Old San Juan and Puerto Rico

I did something that I usually don’t do on our anniversary trip to Puerto Rico this year. Usually I bring a bunch of cameras, film, and bulky accessories. I carry so much that I usually bring a huge camera backpack with multiple compartments and most of the time I bring at least 2 camera bodies. It is a huge hassle in every sense of the word, from pulling the film for the TSA to inspect, to getting a sweaty back from lugging a heavy backpack.

This year I decided to just bring one camera, my favorite camera, the fuji x100v. I brought it in a tiny little go pro case with a lens hood, sd card dongle (fuji’s software is not that great), and a spare battery.

Rationale

1. My rationale was the Fuji x100v is small and light and I could use the film emulations both in camera and in Lightroom at home to make the images have that filmic look.

2. I was super happy with the camera and how light and portable it is. I love the fact that it charges via USB-C just like the iPad I always carry.

3. I love the limitations such as a fixed lens and also the jpeg emulations built right into the camera as it saves editing time.

4. While traveling it is inconspicuous, stays out the way, and more importantly my wife does not have to wait around for big lens changes, gear stowage, or large drawn out productions.

   Results:

   I used the Lightroom Kodak Portra 400 UC++ even though its a bit heavy handed.

Go slow to go faster......

I just had an idea I thought I would share after buying a new photobook by Joel Sternfeld. It’s messy.

“The faster I try to go, the slower, I get great pictures.” Take your time and slow down. Henri Cartier-Bresson said “that things made with time, time respects.” I think that this applies in so many areas but even photographic study. Here are 3 examples:

1. If I walk somewhere with my camera I get a lot of good shots but if I drive I get considerably less. Our brains process visually at the speed of walking, not of driving. SLOW DOWN.

2. Joel Sternfeld supposedly took 30 years to make his “Stranger Passing” book. I can’t get over that. How amazing is it that people today, driven by social media, think a project can be completed in 3 months. I do this to myself.

3. I shot a wedding once and shot about 1600 images in 4 hours. That is almost 7 pictures a minute. The big takeaway? I had very few keepers. Now this isn’t a strict scientific study because I had never shot a wedding before so that was also a factor. I can’t help but think that my strategy of spraying and praying was just plain fear and it forced me into a creative corner. Now fast forward to today and some of the old film cameras I am shooting for the North Country Project. I should medium format cameras which have about 8-10 images per roll. I shoot one roll per Sunday. This intentional limiting and slowing of the process has forced me to see and work so differently that I am seeing huge benefits in my seeing and also in what I don’t shoot. That is huge.

-Chris

Supernormal Stimuli

In 1969 famed biologist Nikolaas Tinbergen won the noble prize for his work on understanding animal instincts and ultimately stimuli that caused these actions. His famous experiment involved realizing that gull chicks would respond to red dots on their mothers yellow beak as a signal to open their mouths and chirp for food. He was able to run a series of experiments where he discovered that using a yellow knitting needle with 3 red dots would super charge their response, even more than say their own mother’s beak. The chicks would chirp louder and longer when presented with the yellow needle and three dots. When the mother would come back they would chirp less loud and for a shorter duration. 

This work led to the discovery of what is called Supernormal stimuli. Basically biologists found out that animal instincts could be manipulated and super charged to illicit a greater response. What was so interesting is that upon studying humans we found we could do the same thing to humans  and supercharge our responses to stimuli too. 

One popular example is the creation of Brat dolls with super huge faces and eyes that supercharges our standard draw to human faces and made the toys incredibly successful as a toy line. We see this today with apps that use filters that distort the human face, plump the lips, and increase the size of eyes or other features of the human body on sites like instagram. 

Carried over to advertising we also see this in hyper feminized or hyper masculinized images of men and women on say, television. By showing off curvy parts of the body or the “V” cut chest of a male this supercharges our normal reaction to mating and mate selection biases. 

In clothing design we see the placement company logos and slogans with certain color combinations on the seat of the pants manipulates our hardwired evolutionary biases. Think about that the next time you see something written on someones caboose.

Food and the way it is marketed is also supercharged  by playing up the fat, salt, and sugar as ingredients.  Food scientists know this manipulates our hardwired proclivity toward these ingredients in our bias as a survival mechanism. 

If you decide to look supernormal stimuli manipulation is literally everywhere. So how can you use this idea in your creative or photography work?

1. Realize that modern media and images are highly distorted to make sales and you are likely falling prey to these subconscious traps. They are everywhere.

2. Realizing that certain poses of models either play up or play down this hyper masculinity or hyper femininity and this can have drastic implications for you work and how it is received.

3. Understanding the power of the human face and how they can be manipulated is important for say portrait photographers.

