Merry Christmas

Wishing everyone a very Merry Christmas from the snowy mountains of Wyoming!

Dancin’ In The Rain.

I am a huge fan of quotations. They seem to put into words what my impossibly visual mind cannot write for itself. Ever since my college sailing coach began putting a quote-of-the-day on our daily practice notes I started writing them down. Everywhere. I currently have a “memo” section in my phone full of them. I see one I like and I quickly jot it down. Why? I’m not sure. Sometimes it’s good to run through them all, kind of a positive affirmation that there are other people out there trying to do what they love in the face of some good old-fashioned adversity. I came across this one the other day and found it particularly fitting given the current circumstances.

Take from it what you may, but in my present predicament it makes perfect sense. Famed boatbuilders are belly up, industry manufacturers are closing doors and tightening budgets, professional sailing is further still from my homeland America, media conscious sponsors are harder than ever to find, and the photography industry is seeing a rapid and dramatic transition enabling the rise of hobbyists around the world. Many well-established and experienced photographers are out of work. Some would say that the odds are not good, especially because I refuse to work for less. That’s a sizable storm.

In light of said sizable storm, I have taken advantage of the lull and moved back out to Jackson, Wyoming, for the winter. A healthy paycheck on skis, ample travel time for some in-the-works grand prix sailing, and a potentially huge chance to get my feet wet with a local video team all mean one thing: I have not given up on this business and the next Volvo Ocean Race as onboard media crew member is clearly in my sights.

Just learning to dance in the rain… (or, hopefully, a more frozen Wyoming variety!)

Serigraphy

art·ist

Pronunciation: \ˈär-tist\
Function: noun
Date: circa 1507
1 a : one who professes and practices an imaginative art b : a person skilled in one of the fine arts
2 : a skilled performer; especially
3 : one who is adept at something <con artist> <strikeout artist>

By definition the concept of art and artistry is broad in the characterization of a skilled performer and the creation of an inspired work. As a photographer it’s easy to throw those two “titles” around–art and artist–but it begs the question: what is art and who is an artist?

I am an avid hockey fan and there are gifted skaters I would put under the artist category, no question. The things they do with the puck…it’s certainly inspiring and adequately skilled. Are they an “artist” in the traditional sense? No, of course not. They’re hockey players, silly!

Photographers fall into that grey zone. There are some that are undoubtedly producers of “art,” while there are others that simply document. That being said, many would classify a lot of journalists and documenters as “artists,” on the premise of perhaps additional care and attention to creative form. I would put myself into the latter, but hesitantly. I still use a very advanced camera to take pictures of boats. There’s nothing artsy about that. I get on a boat, climb into a helicopter, bark a few orders, take a few photos. That’s not art, that’s process.

Do I consciously think about what’s coming together in the viewfinder? Absolutely. Composition is something I take very seriously and it’s no different than any other artist who’s planning their next body of work. Herein lies the distinction, for me at least.

I would like to say I put 80% of the work into a picture before it’s captured. Perspective, lighting, framing, depth of field; these are all things that go into every image I create and are decided before the picture is ever taken. That is no different than when Ansel Adams would drop his tripod onto the mountains of Wyoming before a September sunrise. We both have found one particular moment that captures something bigger than just the snap of the shutter and it’s our job as photographers to use the tools at our disposal to do so. While I understandably put more than 20% of the work into the computer on the other end, it’s only because computers and their super powers take time and patience. Nonetheless, I try and keep the original image intact. It’s very important to me and something that I think a lot of people skip right over. There are a lot of photographers who aim to create something later by heavily modifying a rushed effort. Sometimes it works and sometimes not.

How about a compromise?! I decided to use my artistic resources (yours truly did manage to win the coveted Peck School Art Award in 8th grade) and look into the possibilities of taking my carefully composed photos and turning them into screen printed Serigraphs. I rather like the way they came out!

Maybe now I can officially add ‘Artist’ to my resumé?

