that it tends to reflect the culture and values of the persons and organizations that produce it[^2].

This made me wonder: In the midst of a pressing, public health crisis, what are the ways in which signage might capture the culture and values of the persons and organizations that produce it?

2021-09-16 Origins and Project Description - 2.jpeg

They might be captured in the tone and colors of the signage, indicating a company’s interest in maintaining coherence between this signage and their brand identity (Sheetz does a great job with this), or, they might be captured in the language used to communicate the message. After all, there is a difference between “No Mask? No Service!” and “Governor Tom Wolf has ordered that all customers must wear a mask when entering our business.”

Nuances of sentence structure, tone, and punctuation say a whole darn lot, especially during a crisis and especially in a medium in which the audience’s attention span and the amount of available display real estate are limited.

Outside of culture and values, the ways that businesses produced these signs also indicates the company’s resources in the midst of this disaster. For a large chain, signs might be printed as colorful window decals. For a small local bar owner, the available means might be a sharpie, a piece of posterboard, and a procedure mask.

I ultimately didn’t carve out a spot for using these in my technical writing course, so the purpose shifted from collecting images for use in class to collecting images for an ongoing photography project, and the form of it has since been influenced by interviews I listened to featuring photographers Scott Strazzante and Neil Kramer. The scope of it has also ultimately gotten a bit wider, as my purpose has expanded to include documenting in my own way the shifting winds of the pandemic and the state and business responses to it over the course of over a year.

Like many, I would have thought or hoped that the pandemic would have ended by now. Tragically, that is not the case. Now and then, I think that this project is done, only for a guidance to change, or for case numbers to spike, and then these signs shift in messaging. The passage of time also makes these signs interesting because, particularly evident in the ones left in place since the pandemic’s onset, they age.

2021-09-16 Origins and Project Description - 7.jpeg

Like us, these bits of paper or plastic did not expect to be in pandemic-world for this long.

In terms of organizational method, I am grouping these photos by the specific language they use or a theme that I’ve seen in them. Unfortunately, full-time graduate school work does not leave me the time to caption these with location, time, and date. What this means is that a given post may include photos from both early and late in the pandemic grouped together, without a clear visual indicator for when the photo was taken (though, if you dig, it’s possible that that metadata still shows up if you download the photo).

So given all that, I encourage you to read this not as a linear, historical record of pandemic signage, but as clusters of related images.

2021-09-16 Origins and Project Description - 6.jpeg

Finally, these are signs that I came across in my own day to day experiences. This means that they are far from comprehensive in terms of capturing anything close to the pandemic’s signage as a whole. This also means that they are coming from someone existing in some very particular places (mostly central Pennsylvania, but also, among others, the Philadelphia suburbs, Baltimore, northeast Pennsylvania, and Ogunquit, Maine), and from someone of the privileged upper-middle class, with the financial wherewithal to own the phones or standalone cameras used to take the photos, the leisure time to write these blog posts and share the photos, and the habits of day-to-day life and travel that include patronizing the retail establishments and restaurants that are the venue for a majority of these images.

In that sense, this is a sort of unintentional journal of me and my own activities as well. That’s I guess fitting, because I am quite literally reflected in many of these images. I tried dodging my way out of the reflections on doors and windows, but soon decided to just go with it.

  1. It’s not the most clever title, but I’ve thought of it this way for months now, and barring any very compelling reasons, I guess that’s just what I’ll call it   ↩

  2. The latter is one of the core characteristics of technical communication, as described in the course’s textbook, Technical Communication, by Mike Markel and Stuart Selber ↩

State College in Black and White, June 18, 2021

The time I can spend on my State College in Black and White photo project has, for the most part, been limited to when I’m already downtown and have just a bit of time to kill. So, if anything, these are basically photo records of “Days When Rob Went and Got a Haircut.” As has been the case with (I think) all of the photos in this project thus far, I took these on my Ricoh GR II, a small and discreet camera ideal for street photography (that is, if you can nowadays use a camera that’s not a phone and still consider that discreet).

Next time I’m shooting downtown, I’ll see what I can do with just my iPhone. I very much enjoy using a dedicated camera, but I know from past experience that there are shots I can get with my phone that I wouldn’t be able to get with a larger, standalone camera.

