The Series: Windows

Windows let the sun shine in, they keep the elements out; that first spring day that warrants throwing them open to the warmer weather is a wonderful and much-anticipated moment. 

They also allow us to take a glimpse into the lives of those around us, sometimes by invitation in the case of a storefront, others by circumstance as we walk through our own neighborhood.  A boarded window almost instinctively signifies that something is wrong: it triggers thoughts of abandonment, disrepair, and even disaster.

There is a semi-ubiquitous poster in this area of The Doors of Chapel Hill - but I prefer the windows, especially those on the UNC-Chapel Hill campus.   

Fall

 

I credit the Playmakers Theatre building with starting the trend.  While taking fall shots, I stopped on the traffic circle in front of the building to capture the reflection of the nearby oak.  This window has now become a seasonal series, with corresponding spring and winter shots tracing the change in foliage as the calendar marches on.


The side windows of the building offer new perspectives, from the reflections of neighboring magnolias to the inherent framing in catching windows that look on to other windows.

Elsewhere on campus, other windows beckon, from Wilson Library to the Physical Science Complex. 




The foundation, then, was laid when I traveled to New York City, where the Solow Building on 57th provided one of my favorite shots:

Reflections in facade of Solow Building

The Sites: Madrid

When I finally made the switch from film to digital, I had a great opportunity to test it out on the road: two weeks in Madrid.  Although I was there for business, my colleagues and I managed to squeeze out some time for sight-seeing in the evenings and over the weekend.  


On one of our first evenings, we ventured to Plaza Mayor after dinner.  It was late (late by American standards, anyway) and it was raining, so we had the imposing space mostly to ourselves.  Light bounced across the wet cobblestones, giving the space an almost ethereal quality. 




The shops lining the first floor of the arcades were mostly closed, though one remained open, its walls lined with pictures of bull fighters, with more than a few heads of the unlucky creatures keeping watch over the patrons.


That weekend, I returned to Plaza Mayor during the day.  It was bright, warm, and sunny; the quiet square had transformed into a throng of tour groups bumping against each other in their respective attempts to navigate the space. 

By the time the weekend arrived, a colleague and I were in desperate need of a natural escape from the city landscape.  We made our way to Retiro Park, where she jogged along the trails while I meandered through the garden paths.  The park's variety of horticulture was massive, including a Victorian sculpture garden, and the waterfowl that settled along the backs of the ponds and streams were just as mixed. 

Madrid boasts several museums that house some of the world's most renowned collections and works of art.  The Prado and the Reina Sofia top the list and one could easily spend an entire trip browsing their galleries. 

But the food. Oh, the food.  From seafood to pork to cheese to more types of sausage than I'd ever seen, the food is what I remember most from this trip.  Competing gazpachos, suckling pig, Galatian seafood, paella, and tapas graced our tables with flavor combinations I could only hope to replicate in my own kitchen.  I like to debate the question of "cow or pig" with friends; for me, it depends on where I am, but in Spain, it is the pig that reins supreme.

This was my first time in the country and I was hooked: the food, the architecture, the people, and the culture had the same allure I felt when I traveled to Russia for the first time.  I could easily spend weeks and months here, traveling to the various regions to experience their cultures, languages, and cuisines - and, of course, attempting to capture it through my lens.

The Shot: Street Market

Of so many things I will remember from my first trip to New York City, the food is by far at the top of the list.

As the crossroads of the world, some polls estimate that nearly 170 languages are spoken in the city.  Those that speak those languages bring their cultures and with their cultures comes their food.

Within the first two years of moving to North Carolina, I'd tried more new styles of cuisine than I had in my entire life.  Singaporean, Vietnamese, Ethiopian, Persian, Thai: I count myself lucky to live in such a vibrant area with so many culinary options.

And then I went to New York.  I thought I knew what to expect.  I was blown away.

I got off the plane at LaGuardia, took a cab to my friend's apartment, and we promptly set out for dinner, which was Argentine-Turkish fusion.  This set the bar high, but nothing failed to exceed expectations.

Grilled cheese; John's Diner

While I relish and appreciate a wonderful, family-run restaurant where tradition is as much an ingredient as meat, herbs or spices, I'm an absolute sucker for groceries and markets.  We wandered in and out of the grocers and fish markets of Chinatown.  After marveling at the architecture of Grand Central Station, we proceeded to the station market, where the colors of the fruits, vegetables, salads, deli counter, and bakery selections mingled with a myriad of smells that made for an intoxicating cocktail of sensory overload.  Lunch was a simple yet perfectly fresh round of grilled cheese sandwiches at a deli in midtown.

Coffee, Zabar's window

I consider it stupid luck that we didn't make it to Zabar's gourmet market before the last night of my trip (and with only 20 minutes before closing), as I could have easily gone there every day and still not satisfied my curiosity - the cheese case alone could have occupied me for an entire afternoon. 


Even just wandering back down Broadway, the neighborhood markets beckoned with their colors and smells.  For me, this shot captures all of the sights, smells, tastes, textures, and memories of that trip:

Market on Broadway

The Tips: Embrace a Sense of Humor

It is easy to zero in on the artistic with your work -- seeking out that perfect angle, that perfect composition, that perfect combination of colors, that perfect something that will become The Shot that will rival the great masterpieces of art.

But there's also something to be said for capturing the whimsy and humor in the everyday. 


I often debate with a writer friend about whether writing fiction or non-fiction is more fulfilling.  She argues that life has too many loose ends, so fiction enables us to control the story, tying them up neatly and achieving resolution that gives us a certain catharsis and satisfaction.  I argue that the loose ends and lack of resolution are what makes non-fiction so interesting -- also, I've discovered over the years that the quirk of life provides so much more material than anything I'd be able to create out of my own imagination.


The same can be said for photography.  Just as we stumble into great stories, we often stumble into great pictures.  Some of those unsought finds capture the absurdity of life in ways we couldn't have planned and we simply have to stop and take a moment to laugh at them:

Okefenokee Swamp Park; Waycross, GA

This remains of my favorite shots, not for its artistry (it doesn't really have much) or for its great lighting or color (it doesn't necessarily have those, either), but for the sheer luck in its composition.  My only regret is that I missed the corresponding shot of a group of tourists walking up to another gator sunning itself on the bank of the pond, which easily could have been titled "Hey, Y'all, Watch This!"


It's the row of cars parked along a pedestrian walkway signed "No Vehicular Entry."  It's the man taking a cigarette break next to an industrial propane tank blazed with "Flammable" signs.  It's that scene that makes you stop, look, and think.  And then you chuckle or laugh outright.