Not that it really matters. I’m perfectly happy with “Compositionally Conscious Sailing Photographer!”

[Once I nail down the printing process these will be for sale in very limited quantities.]

Ready for Business.

The 2010 Calendar is done and ready to go! They look great and it has definitely been worth the effort.

Order HERE

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Just Print It.

Yesterday’s visit to Meridian Printing (East Greenwich, Rhode Island) concluded the long and laborious process of making the 2010 calendar a reality. It is an understatement to say that producing any form of printed work requires an insane amount of time, effort and patience. That said, I really enjoy putting the calendar together and it’s always worth the reward of seeing it come to shape. The actual printing process is fascinating and something that I’ve had a good bit of time to learn about over the past three years. I will try and run through some of the broader details below:

The standard 4-color printers are massive, maybe 40 feet long. They have longer ones two that go up to 5-and-6 colors, though 4-color offset printing is the industry standard. That means that the entire color spectrum is created through a combination of four different inks: Cyan, Magenta, Yellow, and Black. With those four inks you can recreate virtually any color though a combination of tiny dots placed on top of (or next to) each other on the paper.

Prior to going to press my calendar files are broken down into those four colors and an aluminum plate is cast for each picture and each color. The plates are affixed to one of the four rollers (four colors, four plates and four rollers in all). The ink is top-fed onto the plates which then transfers the corresponding dots onto a rubber drum.

The paper is then fed from one end of the press to the other, passing under all four rollers and ink colors. The final product spits out at the other end where I and the print technicians take a closer look.

It’s our job to analyze the ink levels according to our proofs and more importantly, what I think looks right. “too much red here, too much blue here. We need more black here.” It’s all computer controlled so with a few tweaks and too many buttons, the technicians adjust how much ink is forced through the plates on any given area across the image and we try again. The press comes to life, the rollers start rolling, paper shoots through and we start over again. “looks better here but we could still use some more black here and still less blue there.” The process repeats itself until I sign off for the full run, at which point the entire calendar stock for that particular image is run through the presses.

An hour and a half later it’s time to repeat the process for the next image… The old plates come out, new ones go in, and it goes on all day.

The calendars will now be bound and boxed and should be ready to ship by the middle of next week.

Sailing World

Always good to see another familiar photo on the magazine racks!

This cover, the November/December issue of Sailing World Magazine, was taken during the New York Yacht Club Invitational Regatta here in Newport this past September.

Whoooa winta!

The summer officially came to a sudden close last night. I am proud to say I am one of a ridiculous number of RI’ers that put up with frigid 50-degree weather and long lines just to get some ice cream goodness on the final night of summer business for the “Frosty Freeze.” I stood in line for an hour–one full hour–only to wrap my hands around a very large leaning tower of twist dipped in chocolate. The bigger the better; it will have to last me through the winter. As the string of people neared the road I couldn’t help but think what a quick summer it has been. It seems like only yesterday that I put the pedal-to-the medal from Jackson, WY, (skis on the roof) in hopes of getting across the country to Boston for the Volvo Ocean Race finish in April. Remember? That race around the world? Puma? No?

Either way, it has been a different summer for sure. Grand Prix sailing has moved farther still from Newport and I will have to adapt nonetheless. I am not sure what’s next. Sights of mine are clearly set on the next Volvo Ocean Race (see above…race? around the world?), and I would ideally like very much to do it as the MCM, or onboard media crewmember. But what until then? The America’s Cup in February is a gamble I do not wish to pay for and there is little that will support the business model elsewhere.

It is back out to Wyoming this winter for a steady paycheck on the slopes. It is hard to continue spending time, money, and efforts to live the kind of job I love. Photography needs to change, and I don’t know how or when that will happen. Perhaps a conversation for another time.

But for now, it’s Fall and beeeyoutiful here in Newport. The New York Rangers season starts tomorrow, the Yankees are looking at a long and prosperous run in the postseason, and the Giants are off to a 3-0 start. The Stripers are running good and hard and I cannot be happier; it’s the best time of year!

