A nomadic blog oscillating between Vancouver, New York and Cape Town, gathering HDR photos and jotting notes along the way

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Jun 24
   Vintage! This is a random post. The year was 2007...

Still playing with exposure blending and HDR

Experimenting with a new beta FFDD script kindly provided for testing by Timothy Farrar, I must say that I am having a whole lot of fun with photography and HDR, and have come to the following uncorrelated conclusions:

  • The level of noise reduction achieved by blending multiple bracketed exposures into a final HDR digital negative is amazing;
  • I need a better lens or two. The generic zoom lens that came with the Canon XTi is just not good enough, too soft and cheap, as any bundled lens;
  • I must, repeat, MUST get myself very soon to an area that has reds and yellows and oranges. BC’s beautiful blues and greens are getting on my nerves. ;-)

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2007-06-24 14:57 • Posted in Photoblogs: & Vancouver: 9 Comments » Toggle display • Reply
We now go back to current chronological entries:
Jun 15

Beauty, the greatest art scam ever

To my everlasting shame, I think I just spent a moment looking at my latest English Bay pictures and might even have let out a sigh of satisfaction. Then of course I froze, having been given a taste of what Marcel Pagnol called « flagrant délit d’humanité » - I caught myself in the act of being human, hence weak. There’s nothing wrong with being happy with my own work now and then, I reasoned. But there might be something wrong if I fail to realize the futility of it.

So after a thoughtful episode, I have bad news for some of us, especially those who own pieces of art worth millions of dollars. For reference, Andreas Gursky, the German photographer I was writing about recently, is famous for holding the world record for the highest price paid at auction for a single photographic image; a few years ago, somebody, somewhere, decided to pay 3.3 million US dollars for one of his large prints!

Because you see, it would seem that beauty is a scam, and art along with it. A great, masterful illusion conceived and perfected by the human mind in order to make our earthly existence more bearable. The very fact that we observe our universe defines it, quantum physics has shown that. However, we must be lucid enough to understand that none of our very subjective beauty criteria truly exist out there. The fact is there are no such things as colors. Nor is there anything like shape, or texture. No sounds. No smells. And hence, no beauty.

The above qualities only exist in our intellect as a translation by our senses of the universe, adjusted through our imagination and tweaked for cultural standards. Think about it, a dog must see something when looking at a Picasso, but it certainly wouldn’t call it beautiful. (Well, I wouldn’t, either.) Every creature on earth sees or perceives a completely different universe. None is more real than the other. In fact, none are real, period.

In the end, the only beauty is in the way our brain is able to decode essential physical data and output a rendering of it that creates a tangible and comforting reality and accepts subjective criteria such as size, time, quality and beauty.

My pictures might look good to me one day, and bad another. They might always look bad to you. Or someone might buy one of my prints for millions of dollars (wishful thinking.) But in the end, they are just a paradox: a material representation of something that is immaterial. Atoms representing other atoms.

English Bay didn’t exist more that night than it does right now. The universal substance it is made of was there all right, a fluid quantum soup as some call it, but nowhere in its atoms and particles does it mention a bay and calm water and boats and a park. They are just particles, energy as potential and probability.

The rest is our creation, our rendition. So instead of judging the beauty around us, maybe we should look inwards and assess the beauty within. Because that’s where it all starts, and where it all ends.

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2009-06-15 14:04 • Posted in Schtroumpfissime: 7 Comments » Toggle display • Reply
Jun 14

Reciprocity failure

Leaving home a touch before sunset and only then heading towards Stanley Park was a smart move. Daylight was shifting slowly but steadily into a lower spectrum, yawning lazily while putting its night gown on. Afternoon heat had given way to a pleasant, perfumed evening gentleness. I found myself going against the human tide washing back to town, and on a Friday night, it was considerable. It was past nine o’clock and people would now be headed for their inebriating stations. Some had already reached them on a beach or a bench, judging by the loudness of their laughter and the complicated trajectory of their return to civilization.

A dozen police officers were strolling down English Bay Beach, chatting, eyes and ears awake but looking friendly and nonthreatening. I never see old cops in Vancouver. I wonder what happens to them past 30. They probably get recycled. In any case, Friday night on the beach sounds like a nice assignment.

