Category: image interpretation

Strength, light, and balance—about a Jeff Urquhart photo

Urquhart-bridge

What are we looking at?

It may take a moment to figure that its the underside of a bridge, in this case, the Robert Moses Bridge on the south shore of Long Island, near Captree Island. It was shot by a photographer friend, Jeff Urquhart.

What strikes me first about this image is the abstract symmetry. I’m intrigued by the repetition of overhead arches leading to the foggy “light” down the center. Three colors—granite,  blue-green, and red-orange, interplay well with the overall form and design.

This photo is well composed and exposed. It has a medieval and cathedral-like appeal that shows strength, light, and balance, all of which happen to be desirable human attributes.

Thanks for letting me share this captivating image, Jeff.

The Angel in the Witch — the healing power of a photograph

by John Todaro
“Witch-Hobble” by John Todaro

This photo is an oxymoron. A “good witch,” or as the title says, “the angel in the witch.”

Long ago people claimed the witch-hobble growing around one’s home would protect them from witches because they could not walk through it. Anyone who tried to walk through a witch-hobble thicket, would thenceforth be endowed with powers of a witch. (According to Ellen Rathbone, an environmentalist and naturalist.)

My focus, however, is on photographer, John Todaro’s brilliant composition of two witch-hobble leaves and what their power has done for me. I’ve been in a creative doldrum for several months because of personal reasons. Upon seeing this photograph, I was creatively lifted to a place where I could again appreciate pristine aesthetics.

Initially, I saw refined design in this composition—a balance of tonality, rhythm, repetition, variation of form, and simplicity. I especially like the apex on the left leaf duplicated in reverse by the convergence of the two leaves above their overlap.

The dual vertical light spheres directly above the leaves’ convergence, coupled with the overlap (or “lens” shape) atop a triangle represents to me, a beautiful totem composition.

But what did I see beyond the pleasing composition?

I saw an angel with a halo, spreading her wings. That’s probably what I needed to see and feel, for afterward, I felt rejuvenated and got right back to attending my creative spirit. My doldrums have dissolved, thanks to a conscientious, well crafted black-and-white photograph by my friend and fellow photographer, John Todaro.

“Pleasantly lost in a forest” —nature’s parallels and the magic of synchronicity

We know nature yields beautiful patterns, some of which have been an inspiration to artists for years, decades, and centuries.

Many patterns mimic themselves—for instance, wave patterns in wet sand, the ocean, and in cloud formations. Or branching patterns seen in trees or tributaries—whether in a river delta or in a tidal-pool run-off.

In early October, I visited the Firefly Artists Gallery (where I am now a member) and was smitten by a pendant crafted by Kate Sidney, a jeweler and one of the founders of the gallery.

j-ellsworth-labradorite-pendant
“Pleasantly Lost in a Forest” —a Labradorite pendant by Kate Sydney

I was intrigued by the deep blue color and the branching pattern. I told her when I saw  the piece, I felt, “pleasantly lost in a forest.”

Two months went by and every time I entered the gallery, I was drawn to it. It did not occur to me to buy it. I simply wanted to appreciate it. Then on the evening we kicked off our “100 for $100” holiday promotion in early December, a woman in attendance, Caren Jacobs, suggested I try it on. I did—then I bought it!

Kate kept it for me until we could settle on a necklace chain. We decided on simple black leather.

Labradorite is considered a stone of magic and transformation. It’s a stone that brings you the gift of serendipity and synchronicity—being in the right place at the right time. Such coincidences supposedly occur more often if you wear this stone. It is also considered a crystal that will help provide clarity and insight into your destiny. The crystal commonly has a blue to green palette in values of dark and light, all of which varies by the ambient light.

During the course of the next two weeks, I was fortunate to sell a large photo on canvas, “Lone Visitor,” a single blue-morpho butterfly in a rain forest.

j-ellsworth-blue-morpho

I showed it to Kate and she noted the wings look like my Labradorite pendant. Whoa! How amazing—such a coincidence!

Was the magic of the stone playing out? It certainly seems as if serendipity and synchronicity intercepted me the last month of 2014.

 

 

“Sagittarius Fire” —Zodiac sign November 22 – December 21

Sagittarius Fire

The sun transits Sagittarius (the Archer)
between November 22 and December 21.

According to astrological belief, Sagittarius,
as well as Aries and Leo, are considered fire signs.
Generally,  people with these signs search for things
that light them up, that create passion. They are
prone to sudden flashes of insight and enthusiasm.

This photo was taken in Montauk about 11:00 pm several summers ago in late August. The constellation Sagittarius is square in the middle. By connecting the stars and overlaying the mythological archer, this is what you get:

john-ellsworth-Sagittarius-fire-triptyk

The Sagittarius artwork was created by Johan Meuris and accompanies Stellarium, the free and open source planetarium software. The image was released under The Free Art License. My son, Nick, helped me take the photo.

