NyghtVision m a g a z 覺 n e
Summer 2014
For the First Time
Wynter 2014 | 1
S
Welcome
ummer.
Flowers and long evenings. Golden sunsets. And as July pales
softly towards August, the days shorten, and already the distant voice of Autumn can be heard rustling through the leaves beneath the rising of the moon. Soon, too soon, the chill of an early nyght will lay claim to the growing darkness and all these days will be memories of a summer past.
The last scars of a wynter that tarried far too long still remain upon the face of the world around us and yet already the green of the leaves fades. Flowers lose their petals upon the browning of the grass. Summer passes too quickly. With a sense of urgency we cling to the warmth of summer.... This is an eclectic issue, and, all our regular contributors return. Lew Brown, Rayn, and Andy Walcott all return and offer their unique insight into the world around us. We are honoured to have the work of Jim Hoyle in this issue. Jim's skill with black and white images marks a lifetime in film. My interview with Francois DeWynter takes an unexpected turn - one that has left me deep in thought. "Poetically Man Dwells," usually an essay, takes a different turn largely as a result of that interview. For many of us, Photoshop is a staple of our trade - and yet it is often overwhelming and perplexing. In this edition we will explore simple ways to make a good image great. Finally, "Lighting the Un-lightable" returns - this time with a look at lighting complex architectural spaces. There is only now, only this moment, drink from it all you can. And, hold fast the memories.
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See the World Again.
Falcon
Editor-in-chief
For the First Time
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Behind the Scenes Francois DeWynter
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Lighting the UnLightable Falcon
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Reflections Lew Brown
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Making a Good Photo Great in Photoshop Falcon
Poetically man Dwells: "Last Breath of Summer"
Falcon
The Gray Leaves of Summer Rayn
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Preview Our next issue
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Lemon Grove Andy Walcott
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In Black & White Jim Hoyle
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Hollywood Cemetery
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ABOUT THE HOUSE OF NYGHTFALCON Who we are and what we do
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NyghtVision
M A G A Z I N E
CONTACT US
"For the First Time" ISSUE Volume 4, number 3, summer 2014
Interested in learning about or improving your photography?
PUBLISHER
For a complete list of NyghtFalcon photography seminars, please visit:
The House of NyghtFalcon Editor-in-Chief
Falcon
Editor
Yana Cortlund Design
Falcon and Yana Photography
The House of NyghtFalcon CONTRIBUTORS
Falcon, Rayn Milazzo, Lew G. Brown, Andy Walcott, Jim Hoyle
registration.nyghtfalcon.com For all other inquiries, including subscriptions to NyghtVision magazine, please email or call us: Inspiration@nyghtfalcon.com (001) 215. 740. 7661
aNFb
NyghtFalcon
Staff Writer
Francois DeWynter
K NB
NyghtBooks
An Official Publication of The House of NyghtFalcon
See the World Again. For the First Time. Š2014 The House of NyghtFalcon. All rights reserved. Reproduction of any part of this publication or use of this material for any purpose without the written consent of The House of NyghtFalcon is strictly prohibited and subject to legal action under American and International Law.
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ABOUT THE COVER PHOTO From 2009: isis, The Blue Series333 Right: A cluster of flowers after a rayn storm.
Photo by Falcon | 7
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Lemon Cove by Andy Walcott 10 |
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The mid morning sun blared across brown hills as the winding two lane descended from the Sierra Nevadas toward the vast expanse of eastern California’s San Joaquin Valley. Just last evening I watched in the cool magnificence of a sequoia grove as a magenta sky darkened to violet beyond the massive trunks of trees that were thousands of years old. Now I crossed a geographic divide from the montane wilderness regions of Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks to one of the most developed and fertile agricultural valleys in the world. Tulare County is about the size of Connecticut and holds both of these two disparate regions. I was about to arrive in Lemon Cove. I was seeing Tulare County for the first time even though I had been here a decade earlier. An ailing mother in an overheated car kept my attention away from any engagement with my surroundings. I pulled onto an overlook on the way down to Lemon Cove. There was a large reservoir with a community of houseboats tied to docks in line like city streets. (photo 2) Before 1936 I would have seen the largest inland lake west of the Mississippi River. Since the last glaciers retreated, snow melt from the Sierra Nevadas flowed into the valley through cascading rivers. With no outlet, the basin filled each spring and the result was Tulare Lake some sixty miles across and a wide valley with deep accumulations of fertile soil. In 1936 the rivers were dammed and Tulare Lake disappeared. Across the valley groves of citrus stretched in carefully cultivated rows. (photo 5) Thus, place names like Lemon Cove. (photo 3) These settlements now held faded reminders of more prosperous times in the 1950’s.
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(photo previous page) The sloping road leveled in a slow curve through Lemon Cove to reveal The Big Orange. (photo 4)
through farms and limiting the exits, the local traffic of traveling families brought a steady business to the many small growers that have since been lost. He was
still here and probably sold most of his harvest to big distributors. I bought five of some of the best oranges I had ever eaten for one dollar.
As I stood with my camera admiring this humble example of roadside architecture, I heard a welcoming voice from within the shaded interior. I learned that his father had built the Big Orange with the idea that he and his younger sister, standing on step ups built inside could safely sell the oranges from the family grove behind the stand. The problem was that it just got too hot inside. Now this sturdy orange structure served mostly as a landmark. He wore a faded blue work shirt, a floppy wide brimmed hat and tortoise shell spectacles. His father had left him the grove, Mesa Verde Ranch, which he now tended. His sister had moved on. His soft voice, ruddy cheeks and pleasantly smiling face showed traces that he was losing muscle tone. He spoke of the many other grove stands that had been plentiful in his youth. Before California 99 to the west had been built into a freeway cutting
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3 14 | Andy Walcott
"His soft voice, ruddy cheeks and pleasantly smiling face showed traces that he was losing muscle tone"
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The Solstice (Greensboro, NC) 2014 18 |
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Francois: I have a question. Falcon: Oh? Am I supposed to pretend I am surprised? Francois: (Laughing) Well, I suppose there wouldn't be a need to interview you if I didn't have a question. Falcon: There you go... Perhaps we should break so you can have another cup of tea. The caffeine might do you a world of good. Francois: Okay, either you are being difficult or you are determined to give me a hard time today - which is it? Falcon: (Sarcastically) I would never presume to give you a hard time, would I? Francois: Yes. You would. And your sarcasm is noted. (Laughing) Falcon: So, you have a question. Francois: I recently read Professor Grady's original forward to your book and this morning I read the second version. So, lets begin with a simple question - what prompted him to re-write the forward? He seems to imply that it was the change of the title from "The Merlot Effect" to "The Moon Is a Jealous Mistress." Falcon: Yes, that is accurate. Francois: Okay. Lets start there. Why did you change the title - I mean isn't the book really about The Merlot Effect and the key role it played in the development of the NyghtVision Methodology? Falcon: Yes. Francois: Care to elaborate or do you need to get another cup of coffee? Falcon: (Laughing) No, I believe I am duly caffeinated. Francois: Then if you don't mind..... Falcon: Well, there were a number of reasons. First, it seemed like everyone who wasn't familiar with us and with our methodology found it necessary to make a joke - the same joke - about the title. Francois: Seriously? Falcon: Yes. Seriously. I became concerned that people wouldn't take the book seriously because of the title. I understand that merlot is a wine. I get it. I get that when you drink too much merlot you get "the merlot effect." But, after about the twentieth person made the same joke, I had had enough. Francois: Was that primary reason why you changed the title? Falcon: Ultimately, no. The comments forced me to re-think many things, not the least of which was what the book was really about. Francois: Explain, please
