Street Photography from a Dog's Perspective

September started with festive weeks in Baltimore. Tall ships came to the harbor from different oceans and the streets filled a million visitors for music, foods of the world, and fireworks at night. It is the Centennial Celebration week of the Star s Spangled Banner, remembering the victory of the Battle of Baltimore, when the British failed in their attack on Fort McHenry in 1814, and Francis Scott Key wrote “The Star-Spangled Banner”.  With all these people everywhere, I was certain that I will have a grand time with my camera.

But I did not. Somehow I was unable to find interesting people in a million-strong crowd! They all seemed to just walk, incessantly take pictures with their digital gizmos, and do nothing unusual! After walking in the crowd for a couple of hours, I decided that it was not my day for pictures.

On the way back, I saw a dog and his friend sitting on a 4 meter tall wall at the board of the ocean waters. Perhaps they had also given up walking in that ocean of people. Instinctively I took a picture. Then I realized that the dog was at a higher elevation than I was looking down at me. And a thought crossed my mind: 

 How does the world look to this dog when he is on the ground walking among a million people? That makes for two million legs!  What does he see? Clearly not the faces of people. How does he interpret all these feet and legs he walks through?

Aha! I had a theme now—I planned to go out the next day and take pictures of peoples’ legs. It would be a dog’s perspective. And I wondered:  if I can train my dog to use a camera, what will be in his frames?

That idea made me smile, almost laugh. What a couple we would make if my dog and I hang a 1948 Rolleiflex from our necks and go out to take pictures!

… The next day was rainy but warm. I covered my camera under a small umbrella and went out to discover a dog’s perspective in street photography.

For starters, I needed a small crowd. I looked around for a while to realize how boring it is to look at peoples’ legs and feet. Sure, aesthetically some legs are more attractive than others, but in the street, everyone seemed to stand in a most boring way. So I decided to start with such a picture. 

What would a dog think about such a crowd? Maybe a smaller group will be more interesting? I was totally shocked to realize that if I point my lens to legs in a group, they all seem so banal, so pedestrian! Clearly, I did not have the appreciation of a dog’s perspective and I needed to first see the faces of these people.

Ok, what about a depth of field challenge? If a single person is the focus point, does that give the dog a different perspective? Do dogs have a selective focusing capability like my 1970 Nikkor 105 mm lens? Or do they see everything equally focused? 

And then, I caught that second all of us hope to capture when holding a camera: the man in this couple lifted a leg! Ha, I was laughing when I clicked hoping that later on when I develop the film, I will be rewarded with the intended shot. And I was. “Now”, I said to myself “a dog will fully understand what this man is about to do!” 

Finally, I needed a dog picture to bring things to a normal perspective and routine. But not just a picture of a dog, rather a dog next to legs. And I found it. 

… Silly project? Perhaps. But I have to admit that I had more laughs with this excursion into a million people-strong crowds than I had in previous projects. And, I learned that at the level of a dog’s eyes, human legs are boring!

September 13, 2014

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2014

From Beirut 40 Years Later

Recently, I have been going through my mother’s boxes.  It took me a few years to be ready for this inquiry.

I already wrote about the Ottoman era pocket watch made by Armenian watchmakers I found in one of her boxes (http://vahezen.blogspot.com/2014/07/ottoman-times-armenian-timemakers.html). Today I will share a photo, with a history.

… To my surprise, in a shoebox (Hachim Shoes, a well known Lebanese shoe maker) I found rolled 35mm negatives, 127 film strips, and even large format cut-negatives from the 1940s. Large format? Who in the family used such expensive cameras in those days of war, immigration and struggle in Lebanon? I took the box to my darkroom equipped with 1950s enlargers, loops, trays and memorabilia from my previous darkrooms. I spent days looking at these negatives under the loop and wondering who all these people were.