The silhouettes backlit by the moon river initially drew me to the scene. We shot it in color with a four-second exposure, camera on a tripod. I converted it to black and white and retained the amber of the fire and the glow on the faces. It was only after I produced the image that I figured out the prominent constellation hovering above the gathering.

“Visitor in Red” —a photo as enduring as a tugboat

Visitor in Red

When I photograph, I work a shot from many angles until I get a “sensation” that when I press the shutter release, I captured the spirit of the scene that originally caught my attention. I don’t analyze each composition as I frame a shot. It’s more intuitive. It’s more by “feel.” And if I choose to print an image, it’s rare that I know an image has staying power. So when I first printed “Visitor in Red,” I made it a limited edition of 8o, in addition to a few artist’s proofs.

This scene was shot the day before St. Patrick’s Day (2007) in Northport, NY. I was walking my dog in the park about mid-day as it started to snow. I heard and felt a subtle rumbling. I turned my eyes to the harbor. This red tugboat was making its way toward the docks. I put my dog in the car, got my camera, and photographed the tug for about 40 minutes as it maneuvered to tie up and settle in. I got all angles, but this is the one I chose to produce.

After seven years, the photo still sells. Like a tug, the image has pulling power. I’ve heard from viewers they had a red tugboat as a child. Or their grandfather worked on tugs. Or they love Northport and this is a scene they’ve never witnessed. And so forth.

In my constant search to understand why an image resonates with some of us, I’d like to explore the composition and give a shot at interpreting it.

Composition

Color. With the exception of the red tug, the color palette of this photo is subdued green, brown, and yellow. This lends for a dramatic contrast imparted by the tug.

Leading lines. Implied lines are those created by visually connecting like elements as if one were “connecting the dots,” or stars in a constellation. I see three series of lines in the photo. One set, the pilings, directs your eyes to alongside the tug. The lit lanterns, from left to right, take you directly to the tug. All this under the four seagulls, which if “connected,” cups the scene, as if a visual canopy.

Balance. Although the tug is off to the right, it is visually balanced by the receding line of the lanterns’ yellow glow. I don’t think I’d get the same sense of equilibrium had the lanterns been off.

Interpretation

It’s probably what a tugboat represents that contributes to the appeal of this photo. There’s authenticity in the design of a tug. They are designed and built for utility. Function trumps fashion, trend, or vogue, to the point where “utilitarian” becomes an attractive look itself (as long as it’s for real).

A tug is designed to pull and push large barges and ships in all kinds of weather. Its purpose requires dedication, reliability, strength, persistence, and a courageous crew—all traits we respect and perhaps identify with.

A simple portrait of a moored tugboat may evoke similar interpretations. But I think such a portrait needs to be in an interesting composition, or visual milieu, to render an image as enduring as the tug itself.

“Remember When” —reflections on derelict images

Remember When

Occasionally I like to photograph scenes that feature derelict elements. I don’t know why. I can only speculate. Time worn? Stories to tell? Withstanding the elements? Maybe it’s because I’m in my later years, but then again, I have photos of such scenes I shot when I was in my late twenties—especially old boats, vehicles, houses, sheds, and barns.
Nevertheless, I had to capture the front porch of this house in Pioneerville, Idaho, a few autumns back. Pioneerville is a ghost town about 55 miles by road, northeast of Boise. It was a mining town during the late 19th century. The scene spoke to me. But what was it saying?
I think, “transience.” Here today, gone tomorrow (or years from now). Despite having emotional ties to our loved ones, our homes, our cities, and our countries—it never lasts. Either we depart, or the relationship in which we love dissolves. It’s as if we are visitors in time. What we do hold onto, though, are memories.
For some, that’s all we’ve got of what once was. And that’s why memories are treasured.

 

“Lighthouse Café” —a social arrangement

Lighthouse Café

Early one spring several years back, I was arranging a barbecue on Wincoma Beach, Huntington, NY, near my sister’s home. We were inviting some artist friends from Connecticut, Long Island, and New Jersey. I wanted to show them the view before their arrival.

This photo emerged after two evenings of shooting, the last evening using a tripod. I wanted the light reflections of the lighthouse and the red buoy to appear in the photo. However, they were out-of-sync, so i needed to leave the lens open for awhile—30 seconds was sufficient. It all worked out, for the shot is at dusk—low light—which requires a long exposure. A long exposure meant a small aperture. This in turn resulted in great depth-of-field—sharp focus from the foreground to background. AND, I got my two reflected columns of light.

I like this photo primarily because the three chairs face one-another in a magical setting. I’ve seen dozens of paintings and photos of a single sea-side chair facing the water. This is always a contemplative, reflective, introspective type shot, one I’ve always appreciated. But what sets this image apart is the communal arrangement of the chairs. It creates more of a social setting.

The horizon reveals the Connecticut shoreline. The lights on the horizon are those of Norwalk, CT. The land spit on the top left is Lloyd’s Neck.

Because of the social placement of the three chairs and the appearance of the Huntington Lighthouse, I named this photo, “Lighthouse Café.”