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Falcon: That is harder to do than it seems. Francois: How so? Falcon: You'll have to give me a minute. (He reaches for his Companion, the tablet that is never far from his side) Francois: . (Laughing) Now I sense you're getting serious - booting up your Companion! Falcon: (Laughing loudly) I'm not going to dignify that with a response. Francois: Okay (also laughing) - I can wait. Falcon: Alright. Works for me............ Okay. Here's the text. Let me see. I am looking for a specific section. Ah, yes. And I quote: Falcon suggests the discovery of universal truth is only possible through the personal and through the subjective. He weaves intimate stories of his own life and loves with technical information about the nature of making a good photograph. His stories of heart-break and romance and the intensities of human emotion, are compelling precisely because they are accounts of direct experience. Francois: Forgive me, but I don't see your point. I mean, isn't the book as much about your - what is the English expression - ah - "life and loves" - as it is about photography, art, philosophy? Falcon: No. Francois: Come now. Falcon: Meaning? Francois: I am afraid that you have the advantage here. English is not my first - or best - language. Were we speaking Dutch, or even French, I could perhaps express myself better, but in English, I am not sure. Falcon: Well, it is a bit late to worry about that. What exactly do you mean? Francois: Hmmm. Falcon: You are not going to get off the hook so best you step up and explain what you mean. Francois: 'Off the hook' is such a strange expression.... Falcon: No you don't. That won't work. Francois: You know I am not comfortable. Falcon: Yes. What's your point? Francois: You could perhaps let me off the hook? Falcon: No. Francois: You are cold. Falcon: Yes. (Laughing) Now answer me. Francois: Okay. Has there been a woman you have photographed whom you have not loved? Falcon: I am not sure I see your point. Francois: There is something about your photos of women - something that - hmmm - speaks of your love for them. I see it in their eyes. I feel it in the way you 'look' at them through the lens. And some of the women - Torment, Katherine, Innana and especially isis - there is a very deep sense of your connection to them - you cannot tell me that you don't love them. Or, that they do not love you. Falcon: I cannot answer that. I especially can't speak for them. Francois: You mean you won't respond to my comment. Falcon: No. Not at all, I mean I can't respond to that comment. Francois: Why? Falcon: Do you want me to quote you the last lines of the 'Tractatus'? Francois: "That which we cannot speak about we must pass over in silence." But why invoke Wittgenstein now? 22 | Behind the Scenes: An Interview
Falcon: Because I can't speak the words. If they even exist. Yes. I connect to women. Do I love every woman I photograph? I can't answer that. I don't even know what that means. I open myself to them. I ask them to share the moment with me - I ask them to let their death be mine - for a brief moment so that they will know that they are not alone - at least for that moment they are safe - safe because I open my death to them - because I open to them the same sadness they carry in their hearts. I understand. I ask them to give their sadness to me, to let go of the pain, to let it be mine..... So that for one brief moment, we are not alone..... even though in the end, death will have her way....... Because the promise of love cannot be fulfilled, even in art, even in a photograph. Francois: 'And so you see I have come to doubt all that I once held as true. I stand alone without belief, the only truth I know is you.' Falcon: Yes. Think about - what would it be like to know every moment of every day not only that you are dying but that your beauty is fleeting. Passing. Diminishing...... How would you feel? Francois: I understand but how does this relate to the book and why do so many people feel that it is as much about romance as it is about art, philosophy, or photography? Falcon: What do you want me to say? You want me to quote Nietzsche or would you prefer Koestler or Paul Simon? Francois: Easy - I didn't mean to -Falcon: What you intended doesn't matter. It doesn't change anything - we seek intimacy - we need intimacy - we need to feel that we are not alone - if only for a moment as we go to our death - and yet for many that is never a real possibility - "And you read your Emily Dickinson and I my Robert Frost and we note our place with book markers that measure what we have lost - and how the room is softly faded - I only kiss your shadow I cannot feel your hand - you're a stranger to me now. Lost......." Francois: So is it about the sadness? Is that what this is about? Falcon: Sadness is the fabric of time. Francois: I can't pretend I understand what that means. Falcon: In the Heideggerean view of the world, opening oneself to the world's disclosure of itself is inseparable from opening oneself to the deafening emptiness of the Angst which is born in the realization that with every passing moment we are a moment closer to death. In that moment when I open myself - when I love - that which is in front of my camera I again open myself to the possibility that this moment, like every moment, could be my last. I open myself not only to the possibility of my own death, but to the death and dying - before my eyes as I watch through the lens - of that which has disclosed itself to me - be that a woman, a flower..... It matters not. Woven into that moment is sadness - in fact it is sadness that is the twine, the thread, that binds my experience together. To be in the world authentically evokes sadness. Sadness is always there. It places its cold and sterile lips upon my forehead at nyght and it wakens me with the chill of its kiss each morning. 'Is this the last dawn I shall see?' Francois: I'm sorry. Falcon: About what? Francois: I couldn't live that way. Falcon: What makes you think anyone can? Francois: I'm afraid I can't answer that. Perhaps it is best we end here. I am, well, sad and I do not know what to do or think or feel. Falcon: Then we are done.
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24 | High Point University
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26 | 2014: "A Child's Grave Forgotten" by Falcon)
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The Gray Leaves of Summer by
Rayn
“Time spent among the trees is never wasted time.� - Katrina Mayer All photos were taken in Pinehurst, NC. I would like to send a special thank you to Lew Brown for giving us a relaxing weekend at his beautiful lake house. - Rayn
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“Learn character from trees, values from roots, and change from leaves.� - Tasneem Ham eed
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“Look deep into nature and then you will understand everything better.� - Albert Einstein 32 | The Laurel Gray Grove Leaves of Summer
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"Love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much performs much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is done well." Vincent Van Gogh
“If you truly love nature, you will find beauty everywhere.� Vincent Van Gogh
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“Nature often holds up a mirror so we can see clearly the ongoing processes of growth, renewal, and transformation in our lives.� Mary Ann Brussat 40 | The Gray Leaves of Summer
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Sunset: Danville, VA (Photo by Falcon C. 2014)
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A photo essay by lew g. Brown
Reflections
A photo safari by Lew G. Brown
46 | Reflections
When I was growing up in Charlotte in the 1950s and 60s, it was still a relatively small city that harbored big ambitions. In 1960, it still hovered in the long shadow of its big sister Atlanta. Atlanta, then, was the 24th largest city in the U.S. with a population of 487,000. Charlotte was 59th, with a population of 201,000. I remember the local newspaper, The Charlotte Observer, trumpeting our breaking the 200,000 mark.
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Charlotte was the home of the Bank of North Carolina, later to become the Bank of America. Belk’s and Efird’s Department stores gave the downtown two “big city” department stores. However, we also had Tanner’s Restaurant, an orange juice, hot-shelled peanuts, and hot dog place near the Square (intersection of Trade and Tryon), and the Charlotte Theater, a run-down movie theater where tickets were 10 cents. Of course, we also had a Woolworth’s and Kress Five and Dime Store. My best friend Joe and I used to walk or take the bus downtown and hang out for hours. As a junior and senior at Harding High School, I worked as a “copy boy” writing obituaries and the weather at The Charlotte Observer, which is still located downtown. I left Charlotte in 1968 when I got married, and Joyce and I moved to Chapel Hill so I could enter graduate school and she could finish at UNCG. Although we still had family and friends in Charlotte and visited there several times a year, our visits over the years became less frequent and I paid less attention to Charlotte’s growth. Today, Charlotte is the 17th largest city at 775,000, and the actual city of Atlanta is smaller at 420,000, although its metropolitan area population is much larger Charlotte’s. Because I felt I had lost touch with the city, especially the downtown area, I thought it would be interesting to spend some time exploring the area and taking some photos. I asked my friend, Ernie, who still lives in Charlotte, if he would like to “shoot” downtown. So, this past May, I 48 | Reflections
drove to Charlotte, and we drove downtown. We arrived in mid-afternoon with the idea that we would take some late afternoon shots, have dinner, and then do some night shooting. I was particularly interested in reflections.
