Recent Work
These shots were meant to be material that I would later edit and abstract beyond recognition in The Neo-Suburban Memory and not as standalone photographs. But I thought it would be a shame to end 2020 without posting them since they fit well into my recent trend of nature/noise photography. Neo constitutes my final exhibition at San Jose State (coming soon in March), and I was exploring suburban iconography within the context of family and memory.
I spent the final days in Portland with my parents where I frequently visited my sister and her family. As has become tradition with my visits, I took a stroll down to the local pond with my nephews, who have also taken an interest in photography. I mostly focused on the diverse birdlife with a particular interest in a flock or "raft" of American Wigeons.
I made a choice to edit in a warmer temperature to reflect the late afternoon setting. I often avoid warmer tones because they tend to make the colors appear too saturated. They also provide less contrast than cooler tones. But on occasion, a warmer palette is preferable when I'm inclined to depict an inviting and contemplative atmosphere. I unironically enjoy overly sentimental art, and something about families of ducks gently gliding on the reflective surfaces of a pond puts me in a sentimental mood. In this particular instance, the warmer tones transform the dull brown water into gold.
I've learned to be more strategic with reflective water and shore birds like ducks and seagulls. If you compare different photographs in this collection, the first set is located in the shadows of massive trees, which give the water a dark, foreboding blanket of black, while the latter shots open up to the deep blue late afternoon sky. The angle also matters since you can catch beautiful bright highlights in the ripples, which look especially great contrasted against dark water.
Unfortunately, the distance I was shooting at meant that I couldn't capture the commotion of these flocks as vividly and detailed as I might have liked. I close this section with "tapestries" that are cropped wider. I imagine that in an exhibit these photographs would stretch to each end of a wall, and like an elaborate classical painting, you would be able to get up close and observe each duck in their own personality.
After Haystack Rock, Ted and Kara set aside an afternoon with me to visit Lake Trillium up near Mount Hood. At this time of year, the lake was completely frozen and the ice thick enough to walk on without any issue. Unfortunately, we didn't anticipate that the road leading up to the immediate campsite would be blocked off, and we ended hiking what felt like half an hour in each direction to and from the lake. The path itself was beautiful and we were dressed to endure the cold, but we nevertheless drove home cold, tired, aching, and hungry.
The lake and mountain itself was a surreal view, and being able to walk from one side to the other made it feel oddly small. Ted practiced his Wim Hof breathing method and I observed the strange flower patterns in the ice. The falling snow stuck on the surface like gravel and gave it enough traction that there was no issue with sliding.
This time around, I wanted to accentuate the blue snow in editing. I enjoyed using the low quality of noise to mirror old nature photography from the 1960s and 70s when color was relegated to documentary and educational work. These are the kinds of photos you might find in a high school biology textbook. I wanted strong contrast and bright saturation to bring color in an otherwise monochrome environment. This will likely become the running theme of my photographs going into 2021.
