Pathetic in The Palace

A couple weeks ago we visited a relative in Detroit, and while we were there we attended the Pistons game at the arena out the suburbs, The Palace, when they were playing the Wizards.

Yes, we were the three there.

Okay, there were more than just us, but as bad as the teams were there certainly were no shortage of empty seats.

Yes, this is during the game.

We were five rows from the floor. During time-outs the players standing blocked out the cheerleaders on the middle of the court. That close.

Anyway, to drum up excitement in the crowd the "cheer team" throws rolled-up t-shirts and little novelty basketballs into the stands. However, sometimes their arms weren't up to the task.

Camera-less at the Magic Kingdom

In the last post I talked about a recent trip to Disneyland. Something of extremely modest note about that: I took my trusty Canon S3 camera, but did not even take it out of the case in which I carry it. That didn't go to waste, per se; with that strapped over my shoulder, it provided something on which I could hang my jacket during the warm afternoon.

I did snap a few shots with my phone's camera, and even used that for the photo the waiter took of us in the Blue Bayou (which was slightly out of focus, but oh well).

Walking around Disneyland I was not inspired to want to pull out a regular camera. It was either the convenience of this device I had in my pocket, or it wasn't worth bothering. After so many trips to the Magic Kingdom, most everything falls into the already-took-pictures-of-it-before category.

Not the wedding photographer

Last month we attended the wedding of some friends—not ones we see very often these days, but ones where we were invited to a relatively small ceremony. And as someone who has a photo blog, you'd probably think I would have brought my trusty Canon S3 to capture the festivities.

You would be wrong about that.

As we were almost about to walk out the door I grabbed the small camera (that we actually got to take the underwater shots from our Maui trip), but that was as much effort as went into having any camera with us. And when I actually did attempt a few shots during the ceremony, I quickly was alerted by a little symbol on the back display that the battery had not been recharged. Of course, from my position at the far end of about six rows back (against the wall) it's not like the few shots I got were coming out that well, so the battery dying likely was a blessing of sorts that kept me from bothering with more.

The burden of "Photographer"

Over the weekend my wife and I attended a dance recital featuring the young daughter of one of her co-workers. The co-worker has brought the daughter in many times, and as the little girl is so sweet and charming that my wife couldn't help but bond with her. And I'm dorky enough and old enough that I can watch a bunch of young children perform various dances and find it both adorable and often unintentionally funny, even if none of those children are mine.

At the end of the festivities, as everyone was shuffling out of the auditorium, the girl wanted to pose on stage with her dance teacher for a picture. And the co-worker pulled out a little point-n-shoot digital camera to take the photo, but then someone said, "Oh, wait. Doug's a photographer," and next thing I know the camera is in my hand.

The Old 97's are not on my camera phone

Telling people you're going to see the Old 97's (yes, their name has an apostrophe), even after it's been 17 years since their first album and they've been on Leno multiple times (most recently last November 11) and they were the band that Jennifer Aniston and Vince Vaughn go see in the movie The Break-Up (which featured several shots focused on the band) still involves getting blank stares and having to explain who they are (which may be limited to only "They're a band I like").

For the uninitiated, you can stream some of their songs on their MySpace page, or here's a video of them live I found on YouTube:


And while I certainly believe they're deserving of better recognition, if I'm being completely honest, I kind of prefer that they're not household names. They have a devoted fan base that supports them well enough for them to continue touring and making albums, but (at least out here in Southern California) they still play clubs where it's easy to get tickets even on the night of the show. (However, for last Friday's show in Hollywood, at the Music Box, my wife had gotten the tickets well in advance, as a Xmas/birthday present; this was no last-minute whim.)

That their shows are filled pretty much only with people who know who they are, who are familiar with their catalog and not just some song that was a hit on the radio, who actively sing along with the songs, is far better than playing to bigger crowds in larger venues.

Sweetgum Project 1.0

We are not in control.

~

Back in mid-February I got the idea to chronicle in photographs the growth of the leaves on a tree just outside my front door. In the courtyard of the complex where I live there's a number of trees, but for simple reasons of proximity I chose the American Sweetgum that's closest to me, rather than one of the two Sweetgums on the opposite side of the courtyard area; it was the one I pass every day as I walk in or out the door, and thus the easiest to remember to shoot.

I'd captured the tree in the past (as seen in these posts), but that was showing the changing of leaves in the autumn. In February the tree was complete barren, without a single leave or pod on it, so this seemed like a good time to start the project. I figured that I'd make a point of getting detailed shots focusing on a specific branch (the highest one) as the one to track the progress of how the leaves and other blooms developed, along with getting general shots of other branches just as accompaniment.