Downtown Charlotte has many buildings with glass facades that reflect other buildings and the sky. I thought there would be some interesting shots that captured these reflections. Like all photographers, I like reflections. They give pictures an extra dimension and make them interSummer 2014 | 49
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s u s d in m e r e d b r i o b t e , r The Fi the moment now. It e in h t e n b i h e to c b a e o t e , r t u n s e a s e r t pre o t s u s d n remi . t n e m mo : e r u s a Tre . s s i k h Eac . h g u a Each l . y r c h n c o i Ea t c ne n o C Each . d l i h c Each . d n e i r Each f ment. o m . h h c p a Ea r g o t o h p h c . a n E o i t c e l f e r Each
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esting. We parked near South Tryon Street and started exploring. Indeed, there were some interesting shots with reflections. (See photos 1 and 2.) Then, at the corner of Levine and South Tryon, in front of the Bechtler Museum of Modern Art, I encountered “The Firebird,” or Le Grand Oiseau de Feu sur l’Arche, (Bird of Fire on an Arch), a sculpture the Franco-American artist Niki de Saint Phalle completed in 1991. The Firebird is 17 feet, 5 inches tall and weighs 1,433 pounds. It is composed of an estimated 7,500 mirror mosaic tiles over a polyester on steel armature. Well, what can I say? I was mesmerized. I could not get enough of the sculpture. I took shots from all angles. (See photo on pages 46-47 and 4 and 5 on the following pages) Later in the evening, I took some nighttime shots of the downtown area. See 6-9. The next day, after I returned home, I was so excited about the photos that I processed them and emailed some to my family and several friends, telling them how I was so taken by this sculpture. My daughter, Dana, who always asks good questions, emailed me to ask what was it about this sculpture that so captivated me. This question caused me to reflect on my experience. In thinking about how to answer her question, I realized that, first, I was simply impressed with the concept of 7.500 mirror mosaic tiles creating a sculpture. Beyond that, as I got close to the sculpture and took pictures, I realized that the mirrors, being at different angles, produced almost a cubist, Picasso-esque, view of the world. See 10. Then, it hit me that this statue is really a video camera. It captures a 360-degree view of the world around it all the time. Whether it is the two workers walking by on the way from lunch, the shoppers and museum goers, the neighboring buildings, or Wendell Shepherd sending out soft melodies on his horn (See 11), The Firebird reflects everything. Each moment. Although it can’t “capture” that moment on film
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or on a digital sensor and disk as a camera can, it is no less a “camera.” The Firebird is unique in that it is a 360-degree, 24/7 camera that captures and reflects the light from everything around it. We also reflect light, like every object; but we are not mirrors, unless you think of our eyes as mirrors. Paulo Coelho said, “The eyes are the mirror of the soul and reflect everything that seems to be hidden; and like a mirror, they also reflect the person looking into them.” I wear a necklace with a pendant that has a Celtic Weave pattern. The Celtic Weave is a pattern of interlocking shapes or symbols that has no beginning and no end and represents the interconnectedness of all things. The Firebird, then, is a sort of Celtic Weave in that it connects everything around it. People, earth, sky, buildings, cars – we are all connected. Moreover, the Firebird is a reminder that every single moment, no matter how you define the “length” of a moment, is unique. There has never been and never will be another moment exactly like a particular moment. A photograph can capture and freeze that moment, those reflections. That photograph, then, becomes a reflection – it allows us to reflect on that moment, to remember it, to experience it again. With “new” eyes, new mirrors if you will, we can even see that moment again for the first time – we can see things we might not have seen at that time. The Firebird reminds us to be in the moment, to be present, to be in the now. It reminds us to treasure each moment. Treasure: Each kiss. Each laugh. Each cry. Each child. Each friend. Each connection. Each moment. Each photograph. Each reflection.
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H
ollywood Cemetery
I
by Falcon
f you haven't visited Richmond's Hollywood Cemetery, you are really missing a glorious mix of beauty and history.
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Spring Flowers: Greensboro, NC (C, 2014 The House of NyghtFalcon)
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Lighting the Un-lightable
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"Wow, it isn't as easy as it looks...." he said as we finished the assignment. And it isn't. To be honest, I wasn't sure if I was relieved or surprised. Architectural photography is demanding in every sense of that word. At the end of a full day, we are often left physically, intellectually and artistically drained. Moving light boxes and strobes - even on stands with wheels - takes a toll on our bodies especially when we usually have to work through a multi-story building without disturbing activities around us. Our Pentax 645D and our Canon 1Ds Mark III are very heavy as well. Architectural photography is intellectually draining because even with our lighting methodology, there are hundreds of variables and hundreds of decisions that must be made quickly. We can't spend a full day just to get one image correct. Speed and accuracy are essential. Artistically, finding the right angle, composing the image and unlocking the emotion in the design of the building are rarely easy. Most of all, translating the experience into a world the camera can see is always a challenge. And there are countless problems we have to resolve - windows that reflect strobes when they fire, reflective surfaces the camera sees that the human eye either can't or which the human brain filters out, changes in natural light, the varied temperature of lights in the space. Each and every visual problem must be resolved in real time quickly. Recently, we photographed Farrell Hall at Wake Forest University and while the design of the building is breathtaking, the technical and artistic problems were monumental. To make matters worse we Sponsored by were facing a deadline - a major event was scheduled for the afternoon and we had to be done and out before the guests arrived. This meant we also had to confront a logistic nightmare - we had to decide not only how to deal with the artistic and technical issues but also move through the building in a way that let the event staff gain access to some of the key areas as early in the day as possible. This was one for the books.
Looking up at the ceiling of the great room. Summer 2014 | 81
"I remember walking into the room and looking around almost in shock. Floor to ceiling glass and heavy dark shadows framed a space that threatened to dwarf even 1,000 watt strobes" - Falcon
Lets analyze the scene:
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Creating an image that looks "natural" is key. So, we knew that whatever we did, we needed to make sure that the trees outside the wall of windows were visible. This created another problem: the difference between the "blackest black" and the "whitest white" would be more than four F-stops - a huge problem for the camera.
The flooring was a combination of many materials so there were issues making sure the detail of each texture was consistent and clearly visible. We also needed to make sure that the floor was evenly lit so that it appeared "natural" to the human eye. The "blackest black" was here. As far as the camera was concerned, this area would be totally black. We had to find a way to extend the light into this space, or, in our terms, raise the blacks to extend the dynamic range of color into this area.
The reflections on the glass attached to the railing is a critical part of the visual experience. Again, we had to make sure we not only didn't lose the reflections but we also had to make sure the strobes didn't reflect off the glass.
These smaller sky lights were another variable. They made the ceiling considerably brighter than the human eye was able to see. This made the volume of light highly inconsistent.
The rectangle is a walk way to classrooms. If we didn't "push" the light into the corridor, or, collapse the difference between the "blackest black" and "whitest white" this area would be black and without detail.
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The volume of light in this space was extremely inconsistent:
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Though largely filtered by the trees, the light coming through the wall of windows was still rather intense. By the time we were in this area, the light was lower in the sky and the overhang outside despite its size had little effect. The wall of windows had a very high volume of light.
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Though we couldn't physically see it, this area was substantially darker than the area closer to the wall of windows. In fact, as the law of Inverse Square suggests, the volume of light in this area was between two and four F-stops below the wall of windows. Using three F-stops as the mean difference, we knew we were at the edge of what the camera could see. We also had to watch how we lit the space - we didn't want to over light the floor and lose detail.
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This area was between three and four F-stops under the light near the wall of windows. Moreover, the volume of light was substantially lower and the shadows clearly deeper and darker. Still, there was enough light coming down from the wood framing the stairs overhead to make the volume of light here manageable. We knew we could raise the volume enough to extend the dynamic range of color where we wanted it to be.