2021-06-18 State College in Black and White - 1.jpeg
2021-06-18 State College in Black and White - 3.jpeg
2021-06-18 State College in Black and White - 4.jpeg
2021-06-18 State College in Black and White - 5.jpeg
2021-06-18 State College in Black and White - 7.jpeg

The Olympus Stylus 120, Shooting Portra 800 film

Last year, in search of what I had thought of as my old film stuff (i.e. the films and camera I’d used in 2013), I dug through a bunch of large plastic storage tubs that had migrated with me, mostly unexamined and absolutely never unpacked, from Fordham University dorm to Bronx and Queens apartments to central Pennsylvania house. I did find the Canon AE-1 I wrote about last November, as well as a bunch of expired film, but I also found this—an Olympus Stylus 120 compact camera dating back to 2004.

IMG_3226.jpeg

I have to admit that I had forgotten that I owned this camera—it almost certainly had been a gift from my parents in 2004, when this model came out. But I had probably forgotten about it because I’d also received my first digital camera, a Sony Cybershot, at most a year later in early 2005. (So, for one, thank you so much, my generous, camera-enthusiast parents!) From a quick glance through old piles of photos, I probably put only a few rolls of film through it before picking up my digital point and shoot and never looking back.

From Fall of 2004. I guess I asked someone to use my camera to take a photo of me working? I have no other explanation. Note other signs of the technological times: CRT monitor, wired rolling ball mouse, and LG flip phone.

From Fall of 2004. I guess I asked someone to use my camera to take a photo of me working? I have no other explanation. Note other signs of the technological times: CRT monitor, wired rolling ball mouse, and LG flip phone.

Also likely Fall 2004. The Statue of Liberty from the Staten Island Ferry.

Also likely Fall 2004. The Statue of Liberty from the Staten Island Ferry.

Looking back now, I am kind of amused at the difference a few years makes. I may well have seen this camera in the storage tub in 2013, but at that point, nine years after I’d received the camera, I guess it had not seemed to present a particular value or photographic opportunity that I was interested in exploring more at that time.

Today, with this camera being nearly old enough to vote, I’m much more drawn to it. This is almost certainly influenced by the amount of point-and-shoot film camera hype that’s circulating online nowadays, but (now being a parent) I also appreciate the value of a point-and-shoot camera much more. This isn’t to say that I’m not still guilty of stopping in my tracks to fiddle with camera settings and take a picture, but as moments are fleeting and the amount of other things to be attended to is high, it feels nice to be able to take a camera out and snap a shot, knowing that it will result in a reasonably high quality image with a (now) distinctive film look to it, with minimal intervention on my own part.

The following are a few of the shots I took with the camera, loaded up with Kodak Portra 800 film. Portra 800 is a professional film stock, and is designed to do well in situations with a bit less light (think late afternoon/dusk). Though common wisdom is to overexpose it, I shot it here at box speed, as I didn’t want to fiddle with modifying the film’s DX code to convince it to do otherwise. I’ve only shot with a handful of film stocks, but of those, I do find myself liking Portra 800 a great deal. It can do a good job with skin tones and portrait style photos, but the colors can also be quite saturated and striking, depending on the lighting. I’ve yet to develop a good sense of what look it will express in a given circumstance, but the fact that it will usually do a pretty good job across a range of subject types provides a nice little safety blanket underneath a range of potentially surprising outcomes (and those are what make film an appealing medium to me after all).

The Olympus Stylus 120, for me and for camera history in general, sat at this moment in which mass market photography was starting to shift from film cameras to digital cameras (and it has since shifted further, to digital cameras in phones). I’m very happy with how these shots came out, and am also happy that this camera remained in good operating condition, despite being relatively untouched for nearly two decades!

20210506-000333580016.jpg

"DOES IT GET ANY BETTER THAN THIS?": Summer Afternoon Street Photography in Times Square

 
20160715-R0001469.jpeg

It's often joked about that tourists and the people who actually live in New York have vastly different opinions on and experiences of Times Square. In short, the former make some kind of effort to go to there; the latter make every possible effort to avoid it.

20160715-R0001486.jpeg

While living in New York, I did my share of avoiding Times Square where possible, but I'd qualify that by saying that the more I took photos on the street, the more time actually spent there. At the very least, if, like on this summer Friday in 2016, I had some time to kill, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to wander down there and take a few shots.