It wouldn't be a time-lapse thing, as I wouldn't be setting up a tripod to shoot the exact same shot of that highest branch from the same angle every time (being a common area I couldn't just leave such an object there all the time); I'd stand in the same spot, certainly, but obviously that wouldn't be precise. That wasn't the point. The nibs at the end of the branches had not yet started to sprout, and the transformation they would undergo should still be interesting enough even from perhaps slightly different angles. Given the rate of growth I figured that shooting once a week would be sufficient; that should allow for there to be at least some modestly noticeable differences.

And on that Sunday before Lincoln's birthday I did go out in the mid-morning and get some shots. Here's the shot of that highest branch I selected, showing how it looked that morning:

February 21

Story of the hummingbird photos

Over at the photo site there's a new post featuring this picture of a nesting hummingbird:

as well as many others of this hummingbird. Please click over when you have a few moments and have a look.

~

Who blew off exercising on a recent morning and instead spent over half an hour photographing a nesting hummingbird?

This guy!

(Probably should have been some reference to having two thumbs or something…)

Of course, how often does one come across a hummingbird sitting in her tiny nest, keeping two tiny eggs warm?

~

Here's the story:

I’d been alerted to the existence of the nest on the Sunday previous by a neighbor who spotted me shooting the weekly progress of the sweetgum trees in our complex's courtyard (which is a project that will be featured on the photo site in the future). He pointed out that it was in one of the umbrella trees adjacent to the trees I was already shooting, but I couldn’t actually see the nest from where I was on the upper level. So I logged that in the brain for later investigation.

The next morning, after my workout, I made a bonus effort to capture some shots of the sweetgum leaves, as they were wet with drops from the previous night’s rain. While out there the wife of the aforementioned neighbor saw me in the courtyard with camera in hand, and also mentioned the nest. This time I had her point out specifically where it was to me, and then I finally saw it for myself. It was pretty small (but hummingbirds aren’t that big). Inside I could make out the white of an egg, which looked to be only about the size of a jellybean. I attempted a couple shots, but not having much time left to spare before I needed to get ready for work.

Having witnessed it for myself, I made another mental note to look for it on a sunnier day.

Then on the following morning (now a Tuesday) as my wife was leaving and I was heading out to undertake the morning’s workout I beckoned her to take the long way around the courtyard so she could see the nest. However, when I got within sight of it I spotted the bird atop the eggs. In an enthusiastic whisper I said, “It’s in the nest! It’s in the nest!” After she saw it herself, without skipping a beat, she whispered back, “Get your camera!”

I scurried back over to the condo and retrieved the camera, then hurried back to the site of the nest and began shooting. At first it was tricky to get a clear shot, because the bird kept moving, repositioning herself in the nest, but eventually she settled down and like a cooperative model remained relatively still.

Next thing I knew, the entire period I otherwise would have devoted to exercising had elapsed (plus several minutes more). I did go down to the lower level to get some shots from below her and one thing was certain: there’d be no working up a sweat that day.

No, that day was devoted to art and the appreciation of nature rather than health. (There was always a Wednesday for that.)

And last night I finally got around to processing, selecting the best ones, and uploading them. (If only that part was as easy for me as the initial shooting the shots would have been up sooner. But let's focus on the fact that they're up now.)

Say cheesed

At events where a large group congregated (such as, for example, recent holiday parties) and those people assembled for a group photo, it's pretty much a given that a number of digital cameras will be proffered to the person(s) offering to take the picture, with the plea to "take one with my camera, too." If there are more than, say, five such cameras to be used (possibly fewer, depending on the patience of the group), it's almost certain that someone in the group will utter the sentence, "Come on, that's enough; those pictures can be emailed to the rest of us," and the assembled crowd will disband.

In that scenario, two things are almost certainly true:

1. The person who declared the number taken had been "enough" was not someone who did not get a picture on his or her camera; either the person did not had a camera, or the one offered had already gotten a photo taken with it.

2. In none of the photos that were taken will there be a single one where everybody in the shot is looking at the lens, with no one blinking or making a face that is less than ideal.

There is no herding large numbers of regular humans for the purpose of photography.

Getting away with it

A couple months ago during my lunch I was walking around downtown L.A., around the back side of the YMCA. I'd passed through that area many times, but it occurred to me that I'd never walked all the way to the south wall. Looking over the edge of the wall and toward the right, down the corridor between the structure on which I stood (atop the Arco garage, ultimately) and the Citigroup building I spotted the shadows of some trees along a hillside.

(Okay, now that I've lost everyone who isn't intimately familiar with that spot, let's move on.)