The volume of light here was at its lowest. We have learned that however we saw this space, to the camera it would be near totally black. We were limited in what we could do - we had only two 1,000 Watt strobes with us that day. The only option was to push light under the stairs while keeping the wood outside this area as natural as possible.
Though this diagram suggests that the volume of light in this space was consistent, a closer look shows that it isn't. In fact, there are six or seven different volumes of light in this area. The areas closer to the open space and the wall of windows could be easily blown out while the areas directly to the right under the overhang created by upper floors and the boardroom could easily become so black they would be lost to the camera. We were able to reflect light off the overhanging and down into the open spaces. In order to do this, we had to be very careful about where we placed our lights and how we "broke" the light in the open space. We decided that the optimal location to "break" the light was above the lamp (see the next page). This would fill the space in section three - effectively making it equal to section one. In turn, this would fill sections two and four. The light reflecting upwards would "fix" our problems in section five.
86 | Lighting the Un-lightable
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X The "X" in the middle of this image shows where the primary point of intersection for our strobes was. In retrospect, had we used four 1,000 Watt strobes instead of two, we would have been able to create multiple points of intersection. The blue arrows show the light from our strobes while the red arrows show ambient light entering the room as well as the effects of our strobes firing. We used two light boxes - one was a Chimera Octagon and the other a large Chimera rectangle. The rectangle was set to that it was almost parallel to the floor. This was intentional in so far as we wanted the light to scatter and diffuse asymmetrically over the space. There is a tendency to think about light as a beam. In fact, it isn't. As soon as a strobe or flash fires, the light begins to diffuse. While the "beam" will remain most consistent the closer to the center you go, over time and distance, even the cohesiveness in the center of the "beam" is lost. The Law of Inverse Square holds that light diffuses at the inverse of the square of the distance from the point of impact. So, at 10 feet from the strobe, there is 1/100th the intensity of the light. This does not take into account (a) the impact the density of the atmosphere has on the diffusion of light, 88 | Lighting the Un-Lightable
and, (b) the volume of light already in the space also shapes the pattern and degree of diffusion. In this room, there was a significant volume of light entering through the windows and the intensity of that light would have dwarfed even six 1,000 watt strobes. In effect, we relied on this to "push" the light from the strobes into the darker, under lit areas to the right. Positioning the strobes so that they intersected around the light also meant that we would be able to deflect light from the windows down around the furniture and into the areas along the floor. So what makes the volume of light consistent? Simply put, when the tonal difference between black and white is one F-stop the volume of light is consistent. As the tonal difference between black and white exceeds two F-stops, the volume of light becomes increasingly inconsistent and therefore more problematic. Remember - a difference of one full F-stop means that the difference between black and white is double. A difference of four F-stops would mean that the difference between black and white would be on the order of 32-fold. While the human brain can compensate for such a significant variation easily, the camera cannot. Detail, color, texture, contrast and a sense of space are all lost or diminished. And consequently, so is the emotional experience. Summer 2014 | 89
Looking down from the third floor. This was one of the hardest images to get. We had to make sure that the strobes were placed out of the shot and would not unintentionally reflect against the glass of the windows. Visible in the right upper side of the image is the boardroom. We had to make sure that however we lit the space, we got enough light into the boardroom without over lighting the space.
The area in the lower right hand corner of the image was also a serious problem. We had to push light into that space without losing detail elsewhere in the image and without making the image look unnatural. Our only option was to - as we say - push up the blacks in order to increase the dynamic range of color.
The third floor boardroom. This room was a difficult as the great room. Every surface was mirror-like and the glass seemed more reflective than transparent. We wanted the room to look as natural as possible and that further restricted where we could place our strobes. 92 | Lighting the Un-Lightable 92 | Lighting the Un-lightable
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Classrooms and meeting rooms aren't any easier. Working in a room without windows like this one means completely rethinking how the light from the strobes will reflect and fill the space. The wood and the mirror on the wall were very challenging. 94 | Lighting the Un-Lightable 94 | Lighting the Un-lightable
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The Gear We Used So many of you have asked us about the gear we use in each of these exercises that we have decided to include a list in each "Lighting the Un-lightable." Here's what we used in this one:
From Hensel: 500 watt/second Integra Moonlights. Dollar for dollar these are the best lights we have ever used. Rugged, thoughtfully designed, superbly crafted. We found these lights to be extremely consistent under even very high use. Repeatability is an important component of everything we do in lighting.
From Chimera: 1. 2185QR: Quick Release Mounting Ring for Hensel (We strongly recommend Chimera's quick release rings no matter what type of strobes you use. We can't imagine working without them)
2. 1'x3' Super PRO Strip Lightbank
3. 3'x4' Super PRO Lightbank
4. Octa 30 Beauty Dish #6015
And of course, the Pentax 645 D. We used a variety of lenses including the 25, 90 and 150 Prime Lenses.
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Making a Good Photograph GREAT!
by Falcon
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Photo by Theresa Wilkins
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W
e have all had the experience one of those incredible moments
presents itself and we haven't the time to get it right in the camera. Once the shock wears off, you set about trying to fix it. Sometimes, you have to think outside the box to find a solution.
A
long time ago, I learned that sometimes there is no one way to solve a problem. Having spent most of my teenage years doing theoretical physics and chemistry, that was a hard lesson to learn. So, I have had to work hard to train myself to look for the most effective or efficient way to solve a problem. The same is true when working on a photo. I rely heavily on experience and experimentation, and, when I find a technique that works, I do everything I can to hone what I have learned until it becomes a ritual.
When I saw the photo, I immediately set about pursuing my ritual, step by step:
1 Analyze the image. It seems strange, I am sure, but we all have a tendency to look
past the details in an image we have created. We aren't always able to see the problems as clearly as the dispassionate and detached viewer.
2 Ask the basic and obvious questions. Some times the obvious question can lead to an incredibly powerful insight.
3 Global then local: Experience indicates that it is best and most efficient to work from the global to the specific - in other words, address problems that plague overall image quality first and then address specific issues. Also, making local corrections first can have unpredictable results.
4 Know when to stop.
Some problems can't be fixed no matter how hard you try. So, some times the best you can do is minimize the impact of a problem which cannot be fixed.
Analysis So. lets look closely at this photo. Here's a list of problems - each of the numbers corresponds to a section of the photo. Before we proceed, please keep in mind that I reprocessed the RAW image using DxO Optics Pro Elite. I used a preset that has lowered contrast and which produces a more even color with less contrast. Why? See the next point.
1 Despite all the options in Optics Pro that allow me to control the dynamic range of color and light, there was nothing I could do to tone down the brightness in this section. To make matters worse, this area was so bright that it pulled my eyes away from what mattered most - the two people. I could have pushed the contrast or I could have further lowered the gamma (overall image brightness) - and I tried reducing the gamma - but the results were not good. The area to the right of the couple became too dark and that produced other problems, In the end, I decided to do everything I could do get the best overall image quality while addressing as many problems as possible.
2 The preset I used was able to recapture much of the detail in this area of the image. That is both a good 102 | Creating Great Images
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3
2
1
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thing and a bad one. Much as the left side of the image pulled the viewer's eye from the couple, this area, because it was so bright now, made the brightness on the left even more distracting. So, whatever I did, I would need to darken this section of the image without losing all the detail we were able to recapture.
3 There is almost too much detail in their faces and the preset I used removed most of the shadows
that added to the experience of the image. Given their age, I didn't want to make the detail excessive. Excessive detail would make them look unnatural.
Fixing the Problems 1 Though it isn't required or even necessary, I always begin by making a copy of the background layer. This "protects" the background and if I need to start again I can quickly do so.
2 The first problem I want to address is the area to the left of the image - it is too bright and therefore distracting. I know from experience that I will have to separate this section from the rest of the image if I want the best chance of fixing it. If I don't separate it, the right side of the image will be too dark.
