54, Archive - June 22-29, 2014
Byron-
I wanted to select a single image that would describe my photographic style and maybe a bit of my own personality. I have taken a couple of photos that have won awards at photo contests. While they are nice photos, they don't give any info about the photographer. The image I selected is one that everyone in my family knows about. My Dad would mention this photo often when we drove past the site. It is interesting to me because it is so improbable. The name of this photo (my apologies to Roger Maris) is "Against All Odds". It also shows a whimsical yet determined view of life. Much like the photographer. The story behind this photo is simple. I was driving from Pelican Rapids to Barnesville on Hwy 34. Off in the distance I saw what appeared to be a Sunflower growing out of the asphalt shoulder. Assuming it was an optical illusion, I slowed down anyway. As I got closer I could see it was no illusion. Luckily, I was carrying my trusty Rollie B40. It is a very compact full frame 35mm camera. Everything on that camera is mechanical. There is no battery anywhere. I stopped the car and framed the Sunflower to include the road ahead. This photo was taken sometime in the 1980's. I have the original print but the processor didn't stamp the date on the back. I'm glad I stopped to shoot this photo because it is super rare to see a plant of this size growing where it shouldn't grow.
I wanted to select a single image that would describe my photographic style and maybe a bit of my own personality. I have taken a couple of photos that have won awards at photo contests. While they are nice photos, they don't give any info about the photographer. The image I selected is one that everyone in my family knows about. My Dad would mention this photo often when we drove past the site. It is interesting to me because it is so improbable. The name of this photo (my apologies to Roger Maris) is "Against All Odds". It also shows a whimsical yet determined view of life. Much like the photographer. The story behind this photo is simple. I was driving from Pelican Rapids to Barnesville on Hwy 34. Off in the distance I saw what appeared to be a Sunflower growing out of the asphalt shoulder. Assuming it was an optical illusion, I slowed down anyway. As I got closer I could see it was no illusion. Luckily, I was carrying my trusty Rollie B40. It is a very compact full frame 35mm camera. Everything on that camera is mechanical. There is no battery anywhere. I stopped the car and framed the Sunflower to include the road ahead. This photo was taken sometime in the 1980's. I have the original print but the processor didn't stamp the date on the back. I'm glad I stopped to shoot this photo because it is super rare to see a plant of this size growing where it shouldn't grow.
Deron-
This photo isn't going to end up in National Geographic or the Getty Museum, but it does mean a little something to me.
I was doing an early morning, 34 mile out-and-back, solo ride into the San Gabriel Mountains... It was probably February or March. It was damp and misty, but the forecast did call for a bit of the wet stuff. There was a chill in the air, and being a Norwegian Minnesotan living in California, I hoped that I might hit some snow.
Leaving from the Upper Parking Lot on Hwy 39 above Azusa, I was climbing from the first pedal stroke... no chance to warm up on the flats.
It would have been nice to ride with someone, but most people call these kind of days 'recovery days'. I didn't mind, as I love the solitude... the smell of the rain-soaked forest and the sound of the swollen river. During this time of the year, the road was closed to traffic, so I had the 'black ribbon' all to myself. There wasn't another soul around.
Everything was going fine, but you could definitely tell that the higher I climbed, the more the weather deteriorated. Ten miles in, just past Crystal Lake, it started to rain. Not the kind of rain you write home about, but the kind of rain that makes you put your rain coat on. I kept going, as I only had 7 miles to go... 6 miles to go... 5 miles to go... 4 miles to go. Four miles to go it started snowing, lightly, but it was snowing, and I was really cold. My knit gloves, socks, shoes and knee warmers were completely soaked, but I kept going. Islip Saddle, my turn around point, was just up the road.
With 2 miles to go I was a little nervous. I was SO cold, like cold enough to start looking for a place to hunker down. I figured my best bet was going to be a drainage culvert that I was probably just able to fit in. This is the point when I took the photo.
A smart man would have turned around and headed back to the comfort of a warm car, but I'm not a smart man... I'm Norwegian. With a mile to go the weather turned ballistic! Blizzard conditions, in fact. I made it to the Saddle, but it was unrecognizable, as it was shrouded in fog and 40 mph wind-whipped snow. Goal achieved-turn around.
The 17 mile ride down was no easy feat either. I still had that culvert in mind. With frozen fingers trying to brake on a slick surface and icy toes curled up in my shoes, I finally made it back to the safety and warmth of my Subaru. (Deep breath. Exhale.) WHAT AN AWESOME DAY!
This photo isn't going to end up in National Geographic or the Getty Museum, but it does mean a little something to me.
I was doing an early morning, 34 mile out-and-back, solo ride into the San Gabriel Mountains... It was probably February or March. It was damp and misty, but the forecast did call for a bit of the wet stuff. There was a chill in the air, and being a Norwegian Minnesotan living in California, I hoped that I might hit some snow.
