A few weeks ago, one of our Portraiture II assignments was to shoot a high or low key portrait. It doesn’t happen very often, but I had what I sometimes refer to as “a lightbulb moment”. It’s one of those times when, without much effort, a wonderful idea just magically pops into your head. My magical idea was to shoot a low-key portrait of Aarion dressed in characteristic Rastafarian fashion. It is only fair at this point that I should mention that I was born and raised in Jamaica, so I am very familiar with the history and origins of the Rastafarian movement. In a nutshell, this was an opportunity for an old man to reminisce about his youth and revel in old memories of his homeland.

Without any hesitation, Aarion readily agreed to sit for me, and the hunt was on to find garb and props in the required bright red,yellow and green colored bands that are commonly worn by Rastafarians. My old high school friend, Louis Hopkins and his wife Diana, who also reside here in the Atlanta area, were enormously helpful in providing not only a knitted cap and belt, but also a carved staff, an accessory that no self-respecting well dressed Rastafarian would leave home without. A quick shopping trip into the Little Five Points neighborhood of Atlanta produced several colorful badges depicting Africa, Haile Selassie, and cannabis, which, as I’m sure we all know,  is an essential component of many Rastafarian ceremonies.

The lighting was simple: one main light and a reflector in front, and a back light behind to try and give a sort of mystical aura to his magnificent dreadlocks. In a few shots, I lay on the floor shooting up, trying to capture the power of this proud Maasai warrior.

My eternal thanks to Aarion who was a good and patient subject, to my classmates Minh Duc Doan and Rebecca Hardin for their able assistance, and to Louis and Diana Hopkins for the loan of the props.

This project was a lot of fun and I think we got some great shots, but then, I’m supposed to think that way. What do you think?

Armed with only three prime lenses, a 24mm F2.8, a 50mm F1.8, a 105mm F2.8, and my new 80-200 F2.8, I headed out on a spectacularly beautiful Saturday evening, the final night of the fair. Despite the best attempts by the thundering hordes of dysfunctional drivers also, it seemed, heading to the fair, I finally arrived, parked and navigated my way through diverse, never-ending waves of humanity to the ticket booth, and finally, crossing the entrance portal, I was at the fair.

Amanda was right. For a photographer, this was like sitting down to a feast of all your favorite dishes. Young and old, tall and short, fat and slim, people of all ethnicities and religious persuasions, laughed, rode, ate and drank, in a frenzy of merriment that I had not seen in a long time. For the next three hours I managed to lose myself shooting, experimenting, and delighting in this unique atmosphere that only events like this can create.

I won’t have to be pushed to go to the next county fair.

Accompanied by three classmates, I drove the 266 miles from Atlanta, uncertain of what to expect, but somehow hoping that the day’s events might finally bring this sad saga to a logical conclusion. I am deliberately steering around the frequently overused and well worn reference to “closure”, since my belief is that there is no such thing. My own father was the victim of a gunman’s bullet 33 years ago, and while I have learned to live with that reality, the pain of losing my father in that fashion never goes away, nor do I expect it to ever go away.

Attended by several hundred mourners, we arrived just as the service was starting. We quickly discovered that no cameras were being allowed into the sanctuary. The story that I got from a gentleman who appeared to be part of a security detail,was that the NAACP had made all of the arrangements and it was their stipulation that only one photographer was being permitted into the sanctuary, and that other press personnel would have to obtain copies from that source. OK, it’s a funeral. We will be respectful.

We were directed to the “press pool” in the parking lot in back of the church where a number of real professional print and television crews had set up camp. After we introduced ourselves as photography students, a few of the pros chatted with us for a while, occasionally dropping tiny little gems of journalistic knowledge, that we were only too happy to scoop up and store away for future use. The rest for the most part sat around entertaining themselves in conversation for the three and three-quarters hours that the service lasted.

When the service finally ended, for reasons that are beyond my comprehension, the press was restricted from any view of the casket as it was borne out of the church to the awaiting hearse. I must confess, I was a little mystified by this treatment of the press, since the press had played such an important role in bringing the Troy Davis story to public attention.

Sadly, I do not believe that we will ever know the truth. From my humble perspective, the “truth” became another victim of a degenerate process that appears to put the achievement of political victory ahead of the search for truth. In this process the truth may have been deliberately obliterated by overzealous prosecutors and by those who simply needed to create the cloud of doubt required to support their arguments against the death penalty. Seven recantations of nine witnesses is, to say the least, an unusual event. Why did these seven decide that the evidence they gave originally was false?  Couple that question with claims that the original witnesses were coerced by prosecutors and law enforcement into giving false testimony, and suddenly the search for “truth” in our system of justice lies dead on the sidewalk. Stabbed to death by political agents whose agendas have been permitted to surpass the importance of finding justice for not one, but two citizens.

OK that’s my soap box. I don’t know what to believe anymore beyond what I saw when I, and one of my classmates, went to the Georgia Correctional Facility in Jackson GA the night Troy Davis was executed.

My thanks to Jessie and to Jamie. The shoot went very well and I was very pleased with the images that I got.

OK. I’ll be serious for a moment. I especially dislike pets that are spoilt, not well behaved or just have the devil in them. On the other hand, I like my brother’s little Yorkie, Fritz, because he has learned to obey and behave while preserving his fun-filled and playful spirit. Likewise, my girlfriend’s son Chris and his wife Amy have a wonderful black Lab named Rocky who has friendly demeanor and quiet loyalty has gotten my attention. If it were possible to clone Rocky, it is possible that I might (I said “might”) be persuaded to have a dog. There, I said it. I can’t believe I said that! But I did. Must be old age or something.