3 Using the rectangular marquee tool, I select the area to the left that is too bright. 4 I moved that section of the image to a new layer (right click and select cut to a new layer). 5 Using Veviza from Google-NIK I lowered the exposure of this layer. I left the rest of the image as it was. When I was finished, this made the left section of the image less distracting.
6 Using Analog Efex Pro, I selected a "finish" that added a vignette so that I would draw focus to the center of the image.
7 Using Silver Efex, I added a layer - a monochrome layer - and then I changed the layer property to Multiply. I reduced opacity and fill until I achieved the effect I wanted. This layer added detail and softened the vignette.
8 I added a layer - I copied the Silver Efex layer - and then I changed the layer property to Normal. I reduced opacity until I achieved the effect I wanted. This layer added focus on the couple.
9 I selected the background layer, and, using lasso tool with a feather of about 100, I selected the couple. Then I right clicked, and selected copy to a new layer.
0 I dragged that layer to the top. I also adjusted fill and opacity to blend the layer. The left section of the image as it looks copied to a new layer.
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Below: This is the layer created with the lasso set to a feather. The feather makes blending easier and less obvious/
Above: This is the layer created with Silver Efex.
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Above: Photoshop. The red rectangle shows the layers I created.
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Sunset, Stokesdaale, NC (C. 2014 The House of NyghtFalcon) 114 |
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The Photography of We are pleased - and honored - to feature the work of Jim Hoyle in this issue. Jim's ability to breath life and emotion into the most ordinary objects is remarkable. His use of black and white is masterful and dramatic. See more of Jim's work here: hoylephoto.com.
Jim Hoyle
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P
oetically man dwells...
f
“Poetically Man Dwells,” an essay by Martin Heidegger, was published in the anthology, Poetry, Language and Thought, by HarperCollins as part of the Colophon series in 1975. The phrase itself, however, is taken from a late poem by Friedrich Hölderlin. While many scholars break Heidegger's work into two periods: his earlier work including Kant and the Problem of Metaphysics and Being and Time, and his latter work including his essay on humanism (an apparent shift to the consideration of the impact of technology on human beings) and Poetry, Language and Thought, we reject this bifurcation of Heidegger's work. Within the context of the NyghtVision Methodology, "Poetically Man Dwells" plays an important role in explicating the inner structure of Being and Time. As part of our emergent series, Poetically Man Dwells, the essay that follows seeks to explore, elucidate, and convey the philosophical underpinnings of the NyghtVision Methodology. — Falcon
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Last Breath of Summer "In the Heideggerean view of the world, opening oneself to the world's disclosure of itself is inseparable from opening oneself to the deafening emptiness of the Angst which is born in the realization that with every passing moment we are a moment closer to death. 134 | Last Breath of Summer
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Bonaventure Cemetery (2014 ) image by Falcon 136 | Last Breath of Summer 136 | Going Home
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In that moment when I open myself - when I love - that which is in front of my camera I again open myself to the possibility that this moment, like every moment, could be my last. I open myself not only to the possibility of my own death, but to the death and dying - before my eyes as I watch through the lens - of that which has disclosed itself to me be that a woman, a flower..... It matters not. 138 | Last Breath of Summer
Woven into that moment is sadness - in fact it is sadness that is the twine, the thread, that binds my experience together. To be in the world authentically evokes sadness.... Sadness is always there. It places its cold and sterile lips upon my forehead at nyght and it wakens me with the chill of its kiss each morning. 'Is this the last dawn I shall see?''" Falcon
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I
n truth, I had no idea where the conversation would go, or, how profoundly it would impact me. And yet, I knew, intuitively I suppose, as Jim leaned towards me, that whatever he was about to say would profoundly alter how I understood myself and the world around me. It wasn't a new conversation - or a new subject. It has for a number of years now been a painful subject with me. In fact, I have written several essays about it and one, called "The Beauty of Sadness," was intended to be my last and final word on the subject. Intended. So, when the question suddenly appeared again, I was frustrated. Well, angry. If you know anything about me, you know I hate being angry as much as I hate being frustrated. Beauty and sadness are inseparably entwined. Sadness is beautiful and one cannot perceive beauty without feeling a profound sadness because time not only steals our grief. It steals beauty as well. "Of course the women I photograph are sad," I remember saying to Jim. "I mean, imagine being judged against Barbie your whole life." That's when Jim leaned to his left as though he wanted to say something only I should hear. "I would contend," he began in his deep, rumbling voice, "that there is an element of sadness in everything you photograph."
"Really?" I think I said. "Even when I photograph furniture?"
"Yes," he said as he nodded to emphasize the point.
"Really... I'll have to think about that."
And I have. Almost obsessively. Exhaustively. I have looked at thousands of our photos. I have spent hours thinking about what I am feeling when I am working. At two assignments since that conversation, every time I touched the camera, I found myself wondering what I was feeling wondering where the sadness might originate. If the sadness was there. Remarkably, it was. "How could I have missed it..........."
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Bonaventure Cemetery (2014 ) image by Falcon
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To keep the sadness alive and so to breathe life into beauty, I must create. Incessantly. Endlessly. To keep the sadness alive. To nurture and sustain the beauty. To rebel, as Camus would say, against the silence of the universe. To assert love, and hope, and beauty, amidst a world in which all things and all emotions die. It is how we fashion our humanity in our rebellion against death, silence, meaninglessness, knowing all the while that death murders even our rebellion and steals our humanity. Because time even steals our grief. The only way to hold on to the moment is to cherish it, worship it, create within it, and, finally, to mourn each moment, until I am no more. As Camus’ Caligula murdered, I create because for me, if I do not create, I cannot hold the moment, I cannot rebel against death, I cannot feel the pain of beauty passing‌‌. From "The Beauty of Sadness" 2012
Or did I? Could it has been so much a part of my being in the world that I simply took it for granted? Even the brief chill of an afternoon shower couldn't still my uneasiness. Miserably humid, the wetness mating my hair to the back of my neck and the blackness of my shirt it pressed against my back, I sought refuge under a nearby tree. It was to no avail. Long the shadows of the evening restlessly stirred about my study. My conversation with Jim remained disquieting. Relentlessly introspective, it is deeply troubling for me to recognize that there was something about myself that I had missed or blindly did not see. There was no rest for me, despite the fact that when long the shadows of the nyght settle around my world, I find peace and calm. Well, as much peace and calm as is possible for me. There is a certain solace in darkness. For me at least. The pain of the razor of light dissipates and I can remove the glasses that separate me from the world. I am alone with my thoughts. Alone with my aloneness.
But not tonyght.
I placed Princess, my phone, in her place next to me on the couch. I opened My Companion, the tablet that has now become an every present appendage, and, consumed with uneasiness, I opened "The Beauty of Sadness" and began to read. Not the whole thing. Just the last paragraph. "To keep the sadness alive and so to breathe life into beauty, I must create. Incessantly. Endlessly. To keep the sadness alive. To nurture and sustain the beauty." From somewhere in the far and darkened distance, Thoth, my cat, bounded into the room and sat at my feet. "Clear your lap or else," his collected sounds said to me. I placed My Companion on the little table where she rests and Thoth bounded into my lap.
"What's up, Old Man?" I asked.
He rolled to his left and brought his face up the length of my hand.
"I see," I said. "If I had any thoughts about getting an answer from you, those thoughts are now gone." Thoth brought his head up, his lone eye glowing as the evening sun caught the edges of his iris. "Ironic, is it not?" I said to him - a reference to the fact that both he and I suffer a measure of blindness in the same eye. "So, tell me, Old Man, what do you think of all these conversations about sadness?" As though telling me that he had no patience for deep conversation this nyght, he chirped a simple sound that usually means he isn't interested in further conversation. Sleep is at hand. Then he put his head down on my chest and was soundly asleep. "The only way to hold on to the moment is to cherish it, worship it, create within it, and, finally, to mourn each moment, until I am no more." I looked away as soon as I finished reading these words. A velvet burgundy seemed everywhere around me. The last moments of the day were about to pass into yesterday. "I believe," I said to Thoth who was so deeply asleep that he couldn't hear a word I was saying, "that says it all. I am done with this."