4. Always be looking for supernormal stimuli and understand its effect on marketing in social media and the web.

The core

At it’s core the Tug Hill Plateau has a beating heart of heavily forested land. Estimates range from 235 to 800 square miles but there is no denying that this area is heavily wild and not very heavily populated. I can always tell when I get near the center with my truck, as the pavement ends and signs start pointing to seasonal roads.

The best way to see this striking heart is by hiking or by ATV, few roads exist in its interior.

And while it pales in comparison to the size of the Adirondack park hundreds and hundreds of miles is nothing to sneeze at. I guess what I am saying is it is ruggedly beautiful country and only a short drive from Syracuse.

Transportation

I have this crazy theory that photography is changed by the speed at which you are transported through it. Put simply if driving in a car I can only see maybe 3% of the possible pictures I would take. If I ride my bike and therefore move more slowly through the particles I can maybe bump that up to 30-40%. But it really isn’t until I walk that I see 100% of the shots I might take on any given day. My hypothesis is that photography on foot is more granular, more detailed, and more thoughtful than anything you can achieve in a car. You move slower and at a pace that can allow creativity. Driving is simply too fast to get good ideas.

This Sunday I decided to park my truck on this project and walk the little town of Ellisburg and see what I could get on foot. I started at this interesting little mechanic shop and I just loved the signage here.

Mamiya 7ii with Panoramic Adapter and Kodak Gold 200 speed film (expired)

Deaf Dog. November 2020

Limitations

Today I decided to go up to the North County to shoot some film. The only issue was I have not been “feeling” it lately. Partly I think this has to do with the changing of the seasons. Partly I think when a project starts to get less compelling that is a good sign to carry on. Whenever I get bored with my current photography project I try to give myself limitations. The limitations can be fun and also challenging forcing you to think on your feet. It often helps break up those inner negative voices as well. I decided not to bring any medium format film today but instead shoot only panoramic 35mm using expired Kodak gold 200. It’s a much cheaper stock than I typically use and I could tell by the canister it was 5-10 years old. Anyway here is some golden morning light and a longer exposure to get a bit of a streak.

Try these ideas you get bored with you current project:

Switch up the camera.

Try video instead of photo for the day.

Use a different film stock (or switch to digital, GASP)

Use a different aspect ratio (PANO!)

Only bring one lens (Bring a really tight lens if you use big wides most of the time)

Only use your phone

Try an instant camera like a fuji instax.

Movement

If you distill the fair down to its most elemental part, it is about movement. Shuttles looping, peristaltic action gulping, rides spinning, and even the stuttered movement of people through a crowd. Everyone carrying large plates of food and stopping to gawk at the next best thing and ultimately move on.

But how do you capture that movement in still photographs? How do you photograph this wave like action? For years I have tried to speed up my shutter to freeze moments in time, but today I went the other way and leaned into the movement by extending my shutter times. More to come.

Charleston

Every year we take turns planning a secret getaway for our spouse on our anniversary at the end of July. This year was my turn so I took Jen to the Carolinas because she has never been. Learn Jen’s weird thing about hotels, what we messed up, and how your uber score can hurt your self esteem! Photos and audio below:

Tyler's House

A photo essay of an abandoned roadside house we found Sunday. I had visited the house before but decided to bring Jordan so I could get a second chance with the photographs and also show him how much stuff was left.

More Visual Practice and developing a creative mantra

Sometimes framing what you’re about to do correctly, is the best way to start something creative. It’s quite difficult to get out of your head sometimes when you want to push out good work. Self-doubt almost always creeps in and can ruin your ability to create.

In my case, in photography, if I just grab the camera and go on a practice walk I tend to feel loose and free and have a much better outcome than if I go out looking for a particular perfect image. If I head out to make amazing images I tend to feel rigid and too distracted to see. I come home left with a feeling of remorse.

Last night I met up with Jordan and Jeff and we hit the streets of Syracuse for a bit of street practice. Before I got out of the truck I had that talk with myself about being loose and free and just exploring. I would take pictures of anything and everything. My pre shoot self-talk usually goes like this:

1. Take lots of pictures, digital negatives are cheap.

2. Shoot as soon as your toes hit the pavement to warm up.

3. Walk and explore but most of all be open.

4. Slow down.

5. The truly great shots happen when you’re not thinking.

So the question is, how do you defeat self doubt? How do you start your creative work, and do it consistently?

Visual Practice

I got out to shoot last night with the x100t and had just about an hour to kill so I wandered around downtown with the camera looking for reflections. I had a ton of terrible shots but its refreshing to just practice.

Do you ever give yourself a task for practice? I would love to hear what you do to get in some practice during the day.