Anyway, when we were required to shoot portraits of pets in our Portraiture class a few weeks ago, I asked Chris and Amy to “loan” Rocky for a day. While they graciously consented, my choice did cause a little consternation for my brother and sister-in-law who felt a little disappointed that Rocky had been chosen over Fritz. Needless to say that this did require some fast talking and promises to make amends. I chose Rocky because I thought that he was more laid back than Fritz, and therefore less likely to get freaked by the flashing of strobes in the studio.

Well, as expected, Rocky was a perfect gentleman, as well as a bit of a ham. Now I’m curious to see how well Fritz will do under similar circumstances.

A lot has happened since the last time I was here. In the next series of posts, I’l do my best to get caught up on the things that I think you might want to hear about. If you don’t I’m sure that you will find a way to tell me.

For my Photojournalism class we had to do a sports assignment. What was required was a real action shot in which the subject is in sharp focus performing some incredible feat of (preferably) aerial athleticism while adorned with a non-distracting out-of-focus bokeh. That’s easy. Just call up the Falcons or the Braves, tell them you’re a photography student and ask for a press pass. Yeah. Right. Like that’s going to happen in this century. OK, so maybe that was a little ambitious. Well then, how about  college teams like the UGA Bulldogs or the GT Yellow Jackets? Surely since they are institutions of higher learning, they of all people would understand the need of an up and coming photography student? OK! Go ahead and laugh those of you who already know the answer. All right! So I’m not affiliated with a major news organization and no, I didn’t apply two months before the season started. This was obviously a powerful learning experience. Nevertheless, my naivete persisted long enough to call the newest College Football program in the area, the Georgia State Panthers. Well, long story short, there is a wonderful lady by the name of Allison George who after verifying my identity with my PJ instructor, provided me with my very first press pass to shoot the Panthers game the very next day against Old Dominion in the Georgia Dome. Ms. George, I will always be indebted to you. Thank you.

Shooting in the Georgia Dome was not only a great learning experience, but it was also a lot of fun. The roof of the Dome is like a giant diffuser which produces a wonderfully soft light that bathes everything beneath. That’s the good news. The not so good news is that there is just not enough of it. To the naked eye the light appears to be adequate, but to my camera’s meter, there just wasn’t enough intensity to get those award-winning stop-action images at 1/500ths or 1/1000ths. My best lens was a Nikon 28-300mm 3.5/5.6 zoom which meant that my only option was to crank the ISO of my D700 up to 6500. Lesson: to shoot well in the Dome, a 300mm 2.8 is a minimum requirement. Well, I was not about to let the lack of a fast sports lens spoil my first at bat. I did manage to get a few images that I felt quite good about. I remembered the photographers golden rule: if you shoot 1300 frames, there is a strong likelihood that you will get a dozen or so decent images. Let me know what you think of these.

Tropical storm Lee put a big damper on our long weekend getaway to PCB (Panama City Beach). Notwithstanding, it was great to just get away and relax for a while with good friends. We did manage to get in a round of golf and a little tennis before the rain, but generally it was a low-key weekend.

Don’t despise low-key weekends. A manager that I worked for many years ago once gave me a very powerful, if subtle, bit of advice: He said, “valleys are assets”. He was, of course, referring to those times in our lives when perhaps unexpected changes in plan have left us with extra time on our hands. Armed with this little gem from the archives, I decided to spend some of my weekend getting better acquainted with my new Nikon D700. My tutor/mentor Thom Hogan, channelled through his instructional “Complete Guide to the Nikon D700″, and I got down into the nitty-gritty of the D700′s features and characteristics.

Armed with this new knowledge just bursting to manifest itself in a fervour of creativity, I ventured out on Sunday in between rain showers, to see some more of what my new investment had the potential to return. We cruised down Pier Park where I was able to get a few shots. My goal was to see what kind of quality this camera could produce given minimum effort on my part beyond pointing it at a scene of interest, choosing a depth-of-field, and releasing the shutter.  Using Aperture Priority, center-weighted metering at ISO 400, and single auto-focus, here are a few images. Note that these were shot in RAW mode and the only post-processing was the conversion to jpeg:

I thought the D700 acquitted itself admirably.

What do you think?

Having grown up to adulthood in a foreign country (Jamaica), I have great empathy for human beings who may find themselves confronted by a great horde of strangely dressed people all pointing cameras at them as one might shoot an animal in a zoo. I can tell you with absolute certainty that this makes people really angry. If you do manage to get a few shots, I daresay that you really got nothing. Certainly nothing  that might tell you something meaningful about the person whose image you wrestled away from them. By contrast, showing a little courtesy and respect may open up a door to images that you may not otherwise ever see. It’s a really simple concept actually; despite the differences in language, race, culutre, religion, or wealth all human beings deserve to be treated with a modicum of dignity and respect. This is not hard to grasp if just for a fleeting moment you slip into that other person’s mocassins.

Jan Lemen really gets it. I will not attempt to paraphrase, because I could not say it any better:

“Whether you’re a professional photographer or a hobbyist eager to capture the essence of local life while on vacation, I know now that the key is one part human connection and one part filling the frame with someone who would like to be more fully seen. This is no small feat, but it’s possible when we let go a little of getting what we want in the lens and make room for the heart and vision of someone else. Our willingness to go beyond our own agenda not only will improve the quality of our work, but it will deepen our experience of our art. And it’s when we approach our work with a new measure of heart and soul—combined with our technical expertise—that our images truly shine.”

Jan, thanks for reminding us of the powerful rewards that, as human beings, are ours when we make the effort to connect at a personal level with others that we come in contact with. May good fortune always smile on you.

I’ll share more as I get further into it. In the meantime If you are interested, take a peek at http://www.dvprofessionals.com/.