20160715-R0001472.jpeg
20160715-R0001483.jpeg
20160715-R0001497.jpeg

This location attracted me because, admittedly, I am not a particularly bold street photographer. I don't want to get right up into people's faces, and I don't want to provoke a confrontation with anyone. Though it may limit just what sort of shots I can take, I am most comfortable shooting on the street when I know I can easily blend in to my surroundings.

20160715-R0001492.jpeg

Times Square is perfect, sort of, because there are a lot of different looking people from all over, clustered into this relatively small geographic area, and most of the time, they're looking not at me taking a picture, but at the bombardment of billboards, lights, skyscrapers, and costumed characters around them. And, if people see me taking a picture, I don't stand out all that much—it's Times Square. A lot of people are taking pictures.

Its main problem, though, is that there is so much going on and so many people around that it can be hard to find a clear subject. And I've often shot first and figured that I'd sort it out later through cropping. (It's not a great habit, and I do aim to do better.)

20160715-R0001473.jpeg

Still, by sheer saturation of people and how they cluster and group, even using that fingers-crossed method, it isn't too hard to find at least something.

20160715-R0001479.jpeg

As I went back through these, I noticed a contradiction to the common wisdom about differing tourist and New Yorker opinions on Times Square. That Hyundai Elantra billboard that asks "DOES IT GET ANY BETTER THAN THIS?" feels like some sort of mean trick, because I don't get the sense that that's the sentiment of many of the persons sitting on these steps. Most look about as happy as New Yorkers teleported from a few blocks over into this peculiar public space, this bank of steps on which one sits as if to watch a show, but, to anyone walking uptown, you there sitting on the steps are the show.

20160715-R0001484.jpeg

In fact, aside from this one photo I have of a happy photographer walking away with their shot (come to think of it, given what I just wrote, they very well could've taken a photo of me and I didn't even know it), it looks like I didn't see many thrilled or excited people that summer Friday afternoon.

20160715-R0001466.jpeg

It also turns out that, at the time I was shooting this, it was a whopping 92 degrees in New York City. So I can understand how, after however many hours of travelling or walking, one finds oneself here in the supposed center of the universe, it's boiling hot, and you're catching your breath in front of a sign that suggests that you are supposed to be having the most amazing time right now.

20160715-R0001481.jpeg

I empathize, in part because I now realize I lived through a different version of roughly this same scenario.

My wife and I vacationed in France in August of 2018. We arrived excited, but also quite jet-lagged and exhausted, and we just so happened to get there on the trailing end of a sever heat wave. But, having read A Moveable Feast a few months earlier, I was eager to visit Ernest Hemingway's old haunts, and that's how we found ourselves having lunch in the outdoor café section of Le Select, quite hot and very uncomfortable, with few actual Parisians in sight.

Le Select.JPG

The only thing we would need to complete the picture would be a billboard behind us saying in French, "DOES IT GET ANY BETTER THAN THIS?".

State College on a Thursday at 8:30 a.m.

 
20210513-08-53-42-RN000248.jpeg

Until now, I've never really thought of my photography in terms of projects—that is, in terms of long term choices of subject and/or style that might add up to some sort of larger whole. Series of daily posts or single blog posts about a topic or event were the largest sized chunks that I'd think about.

But in the past few weeks, as I've gone down a rabbit hole of listening to photography podcast after photography podcast, I've grown more aware of photographers talking about their projects—these ongoing works intended towards some eventual, curated whole, but whose end form isn't often very well defined in advance. While examples are many, the ones I have in mind are things like Kyle McDougall's project on the American southwest, discussed occasionally in his podcast The Contact Sheet, Neil Kramer's Quarantine in Queens, and Angela Douglas's Slowly Drowning. Work like this appeals to me because of its blend of top-down and bottom-up structure—while some intention drives the activity of going out and taking these photos (or, in Kramer's case, taking these photos while compelled to stay in), it is regular practice and the passage of time that give the photographer the perspective that enables them to say when it is done and what photos comprise the end product.

I'm hoping to turn the practice I started during my break—doing street photography in downtown State College—into one such project of my own. Though I'm a drive away from downtown, I'm there or pass through there often enough that I can do it somewhat regularly. And, as I am in year four of a six year graduate program, there is probably going to be a de facto end to the project in the future, which should provide just enough of a framework to keep me focused on getting out and taking photos as consistently as I can.

