Moonlight in Hong Kong
View allAll Photos Tagged Dissonant
“I close my eyes till I see neon jungles
And suddenly everything’s green around me
I close my eyes till there’s no one around
Every face that I’ve known simply gone…”
More on a little virtual keyhole ☂
_________
“I close my eyes till I see neon jungles
And suddenly everything’s green around me
I close my eyes till there’s no one around
Every face that I’ve known simply gone…”
More on a little virtual keyhole ☂
_________
Alte Akademie, Munich, Germany.
Design (1583): Friedrich Sustris (?)
In full restoration suit. I love the mind bending diagonal scaffolding.
The northern lights dance after a fresh snowstorm in the Arctic winter. Stormolla Lofoten. One of the only places on the Islands I could find a good northern facing composition with no light pollution - and even here there was a little.
*I've got calendars for sale this year on my etsy. The etsy shop name is "Maddogmurph" - Or just check my main profile for the link or PM me. Thanks!
#2490
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Buried deep in the Serra do Açor (a protected landscape area), which is full of breathtaking views, springs and pastureland, the historical village of Piódão is reminiscent of a crib because of the harmonious way in which its houses are arranged in the form of an amphitheatre. At night, when the village´s lights are turned on, this picture is particularly magnificent.
The distinctive feature of this mountain village with its narrow winding streets is schist, a stone found in great abundance in the region and used to build the houses and pavements, forming a large patch of uniform colour, interrupted by the vivid blue of the windows or doors of some houses. This note of dissonant colour owes its origin to a practical consideration, for it is said that the only shop in the village had nothing but blue paint to sell, and in view of the village´s isolation it was not easy for people to travel anywhere else. It has in fact been this isolation and the difficulties in travelling elsewhere that have helped to preserve many of the characteristics of this ancient village intact.
Amongst the group of small two-storey houses, the one building that particularly stands out is the parish church dedicated to Our Lady of the Conception, which is whitewashed and supported by some rather peculiar cylindrical buttresses. It was built by the local population in the early 19th century, with their gold and money.
In view of its hidden setting in the foothills of the serra, Piódão was once an ideal location for fugitives from justice, and it is thought that one of the murderers of D. Inês de Castro went into hiding here, thus escaping the wrath of D. Pedro I (14th century).
A historical village that has never actually played a major part in the History of Portugal, Piódão has become famous more recently because of its scenographic setting in the heart of the Serra do Açor. Such beauty is more than sufficient reason for visiting the village.
Biarritz 2019
The dissonant bells of the sea
Who are ringing the rhymes of the deep
As they sing of the ages asleep
Not so near or so far ...
Royal Museum of Fine Arts Antwerp | kmska.be/en
The KMSKA approached Boy & Erik Stappaerts (BES, 1969, Antwerp) to create a new installation here, with the support of the National Lottery. The artist devised a two-part work of art: 2 Conflict Paintings + Color Method in 7 Layers.
Conflict Painting orchestrates different color groups in horizontal lines and hues, which are broken up by dissonant colours. A tsunami of colors overtakes you and offers a physical experience with emotional impact.
Royal Museum of Fine Arts Antwerp
Eroded minerals catch slanting evening light at Zabriskie Point, Death Valley National park, California. The power of water-driven erosion in the furnace-blasted desert of Death Valley is a beautifully dissonant phenomenon to contemplate.
The formations visible from Zabriskie Point are almost completely devoid of vegetative life, making it very difficult to wrap one's mind around the scale. However, a few shrubs in the flood plain give try their best to reveal the relief. I ambled up to this viewpoint for sunset, and joined the throng of others who had assembled with like mind. There are some striking and remote places in Death Valley, but it turns out that few of those places are readily accessible when one's rental vehicle is a Kia Soul. Next time I visit this part of the world I might splurge for a vehicle with 4-wheel drive...
Das Ausweichgleis abgeklemmt. Die Signale am Hauptgleis trotzdem noch durchweg in Betrieb. Dazu trockenes Gestrüpp und ein paar Mauern und Zäune, deren Zweck sich nicht so recht erschließt. All das in einem hügeligen Niemandsland. Dann, nachdem die Schranken schon gut fünf Minuten geschlossen sind, kommt ein Dieseltriebwagen – aufgeregt und dissonant pfeifend – in einem doch überraschenden Tempo daher. Schießt vorbei, trötet munter weiter und ist so schnell weg, wie er gekommen ist.
Italienische Dieselstrecken – man muss sie einfach lieben ;-)
18. Molto allegro – F minor.
(Für die deutsche Version siehe bitte: www.vlachbild.de/musik-als-foto-chopin-prelude-no-18/ )
What tormented music, bording on being dissonant. .At the beginning a question is posed - and not answered. Instead theres tumultous runs, chords - fen fires. At the end two big shocks. Nothing else. No answer....
