I awoke last night to the sound of wind and thunder and with the realization that the power was out. After arising this morning and discovering no signs of damage, J and I went to the Walker to finally see the Picasso exhibit (it is leaving soon, so see it now). The lights came back on as we were leaving. When we arrived home, I began a conversation with my neighbor about her cool pavers (made of recycled tires and milk jugs - neatest things I've seen in a while). She asked if I had walked around the neighborhood yet. I hadn't and didn't realize the path of destruction. Trees down and houses smooshed - all in a straight line just two blocks south of our house. It is unbelievable that we didn't even have a small branch fall, while others just down the street lost and lots of trees. Como park and the fair grounds were also hit. The pictures below were taken about 2pm long after many of the trees were already removed from the yards or houses. Some houses already had tarps clinging to their roofs. Had I walked around this morning, I would have seen trees blocking the roads. I'm feeling very fortunate right now. Really, really, fortunate. Also, note this picture from the Strib (not in our neighborhood). Oh, I finally joined this century and have begun uploading pictures to Flickr and will discontinue using the Typepad photo albums because there is no good way to batch upload from a Mac. A link to my Flicker set showing all my storm pictures is available to the left.
From a blog I've occasionally read in the past. Taken from a building at the U. Click on the pictures to make them bigger. Unbelievable.
Update on my brother's friend - no news. His employer let his entire department go home today because of the guy's presumed death.
I stole this from someone I know who is a building manager downtown. He has access to high floors and a building roof. His pictures of the tragedy are in many of the local website slide shows.
Photo from Brad TeGantvoort. Click for a larger version.
I like to take pictures. I have since I was a kid. My dad had a Minolta 35mm camera that was attached to my side for a few years. I took a photography class in high school and learned how to develop film and photos (and won a few photography awards along the way). This skill lead to one of my work-study jobs, printing boring university pictures in my college photo lab. I learned more there: how to shadow in skies and how to get just the right exposure (underexpose the MFA students because it makes the eyes pop). I'm also the family photographer. Every member of my family has access to a digital camera, but I'm the one who actually takes and distributes the pictures. Thankfully, I now load things up on Shutterfly and they buy what they want.
Thus, I ponder photography, particularly when walking around craft/art sales. Recently, I've sort of grown to really dislike people who think their photographs are good enough to sell. I see these people on vacations around the world. They wait for hours to get the right light. They stand in the best possible picture location, guarding their perch. They can take up to 100 pictures of the same thing. Then, they photoshop the hell out of their pictures, crop the crap out, and sell them. Old time photographers may have waited for the best light, but their shots were limited by the amount of film available. And, there was no photoshop. Any photo editing was limited to what could happen during the printing process (which wasn't much).
There are also now large photo communities on the web. People take and post pictures of anything. Local communities have "picture of the day" sites. Here is one from Minneapolis. Here is one from St. Paul. (The Minneapolis site is particularly good.) I like photo sites. I like the idea of sharing photos. I see places I'll never go. I better understand historical events. But, I now always wonder. What was captured by the camera's lens and what was changed later?
So, I started thinking. What if people could only post/print/sell the first picture they took every day? One shot. That's all you get folks. If it sucks, too bad. No photoshopping. How different would the craft sales and the web communities appear? On one hand, it probably behooves us to see "good" pictures of a particular location or person. They are more compelling. They might have more impact. They could increase tourism to a poor location, for example. But, on the other, what if the photo editing goes too far? What if the power lines are removed, people visit the location, and are mad at the misrepresentation? More abstractly, what does it mean to capture life? Is it okay to get it almost right, or does it have to be perfect like some idealized version of what our eyes see?
I have become rather lazy when it comes to photography. Back in my Minolta days, I had to actually set the camera to get the best shot. Now, often, I'll use the auto settings on the camera. I rarely set the camera to manual. So, in many ways I'm no different from the people who use Photoshop. Mine is a different technology, yes, but technology all the same. I don't have time to wait for four hours to get the light just right, but I can tell you that I took 20 pictures of my white peony. I was playing around with shadows and sun, but still, 20 pictures of a flower that blooms every year?
I suppose I should conclude this post with an argument, but I'm really not sure where I am on this topic. On one hand the "professional" photographers drive me nuts. I'm not talking about people who shoot for National Geographic, who are bound by ethical code not to edit too much. I'm talking about the people who have marginal photography skills but good software skills. Get out of the craft sales! You are frauds! But, then, of course, I argue back to myself, who says that technology-enhanced pictures are not just a different type of art? On the other hand, I appreciate lovely, well-composed photos regardless of how they're created. Maybe if the sellers put up a sign saying "photo-editing free" or something, I would feel better about being able to appreciate their work.
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