Then I rolled open the 35mm negatives. These were my photos taken in the 1960s and 1970s with my 1954 Russian Kiev camera. Even then I was curious about mechanical things, so I had opened the camera to see what was inside and realized that it was in fact a true German Contax rebadged as Kiev. I have since owned and used hundreds of classic cameras but I believe that Kiev was a watchmaker’s work—it was pure joy to wind and click, and the Sonnar lens had the creamiest bokeh wide-open.

Most of the negatives were creased, cracked, scratched and affected by time and friction. After all they have travelled to four countries in the past 70 years like their immigrant owners. And in the 1970’s they have seen war. 

So, I decided to print a few pictures from the 35mm negatives, all taken during the 1970s Lebanese Civil War. The one that shocked me when I watched it slowly come to life in the developer tray, under the red darkroom light, was that of a young man, with what seems a hookah tube in his hand.  The tortured negative had not affected his eyes—after a minute in the developer solution they were looking at me with an intensity that froze me and made me forget to take the paper out of the solution to the “Stop Bath” tray making the print darker and the eyes surprisingly brighter.

… I hung the print to dry after washing it under running water and continued to look at it under the red light. These were the eyes of a young man wondering what the future reserves when stuck inside an apartment during a civil war. It was a vivid moment from 40 years ago, kept in a shoebox to come back to life in my darkroom.

What sent a chill down my spine was the fact that this was an auto-portrait, taken with my 1954 Kiev camera probably placed on our coffee table, in Beirut, sometime between 1974 and 1975…

September 7, 2014

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2014

Shapes and Daily Attitudes

Sometimes I go out with a theme in mind. And as I walk the streets, I look for scenes and people around that theme. This is when I feel like a hunter – my camera, film and lenses are chosen for a specific purpose. I do not see the world through a wide angle: a short to moderate telephoto (a zoom is too slow to adjust for street photography) and a standard 50mm lens are sufficient for most of my themes.

 Here are a few ocean side pictures. My interest was to capture the interaction of people and their immediate surroundings.Here are a few ocean side pictures. My interest was to capture the interaction of people and their immediate surroundings.

Sailboats and marinas offer the angles, shapes, textures and a perfect setting to dream about escapes. I do not know what the two ladies were talking about, but if it is about the joy of being free and setting sail whenever one feels like it, their body language may be just right for that topic.

This biker was looking at the ocean and the city beyond the narrow.  Although his bicycle was mostly handmade and eclectic, it was his body language that I wanted to capture. It is one of deep thought perhaps, or the wish to exchange to exchange the bicycle for a sailboat….

As I was looking at the two young men fishing from the pier, I noticed the pay binoculars. I smiled at the thought that I could click from an angle to make one of these binoculars “fit” perfectly on one of the fisherman’s back making him look like a robot…. I took two shots using a 1970s Nikkor 105mm lens.  Nice fit, eh?

This last picture needs no commentary. It is all movement and perhaps about multi-tasking.  Took it with a 1960s Nikkor 180mm lens.

August 24, 2014

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2014

King Arthur's Bones

While reading an article about how mitochondrial DNA, extracted from skeletal bones, can determine matrilineal decadence, I was intrigued by how this method was used to ascertain, beyond reasonable doubt, that the skeleton found under a parking lot in Leicester was that of Richard III. Further, I learned that Richard was the last king from York representing the Tudor dynasty that ruled England from 1485 to 1603.

I am not an expert in royal genealogy, so all this means little to me. But, then there was a paragraph about Catherine and Arthur, married in 1501 to establish a diplomatic alliance, binding the Tudor regime to the Spanish family of Isabella of Castile and Ferdinand of Aragon. Aha! I had heard about the famous debate if Catherine and Arthur ever consumed their marriage, since after a few months of marriage Arthur died and Catherine convinced that she was still a virgin, allowing the church to accept her marry Arthur’s brother! Hmm…

So I read a bit more. It seems that it was customary for select members of the Court to accompany the just married couple to their bedroom and put them to bed together on their wedding night. Consequently it is said that the courts of England and Spain assumed that they had sexual relations, consumed the marriage, and that the diplomatic alliance was officially established. But, Catherine had another story to tell….