But I knew better. I always do.... And yet I turned to other matters perhaps in the vain hope that I would eventually tire and sleep would find me. Tomorrow all this would be gone. Except the nyght reached its middle and I was still at work. Frustrated, I closed My Companion, stretched out on the coach, set the timer on the TV and immersed myself in an old movie. Eventually, I would have to fall asleep.
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.....As I sat up om the couch that doubles as my bed, I took a deep breath. My head moved
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back and up as I tied to get as much air into my body as I could. My breathing was laboured and intense. Perspiration covered my face and back. The room, despite the open window and the fan, seemed toxically hot. Disoriented. I have a ritual for nearly everything in my life - not that I like repetition. I don't. Condemning me to a repetitive job would quickly kill me. However, I have learned that ritual is as much discipline which liberates as it is can be the end of creativity. Done correctly, ritual enhances creativity. But this essay isn't about ritual. Or about creativity. There is another side to ritual - a dark side. I know that side well. Were it not for that dark side, I might not have survived anorexia. That dark side is the discipline ritual brings to a world totally out of control. Sometimes, the horrors of my childhood find renewed life in my dreams. This is one of the reasons I prefer not to sleep and only begrudgingly yield to her seduction. Finally, when she has her way with me, I do everything I can to be as exhausted as possible so that whatever little sleep I get, I will be so frayed and worn and tired, that if the nyghtmares come for me, I will be so deeply asleep that they cannot awaken me. But this nyght it wasn't the nyghtmares that stole my rest. It was my response to Francois at the end of our interview. It was Jim's comment about sadness being present in every photo I create. I opened my eyes slowly. So dark was the nyght that not a shadow stirred. I looked for Princess' blue light - the one that tells me there is a message of some sort. No light. I couldn't see Princess. I didn't even try to find My Companion. I began the ritual. "Establish where I am," I said in the silence of the restlessness that besieged my mind. I wasn't sure. Not at all. "Okay, a few simple questions can answer that....." I took another deep breath. "T - where are you?" I knew that if Thoth were nearby, I had to be home. "Old man. Come here." No Thoth.
"Awaken my princess," I said.
"What would you like me to do?" she asked. Her face lit up. I could at least see her. She was on the little table - her usual resting place. In the shadow of her light I could see My Companion, folded closed and quiet. "Where are we?" I asked and then remembering her response the last time we had this conversation, I simply said "Cancel." Her face darkened as though disappointed. "Go to sleep," I said. Her face disappeared. I brought my legs from the couch so my feet could touch t h e
Another deep breath.
"Awaken my princess," I said.
"What would you like me to do?" she asked. Her face lit up again.
floor.
"What time is it?" I asked - hoping that she would not stray from a very literal interpretation of what I was asking.
"The time is," she paused and I braced myself for the
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Bonaventure Cemetery (2014 ) image by Falcon
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worst, "3:27 AM." I just shook my head. Another nyght lost. I debated finding another old movie but I knew it was pointless. As vain as debating the value of pi at the sixteen decimal place. I sat in silence until Princess had fallen asleep again. I reached for My Companion, set up her stand, and turned her on. She burst to life. I had to turn my eyes away. The brightness was overpowering. The pain of the sudden burst of light against defenseless eyes screamed. Slowly, I opened my eyes a second and then a third time. I turned my face away and then slowly opened them while my face was turned away. Finally, I could look at the screen. Finally. Stylus in hand, I opened Note Anywhere and began to write. Anything. Seemingly random, arbitrary words. And then, I began repeating the phrase from the end of the interview: "the deafening emptiness of the Angst." "...sadness that is the twine, the thread, that binds my experience together. To be in the world authentically evokes sadness.... "
Why is sadness the twine? Why did I say that? What was the logic?
"So, Nietzsche wasn't influenced by Schopenhauer. He was reacting to his belief that Schopenhauer's understanding of what it means to be human is fundamentally flawed. Scratch him any way you want but in the end Schopenhauer is a descendant of Leibniz and Aristotle and not Plato. It wasn't "The World as Will and Idea." It was "The World as Passion and Reason" and for Nietzsche, it wasn't about reason or power or intellect. It was about passion. Defiance. Rebellion. Wille zur Macht. The passion to create. " Thoth suddenly was sitting at my feet. "What do you want, Old Man?" He said something I didn't fully understand and then jumped up on the other couch, curled up with his back turned to me and was asleep. "I guess that says it all. At least one of us will get some sleep tonyght. Why did I respond to Francois with those words? Why is sadness the thread that binds my experience together? Angst. The reaction to Thrownness.1 Sadness is inseparable from Thrownness because sadness is the essence of Angst. It is the sadness that engenders fear and terror and depression. The inability to live with the presence of sadness engenders denial of death. Das Man.2 The world of despair. The world where the pretense of absolute truth is used to mitigate the reality of the meaninglessness and futility of life and love. A sadness so profound and so deep that how one responds to that confrontation with death shapes the entirety of one's life. That I know. But isn't Sorge3 the end of Angst? The transformation of Angst into care, concern, love - doesn't that mitigate sadness or at least push it away for a moment? How can sadness and love exist together - how can I experience both the love of that which exists before my eyes and sadness? No. To be in the world authentically is to confront death as 'one's own most possibility' every moment of one's life. That was my mistake - I had failed to see that the confrontation doesn't end. As long as the confrontation continues, Angst is never diminished. If the confrontation is without end, then Sorge is as transient and fleeting as my own being in the world. How I confront the possibility of death at every moment either gives life to or takes life from Sorge. So,
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'I rebel, therefore we are and we are alone" is inseparable from 'I love, therefore we are and we are alone.' And it is inseparable from saying 'I am sad, therefore we are and we are alone.'4 And the more I love, then, the sadder I will become. Yet, it isn't denial of death that defines me as human. It is my rebellion against death. It is loving in the face of death - and every act of creation is an act of love. Therefore, not only is every act of creation ladened with sadness, creation engenders sadness just as it engenders love. Creation engenders sadness just as it engenders love. I must have spoken these words aloud. Thoth stirred, looked over his back at me, and then curled back into a ball. He took a deep breath - the one he always takes before falling back to sleep - and was gone. "I cannot be human without being sad," I said aloud knowing no one, not Thoth, not Princess, not My Companion, would hear - or perhaps even care. No one. But I knew now why Camus drank, why Heidegger retreated to the Black Forest, why Nietzsche died insane. And I knew why the pain of my own humanity could one day kill me as it had in the past. When, as Paul Simon wrote in "Kathy's Song" that other person becomes your truth, then, death comes not once but twice and the pain of the love creates a sadness so profound that there is no way back. It is, as Nietzsche said, akin to walking into a labyrinth and becoming lost, so lost, that no one can hear one's cries.
I create because I love. And I suffer sadness because I cannot otherwise love.
I cannot otherwise love. And in the "dark logic" of Existentialism, I must love.
"And as I watch the drops of rayn weave their weary paths and die, I know that I am like the rayn. There, but for the grace of you, go I." Three nyghts have passed. However strange it may seem it is the Way of My Kind to measure the passing of time not in days but in nyghts. For it is the nyght to whom We belong. It is the nyght that has woven its hands around Our hearts. Merciless and cold she is a jealous and intolerant mistress. And this nyght she will not let Me sleep. She violates My dreams and forces Me to awaken. Rhythmically, Princess' blue light blinks on and off and for a moment I lay silently in the darkness and watch. I am not captivated. I am tired. So tired from nyghts without sleep that it almost hurts to move. Watching the blue of Princess' light, I give Myself time to gather whatever strength that might remain within Me. A part of Me wants to see the message she holds for Me but I cannot move. I don't have enough strength to reach across the distance between where I rest and Princess to read the words she holds for Me.