Zen in the Art of Archery - Recommended Reading

Henri Cartier-Bresson, one of the most talented and celebrated street photographers of all time, would recommend a book voraciously to anyone he met who was interested in becoming a better photographer. He shared it often at Magnum events, and felt it was one of the best books on the subject. The only problem? It wasn't about photography, at least not directly. It was about Kyudo, the Japanese art of archery and it has many striking similarities to the practice and refinement of the art of photography. Anyway I wanted to share this graphic I made as I tried to apply it to my practice. A very influential photographer recommended it to me, so I thought I would pass on the love. Such a good book!

Zen in the Art of Archery
by Eugen Herrigel

Storyteller Series: Bruce Harvey

On Sunday Jordan and I sat down with Bruce Harvey, a large format photographer, his mission is trying to preserve culturally significant architecture around the country. We chatted for about an hour about the slow nature of his process, why the details matter, and how having limitations are an important part of the process. Enjoy!

Our First Tuesday night....

I called Jordan to ask if he wanted a big box of booze, because he’s younger and still has a functioning social life, unlike Jen and I. He laughed and said yes, and then paused and said, “Oh yeah, it’s Tuesday.”

He knows Tuesdays are a special night in the Stein household. Tuesdays in the winter in our house are called “Minimalism night.”

Now before I start this, I should warn you that we are certainly not minimalists. If you walked into my office or into our closets you certainly would know for sure we aren’t even close. We just like some of the ideas and started a few years ago trying to adopt a few of the practices. Jen calls it a work in progress.

Each Tuesday is pretty unexciting. We set a timer for an hour and go through the house picking one area a night. Tonight we focused on the basement. We spent an hour working together to get rid of clutter and take unused items to the Rescue Mission and also to clean up and get rid of things that we don’t want. Our biggest innovation is that at the end of the hour, one of us drives the load of unused things to the Rescue Mission right away so we are not tempted to let it sit for a week and then put it back.

A few things I have gleaned from these Tuesday nights:

1. Starting the process is really hard, and some nights I just don’t feel like it. But, after you get 30 minutes in you really get into it and we find we often go over our hour time limit.

2. I am amazed at the shit that we collect even when we think we are being so intentional about buying stuff. Seriously- if you add up all the dollars you waste as the stuff goes out the door you start to get sad.

3. By doing these Tuesday nights we tend to look at things more critically when we buy things. I can see in my head now a vision of me throwing that thing out on a Minimalism Tuesday, and I often will put the item back.

4. Jen has shared with me lately that shopping is a whole different experience for her. She goes in for the things she needs and leaves with only what’s on her list.

5. The big clean outs on Tuesday nights seem to make our lives more efficient in general. I find there is almost a speed increase because I am not wading through stuff, or finding ways to store and catalog it.

6. We are far from perfect at this and we still kick ourselves for bringing useless crap into our house. For example, our pantry gets cleaned out and then a month later it needs it again.

7. We may never master this idea, but it is actually kinda fun to participate in, and learn about our habits in the process.

Getting out of my own way in 2019...

For so many years I had thought that I had mastered all I could about the technical side of photography and that to go farther I just had to see new things to get more pictures, always upping the ante.

What I learned in 2018 is that I need to revisit the basics and slow down to appreciate the finer details and let those items speak for themselves. I think a good rule of thumb is when you think you have everything mastered you must know you know next to nothing. Like a cocky alarm when you reach a creative plateau, you have to know that your stuck. I made a few very large changes to my workflow this year, and actually got away from a modern process and get back to basics and wow, what a difference. Excited to unlearn some “modern” habits and get back to simplicity and focusing on the bedrock of good photography.

Interviewing Jen

I sat down and interviewed my wife tonight to practice with some new audio gear and had a nice conversation over some peppermint tea.

Boots

Listen to the story behind the photo below!

What it's like

Three years ago, Thanksgiving day, I crawled through a hole in barbed wire fence, and I haven’t been the same ever since. 

I thought about it a lot on the 3 hour drive down. 

If these places were easier to get into would I still do it? If they made that abandoned house into a museum, I bet I would come up with an excuse to not go. But here I am breathing black mold and asbestos, chasing something that no one worships, at least not anymore.

We walked back into the real world around 3:00p.m. and my legs burned. I tried to clean the mushed ceiling tile goo off my pants and shoes in the diner bathroom. I washed my hands and black rivers danced down the drain. I went with the greek plate and ate like I hadn’t seen food in years. I always liked a place that went in heavy with Feta. 

