Good Morning, It Was Only A Dream

December 27, 2021

I awoke from the night of Someone You Love in a similar mood of reflection. Just as I felt myself reverting to the episodic nightmares of my childhood, so too did I once again experience the warmth of entering the waking world in the comfort of my parents' shelter.

My mother stood in the kitchen and selected the silverware for breakfast as I eagerly stepped out onto the back porch, neglecting to put my shoes on. The evening snow was rapidly melting with the morning sun and I felt a strong and incontestable compulsion to photograph the same scene I had the night before.

It was a compelling contrast to have Someone You Love and Good Morning act as parallel photo series in this backyard. It was only appropriate that at my parent's house, as I regained the sentiments of my childhood, I felt a Romantic urge inside of me to photograph as I did when I was younger. And with the sun low on the horizon and the snow still fresh, I thought back to the painting that hung in my living room as a child.

Someone You Love

December 26 - 27, 2021

This particular collection took place the day following Christmas. I once again spent the holidays with my family in Oregon, and we were graced with a blanket of snow which drifted in quietly following Christmas Day. I slept the night of its arrival at my parent's house, lulled back into a state of childhood. As they retired for bed, I wandered the hallways, transitioning between the warmly lit living room decorated with the Christmas tree and occupied by Lucy who slept uneasily on the couch, one-eye cocked open, following me, and the dark corners of back room, whose windows opened out onto the backyard and in the dark gaze of the twisting branches and the soft sheets of snow. The white of this powder dimly illuminated the world as the city lights diffused themselves onto the overcast sky and scattered a dull brown-orange hue. I was once again reminded of "The Forest in Winter at Sunset" by Theodore Rousseau.

At that point and still now, I was plagued with nightmares the frequency of which I hadn't experienced since childhood. I have several theories as to why this occurred and I could perhaps spiral into a long-winded tangent with a few notable examples, but regardless, the resurgence of these dreams stirred in me a desire to express them through photography. I had a larger concept that I was developing, and this particular night made clear a few strange parallel moods.

I felt the warmth and security of living with my parents, and the subsequent feeling of dependency, a surrender of responsibility I had once accepted as a child. As I moved between the small spaces of comfort and the unlit fringes of the house, I remembered the intense fear of my childhood and of my early nightmares and how closely, paradoxically these two states of being stood together.

I sat on the carpet floor and stared vacantly up and out through the window and onto the dark hanging branches that tore through the dull brown expanse of the sky. Within these photographs, I resisted the urge to bring up the exposure and reveal the contents of each scene. It was antithetical to my style of editing, but necessary to articulate the dim snow against the dark corners of the frame, and the strain on one's eyes as they attempted to visually conquer the photograph.

Each photograph is titled after a phrase heard in a dream or perhaps mumbled by a sleeping loved one; a phrase that manages to penetrate the wall of the mind and escape the lips into reality. As the expanding dread in each image increases, the phrases become deep breathes followed by silent screams; meaningless remarks that nevertheless produce terror because what follows them is all the more terrifying.

Dead Engine Concert

Invoice 005 - Dead Engine, Brick and Mortar Music Hall Concert (December 12, 2021)

I was introduced to Dead Engine's drummer at a party through his girlfriend, a close friend of mine from work. The band had recently ditched their last photographer and were looking for someone to shoot them for an upcoming concert. I immediately leapt at the offer, not so much out of confidence but a forced habit to accept any financial opportunity. I had no experience with concert photography and given what sliver of a comfort zone I occupied, I was immediately terrified, so much so that I nearly offered to shoot the event for free. Their drummer was kind enough to refuse and I wound up actually earning more than my fees would dictate.

The second phase of the assignment was the concert, which I awaited with dread. Dead Engine would be performing at the Brick and Mortar Music Hall in San Francisco, which was roughly an hour away. I nearly abandoned the assignment out of stress when I spent over 30 minutes circling around the same four blocks trying to find safe parking after dark. Luckily, the band wasn't up first and I had more time than I realized to settle in.

Once I could relax, I surprised myself with how confidently I sprung into action. Despite my shyness, the separation of audience and performers on stage was enough to ease the pressure. At that point, I felt more aware of how I composed myself in front of the concert-goers given it was a smaller crowd.

The venue provided enough moody lighting to make the shots interesting, and their spotlights were bright enough to make exposure easy. I continued to struggle with the Sony a7iii, in this case with its automatic focus, which was not intuitive to me. I also noticed later in the editing stages that my framing was significantly off-balanced, perhaps because I wasn't properly looking into the viewfinder.

I had watched several tutorials on concert photography and the consensus was to prioritize shooting the venue as a whole as much as the artists themselves. I had to make a last minute decision against that because the crowd was very small. Since the point of wide crowd shots was to express enthusiasm and a large turnout for an event, I thought it would be insulting to Dead Engine to photograph their lack of the latter. I instead focused tightly on the band, hoping the quality of my shots and the aesthetic of the lighting would create the illusion of a grand concert.

As far as the quality of the performance, the band was very expressive and it was no strain to get dynamic poses. I nearly had to keep up with their showmanship, especially with Matt, their bassist. I was constantly regulating how many shots I was getting of each member as well as group shots. By the end, I had almost 400 photographs, which I narrowed down to around 100.

Editing was a long process as a result. I mostly increased the contrast, tightened the framing, and emphasized the colors already present on stage (green was my favorite). I was particularly happy with how the colored lights reflected off of the cymbals of the drum kit.

Dead Engine was more than happy with the results. As I said, they weren't very confrontational with criticism so whatever qualms they might have had, I'll never know, but I got the impression they loved my concert work more than the photoshoot.

I was pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed concert photography. As a financial avenue, it isn't very high-paying or stable, but neither is most freelance photo work starting out. And I enjoyed having a commission that combined my love of music and photography. I spoke with another band after the show, and they expressed interest in hiring me for an upcoming tour. That opportunity passed without much response on their part, but it got me excited thinking about the chances to network in something I was more engaged with and invested in than food or real-estate.