10 Commandments

I’ve been asked to do a quick 10 commandments for sailing photography. Here goes:

1. Never get in the way of someone who is racing or sailing. I have a no-cross rule, where I don’t ever cross anybody on a course. Like Eminem, “round the outside.”

2. Never get in the way of someone who is working. All too often somebody (knowingly) sets up right in front of somebody else. It’s a big ocean and we don’t all need to be in the same place. Can’t we all just get along?

3. Never take the same picture twice. I go into a day with a checklist of sorts and consciously avoid trying to do the same thing or be in the same place more than once. You’re just going to delete it later.

4. Vary your shot selection. Go long, go tight, go wide. You never know what you might find in the process.

5. Use and know your camera, it’s a powerful tool. Learn about the ISO (film speed)–aperture–shutter speed relationship. It’s kind of important.

6. Use and know the light. Learn about backlight and frontlight, when each is appropriate and how the time of day affects that. It drives my on-the-water decision making.

7. Get Creative. The eye gets tired of looking at something from a normal perspective so find another one. Don’t be afraid of being different. It worked for Ozzy Ozbourne.

8. Charge your batteries and remember your extra memory cards. It happens to the best of us…….(a lot?)

9. Thank your driver. He’s just put up with hours and hours of painful abuse.

10. Have fun! You’re on a boat.

Racing Portfolio

It took a Winter of conceptualizing and procrastinating on big mountains, a Spring of organizing and archiving, and a Summer of editing and proofing, but at long last the racing portfolio is finished (for now at least).

It is long–maybe too long–but it looks great and will hopefully serve me well someday soon. In brief, it is there to show my best racing material to high-end teams and programs in need of photography. Specifically the Volvo Ocean Race, TP52 MedCup circuit and America’s Cup, should it ever return…

Unfortunately the internet gallery doesn’t exactly do it justice. If anyone would like to get a hardcopy feel free to let me know. They look great in print!

You can see the portfolio in its entirety by clicking here.

Mount St. Helens

Though I spent my entire winter in Jackson, Wyoming (a 12 hour drive East from here), I have seen nothing of the Pacific Northwest. I took full advantage of our mid-week layday at the Moth Worlds and made the 2:30 hour trek to Washington State and the much famed Mount St. Helens volcano. I have always been fascinated by volcano’s; they are true evidence of a living planet. This marks my third major volcano visit, the first and second being Hawaii and Lanzarote, respectively.

A short history lesson from my day’s learnings: On May 18, 1980, heat from rising magma underneath Mount St. Helens generated an earthquake and a large crack on the Northern side of the mountain, in turn triggering the largest landslide recorded to date. The mountain wall collapsed, screaming down the mountainside and over the surrounding terrain at 300+ mph. The contained pressure within suddenly and explosively erupted horizontally, flattening forests, towns, and vegetation over 25o square miles. For over nine hours the mountain spewed ash and sulfur up to 16 miles above the Earth’s surface. Ash from Mount St. Helens was found on cars and roofs as far as the Eastern seaboard.

The landslide and eruption reduced the height of Mount St. Helens by 1,300 feet and left a crater about two miles wide. The entire Northern face  was blown off, almost completely. 57 people in total were killed and the region was decimated. High heat, mudslides from melting glaciers and ice, and strong winds destroyed and buried trees, fisheries, and local animal populations; they are still recovering.

Since 1980 Mount St. Helens remains highly active, perhaps the only volcano of its kind in continental North America. Several smaller eruptions have followed and as recently as 2004 the mountain has shown signs of another major explosion. In June of this year scientists announced they believe that Mount St. Helens may sit atop a giant magma reserve, making it an official “supervolcano,” capable of a giant eruption that could possibly destroy the entire Northwest region (link to story).

Pretty amazing place and I’m really glad I got the opportunity to see it. Somewhere along the way the clouds thickened and the mountain disappeared, for good. Time to go back to silly little boats!