…This story made me think about a couple of pictures I had taken in Kruger Reserve, South Africa. We were driving in the park when a splendidly male lion came out of the forest making all of us very uncomfortable. He walked slowly behind our car and seemed totally uninterested in our presence.

Then a roar and a lioness came out of the woods. It was at this moment when I became convinced that a king can "consume" anytime he wants, in front of many people holding cameras to their face albeit with shaking hands.

It all lasted a few seconds (really!), then a short “cat nap”!

The pictures are of bad technical quality, but I think appropriate to prove that if Catherine and Arthur did not consummate their marriage, this king I met on the paths of Kruger Reserve, absolutely did.
Beyond reasonable doubt!

August 16, 2014

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2014

Jerome, Arizona

If indeed form follows function, then Jerome is a town built with no planning for a town. Between Sedona and Prescott, Arizona this old mining town is a must to discover if one likes the unexpected, the easy-going, and the anachronistic feeling of being in a different time!

If the town is small and at first glance a compilation of houses perched at 1,500 meter above sea level on the mountain side, the scenery from this town is anything than small.  You can almost sit at the edge of the mountain (called Cleopatra Hills) and dangle your feet over the Valley Verde, home among other artistic attractions of well-established wineries.

A friend who had been there suggested that I visit Jerome; since it was the “spookiest town” he had ever been in.  “You have the feeling that the miners are still dancing and drinking in the saloons and the brothels have at least an hour of waiting time...” he said.

How can I not go to Jerome?

The first impression is that it is a town where some lost travelers visit but no one lives there. While it was not a ghost town in the early afternoon and under the hot desert sun, looking at the narrow streets and winding paths (would not call them roads..) around the town, one can almost feel the spookiness of Jerome at night. But for now, the restaurants were open, motorcyclists were having beer in the saloon of the historic Connor Hotel, and there were more than a few signs about brothels and bordellos. 

Here is the note on the front window of the town’s souvenir shop.

After a short walk to the top of the hill which signals the town limit of the Jerome, it was time for some food. Of course it one wants to taste the local wild boar, he has to go to the restaurant called “The Bordello of Jerome”. There, a waitress with a great smile and her entire body covered in tattoos greeted us. After sitting down I realized that there are pictures of her, from various angles, all over the restaurant and even under the tabletop glass… Needless to say the boar meat was perfectly cooked and served with fried yams.

On the way down the hill one finds the preserved ruins of an old hotel, known for the good times the miners there had with prostitutes and alcohol. I have learned that Jerome became a thriving little copper mining town in the 1900 and that these businesses served a population that was 78 percent male. In a fenced-in area of the hotel’s ruins was a toilet bowl used en guise of a wishing well! How appropriate in its simplicity and message!  And seeing the coins people had thrown toward that toilet bowl one can guess that even when the prostitutes and alcohol are gone, people still have wishes to make.

The architecture of Jerome is as eclectic as its inhabitants and visitors. Historic hotels, saloons and eateries co-exist with modern art galleries, wine tasting bars, and a most inviting popcorn store. Yet, when one looks down the valley where copper was mined till 1952, this house stands apart from all others. It looks like someone placed this house, like a castle on a chess board, at the edge of the mines. It looks totally out of place and perhaps that is why it fits Jerome so well, as the entire town is out of place!

How will I remember my first visit of Jerome on a two-dimensional, 8x10 photographic paper? Not by its architecture but its joie de vivre, knowing that, as Wikipedia reports “in 1903 The New York Sun proclaimed Jerome to be "the wickedest town in the West".  Perhaps this picture captures the attitude one should have when in Jerome, today a town of 400 inhabitants and a great place to escape reality for a few hours.

Anyone sitting atop a mountain, under the desert sun, and drinking from a bottle labeled "ICE AGE" is surely in a different zone!

July 21, 2014

©Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2014

Sedona, Arizona

A trip to Arizona brought back memories of conferences and lectures. But this time, it was for leisure and for the outdoors.

