Black and White

When I studied photography as an undergraduate student, I naturally gravitated toward black and white. What else could a young fan of heavy metal possibly like? 

Then I discovered color, and everything changed. I remember the excitement of buying expensive, tungsten-balanced film for ten dollars per roll in order to shoot muted indoor scenes, and spending an hour just balancing the CMY(K) of a single photograph in the dark room. But the result was worth it!

Yet, some of my current DSLR work is naturally suited for black and white. Things come full circle.

Like this:

Smears and Tears

Walking past what I'd call nature's black metal—rain creating smears on a a statue's face—I couldn't help but snap a photo. Unfortunately, I only had my phone with me, but that's nothing that a little duotone and halftone filters couldn't help!

The Corvid and the Tree

Does anyone know what time it is?

That's right: it's time to post another beautiful corvid—this one being from Ueno park—made all the more striking in black-and-white silhouette form.

If this specimen were featured in Aesop's fable, it would outsmart the fox!

It's Happening Again?

I have an intricate Nutcracker music box in the shape of a faux Fabergé egg that was given to me as a gift. It sits on a book shelf, I haven't touched it in months, and no one's wound it in that time frame.

Tonight, as I was working on a series of graphics for a book, I was startled by the fact that this music box just went off by itself, playing the Nutcracker theme. Then it happened again a few minutes later.

The entire atmosphere felt a little like this:

Portrait of a City

Sometimes, you have an idea for a photoshoot, but the City (teamed up with Mother Nature) decides to laugh at your expense (a bit...a lot!). In this particular case, Tokyo chose to engage in some serious "spitting." 

And so you adjust the sails and follow the wind, which led us to the seedy side of Shinjuku (it's a trick: most of Shinjuku is delightfully unsavory!), where my stoic friend had to engage in what I'd call "extreme modelling." (It got more extreme with the other images, as Nature's mockery escalated.)

As you can tell, she handled it in a superb way.

Of course, the non-stop rain turned out to be a blessing in disguise, because the end result—this and the others (forthcoming)—is totally worth it. 

Am I allowed to say that I love my own photograph? It's gritty and slick at the same time. Natural and posed. 

The best part? Definitely the shoe laces!

Now, I'm just trying to refrain from calling these nascent series something terrible like "Shinjuku Vice."