This is a bit more intentional than street photography I'd done in New York, in which I'd mostly take photos on the way to and from work. But I hope this intentionality helps me pay more attention and think more about not just getting a shot, but getting a good one. So I'm hoping to dig in, spend some time, and get a better sense of how light, shadow, and the flow of traffic and persons behave in this particular place at various times of day throughout the year.

That was the idea behind these photos, taken this past Thursday between 8:30 and 9:30 a.m. with a Ricoh GR II (shooting in JPG using the high-contrast black and white effect). I tried to keep an eye out for good light and interesting compositions, and also to start taking some mental notes on where to go and what to try and shoot if I'm downtown early on a weekday. Here's a bit of what I found.

20210513-08-35-39-RN000231.jpeg

There's a stereotypical street photography shot that often comes up on Instagram in which someone is walking into or out of a hard shadow cast against a wall. In one episode of The Contact Sheet, Sean Tucker joked about how this move isn't really all that hard to do. So I decided to make it a goal to try and do it that morning, and while this isn't a perfect example of it, surely enough, there's a spot on Fraser Street where a shadow casts a hard line against the wall at this time of day, with an added bonus of this happening against this tiled wall. As Tucker said, not all that difficult to find, but probably requires just a bit more patience and time to take the shot at just the right time with just the right subject crossing that line.

20210513-08-42-47-RN000236.jpeg

Since one of my goals for the day was finding interesting light and shadow, I did find College Avenue to be a bit of a dud, in that the sidewalk opposite campus, where the shops and restaurants are, is largely in shadow at that point. There was, though, this tableau across the street, with Penn State's iconic Old Main in the background. Only during editing did I notice the reflection on the roof of the car in the foreground.

20210513-08-45-46-RN000241.jpeg

I feel like the physical infrastructure of State College is very much on display. Maybe it's just because I was going through alleys to get from spot to spot, but looking back through the photos I shot, there are plenty of power lines and, on the sides of buildings, wiring and air conditioner tubing. It's enough that that infrastructure could probably be a sub-project in itself.

20210513-09-12-17-RN000258.jpeg

Its presence in some places and absence in others in a way marks the passage of time, as blocks of irregular buildings with their wires and tubes become replaced by large high rises.

20210513-08-37-22-RN000233.jpeg

Downtown State College in High Contrast Black and White

 
20210429-RN000019.jpeg

After finishing my comprehensive exams, I took a week off to decompress my brain and I spent a lot of time on photography—editing photos, taking photos, and listening to photography podcasts. One of those podcast episodes featured an interview with street photographer Valérie Jardin, and one comment of hers that stuck with me the most was her description of how she shoots. Now when it comes to editing photos, RAW files provide the most amount of flexibility—this is the data from your camera's sensor, and you decide how that data gets interpreted (in simplest terms, when you edit the photo and drag the sliders around, they can go a lot further before your image starts to look really weird. That dark shot in the bar can actually become usable).

This is not how Jardin photographs—instead, she shoots in JPG (the camera makes a lot of those decisions for you you can't really wind that stuff back [though in all honesty, your camera's probably doing a pretty good job anyway]), and she shoots in black and white. Her philosophy is that you should know whether the shot is going to be in color or black and white before you snap the photo.

20210429-RN000036.jpeg

This is a challenging notion for me to internalize because I admit that I do enjoy editing my photos after I've taken them. Just about every photo I post has been tweaked or fussed with in some way. Not in an egregious way—no missiles were photoshopped in the making of these photos. But I lift up the super dark parts of the photos so detail there is visible, I pull down blown out highlights, I increase or decrease the saturation or vibrancy of the image, I crop and adjust, I turn them into black and white after the fact.

So one of my photo projects during my break was to take that notion of shooting the photo and letting it be and applying it. I did this a few times before—in 2016, shortly after I got my Ricoh GR II), I took a bunch of shots around New York using my camera's built-in high contrast black and white JPG mode. After listening to the interview, I went back and looked at those shots, and I confess I felt pretty happy with how they turned out. After all, here's a bearded guy in sunglasses crossing Lexington Avenue on a scooter and he seems to be having an awesome time.