Among the places I visited was Sedona, a city at an elevation of 4,500 feet in the Upper Sonoran Desert of northern Arizona. Sedona and the Verde Valley region are surrounded by red sandstone formations. Probably the Grand Canyon is most known around the world for its extra-terrestrial look and colours, but the Sedona sandstones are no less amazing. For those of you who have seen old American Cowboy movies, you will understand how majestic those formations are. At sunrise and sunset, the colours turn to red, golden yellow and orange.

That is why spiritual pursuits are among the activities Sedona is known for. People search their inner harmony after climbing 200 or 300 meter formations and perching themselves at the edge of the sandstone “rock” and meditate. Others, torture their mountain bikes over rock and stone, or just hike for endless hours to be one with this exquisite environment.

Since I am not a landscape photographer, on trips of this nature, I often wonder if I should take a camera with me. After all, there are millions of wonderful photographs of these sand formations, and in colour! What can I capture in B&W that justifies 2 Kg of weight around my neck when climbing under the desert sun? So, if you want to see Sedona’s environment, just Google and you will not be sorry for doing so.

But I always take a camera. It is now part of my anatomy and I always worry that I would return from a trip saying “I missed that moment! I wish my Rolleiflex was with me!”

Here is a picture of the environment. Rugged desert and its flora. The texture and contrast of the fallen tree along with the some vegetation in the background were perfect for B&W shots. July is the monsoon season in Arizona and quite a bit of rain has fallen. During these days, the desert is greener.

While I was admiring the sandstone structures and decided to climb (at least half-way) a 300 meter formation, I saw three persons sitting at the edge of the sandstone “rock” about 100 meters away. Decided to see what my trusty 1970’s Nikkor 105mm lens can capture.

Then, during processing the picture, I enlarged the area to see the people. And it was indeed a spiritual moment! The two ladies seem to be guided by a bona fide fakir! I love these moments when I discover what I captured only after a “closer look” post picture-taking.

Yet, to a street photographer, all these majestic formations mean less than a kiss stolen in the parking lot, after the hiking trip. And I was able to capture that second, with the sandstone formation as background.

What can be sweeter than a kiss getting slightly up on your toes, to end the day?

July 19, 2014

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2014

Aquāticō

The 4th of July is usually hot and humid in Baltimore. This year we had the first hurricane of the season pass near the shore and had a couple of days of high winds and heavy rain. But the airs was “washed” and clean on the night of July 4^th and thousands came to the Inner Harbor to see the fireworks.

I do not take pictures of fireworks. After all it is dark and I use slow film. More importantly why take B&W pictures of fireworks when the visual attraction is in the explosion of colours? But I always have a camera hanging from my shoulder or neck, and this time I took my least favorite camera with me—a Nikon F4, and a 50mm 1.4 Nikkor lens.

But something quite intriguing happened. When the sky was full of lights and the explosions reverberated louder and louder on the water and the tall buildings around the port, hundreds of geese seemed to have lost their North!  They were disoriented and huddled together close to shore wondering what this was about. Was it night? Was it day? How about all these explosions? Was it the end of the world?

We had interfered and affected the natural balance of our environment and I had a story to capture.  Using the light of the fireworks to time my shots, with the lens wide open and the camera handheld, I took numerous shots.  This one synchronized well with the impromptu “flash” and the reflection on the water. The silhouettes of the geese tell the story of their disorientation.

Earlier in the day, I had noticed a “calm after the storm” moment near the Inner Harbor. This time the dog was neither disoriented nor scared. Instead, he looks like the observer of a whale and the woman ready to launch her harpoon!

Finally, decided to include a picture I had taken a couple of years ago, always in Baltimore, with a Yashica 124 medium format camera. I was biking around with that “old light box” hanging from my neck when I saw this lady in the parking lot. She also saw me and smiled, so I took the picture. Perhaps it could be called “land aquatics”? Her happy and unconstrained demeanor was perfect for describing the mood of someone ready to get in a kayak wearing what makes her happy.

For me, it was the perfect example why I love street photography!

July 6, 2014

© Vahé Kazandjian, 2014