Cape Blanco Lighthouse stands on a piece of land that juts out into the Pacific Ocean one half of a mile, making it the western most lighthouse in Oregon. Erected in 1870, it is the oldest continually operated lighthouse in the state as well. In order to save money in construction cost, two kilns were erected on site to provide the bricks needed for the lighthouse and other structures.
The stairway up the lighthouse tower circles within a brick structure
The narrow, winding staircase mimics the logarithmic spiral of the golden rectangle when viewed from above. How could I not capture a perfect composition with these elements laid out before me?
The fresnel lens at the Cape Blanco Lighthouse is one of the largest and oldest in the nation. It magnifies a small light so that it can be seen up to 23 miles offshore.
The crown jewel of this lighthouse is not the structure itself, but rather the Fresnel lens it houses. Standing about six feet tall, the rotating lens encircles a small electric light. Before electricity was installed in the light house, this service was provided by a simple candle. Due to the lens’ magnifying power, the light can be seen up to 23 miles off shore.
Cape Blanco Lighthouse stands on a point that juts out a half mile into the ocean. Its light can be seen up to 23 miles out to sea.
Two weeks ago I was challenged by friend and photographer Jerry Dodrill to post 5 black and white photographs on social media over 5 consecutive days. As I am not known for shooting much black and white, I dug back into my archives to see what I had. From that selection, I chose five photos from a variety of subject matter (landscape, wildlife, and architecture) that spoke to me more as fine art than editorial photos. Here is my selection collected together, along with a short synopsis of each.
Day One
Dawn breaks over Banner Peak and Thousand Island Lake, Ansel Adams Wilderness
I shot this last year on my attempt at the John Muir Trail. Thousand Island Lake is a beautiful location in the heart of the Ansel Adams Wilderness. This was a dark, moody, stormy morning, and during a brief pause in the torrential downpour, I braved the elements and scrambled out of my tent to capture Banner Peak with the lake below. In order to convey my feelings at the time I shot it, it seemed like a perfect candidate for a B&W conversion.
Day Two
Death Valley’s Mesquite Dunes are a study of form and lines
This shot is of the Mesquite Dunes outside of Stovepipe Wells in Death Valley National Park. I shot this fairly wide (21mm) as I was standing on the foreground dune. Those who have photographed a lot of sand know that you can’t just back up to reshoot – you’ll end up with a photo full of footprints! Black and white allowed me to add contrast into the sand ripples along the crest of the dune.
Day Three
Four american white pelicans line up, all of them fishing at the same time. There was a nice symmetry to this image, which was calling very strongly to be rendered as a black and white fine art photograph.
With this photo, I’m switching focus to birds (hey, birds can make great B&W too!) I was shooting a group of American White Pelicans and was waiting for that perfect, synergistic moment. Finally they all ducked down for fish at the same time (the white pelicans tend to be much lazier when eating as compared to the California Browns who are constantly dive bombing their food). I caught the moment and new it would make a nice pano crop – a conversion to a high-key black and white was icing on the cake.
Day Four
Church and cemetery, Great Smoky Mountains National Park
This image is a little different from my usual fare. Quite a few years ago, a friend and I were hiking through the woods of Great Smokey Mountain National Park. It was a still, crisp November day, and we were utterly alone with the trees. Throughout the day, we had been getting a very creepy vibe. Unlike the wilderness of the west, these forests are littered with remnants of past civilizations – small mountain villages linked to other settlements only via walking paths. It almost felt like the ghosts of the past were watching our progress through their woods. Suddenly our trail opened up into a clearing with an old church, complete with cemetery and 100+ year old headstones. When I took this photograph, I knew I wanted to try to convey that feeling that we’d been getting all day. A black and white, high contrast conversion was in order.
Day Five
Soft light across the dunes adds a milky texture to the wind carved lines, Death Valley National Park
My final shot is another B&W dune photo from Death Valley. This time I kept the contrast and the clarity low, to emphasize the soft buttery texture of twilight. What first attracted me to this spot was the three tall dunes in the background. I think they reminded me of pyramids off in the distance. I set about looking for a foreground. When I found layer upon layer of sand “waves” stacked up in front of the dunes, I knew I had my shot. I fell in love with the way the light moved across the sand like it was a living thing. In order to remove all other distractions from the photo, I subtracted all color and let the interplay between the shadows and highlights define the photograph.
In the late 1800s, the Yankee Girl mine was one of the most profitable mines in the history of silver mining in the United States. At its height, Yankee Girl produced 10 tons of ore on a daily basis.
Last month, I took a great trip out to Colorado to shoot fall colors in the Rockies with some friends. One of my favorite locations to visit (we went back several times because the area had so much to offer) was the Yankee Girl Silver Mine, south of the town of Ouray. Nestled in the San Juan Mountains, Yankee Girl was operational until the early 1900s. In the late 1800s, the mine was one of the most profitable mines in the history of silver mining in the United States. At its height, Yankee Girl produced 10 tons of ore on a daily basis, some of which was carted out by 75 mules every day.
Silver ore was carted out by 75 mules every day. Here the old mine is front lit with dramatic dark skies beyond.
A dirt road winds up into the mining area from the highway, which is comprised of several sites, all of which are in various stages of decay. While these abandoned buildings are interesting enough to explore and photograph, being surrounded by intense fall color foliage added an extra layer of interest to the photos.
There remain many small details of interest scattered about this area.
When covering an area photographically, it is important to look at a subject from many angles and to incorporate elements that help the viewer understand what the scene was like. Here I used old weathered boards to lead the viewer’s eye up into the frame, showcasing the main building. I’m sure if I spent an afternoon roaming the hill on which the mine buildings were perches, I could find many more such elements (old rusted pipes, mined rocks, etc) to incorporate into interesting compositions.
One of the smaller mine structures of the Yankee Girl Silver Mine sits perched over a valley of colorful fall aspen, Ouray, Colorado
Here is one of the smaller buildings in the mining complex. While not as attractive as the main building, it was perched on the edge of a hill with a magnificent color display on the opposite slope. I stitched multiple frames together to create a large resolution panorama.
Stay tuned for more posts based on photos from this trip.
The sun sets on the Crown Point Vista House, overlooking the Columbia River Gorge, Oregon. Canon 24-70mm f/2.8L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 100. Evaluative metering -1/3: .4 sec. at f/16.
Last weekend I was up in Oregon visiting my parents. One of the enjoyable aspects of visiting the area in which I grew up is some of the fantastic photographic opportunities there. Growing up at the mouth of the Columbia River Gorge, it was easy to take some of the remarkable scenery for granted. But living elsewhere and visiting this area helps me put fresh eyes on a familiar landscape.
This photograph features the famous Crown Point Vista House standing sentinel atop its cliff, overlooking the Columbia River. It is an over-photographed image, but one I love coming back to in different conditions. Here I only wished for a more dynamic sky, but as is always true in landscape photography, you get what nature gives you.
