Photographs, Photographers and Photography

Warm sun.

This is the sort of thing I can never resist. Warm sun, old bricks (note the earthquake reinforcing plates – this can only be California!) and one of the very best lenses ever made at any price.

5D, 200mm f/2.8 ‘L’, 1/8000, f/4, ISO 400

Bistro Laurent really has no business being a world class restaurant in a hick town like Paso Robles, but there it is and the food is to die for! Scan the wine list and you will find the Zinfandel wine made from my grape crop – it’s the Peachy Canyon Winery “Especial” 2004 – if you are lucky your local store may have some left, but that’s a long shot as the crop is small and the wine sells out quickly.

What America needs now.

It seems oddly fitting that this past Friday, the culmination of Wall Street’s (and America’s) worst week ever, that a friend should have sent me In the Shadow of the Moon, a NASA documentary about the twelve men who have walked on the surface of the moon.

In these digital days it’s hard to recall that the still photography gear used by these brave men was nothing more than a Hasselblad 500EL or two fitted with a long roll film magazine and upgraded with some low temperature lubricants to make sure nothing froze up. Americans, as cavalier with the environment as ever, concluded that it would be cheaper to dump the bodies on the moon than to bring them back to earth. Indeed, in the 1970s, the Victor Hasselblad company ran a classic advertising campaign pointing out that Hasselblads, lightly used, were to be had free. All you needed was a round trip to the lunar surface to get yours.

In this documentary you can see various moon walkers banging away with their 500ELs, a large digital counter clearly visible on the right side of the film magazine to remind them how many of their 200 shots they had used.

The Hasselblad 500EL model used by the moon walkers

This film has some so-so movie pictures (the technology of small movie cameras really was pretty mediocre back in 1969) and some tremendous still pictures. These astrophysicists, mechanical engineers and scientists, passing for astronauts, were so elevated by a shared spirit of ecstasy in their journey that their photographic skills rose magically to a new plane as the whole world rooted for America to pull off the Apollo 11 landing.

While most know of the great snap Armstong took of Aldrin, Armstong’s figure reflected in Aldrin’s face mask, there are two special moments that caught my attention. One is a movie frame showing the blast off of the lunar lander on its way to dock with the orbital module before returning to earth. I had never seen this and remember well the feeling of dread that there was only one chance to get this right. As the lander blasts off, the American flag in the lunar surface rocks mightily on its pole but remains standing. It is an immensely moving moment.

The Apollo lunar lander blasts off from the lunar surface, Old Glory in the blast

The other, also a movie picture, is easily the most beautiful and heart warming in the whole movie. For all their protestations about the beauty of the lunar surface, there is no disguising that the orb of earth from space is a very special thing, and the moment the parachutes deploy in a superb aerial shot, we are all united as one race sharing our adulation of this most perfect of places. This still frame does not begin to do that magical moment justice.

Apollo 11 returns to earth

On a broader scale, the Apollo program reminds us how strong leadership can inspire a nation and the world. The astronauts speak eloquently of their reception worldwide pointing out that, wherever they go, they are greeted with the words “We did it”. That sounds right. The greatest, most generous nation on earth did not seek to keep this to itself but wanted to share its joy and wide eyed spirit of discovery with the world.

Another point to note is the life changing effect the moon trips had on all concerned. Most speak eloquently and mystically of the experience and while logical thinkers will continue extolling Darwinian evolution over creationism, when you see that orb of blue and white approaching, well, you do tend to think of some sort of Supreme Being because it seems too perfect to maybe just have happened.

This is a special piece of film and photography and a recommended antidote to a period in which America’s bleeding is infecting the whole world. American hegemony may be fading, who knows?, but I have yet to encounter anyone, no matter how anti-American, who would argue that a world lead by the Chinese would be a better place.

Past is prologue.

(Former) Masters of the Universe line up for lunch. Photographer unknown

The week that was

The body as canvas.

5D, 24-105 at 105mm, 1/90, f/4.5, ISO 125

This man was painting the most exquisite curlicues and decorations – using a very sharp-edged brush – on the back of a rather tired old VW squareback which someone obviously loved very much. He noticed me admiring his work so I asked if I might take a snap of his tattoed body.

He was only too pleased to oblige and struck this classically dignified pose without any direction from me.

The idea of a great man.

Paso Robles Carnegie Library, built in 1908. 5D, 24-105 at 105mm, 1/500, f/6.7, ISO200

It’s said that the true measure of philanthropy is not how much you give but how much you have left. By that measure, Andrew Carnegie (1835-1919) is the greatest philanthropist the world has seen, having given away almost all of his fortune at the time of his death. Inflation makes comparisons difficult, but if you figure wealth as a percentage of Gross National Product, Carnegie ranks fifth in America, after Rockefeller, Vanderbilt, Astor and Girard (d. 1831 – trade and banking).

Carnegie mostly gave his money to build public libraries in the United States, England and his native Scotland. While I see libraries as essentially a waste of real estate in a digital world (the Library of Congress could be digitized for $1 billion, the space put to better use) there is an undeniable charm to a fine library and the tactile enjoyment of good books.

The small town of Paso Robles, a stone’s throw from my home in Templeton in central California, has a pretty town square graced with a Carnegie Library. Sadly, the brick building was damaged in the earthquake a few years ago and the City has finally come around to fixing the damage. While the whole is still surrounded with chain-link fencing, it’s possible to see the results of the rebuilding from a distance.

Many would denigrate Carnegie for his use of low paid labor in his steel mills near Pittsburgh. To me, the choices are simple. You take one or two generations of the poor and stupid, exploit them horribly and confer a priceless gift on the world. The next generation now has no excuse for being either poor or stupid. Or you do nothing and the poor and stupid continue being just that. It’s your choice, but there’s little arguing with the benefits of the Carnegie way.

A great man and a beautiful piece of architecture. More as the building reaches completion. Check out the brand, spanking new copper piping in the snap above. Gorgeous.

Except for a very small tweak in Photoshop to fix perspective, the picture has had no post processing.

All alone

From my recent one man show.

Swings at Cayucos Beach. Crown Graphic 4×5, 135mm Xenar, Verichrome

An annual ritual.

The crew arrives at 6:30. It’s still dark.

For $7 an hour these great people work insanely hard and by noon we will have twenty of these bins containing 10 tons of the finest Zinfandel grapes in the world; the area where I live – the Templeton Gap in Central California – is renowned for its Zinfandel varietals above all else.

Then the vines will gracefully shed their leaves, the crew will return to prune them to a nub and another growing cycle is complete.

So, I find myself wondering, as a great American farmer, where’s my government subsidy?

A final check of Brix (sugar content)

The wine grower is required, by contract, to provide grapes with a certain Brix level – 25 to 28 for Zinfandel. I’m at 26.5 which is just about right. The tool in the picture is a refractometer, a nice optical device as old as Sir Isaac Newton. A drop of grape juice on the lens, a peek through the eyepiece and Brix is determined.

Back to the regular topics tomorrow. Now please excuse me, I have to go tread on some grapes….