So excited to be part of two exhibitions opening tomorrow.
There's just something about buildings designed by architect Frank Gehry. Their flow, texture, changing light and shadows makes my heart sing. This image was captured at the Ohr-O'Keefe Museum in Biloxi, Mississippi.
Rivulets of silver rain reflect along the wall of glass
Hopeful and blue
Individual drops of life-igniting pearls
One, then two and soon a thousand heart beats pound against the roof in a confluence of water force
They pour together into pools and puddles and overflowing banks
Becoming streams and rivers flowing deep into the roots of a waking thirsty world
Serendipity? A master plan?
I dwell on this for a second or two
At least until the sun bursts through and brings the change
A new light bends in disconcerting shapes like a kaleidoscope of pent up winter energy
Reflecting greens and pinks and buds exploding out beyond my window pane
Drinking it all in and opening
Trunks and branches, stems and petals, reaching up in gasps and swirls
As spring unfurls
PhotoLyrics - Poetry by Mark Safran - Photograph by Doré Vorum
While wandering the streets of New Orleans I came upon a busy intersection. Before crossing I looked left, then right and when I saw this mural I stopped. It was while viewing the past with a shadow of the present, I remembered Chief Seattle's quote.
"Man did not weave the web of life, he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself. "
Mud caked wings and tearless eyes
the disillusioned angel flies.
She carries a weight unfathomable that even she can't overcome
Too many children born into chains or drained of their light at an early age.
Lifting soul after soul, till she's broken and numb.
Yet relentlessly, she forges on.
Beleaguered wings beat slower now
once fueled by hope against these clouds.
She carried each child immeasurable with nursing caresses to soften the scars
But too many are found among plantation graves or in Birkenau or the Unity State
A Connecticut school and in west Peshawa
Yet relentlessly, she forges on.
Through centuries of hate and lies
the disillusioned angel flies.
She carries her disappointment hard, igniting our guilt with a grief stricken heart
Too much to bear in Srebrenica fields or in Mumbai brothels or among human shields
A stilled child eased from a mother’s grieved arms
Yet somehow she forges on.
PhotoLyrics - Poetry by Mark Safran - Photography by Dore' Vorum
Look up, look down, look all around
Up in the air or on the ground
Come for a walk, come for a ride
There's so much to see so come outside
Often when I wander with my camera this children’s poem plays in my head. I come home with pictures when shooting at eye level, but when I look up, look down, look all around, magic happens.
Oh the photographs I would capture on a recent trip to Brooklyn: the river, bridges, and architecture, danced in my head. Alas, my hopes dropped as quickly as the temperature the day I visited. I knew it was time to head inside when my finger could no longer press the shutter, frost nipped. What to do? I went to the Brooklyn Museum which offered warmth, incredible art and an amazing glass ceiling. Lying in the middle of the atrium floor, I took countless photographs of the ceiling including the image above.
Not what I expected or hoped for, but by allowing myself to see new possibilities, something different.
Many years ago an amazing photographer shared these words of wisdom "If you see red, shoot it". It is a mantra I have followed to this day. Though over time I've modified it a bit to include black and white. Seeing the three colors together, like this image in Tampa, makes my heart sing.
re·flec·tion, noun. The throwing back by a body or surface of light, heat, or sound without absorbing it. "the reflection of light"
When I share my reflection photographs, folks are curious about how I saw the scene. It is something I find difficult to explain because it is not what I saw, but a feeling that drew me in. It is the feelings of wonderment, lightness, happiness, curiosity and serendipity that I try to capture with my camera.
Reflections: San Antonio Riverwalk 5. Minor adjustments to exposure, but pretty much what came out of my camera.
Shortening days and falling temperatures are heralding the arrival of winter which occurs at one instant on the shortest day of the year, today at 11:28 am ET. It is when the sun is at its lowest, or most southern position in the sky. The transition happens at the same moment around the world, though its local time depends on which of the 24 times zones you call home. Starting tomorrow the days will grow longer, though only a few minutes a day, until we celebrate the longest day of the year, the summer solstice. And so it goes, one season at a time.
On a recent trip to NYC I had preconceived ideas of what I wanted to photograph. All went out the window when the weather turned cold and rainy. Instead I visited museums and when there was a break in the weather, would wander the streets.
The image above was captured as I was walking near the High Line where a lot of construction was underway and it was all being reflected in an existing building. Minor adjustments in Lightroom, but pretty much what came out of my camera.