I finished and kicked my leg out of the booth and sat sideways as I watched Jordan relish in his French dip. That food could have been dog shit or delicacy but we couldn’t tell because of the soft fuzziness of the afterglow. I looked around and kept trying to readjust my eyes, my brain in some deep processing loop. I feel drunk.

We had walked for 7 hours straight, up and down dilapidated towers, and across a sleeping giant. In and out, up and down. I had never even seen a squash court up close, let alone a marble penthouse bathroom, but I did today. 

Flash light, shutter click. Flash light. Next room.

“Wait, be quiet.” I held my finger straight up and swirled it when I knew it was time to vacate, not making a sound. We left quickly, and quietly.

“Nevermind, it’s an animal.”

After awhile your visual sense shuts down. You just shutter click and go through the motions. You hope all that practice just becomes muscle memory. Can photography even be that, you wonder?

When you lay down at night you absorb into the mattress, you fall halfway down. Like a marshmallow soft after a campfire. Your body rings like an ear does with tinnitus, except this is the universe calling out.

Your alarm goes off, piercing the darkness in some nondescript hotel. 

And you do it again.

Below are a few of the images from our last big urbex outing!

Story behind the photo: "Light at the End of the Tunnel”

6. Story behind the photo: "Light at the End of the Tunnel” Great pictures never happen when you expect it, rarely when you need them, and never, ever, when you are desperate for success. Brad and I had parked and walked into Beaver Lake on a brisk fall Saturday.  I got out of the truck, packed in my gear, and grabbed my tripod. The lesson that day- at least what I had planned- was using tripods, fall foliage, and using macro lenses. At least that is what I wanted to teach him. I, of course, would learn a different lesson altogether. Photography, like a lot of other disciplines, can’t be pushed from within you. You simply can’t force out good work. There has to be a flow to it. That flow starts in your mind in a way that is hard to summarize in writing because it comes from the part of the brain that is non-verbal. My secret weapon that day was not tripods, filters, or specialized gear. It could not be packed in my bag. It was in my mind and in my heart. I have found through tons of photo outings that if my mind is in the wrong place, I miss the great pictures or they simply don’t appear to me. I am almost positive it is because, when I’m not in the right mindset, I can’t see what is beautiful. That day, early before our meeting, I got up just like I always do, went downstairs and walked over to the microwave and set the timer for 20 minutes. I walked over in the darkness and sat in my favorite chair, red pillow tucked behind my head as it is countless times. I leaned my head back, got comfortable, and tried to clear my mind. I focused on my breath, the area just below my nose and just above my lip. Deep and clear I pulled in air, holding it in and slowing my breath. Clearing my mind is tough for me; I am constantly strategizing, constantly worrying, always thinking about what’s next. This fog is the kiss of death for something creative like photography. At first I struggled to think of nothing, to let my mind sit empty. After a few minutes it cleared. I reached a point between my thoughts, where true calm exists. I sat for twenty minutes until the timer broke the silence. I came out of my self induced trance and my body felt numb, but very relaxed. I was happy, confident, and aware. On the days I clear my mind, I always have great success making photos. We walked to our first spot and my open mind gave me this shot, the trees, the colors, the lines. I saw the light at the end of the tunnel, maybe because it was supposed to be, or maybe because I could see it clearly- either way, I was glad I got that lesson.

Abandoned Artist's Studio

I guess I’m not sure where to start. I guess I’ll start with our fixer, “J.”

I reached out to “J” over instagram for a cool little find he had posted. From the images and videos he shared it looked to be an abandoned artists studio perched above a river. From the artifacts I saw in the video I knew two things. One it was pretty much untouched, and two it would not stay that way for long. If Jordan and I wanted to preserve anything we had to do it before kids tore that place apart.

Jordan and I got up super early Saturday morning and drove the 90 minutes to pick up J. Of course Jordan and I were chatting so I missed the exit. We picked up J a bit late but headed right to the location. We scrambled through a scary looking basement and climbed up a set of metal ladders with a bit of an acrobatic move.

What we found was an abandoned hydro-electric station on the river turned art studio by a truly remarkable man. He was a pilot, architect, art Professor, color theorist, and hammer collector. His paintings are on display at MoMa. He designed and built a synagogue and a home. He also flew over Nagasaki days after the bomb dropped and survived in the ocean with his crew for 6 days on a raft.

I could go on and on about the good things, but this man also had tragedy in his life. He lost his daughter at age 29 from a freak accident after the car she was driving hit a horse that escaped its pen. He outlived his wife and most of the others he knew. He lived till the ripe old age of 96.

I am still in awe.

I found lots of books about Bresson and Brassai in his studio so I processed these images dark and mostly in black and white as I think the late professor would have liked.It seemed fitting. Click on the images below to see them larger.