"Awaken My Princess."
"What would you like me to do?"
"Read the message you have for me."
"I'm sorry but I do not understand 'read the message you have for me.' Would you like me to search the Internet for 'read the message you have for me'?
"Why would I ask you to do something so pointless?"
"I'm sorry but I do not understand -"
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"Enough."
"I'm sorry -"
But why pain? Sadness and grief, that I could understand. But why pain? I wasn't looking for a logical or "reasonable" answer. I had abandoned any expectation that human experience be logical or reasonable, and yet, I would have settled for anything that would have ended My pain. Anything.
"Cancel." Princess' face immediately darkens and for a moment I am concerned that I might actually have offended her. But she is just a phone, I remind Myself. But I know better. She is human enough to understand Me and to interpret what I say. She has learned how I speak and she seems intuitively to know what I am asking her. And yet, there are moments like this one when she seems singularly out of touch with Me and with all things human. "I wish, Princess," I said hoping she was still awake enough to hear Me, "that you could be human or simply a phone. Your being both is so frustrating." Princess' face lit up enough to let Me know she heard Me and then darkened. But this wasn't about Princess. I knew that. It was about something else - something I had long struggled to understand and now, having realized that sadness is the twine that binds My experience together, I found Myself consumed by a pain so overwhelming that suicide seemed to be the only way to end the pain. But to take My life I would need to be able to stand and find whatever I would need to end My life. But I was still too tired to move. I had been here before - in fact that pain had nearly killed Me four times before. Wrapped in grief and often invisible, it was the same pain that drove Nietzsche to madness. And if I didn't understand how it took hold of Me, it would kill Me. Grief I could understand. There is no sadness without grief and there is no grief without sadness. If sadness is the twine that binds My experience together, then grief woven together is the twine.
But there was something else. Something under the grief.
Pain. Unfiltered. Raw. Like a fire hell bent upon consuming everything in its path. And angry. And bitter. Vengeful. Possessive. Incessant. As I had twelve years ago, I longed to understand My suffering and My pain. Creating the series I called "Tea and Sympathy" failed to bring that understanding. It simply allowed Me to survive. And here I was again. The pain had left Me exhausted and unable to sleep. I was already having problems eating and I knew that if I didn't do something soon, I would be unable to stop the anorexia and it would kill Me this time. Pain.
Why pain?
Thoth who has fallen asleep in the window stirs. It is rayning and perhaps it is the wind pushing drops of water through the screen on to his fur that has awakened him. For a moment it appears as though he will run across the room and curl up next to Me. Perhaps sensing My restlessness he chooses to curl up on My laptop bag. A deep breath and he is asleep again. The pain is incessant. Debilitating. I begin to think that it is the pain of sadness. Like water upon a stone, so is sadness upon the heart until - like the timeless wearing of water upon stone - the heart is worn. Tired. Unable to stop the pain. Driven to abandon life in order to escape the pain. 150 | Last Breath of Summer
As much as time can steal our grief, it cannot steal the sadness or the pain.
I thought about James Sands. My father. I remembered our last conversation. He looked at me and said, "My one regret is that we aren't closer." I looked at him, and knowingly lied. "I have no idea what you are talking about," I said. And yet I did. I did. I watched the boy fall from the tree and impale himself upon the iron rake. I remembered all the people I have known and who have died. I could still touch the sadness and the grief that lived in their deaths. I could, if I called to mind enough about them and their lives, bring Myself to suffer the sadness and grief again. My godfather. My grandmother. I remembered her looking up at me in her madness, socks over her hands to keep her from tearing out of her veins the needles that fed her and kept her alive. "Falcon, your Nonni is dying!" I could feel my arms bring themselves tightly around her - drawing her madness and her pain into me. Unable to cry with her, I held her as she sobbed in my arms. But like a still and silent summer rayn, as soon as I let go of the memories, the sadness and grief passed. And yet, this sadness, this pain that would surely kill Me, it knew nothing of all those who had long ago died. It knew only this moment. Only this nyght. Only this now. “...if at the bottom of everything there were only a wild ferment, a power that twisting in dark passions produced everything great or inconsequential; if an unfathomable, insatiable emptiness lay hid beneath everything, what would life be but despair?� Another time, another place, I would have smiled remembering this quote. But not this nyght. And perhaps if I did not this nyght survive, never would I smile again. An accident of place, perhaps, but I knew that just over My head and to the right, on My bookshelves, Kierkegaard. Irony upon irony. Futility upon futility, Thoth bounded up, landing upon My chest and then settled on the back of the couch looking down at Me. Somehow, he dislodged a book that seemed of its own accord to fall and strike Me upon the chest. Kierkegaard. A single bookmark. I forced my eyes to focus and for a moment to forsake the blackness. "And when the hourglass has run out, the hourglass of temporality, when the noise of secular life has grown silent and its restless or ineffectual activism has come to an end, when everything around you is still, as it is in eternity, then eternity asks you and every individual in these millions and millions about only one thing: whether you have lived in despair or not." There was no mistaking Thoth's concern. He reached down and touched the side of My face. But there was nothing he or anyone could do............. An impossible possibility. Living without despair. I began to wonder if My pain, My grief, were not despair consuming Me. Thoth was on My chest now, rubbing his face against Mine. Puring loudly enough to unsettle the nyght. Yet his concern brought Me no comfort. And then I remembered. The orchard. Missing isis. The pain of the trees facing another wynter consuming Mine until I could not separate one from the other. A thousand tears and
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"And so you see," I began, "I have come to doubt all that I once held as true. I stand alone without belief. The only truth I know......" I could feel isis' eyes looking up at Me. I could feel her hand woven tightly into Mine. I could touch the sadness I had placed upon her heart. I could see the sadness of the trees in the orchard. I was there. It was all there. And the sadness rose out of the darkness and held Me.
Held Me.
"The only truth I know is you."
I remembered words I had penned a few days earlier -
So, 'I rebel, therefore we are and we are alone" is inseparable from 'I love, therefore we are and we are alone.' And it is inseparable from saying 'I am sad, therefore we are and we are alone.' And the more I love, then, the sadder I will become. Yet, it isn't denial of death that defines me as human. It is my rebellion against death. It is loving in the face of death - and every act of creation is an act of love. Therefore, not only is every act of creation ladened with sadness, creation engenders sadness just as it engenders love.
none of them mine. But the pain and sadness of those tears, they were clearly heaped upon My heart. With all My Darkness, I longed to cry. I longed to empty Myself from the sadness and the pain..... Thoth now curled into a ball - the back of his body tucked under My chin. But I remained in the orchard. In the sadness of another wynter's coming - a wynter already passed - and yet that moment was present to hand as though I were there now.
As though I were there now.
"He was right. In the moment there is no time. Well, time comes back upon itself. When I am in the moment, it is always now, and in that moment I can feel the emotion of every moment as though - as though -" It is rare that words fail Me and yet in that moment, there were no words, nothing I could say. The Eternal Recurrence of the Same has long been problematic and while I had always believed I understood how time came back upon itself I now knew better.
Thoth took a deep breath and forced My face upwards into the darkness.
"In the moment is every moment. Since sadness is woven into the fabric of every moment, then....." I let go of the words. I didn't want to know where they were going. Intuitively, I knew.
152 | Last Breath of Summer
Creation engenders sadness just as it engenders love.