Lessons learned ... again. Make lemonade out of lemons. Look up, down and all around, the images surround you.
Like a fine wine sometimes an image or the photographer, that would be me, needs to wait before it can be processed. As an example, recently I made the photograph above yet it was captured in 2011. Did I not take the time to really look at each thumbnail and see the potential? Have the toolbox or skills to make the image in my minds eye? I don't know the answer, but what I do know is, going forward I'm going to slow down and look, really look at my images one at a time.
I was captivated by a beautiful light sculpture suspended above my head and took many images from above, below, level, and while swiping my camera. When creating photographs, it was the images where my camera and I moved together, as if in a dance, that sang to me.
Reminder to self, be open to all possibilities .. the results may surprise you.
No visit to San Francisco would be complete without visiting the Golden Gate Bridge. Amazing photographs of the magnificent structure abound on the web, but I wanted something different. Instead of walking across the bridge or shooting from the overlooks, I wandered below the bridge and came upon an unobstructed view of the underbelly along with a lighthouse and best of all, I was the only person there.
Wander often. What you discover may surprise you.
On a bitterly cold day along the Hudson River in New York City, crowds gathered by the railing to await the sunset. The incoming storm clouds that filled the sky created a spectacular view that did not disappoint the shivering onlookers. When the sun had finally descended below the horizon, people scattered in search of warmth. It was then that the real show began for those of us lucky enough to still be around for it. Everything mixed together with the twilight sky. As I was shooting the scene before me, I noticed a hint of color out of the corner of my eye and I looked behind seeing a magical scene: the sky, harbor and river being reflected in a piece of old wavy window glass. I quickly pressed the shutter and captured the image above.
Look up, down and all around, the images surround you.
I love to wander with my camera. It slows me down and allows me to see things that I may have otherwise overlooked, such as Urban Liquid. I was crossing a busy street in Philadelphia when I noticed the rounded side of a bus shelter reflecting the street scene behind me: crosswalks, buildings, newspaper racks, trees, cars and people, all blending together to create my image.
Minor adjustments were made during post-processing, but the image you see was pretty much straight out of my camera.
A thin layer of plexiglass separated me from the decommissioned Minuteman Missile. Being so close to something that could have destroyed our world had a chilling effect. Especially since nuclear weapons still exist and a single person, our president, can launch them.
Humankind has not woven the web of life. We are but one thread within it. Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves. Chief Seattle
Great blog about an exhibition I was recently part of at the Philadelphia Photo Arts Center, including the discussion below about my piece by Deborah Krieger of Humble Arts Foundation.
"With any large group exhibition, having many different artist submissions accepted is both a curatorial blessing and a challenge. On one hand, every conceivable juxtaposition of works has the potential to tell a truly exciting story, while on the other, it can be an obstacle to figure out where some outliers should be displayed, whether they be outliers in terms of quality or subject matter. The Philadelphia Photo Arts Center Members Show, up earlier this month in the Crane Building, is a good example of the logistical and artistic difficulties inherent in working with so many diverse voices, styles, and subjects, even within the singular medium of photography."
"The works are divided into roughly four different clusters in the large, airy space of the Photo Arts Center, but they don’t seem to be necessarily linked by particular photographic technique, subject matter, or even aesthetic; instead, the various themes that spring up are made present here and there amidst smaller groupings of between two and four works at a time. This decision is where the strengths of this Members Show lie, as well as within individual works themselves, even when the larger groupings don’t seem to have the same cohesion."
"A pairing of two crisp photographs by Betsey Hansell and Dore Vorum, for example, is cleverer than it initially seems. Here Comes the Sun by Vorum, is abstract, awash with slippery color residue and small air bubbles, while Hansell’s contribution, Untitled, is a more straightforward piece of nature photography, depicting a spray of green spiky leaves laid atop a ground of dry, cracked earth. Yet stepping back from the two works reveals that as different as they may seem, these two works match compositionally: both images are horizontally oriented, with a brownish form that stretches across the painting about four-fifths of the way down. Additionally, the sharp lettering on what seems to be a glass surface in Vorum’s photograph echoes the type of leaves that populate Hansell’s. This pairing is the strongest in the show overall because it does what an exhibition ought to: it makes you look hard at the works of art themselves, allowing you to see new things with each (in this case, comparative) glance."
To read the complete article, click here.