The hot-dog man was at his ritual spot, selling long hot snacks dripping with multicolor condiments, their smell floating around and advertising silently for him. Just in front of his caboose, a street performer had taken position on the grass and was throwing his usual jokes at a gathering crowd through a squeaky microphone. Further towards the beach, someone was playing a music box. I paused for a moment, trying hard to put a finger on the familiarity of this scene. Then it all came back to me:

And the piano sounds like a carnival
And the microphone smells like a beer
And they sit at the bar and put bread in my jar
And say « Man what are you doin’ here? »

Billy Joel - Piano Man

I pushed on towards Second Beach. The swimming pool had long closed down for the day and its surface reflected the sunset in a perfect mirror. I had intended to maybe go as far as Siwash Rock but as the glowing star began to dip behind the mountains on the horizon, I decided to settle down for a while and enjoy the show. The world shifted from « before » to « after » as a sailboat rolled softly at anchor, its mast repeatedly sweeping across the sun’s shrinking disk.

People stopped around me, some sat down on benches too and the air grew silent. There isn’t much else to do at sunset than stare and grasp a friendly hand very hard if one is available. Mine wasn’t, not just yet, but I could feel it nonetheless and found great comfort along with fleeting sadness as I reached over the continent and held her tight.

There is a strange, silent rule that seems to command most people to put their camera away once the sun has gone. It’s ironic because Abetoo only fully awakes at that time. Of course, a tripod becomes quintessential and most strollers don’t carry one. I walked a little longer, until I reached a place on the Seawall where I felt every second I wasted was a shot missed. There was a giant log stranded not far from shore and I elected it as my first willing subject.

Taking long exposures, using a 4x neutral density filter, low ISO and a high aperture number to compensate for the remaining light, I got a lot of time to look around me. People were passing by, curiously looking at my setup and clearly wondering what I was doing still out here while darkness crept in. One usually expects a photographer to peer endlessly through his viewfinder and the image of me nonchalantly standing next to my camera doing absolutely nothing will have made them ponder and maybe laugh.

As I pushed my exposures up to 4 minutes, I found that something was blurring my shots. There was no wind and the tripod could be assumed to be rather steady. It took me a while to realize that every time runners and bikers zoomed by a few feet away from me, they probably sent enough vibration through the asphalt to slightly shake the camera. I began to time my shots between human interference.

I had forgotten to bring my strong spotlight and with the night having for all practical purposes arrived, focusing on foreground subjects became increasingly tricky. My IS lenses aren’t parfocal and do not have a DOF scale, nor did I have my hyperfocal distance chart (I have since then printed it and will laminate it, scrogneugneu!), so everything became a guessing game. Silhouettes were floating next to me and I could see puzzled looks.

Eventually, when I could no longer focus accurately, I turned around and headed back home. Leaving the evening behind and having received so much from it in terms of beauty and peace, I felt a bit uneasy and worried that I had failed to reciprocate, to contribute.

So I do hope that these pictures - all of them shot in advanced darkness except for the 2 last - will compensate for my selfishness or even better, that they might make you decide to go for a walk around Stanley Park tonight, armed with a tripod, your camera and patience. And let the night do the talking.

Note: I titled this post « Reciprocity Failure » as a wink to the actual term and an intro to my last paragraph, but I should probably point out that it only technically applies to film, not digital photography.

However, I’ve noticed that a similar effect is felt digitally when reaching exposure durations beyond 30 seconds. For instance, if my meter fluctuates in Manual mode around 30 seconds, and a test shot at 30 secs seems only slightly underexposed (my camera’s speed dial goes from 30 secs to bulb), one would think doubling the exposure would be sufficient to achieve a correctly exposed image, hence exposing for 60 seconds. In practice, though, I’ve found that two or three additional f-stops are usually required to get a correct exposure, i.e. at least 120 seconds in this case. That to me sounds a lot like reciprocity failure minus the color shift...

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2009-06-14 10:54 • Posted in Photoblogs: & Vancouver: 5 Comments » Toggle display • Reply
Jun 12

June 12, 2009 - One small step, maybe, but one giant leap

One might notice that out of an old habit, I still resist the notion of spilling my guts on the blog, probably because of a wise inherent fear of Uncle Sam’s devious tendencies.