Leaving from the Upper Parking Lot on Hwy 39 above Azusa, I was climbing from the first pedal stroke... no chance to warm up on the flats.
It would have been nice to ride with someone, but most people call these kind of days 'recovery days'. I didn't mind, as I love the solitude... the smell of the rain-soaked forest and the sound of the swollen river. During this time of the year, the road was closed to traffic, so I had the 'black ribbon' all to myself. There wasn't another soul around.
Everything was going fine, but you could definitely tell that the higher I climbed, the more the weather deteriorated. Ten miles in, just past Crystal Lake, it started to rain. Not the kind of rain you write home about, but the kind of rain that makes you put your rain coat on. I kept going, as I only had 7 miles to go... 6 miles to go... 5 miles to go... 4 miles to go. Four miles to go it started snowing, lightly, but it was snowing, and I was really cold. My knit gloves, socks, shoes and knee warmers were completely soaked, but I kept going. Islip Saddle, my turn around point, was just up the road.
With 2 miles to go I was a little nervous. I was SO cold, like cold enough to start looking for a place to hunker down. I figured my best bet was going to be a drainage culvert that I was probably just able to fit in. This is the point when I took the photo.
A smart man would have turned around and headed back to the comfort of a warm car, but I'm not a smart man... I'm Norwegian. With a mile to go the weather turned ballistic! Blizzard conditions, in fact. I made it to the Saddle, but it was unrecognizable, as it was shrouded in fog and 40 mph wind-whipped snow. Goal achieved-turn around.
The 17 mile ride down was no easy feat either. I still had that culvert in mind. With frozen fingers trying to brake on a slick surface and icy toes curled up in my shoes, I finally made it back to the safety and warmth of my Subaru. (Deep breath. Exhale.) WHAT AN AWESOME DAY!
Paul-
Nothing unusual, clever, technically accomplished or artistically compelling this week.
I went through a few thousand archived images—selected 11 candidate photographs back as far as 1976—but kept coming back to this one…wanting to, I suppose. This is a photograph of Morris Hoffman, my father. It was taken on August 16th of last year in a rest home in Golden Valley, MN.
My dad was a man possessed of robust vigor, esoteric interests, and a sharp intellect for most of his 91 years. As these became increasing diminished by age (and the diseases that invariably accompany them), the last few years became difficult for him—and those who loved him. He found himself terribly unhappy having to surrender more than he was prepared to part with.
This photograph is very poignant for me for me in a way I won’t belabor out of good manners and a desire not to get too maudlin. I still have mixed feelings about having taken the picture. But it seemed very important in the moment. This is where he wanted to stop and rest in the late August afternoon sun.
My father passed away about month and a half after this picture was taken.
Olympus E500; 14-45mm zoom lens; shot at 45mm; 1/25 sec. at 5.6; ISO 200.
Nothing unusual, clever, technically accomplished or artistically compelling this week.
I went through a few thousand archived images—selected 11 candidate photographs back as far as 1976—but kept coming back to this one…wanting to, I suppose. This is a photograph of Morris Hoffman, my father. It was taken on August 16th of last year in a rest home in Golden Valley, MN.
My dad was a man possessed of robust vigor, esoteric interests, and a sharp intellect for most of his 91 years. As these became increasing diminished by age (and the diseases that invariably accompany them), the last few years became difficult for him—and those who loved him. He found himself terribly unhappy having to surrender more than he was prepared to part with.
This photograph is very poignant for me for me in a way I won’t belabor out of good manners and a desire not to get too maudlin. I still have mixed feelings about having taken the picture. But it seemed very important in the moment. This is where he wanted to stop and rest in the late August afternoon sun.
My father passed away about month and a half after this picture was taken.
Olympus E500; 14-45mm zoom lens; shot at 45mm; 1/25 sec. at 5.6; ISO 200.
Jerry-
Hola amigos!
Here's my archive submission. It's a photo I took back in the mid 70's while between jobs. I was at the downtown Minneapolis public library and sat across from this fellow and snapped his photo. I know nothing about the man but always noticed a bunch of retired guys of modest means who hung around downtown, passing away their last few years. The newspaper in his hands is showing flights to Reno and Denver, perhaps he's wishing he were somewhere else. I took the photo with my trusty Nikon Ftn with 105mm lens. Probably Kodak Tri-X, probably wide open at f2.5 at 1/60 or so. I still have the camera body but sold the original 105mm. Whats attached to it these days is an early version of the 105, marked as 10.5 cm. Its fully functional but is mostly kind of a paper weight these days.
Hola amigos!