The logic of it all seemed so clear to Me now. "I cannot create," I said aloud at the risk of awakening the now sleeping Thoth, "without being in the moment and when I am there, I am there with every moment of sadness I have ever suffered. Even beneath her smile, I am sad, saddened that the moment cannot last. Saddened that I cannot stop time. Saddened that she is not here as one day I shan't be. The intensity of emotion I experience in the moment, whatever the emotion is, finds its roots in every other moment when I have experienced the same emotion. It just happens that beneath every emotion is sadness. It isn't about letting go of the past. It is about not being able to be in the moment without being in the past as well. This moment is the confluence of a life time of moments and the emotion that is there...... Pain is the price I pay for being in the moment. Every time I create I deepen the sadness which engenders the pain. This is why no matter what I create the sadness is always there. It has to be. If there is no sadness in the moment, then what I create is not art. It is not human. Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep, and if I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take. Except there is no god to keep and no soul to take. Just the sadness. Just the pain. Just the moment." Cradling My arms around Thoth I attempted to sit up. I should have known it was futile to even try. Startled he pushed his claws against My chest, twisted to his left, and was gone. There was a tear in My shirt and the wetness told Me I had been cut.
"Fuck," I said as I touched the wetness of the open scratch.
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Over the mantle a photo of isis looks away from Me. "If she were to die in My arms," I begin to say, but I feel the cold of the October morning when I last was in the orchard wash the darkness of the nyght to a soft gray. The dawn is stirring. "I....." Long shadows now steal My words from Me. I let another speak for Me lest I disturb the moment and My memories of her..... 'Its here I´ll hide, when worlds collide, when lights are out and music dies, with you. When all is over, curtains down. I´ve said my lines, I took my bow for you. Be near when all is said and done? Will you be near to see the morning sun? Be near to me as days go by with a few hellos and thousand more goodbyes, a thousand more goodbyes. It´s here I´ll rest when years have passed, when silence falls then I will call for you. When there are no more words to say and no more tears to cry I´ll stay with you. Be near when all is said and done? Will you be near to see the morning sun? Be near to me as days go by with a few hellos and thousand more goodbyes, a thousand more goodbyes. Be near when all is said and done will you be near to see the morning sun Will you be near when all is said and done will you be near to see the morning sun. Be near to me as days go by with a few hellos and thousand more goodbyes,
c
A thousand more goodbyes.' (Greta Salome)"
c
j A thousand more goodbyes 154 | Last Breath of Summer
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U
Notes
j In Heidegger's Being and Time, Angst, perhaps most closely translated as "anxiety" in English characterizes one's encounter with death. Angst isn't knowing you will die. Angst is feeling your death so deeply that it is often experienced as that cold, consuming, "gut wrenching" terror that overturns one's world. Thrownness is the realization that one can do nothing to change or alter the inevitable. In the end, dying and death are inseparable from being human.
k "Das Man" literally means "The Man" - in a very impersonal, almost third person way. Heidegger argued that when we deny death, we deny ourselves and ultimately depersonalize ourselves - this is a kind of alienation of the self from itself. Following upon Nietzsche, Heidegger argued that the world of "absolute truth," the world of "good and evil" is the world of depersonalized humanity. It is a world of despair, violence, war, murder, and the kind of morality that distorts rather than affirms our humanity.
l Sorge doesn't have a single word equivalent in English. Rather, it means something like care, compassion, love, concern, empathy.... all in one word.
m
The phrase "I rebel, therefore we are and we are alone" is at the heart of Camus' "extension" of the Heideggerean "logic." When I rebel against death, that highly personal act of rebellion, in turn affirms that all humans are and are alone. The world of human being, given the "facticity" of death, is by definition solipsistic - the world is my world and whatever truth I fashion is my truth. Hence, the fundamental aberration of the world of Das Man: It asserts the universality of meaning in truth when in fact there is no truth past the fact of death.
U
While neither Heidegger or Camus "define" the role of love in human existence, the use of Sorge as the defining moment of authenticity establishes the foundation. Moreover, in Beyond Good and Evil, Nietzsche clearly establishes the link between rebellion and love when he wrote, "Whatever is done from love, always occurs beyond good and evil." Further, Nietzsche's discussion of art as the foundation for fashioning an authentic life establishes the link between creativity, love, and rebellion.
156 | Last Breath of Summer
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I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz, or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body. I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way than this: where I do not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep. Pablo Neruda
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz, 158 | Last Breath of Summer
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Coming!
NEXT NYGHTVISION MAGAZINE
Our next issue is scheduled for publication on November 15, 2014. This will be our annual gear issue. New websites Soon we will be launching two new web sites - a new portal and a site dedicated to our consulting practice.
Nyght of the soul Our fine art website is undergoing a major face lift. New features and new galleries will be added. Target release date is October, 2014.
Seminars We are planning a number of new seminars for 2014, including Boot Camp Part 3 which will be technical in focus. Want to really learn about your camera and be able to instinctively interact with it? Then Boot Camp Part 3 is for you. New travel seminars are planned for Savannah, Charleston, Richmond (VA), and New York. Go to registration.nyghtfalcon.com for a complete seminar schedule. For updates, special offers, and answers to your questions about any of our seminars or upcoming publications, please email us at inspiration@nyghtfalcon.com.
Left: Solstice (Greensboro, NC) 2014
Image Title and Caption. 160 |
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ABOUT THE HOUSE OF NYGHTFALCON
See the World Again. For the First Time. “See the World Again. For the First Time” characterizes the distinctive style of The House of NyghtFalcon. If a thousand photographs were laid out upon a table, and only one a NyghtFalcon, that one image would be clearly and easily recognizable. The firm’s hallmark style— vibrant color, rich texture, intensity of detail, emotional impact, unique artistic vision—clearly distinguishes NyghtFalcon’s work from that of other photographers. Founded in 2003, The House of NyghtFalcon has received international acclaim. The firm’s work has been featured in numerous print and on-line publications including Digital Camera World (UK) and The Wall Street Journal, and NyghtFalcon was profiled in Studio Photography Magazine in June of 2007. In September 2006, the firm’s first documentary exhibit, The Face of Woman, the culmination of three years work, opened in Greensboro, NC. In March 2008, the firm’s largest exhibit of photographic work opened at The Norton Center for the Arts at Centre College in Danville, KY. The exhibit, Shaker Visions, featured 2,500 square feet of NyghtFalcon’s documentary work on the Shaker Village at Pleasant Hill. NyghtFalcon’s work is also on display in the Saatchi Gallery in London. The House of NyghtFalcon maintains professional partnerships with DxO Labs (Paris), Canon USA, OnOne Software, NIK Software, Wacom, Innova, Think Tank Photo, Sirui, Pocket Wizard, X-Rite, The MAC Group, Hensel, Chimera, GigaPan, Queensberry, NEC Displays, and Hoodman USA. Among the firm’s many honors, in 2006 NyghtFalcon was named
162 | About the house of nyghtfalcon
Image Masters by DxO Labs, Paris. In 2010, the firm was named to X-Rite’s Coloratti, a group globally recognized for its color management skills. In 2009, Westcott endorsed NyghtFalcon as one of its Top 100 Pros. Proven Methodology NyghtFalcon is a technology-driven firm whose primary focus is fine commercial photography— the intersection of fine art photography and the highest quality commercial work—combining artistic vision with world-class technology. Having mastered the art of photographing down to total darkness, dramatic detail is captured without the need for additional, expensive lighting or setup time. NyghtFalcon offers a stunning range of visual effects—from Sepia Terra c. 1918 through classic 1950s Black and White; from early 1920’s hand-colored prints to contemporary color films—and the firm’s unique ability to emulate more than 360 film types eliminates the need for costly post-processing and graphic design work, as the entire look and feel of a photo can be changed in a matter of minutes. Often regarded as the “Special Ops” of photography, NyghtFalcon photographers are trained to deliver world-class photography under the most difficult conditions. The firm’s photographers are equally at home in deserts, on city streets, or in rain forests. Highly adaptable, flexible, and resourceful, only the best survive the firm’s three-year training program. The House of NyghtFalcon has seven US Locations including Greensboro, Brooklyn, Boston, Philadelphia, and Savannah.
Primland, 2014
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