Today, nevertheless, is a brilliant day. After nearly two years of meeting sorrow, patience, hardship, sadness, distance, isolation, hope, joy, suffering, deception, failure, success, Triumph and Disaster, and treating all those impostors just the same, Marie and I finally get our reward in the form of a stamp. Or a seal. Or a signature. Not sure which one yet, but it is grand and pompous and envied. It grants her an Unconditional Statement of Acceptance as citizen of the most powerfull (sic) nation on Earth and me the long coveted right to legally petition for an adjustment of status from pest to tolerated pet.

It is, yet again, an extraordinary date to be remembered. We’re almost there, it seems. I would say that we deserve there at least as much as some, and more than most. Love can finally be home. Comme le disait si bien mon paternel, « le temps ne respecte pas ce que l’on fait sans lui. » Tout vient donc bien à point à qui sait attendre.

So now I’ll make one heap of all my whining and risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss. I’ll throw away most of my pitiful possessions and get on a plane and a train and a cab. It’s time to start over. A new horizon awaits me. Awaits us.

Cost of the battle? Time. A helluva lot o’ money. Brain cells. One lost application file. Two missing bureaucratic photos. Could be worse.

But why is the rum gone?

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2009-06-12 07:42 • Posted in Always: 10 Comments » Toggle display • Reply
Jun 10

The window

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2009-06-10 18:24 • Posted in Photoblogs: No comments yet »  Post one!
Jun 9

Clifton, Third Beach revisited

On January 24, 2008, this beach saw the conclusion to a memorable day and the official beginning of a wonderful story. It will be revisited on a regular basis, just as we always go back to the places that became milestones in our lives.

It’s a small parcel of sand framed between high walls splattered with rich houses, as many enclaves of wealth that turn into anonymous sanctuaries when daylight wanes and candles are lit. Picnics are a ritual, here, and the beach candles not to be outdone by higher ones.

The sun sets beyond large boulders in the west and the Lion’s Head up above begins to fade through many shades of mauve. Sparkling wine then flows and tongues get tied as night moves in and the world spins into a darkness that only warms one’s heart.

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2009-06-09 19:00 • Posted in Photoblogs: & South Africa: 3 Comments » Toggle display • Reply
Jun 8

Histoire sans paroles

South Africa, January 2009
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2009-06-08 22:57 • Posted in Photoblogs: & South Africa: 3 Comments » Toggle display • Reply
Jun 7

Picking South African mussels at Misty Cliffs

This is a mere echo to Marie’s February post, as I am slowly sorting through my own South Africa pictures. Misty Cliffs at low (and fast rising) tide is a very beautiful and desolate shoreline, its yellow rocks literally covered with mussels and colorful anemones. Later we spent a while looking into tidal pools further down the coast. Oh and the mussels were very good, too, even if a few were slightly sand-crunchy... ;-)


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2009-06-07 15:47 • Posted in Photoblogs: & South Africa: 1 Comment » Toggle display • Reply
Jun 6

The truth that makes us tick

For as long as mankind has been called such, it has been blessed with many evolving gifts like curiosity, imagination, creativity and the ability to love. But more importantly, it has been plagued with two major evils, the thirst for power and a deeply rooted system of beliefs. While most people would probably argue that the former is responsible for most of the suffering we as a species have endured and still do, I propose the latter as the actual culprit. This post will be a brief adventure into the realm of human beliefs as opposed to the absolute Truth.

Yes, you read me right. I pretend to hold the answer to the universe, life and everything. No, it’s not 42. You see, mine is the only truth. I will live my life according to it and if needed, fight for it. There’s only one problem. No, in fact, there are two: first, my absolute truth changes over time; second, yours is different than mine, and they sometimes clash so strongly that sparks fly and thunder erupts. And yet you are as convinced as I am to hold the only truth there is.

So we have an issue. If our truths are subdued and open-minded in nature, we’ll tolerate each other the best we can and go about our business, feeling sorry for others who have obviously lost their way and hence greatly need to be shown the path. If our truths are more radical, though, we might end up spilling blood for them, ours and that of our opponents. And while we’re at it, unavoidably, we’ll spill the blood of innocent bystanders. No one is really innocent after all, they should know better and rally our cause.

This last paragraph contains the essence of human history; a never-ending series of wars, conquests and exterminations waged in the name of some ideal, an irresistible belief in a truth we hold as unique and almighty.