20210429-RN000037.jpeg

I do not live in New York anymore, so I couldn't repeat this exercise in quite the same way. But I also stepped back for a second and wondered—well why haven't I at least tried? In moving to central Pennsylvania, I knew that life here was going to be much different, and I kinda think I had over-absorbed that into what I'd decided to photograph.

So aside from the low-hanging fruit of photo subjects on a large college campus—nice trees, grassy quads, and distinguished-looking buildings—I have focused on those things that look like the most obvious subjects for this rural (and quite scenic) region: nature paths and forests from our walks (per COVID-19 world, we took a lot more walks last year).

But the thought never occurred to me to go downtown just to take photos.

20210429-RN000016.jpeg

So, among the luxuries I gave myself during my week off, was spending an hour on Thursday morning taking shots around downtown State College. I had a lot of fun, and I did enjoy once again the constraints of shooting a photos whose characteristics had already been largely predetermined: lots of contrast, heavy vignettes, and not much to be done in editing. There are fewer ways to tweak, fuss, and adjust when those characteristics have been baked into the image file. I still edited things—here and there doing a small crop and using the clone stamp to patch over those parts of the frame marred with sensor dust…

20210429-RN000041.jpeg

but otherwise I've tried to leave these as they were and let go for a bit, which is, after all, the whole point of taking some time off.

20210429-RN000044.jpeg

An Astoria Evening (2016)

These photos are all from the same evening in May of 2016, starting around six and ending at eleven-thirty. Looking at them all together, it is a sort of reconstruction of what would have been a pretty average weekend day—we headed from Ditmars down to Mar’s for dinner, and then a while later, stopped in at the Let Love Inn to hang out with folks before heading home. We didn’t go to these exact places every weekend, but the itinerary of these few hours reminds me of one of the things I love about Astoria—you can walk it, up and down, without getting too worn out, you can meet up on a whim with friends who also live in the neighborhood, and hang out at some delightful spots along the way.

So these are all shots from a perfectly average, random, weekend evening in Astoria, the sort that I absolutely loved.

Under the Underpass, 23rd Avenue

Under the Underpass, 23rd Avenue

At Mar’s

At Mar’s

Astoria Boulevard

Astoria Boulevard

The Let Love Inn

The Let Love Inn

Courtyard Entrance

Courtyard Entrance

Color Temperature Variations

Color Temperature Variations

Gas Station Variations

 
Gas Station, as shot | iPhone 7 using the Lightroom camera

Gas Station, as shot | iPhone 7 using the Lightroom camera

Gas Station, after editing | iPhone 7 using the Lightroom camera

Gas Station, after editing | iPhone 7 using the Lightroom camera

I follow a few analog film stock hashtags on Instagram, and images of gas stations at night come up very often, particularly if the film is CineStill 800T. The color temperature of CineStill 800T is such that in images taken with it, the light appears very blue or green. On the one hand, it’s gotten to the point that I see this as a pretty well-worn cliche. Does Instagram truly need one more blue/green gas station at night? (search Instagram for it; you will indeed find many.) 

On the other, I can see some appeal here.

An unedited smartphone image of a gas station might look pretty close to the way it actually appears to the eye. I’d qualify this by saying that it’s not always the case, and how the image appears is very much mediated by programming decisions in the camera software. Still— I’d say it’s at the very least closer to my eyes as  the way it actually is than what usually appears in the CineStill 800T shots.

But the Cinestill 800T ones *look* more real or more cinematic (resonating with the Cinestill brand here) in part because they look like what a gas station in the middle of the night is supposed to feel like.

Without specific evidence (but with a reasonable amount of confidence), I’d say that movies and TV shows influence the way we expect things to look like. The scenes from movies and TV shows that we see at gas stations aren’t usually happy go lucky affairs (except maybe for in Zoolander, before the freak gasoline fight accident). Gas station scenes, particularly at night, tend to be ominous, foreboding, and creepy, and that’s the sort of feeling that blue/green (particularly green) light lends itself towards.

So, maybe green gas stations at night have something going for them after all.

This is my go at it, not with CineStill 800T but with editing to try and roughly approximate it. I took an image using Adobe LightRoom on my iPhone 7. The first version shown here is cropped, but there are no other edits. I’ve fussed with the second version to try to expose more in the shadows and bring down the highlights, but also to add some grain and change colors to that blue/green look.