Here's my archive submission. It's a photo I took back in the mid 70's while between jobs. I was at the downtown Minneapolis public library and sat across from this fellow and snapped his photo. I know nothing about the man but always noticed a bunch of retired guys of modest means who hung around downtown, passing away their last few years. The newspaper in his hands is showing flights to Reno and Denver, perhaps he's wishing he were somewhere else. I took the photo with my trusty Nikon Ftn with 105mm lens. Probably Kodak Tri-X, probably wide open at f2.5 at 1/60 or so. I still have the camera body but sold the original 105mm. Whats attached to it these days is an early version of the 105, marked as 10.5 cm. Its fully functional but is mostly kind of a paper weight these days.
Kevin-
Wow, this was an especially challenging WPOTM theme. Not capturing a new image but deciding which past, year-old or more image is most worth sharing.
I have 50,000 images in my digital photo library, going back over 10 years now. But I also have thousand and thousands of color prints, black and white negatives and color slides.
I thought about lots of different images, from Bruce Springsteen in concert, captured in 1977, because it’s the type of concert photo that you just can’t capture anymore unless you have a press pass, and even then it would be difficult to what is still my favorite-ever portrait session, shot about 9 years ago.
But then I realized that one photograph I took probably did more to change my life in a positive way than any other image. It would have been around 1977. I had become a student at Hennepin Technical Center, (now Hennepin Technical College), a place that both Byron and Jerry know well. I had just stated taking a Commercial Photography class. The instructor was not very good. But the positive thing about him was the it was pretty easy to do whatever you wanted to do. And I wanted to capture a great image of a Maxell cassette tape. I set up a 4”x5” view camera and some lights (hot lights, which unfortunately resulted in a couple of melted cassettes). The lighting was really challenging as I wanted to rim light the tape all the way around. I also poked a hole in the black background and put a cross-star filer on the lens to get the little light burst in the corner. I shot cassettes several times over a week or so trying to perfect the result (which I guess I still sometimes do during WPOTM themes). Some of the photos were color and some were black and white like the image I feature here. I no longer know the color transparencies are and the color print is a 16”x20” Cibachrome, and I definitely don’t have a scanner that can handle that. But I had a 8”x10” black and white print from one of the sessions that I could scan, which is what you see here.
So, why might this be the most important image I ever shot? After attending HTC, I went to work as a salesman and then a store manager for Century Camera (where by the way I sold some prints of the Springsteen image while Paul and I worked in the Stadium Village store next to the University of Minnesota campus). But after a few years working at Century Camera I decided to apply for the position of Advertising Photographer at Schaak Electronics. My portfolio featured this Maxall photo, along with a number of other electronics components I had photographed at HTC. I was offered the job during the initial interview! That job later led to my first position at the Sound of Music, which became Best Buy, and the rest is history.
Wow, this was an especially challenging WPOTM theme. Not capturing a new image but deciding which past, year-old or more image is most worth sharing.
I have 50,000 images in my digital photo library, going back over 10 years now. But I also have thousand and thousands of color prints, black and white negatives and color slides.
I thought about lots of different images, from Bruce Springsteen in concert, captured in 1977, because it’s the type of concert photo that you just can’t capture anymore unless you have a press pass, and even then it would be difficult to what is still my favorite-ever portrait session, shot about 9 years ago.
But then I realized that one photograph I took probably did more to change my life in a positive way than any other image. It would have been around 1977. I had become a student at Hennepin Technical Center, (now Hennepin Technical College), a place that both Byron and Jerry know well. I had just stated taking a Commercial Photography class. The instructor was not very good. But the positive thing about him was the it was pretty easy to do whatever you wanted to do. And I wanted to capture a great image of a Maxell cassette tape. I set up a 4”x5” view camera and some lights (hot lights, which unfortunately resulted in a couple of melted cassettes). The lighting was really challenging as I wanted to rim light the tape all the way around. I also poked a hole in the black background and put a cross-star filer on the lens to get the little light burst in the corner. I shot cassettes several times over a week or so trying to perfect the result (which I guess I still sometimes do during WPOTM themes). Some of the photos were color and some were black and white like the image I feature here. I no longer know the color transparencies are and the color print is a 16”x20” Cibachrome, and I definitely don’t have a scanner that can handle that. But I had a 8”x10” black and white print from one of the sessions that I could scan, which is what you see here.
So, why might this be the most important image I ever shot? After attending HTC, I went to work as a salesman and then a store manager for Century Camera (where by the way I sold some prints of the Springsteen image while Paul and I worked in the Stadium Village store next to the University of Minnesota campus). But after a few years working at Century Camera I decided to apply for the position of Advertising Photographer at Schaak Electronics. My portfolio featured this Maxall photo, along with a number of other electronics components I had photographed at HTC. I was offered the job during the initial interview! That job later led to my first position at the Sound of Music, which became Best Buy, and the rest is history.