But how can so many people each have their own beliefs and each be convinced they only, have found the truth?

This question applies to an individual level but for our discussion’s sake, let’s restrict it to larger bodies like religions and political parties, for instance. You most likely belong to one of each. Everyone does, one way or another. And you most likely are willing to bet your way of life that yours are the right choices and that the other teams are completely blind and mislead. You believe this with every parcel of intelligence that glows in you. Your life is based upon the certitude that while there are so many wrong theories about the universe out there, you managed to find the only true one and are sticking to it. I know I do.

However, if we stop for a second and force ourselves into a detached and analytical state of mind, it becomes evident that this picture is hilariously flawed. Even though my core beliefs and emotions tell me that the way I think is the most logical one, it would take a gigantic ego to blind me to the fact that every person on earth feels the same about their own beliefs, thus creating an incredibly chaotic web of contradictions, incompatibilities and anger.

How can we integrate all these seemingly conflicting values, these impossibly opposite stances that have been forcing us to defend our beliefs so fiercely that the world has never know true peace? I can see only one way: by accepting once and for all that nothing is true, and nothing is real, that there are as many different universes as there are minds perceiving them; by admitting that our world is created around us by the simple fact that we observe it; by embracing the somehow scary thought that every single definition of the Truth is as valid as ours, and that none are real - not even ours.

Imagine a world where people would exchange business cards on which, below name and contact, would appear a belief. Why not? When I receive a business card from Joe Blow, I don’t feel compelled to assault him verbally because is name is not Vincent. His reality is different. He passes on some information about him to me, for reference. He is neither trying to impose his name on me nor to steal mine. The same should hold true for beliefs.

Whether one believes in Buddha, in Christ, in Brigitte Bardot, in quantum physics, in the Church of Scientology, in little green men, in the flying spaghetti monster, in the Democratic Party, in the United Nations, in eco-terrorism or in nothing at all, one is right. And one is wrong. What we believe in, we manifest and hence make it real. Every atom in our body becomes impregnated by that reality. And that’s a lot of atoms. Yet we are wrong to think of our belief as « better than ». There just cannot be only one truth.

What we really should do is seek a way to incorporate our beliefs into the global consciousness, to fit them into something bigger. Something intangible, beyond our understanding or perception, and that joins everything once and for all.

Just as quantum physics has shown some particles to exist indefinitely only in a state of probability until we actually chose to observe them, at which point they decide to become one thing or another and will remain that way as long as we are involved, so does our presence in the world define reality and our beliefs shape our own truth. We must just understand that everyone shapes up their world in different ways because they look at it through different eyes.

Now we need to accept that your god, my god and her particle accelerator are all as real, all as powerful, and all as deceiving. But only through our human experience can we ever know that. Consciousness might very well be the last frontier. Beyond it lies a sea of simplicity.

 

2009-06-06 12:57 • Posted in Schtroumpfissime: 7 Comments » Toggle display • Reply
Jun 5

The movie Home is here but YouTube won't let you embed it!

Update: The movie director’s message is simple. Yann Arthus-Bertrand says: « HOME has been made for you: share it! And act for the planet. »

Yet in its infinite wisdom, YouTube, officially hosting it for the web, has managed to make embedding the movie impossible - at least for my location. What’s up with that? Morons!

I AM pissed off!

Now I’m going to skip YouTube and wait for a theatre show or a DVD. YouTube ruined the impact. And I’ll make sure to write to Arthus-Bertrand. Any way, in case you want to still go ahead and watch it on YouTube, set the player to HD if your connection speed allows, and if it really moves, try full screen

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2009-06-05 09:36 • Posted in Web winks: No comments yet »  Post one!
Jun 4

Following the ongoing AF447 crash investigation

Update: I decided the body of this entry didn’t belong on the front page and moved it here instead (original entry). This is dark material and it is time for the blog to turn back towards the light. I am keeping the page up at its new location for two reasons:

1 - It serves as a first experiment of the Cover It Live system;

2 - I remain extremelly curious to find out what actually happened on board flight 447 and I assume others might, too. This is not morbid curiosity but the pilot in me tackling very practical considerations and wanting to know the technical facts.

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2009-06-04 12:12 • Posted in Web winks: 1 Comment » Toggle display • Reply
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