Bite Me

To be honest, the studio cat and I collaborated on this photograph. He killed this insect, presented it to me... and I shot it. I have an old microscope objective that can be used for macro photography and that is how I got so close. The really amazing thing about this creature, to me anyway, is the colors. These are straight out of the camera.

Lemonade & Lemons

A few months ago, I heard someone mention the technique of aperture stacking, in which a series of images taken over a range of apertures is stacked together in software in order to improve depth-of-field in a composite photograph. In other words, an alternative to focus stacking for when your lens changes magnification as you shift the focus. Well, the aperture stacking thang didn't do nuttin' for me in this particular scenario. In fact, a single image seemed to work just fine, thankee very much. I'll keep looking.

The Importance of Optics

The other day I found an old close up filter laying on a shelf in the studio, so I placed it on one of my lenses and grabbed a few high magnification frames of the hydrangeas in our garden. I like the pastel color and overall softness of the rendering. This experience reminded me of how I use a camera and lens to interact with the world around me. 

Shades of Silver Oxide

A few months ago I made a batch of photographic emulsion and had some silver nitrate left over. Why waste it? So I played around with it a little bit and ended up doing an informal material study, using my digital camera to capture the action. 

 

But Beautiful

I was taking a series of macro shots of flowers for a project a couple of years ago when I came across this half dead petal. Of course, it needed to be removed from the subject flower. But after my standard shots were in the bag, I made sure to grab a few images of this little gem just for me. It was just remarkable how it was in this transition state from alive to dead, but beautiful in both states.  

 

Getting Out of the Math

In the world of photography, what could be more technically demanding than macro/micro imaging? I know, I know. It's just an example. When shooting at greater than life size, the technical issues a photographer must grapple with just keep piling up. Vibrations, focus, depth of field, sufficient light. At first, getting an image where at least *something* in the frame is in focus can be tough. The point is, it can be a real challenge to make lyrical or artful images when your mind is consumed with overcoming technical hurdles. I heard a podcast where two jazz musicians were talking about how to craft melodic improvised solos without getting too bogged down by the technical side of things. They called it getting out of the math. So, how do you get out of the math?

Tasting notes: Canon digital camera, Canon MP-E 65 mm f/2.8 lens at 5x.

Super Slow Nature Photography with a 60 Year Old Film Camera

When I first saw this negative, I was just a little disappointed that part of the mantis was slightly out of focus due to the shallow depth of field on medium format film. On the other hand, I was also pretty pleased with the image, considering I was hand holding a sixty year old Rolleiflex SL66 to get the shot. Luckily, I had a modern digital camera at hand to capture a tack sharp image of the scene. At the end of the day, though, the film image was my favorite photograph. You just can't beat the pentagonal bokeh of the old Rollei lenses.

Tasting notes: Rolleiflex SL66, Zeiss 120 mm f/5.6 S-Planar lens, Tri-X. 

Good Genes

I don't often get my hands on fresh fractal food, so when a gorgeous Romanesco makes its way to my fridge, the sequence of events is always shoot, cook, eat. According to the most recent research, the Romanesco arises from the interaction of genetics and mathematics, so to speak. A number of plant species are known to develop as spirals (dahlias, for example). Even a conventional cauliflower has spirals of florets. If certain gene mutations occur during flower formation, however, the Romanesco cauliflower is the result. Yum.

Tasting notes: Canon digital camera. See: " Cauliflower fractal forms arise from perturbations of floral gene network". Science. 373 (6551): 192–197, 2021.

Illuminate or obfuscate?

I am not a classical 'macro guy', and have no burning desire to make technical images of flora, fauna, or the material world (although I have done). I think that observing our surroundings at different scales can be rewarding as well as fascinating, and, if I'm honest, I really would like to develop a body of work based on close-up images. I just haven't figured out an artful way of doing so yet. I snagged this magnolia leaf on a recent walk and made several photographs of it before adding it to my constantly growing pile of dead things. I recently purchased a lens with 2x macro magnification and enjoyed using it to find local compositions within the greater landscape of the leaf. To me this looked like an aerial image of suburbia. 

Pre- or post-apocalypse, that's the viewer's choice.

Too perfect?

 

I grew up believing that there were two categories of leaf, alive and dead. But then, a few months ago I found out about skeleton leaves. Somehow, the algorithm used by an online shopping service determined that I might be interested, and, just like that, a packet of etched and dried leaves was recommended to me for purchase. I guess deep down I'm pretty shallow, because, in fact, the algorithm was right -- I thought they might indeed be interesting to photograph. In the end, though, they were not that engaging as subjects and I soon lost interest. Just the other day, I was walking, as is my habit, and noticed a magnolia leaf on the sidewalk that appeared to be almost the same color as cement. Upon closer inspection, I realized it was a skeleton. The naturally occurring version is far less perfect than the ones you buy online, with stains, dirt and other flaws. I'm not sure what caused the circular mark on this skeleton, but to me it is the most interesting feature of the leaf.

I hope you have good light this weekend.