Happy Easter: Posting a Fall 2020 photo in Spring of 2021

 
Geneva, New York | October 5, 2020 | Ricoh GRII

Geneva, New York | October 5, 2020 | Ricoh GRII

This is the most Easter-appropriate shot from my "to post" queue. Easter is associated with rebirth, new beginnings, and, biblically—after a period of suffering, death, mourning, and fear—a miracle that promised hope for the future.

Though these associations might be best captured with a sunrise, this photograph is actually of a sunset, one in Geneva, New York, taken in early October of 2020, when the number of Coronavirus deaths had already seemed impossible to grasp (though that number was still far lower than the total 553,681 Coronavirus deaths in the US as of today), and when, as I recall at least, new cases were lower than they had been over the summer, a brief almost-respite before they would skyrocket as we plodded our way into the winter.

Pairing the image of a setting sun from that time with the Easter holiday that I'd associate more with a rising sun feels apt in this particular moment, in which case numbers are rising yet again—a 19% increase over the average from two weeks ago, according to the New York Times today.

It feels like a teeter-tottering moment right now.

With vaccinations continuing to roll out, it would seem unlikely or even impossible that, even with the current new cases upswing, things will be worse than they were. But to even use the way things were in the fall of 2020 as a point of comparison for how good we're doing feels like a particularly macabre version of grading on the world's worst curve.

Continue to hope that tomorrow will be better, but continue to do all of those things—masks, social distancing, hand washing, and vaccinations as possible—that will help ensure that will be the case.

Cheers to a Happy Easter, and a better tomorrow.

Paris and London, May 2016

 

I took these during our honeymoon in 2016. We spent most of our time in London, and did an overnight trip to Paris to break things up. Right after the trip, I jumped ahead of the queue and posted most of the London ones, but these were on a separate memory card that I thought I'd misplaced and didn't find until a little while later.

We were only in Paris for roughly 24 hours, and it was overcast and rainy the whole time, but we loved it anyway. I hope these travel photos from the time before might provide a bit of a break from whatever COVID-19-inflected routine you've been working through.

Hotel Relais Saint Sulpice Paris

Hotel Relais Saint Sulpice
Paris

Jardin du Luxembourg

Jardin du Luxembourg

We were wandering in the street in the rain, and heard what sounded like an orchestra playing the Imperial March from Star Wars. With few fixed plans, we followed the sound into the park and found our way here.

Rue Saint-André-des-Arts

Rue Saint-André-des-Arts

5:30 a.m.

5:30 a.m.

On our wedding day while chatting with our photographer, Melvin Gilbert, we realized that we would be in Paris at the same time. He met up with us before dawn and took photos of us with the Eiffel Tower as our background. I grabbed a few shots like this one while we were there. We’re so glad he suggested we do this shoot, because in addition to the amazing photos he took of us, we were able to see the tower at dawn, at a quiet hour that we likely would not have witnessed if left to our own devices!

9:52 p.m. 186 Portobello Road

9:52 p.m.
186 Portobello Road

Back to Film (Canon AE-1 Program, Portra 800)

 
Spring Creek Canyon Trail September 2020

Spring Creek Canyon Trail
September 2020

I've started shooting film again, using a Canon AE-1 Program that my sister and brother-in-law gifted to me eight years ago (thanks again!). I think film photography has become my COVID hobby, but one that I hope will stick with me after the pandemic has dissipated.

Way Fruit Farm September 19, 2020

Way Fruit Farm
September 19, 2020

I appreciate film photography's slower and more deliberate pace. This is a cliché to say, but it's quite true. And the constraint of a limited number of exposures motivates me to be more selective with what I choose to shoot.

Sure, I could self-impose that constraint on my digital photography, but as someone who's made (and blown) self-imposed deadlines for many writing projects, I'm betting that that would work out quite differently.

It's also just a neat change of pace to take an image in a way that is not digitally mediated. It ultimately is, of course—the film is scanned at the lab I use for processing. But at the point of capture, it is light interacting with film, the same film that I receive back a few weeks later in the mail. And if my hard drive were to fail, and my cloud backups and the rest of the internet were to disappear tomorrow (note, I do not want either of these things to happen), those negatives will still exist, in their plastic sleeve and paper envelope, and I kind of like the thought of that.

Sunset in the Woods State College, PA September 2020

Sunset in the Woods
State College, PA
September 2020