And because in the midday light shadows are about the only decent shot one can get, I took out my camera and started to set up a shot (holding the camera over the edge toward the trees).

Before I could press the shutter a voice called out to me, "Excuse me, sir." It was a man in security guard garb. He asked me to not take pictures of the buildings. Now, I had encountered this request previously (although only since I got my new S3 camera), so I was not surprised.

However, rather than simply say "okay" and be on my way, I asked him if it was acceptable to shoot the shadows of the trees in question (with no buildings in the shot). And he said yes!

I blurted out how shots of the buildings wouldn't come out anyway. I was being completely honest, and I suspect this through [see comments] him off a bit. I imagine that in the past when he had been in the situation of politely asking someone who appeared to be a "real" photographer (read: someone who takes pictures with a camera fancier than a little point-and-shoot) to not take pictures of the buildings that the responses had been either confrontational (the person made a stink) or quietly acquiescent (the person put the camera away and meekly walked away). I was neither. I analyzed his specific request and noted that what he was asking of me was something I wasn't going to do anyway. It wasn't that there was issue with me taking photos from that spot; the issue was with taking photos where the camera was pointed toward the buildings. So rather than just giving up, I asked if my specific intentions were allowable.

The way he had to pause for a moment clearly indicated this was a new thing for him. I'm not sure whether it was because I was polite and smiling or because I'd found a hole in the rules (or both), but he gave me permission to take the shots I intended. I made a point of trying to seem compliant, thanking him and noting that I'd just take a few shots and be on my merry way. He walked away, still seeming slightly confused about what had just happened, leaving me to my task.

~

Then I tried to actually take the pictures. To get what seemed the best angle I had to hold the camera with my arm fully extended out over the edge of the wall, pointing to my right, with the view screen angled toward my face. Of course, the light that was bad for shooting buildings also made it difficult to see the image on the screen, so I was more or less pointing it in the general direction and pressing the shutter and hoping for the best. I should also note that by extending my arm out over the edge, the only thing between my camera and a five-story fall was my hand and the neck strap wrapped around my arm.

No, nothing like that happened. But still, it was more complicated and dangerous than I had anticipated. However, at that point I more or less had no choice: I had to take these shots; I'd worked too hard (so to speak) to just give up.

So I reached out, pointed, and shot. I brought the camera back to me, switched the screen to view what I'd just taken, then adjusted a setting and did it again, aiming it slightly differently than before (as to not get so much of the side of the structure on which I stood in the shot). That I repeated a few more times, and then I gave up and went on my merry way.

The irony of all this, at least as far as I am concerned, is now not lost on me. Back when I had a little point-and-shoot camera, not only would attempting the shot been slightly easier (because the camera was smaller, easier held with one hand), but it's unlikely I would not have been contacted by the guard (I base that on my experience with taking pictures downtown with my old camera, when this never happened); I wouldn't have had to work for it (again, so to speak), and would have had no qualms about giving up. However, with the larger new camera, not only was the shot trickier, but the angle of the shot essentially reduced me to pointing and shooting.

I thought the point of the new, larger camera was to make it easier to become a better photographer, but sometimes it just makes everything more difficult.

And thus these photos are not offered so much because they turned out that well but because they are the pseudo-trophy of my tiny victory. I really have no choice but to post them whether they deserve it or not.

Luck o' the Irish

From the finally-getting-around-to-it department:

Each year on St. Patrick's Day the L.A. Department of Recreation and Parks sponsors a noon concert in downtown at Pershing Square. Returning this year was Irish ex-pats (and now L.A. natives) the Young Dubliners. I missed most of their performance, mostly because I didn't realize they were playing until I wandered over during my lunch, but I did have my camera and attempted to take some shots of the band.

Attempted.

A group had accumulated in front of the band, but because I have a pretty good zoom I on my camera I didn't need to get too close. First I stood way back and zooming in, but as you can see from the shot below, that wasn't turning out so well.

Then I tried to find a closer spot where I could shoot over most of the people without blocking people behind me by standing on a short wall to one side.
Still not turning out that well, however.

Then I got a bit closer so I could try to get some better detailed shots of the band, but I was still off to the side, out of the way. I aimed the lens at the violinist, closest to me, focused and pressed the shutter.

Hey, don't mind me, dumbass.

This probably would have been the best shot had Captain Oblivious not stepped in front of the lens at that moment.

Through some cropping and electronic manipulation the shot on the left is acceptable. (Not great, not necessarily even good, but acceptable.) I like the shadow of his hands on his shirt. So it wasn't a complete loss.


However, to see the shots from Pershing Square that turned out better (because the subject was the fountain rather than the band), check out this posting on the photo site.