Listen to it here eg:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=titPBz6h2ck
Project for February 2013: photographic interpretations of Chopins 24 Preludes op.28
Simbach am Inn is een van de plaatsen die nog door de DB-treinstellen Baureihe 628 (in dit geval regionetwerk SüdostBayernBahn) wordt aangedaan. Maar het station heeft ook iets museaals: kijk naar de oude stationsnaamborden en de bestemmingsbordjes op de perrons. De moderne vuilnisbak is haast een dissonant. Voor het station staat bovendien stoomlocomotief 52 8034 opgesteld; 24 september 2021.
Henderson's, West Toronto Railpath, Toronto ON 12 Sep 2020
A bit of Dylan Thomas with your patio beer.
Two Windows. © Copyright 2022 G Dan Mitchell.
Two windows and metallic walls at the Contemporary Jewish Museum, San Francisco.
On my photographic walks in San Francisco — part of a familiar routine that begins with a train ride to The City — it isn’t unusual to pass through the area around Moscone Center and SFMOMA. Just a bit north of here I often follow a route that takes me on sidewalks that don’t border the streets, and I end up passing the fascinating architecture of the Contemporary Jewish Museum, with its angled, metal exterior walls.
As appealing as this structure is, I’ve often found it difficult to photograph. The area around it is somewhat constrained by the proximity of other buildings, and those buildings are visually quite dissonant with the design of this one. So, at least for me, photographs of the larger scale of the building are difficult, and I still don’t have one that I really like. However, moving in closer and working the textures, reflected colors, and the angles and surfaces close up is more promising.
G Dan Mitchell is a California photographer and visual opportunist. His book, “California’s Fall Color: A Photographer’s Guide to Autumn in the Sierra” is available from Heyday Books, Amazon, and directly from G Dan Mitchell.
art created from my photos
Original 3 photos: doors & windows in Harmony, PA, 2 on houses (1 of which used to be a bank) & 1 on a barn. All three photos were mainly reds and tans. Harmony is a quaint and picturesque town with many old, restored homes and other buildings.
I intended to give the image a title that had the word "harmony" or a synonym in it, But when I completed the image, that didn't seem to fit, so I went with an antonym instead.
______
All images are my own except for one texture from GraphicStock which I altered significantly.
I have set up a small recording studio on the upper floor of our little home in the woods.
Buba is usually very sensitive to noise – shots and pops in particular. A faraway gunshot or fireworks is enough to send her hiding under the bed for hours on end.
But whenever I go upstairs to record music, Buba wants to come with me. And even the loudest music with the loudest guitars and the loudest drums and the most dissonant chords imaginable don't matter to her at all.
She just lies there, listening.
I guess I'll have to list her as co-producer in the liner notes... ;-)
AI creation with Nightcafe
TEXT ONLY with Dreamshaper XL Lightning - Creative Upscale
The prompt was adapted from some earlier creations, substituting the first line to include 'vampire cryptid chibi-monster'.
Creative Upscale at 80% gave it the fine points, I then adjusted contrast and color.
PROMPT:
Surrealism. Close up. A vampire cryptid chibi-monster conducts an orchestra in a Gothic cathedral. Fauvism. Vibrant colors dance across stained glass. Haunting shadows fall on foggy stone. Triadic colors, dissonant melodies, and swirling psychedelic textures. Chaotic, virtuosic, best quality, cinematic, 8k resolution, incredibly detailed, sweeping orchestral, doom synthwave, industrial, electric guitar, operatic, primal, cryptid, Lovecraft, Giger, cosmic Bogomil's Universe.
With the magnificent Howgills on the skyline, a very late 4M48 - the southbound "Tesco" - runs down Grayrigg bank at Hardrigg on January 8 2010 behind 92017.
The colour scheme and bold lettering looked very smart, though there were a few perceived anomalies.
Firstly, the cast alloy Channel Tunnel Roundels were not removed and were left unpainted, though the lettering (which I assume were vinyl) did cover them.
Then there was the cab-sides below the windows. Had the darker blue been extended across the lower cab half with a hard edge below white windows it would have looked (IMHO) very smart, but the lighter blue with Stobart chevrons that faded to the white looked somewhat dissonant.
Also, strangely, the locomotive name was in white lettering on an almost white background which - I like to think – was to disguise the silly name.
My experience of visiting the Al-Aqsa compound was rather more turbulent than the quietness, even light-heartedness, of this particular image. It made the calm of the architecture and light, the easiness of this scene, both palpable and dissonant.
Ten years on, I would photograph the scene rather differently, I think - two or three more seconds and the boy with his ball would have been perfectly placed. Here it is, nevertheless.
Jerusalem, January 2009, Lumix FX-01.
Late and rainy afternoon, people walking home after having watched the air show with the Red Arrows. Off screen on the right, a man busking with a toyish pink drum more dissonant than pleasant.
Autumn Evening, Aspen Grove. © Copyright 2023 G Dan Mitchell.
Quiet light in a grove of autumn aspen trees in the Eastern Sierra Nevada.
These “evening”quiet light” aspen scenes really appeal to me. While the colors can be extremely intense in full daylight, especially when the trees are back-lit, the soft light lowers the contrast level and allows the details in the shadows to emerge and the leaf colors to be a bit more true. (We have to scale back the exposure quite a bit to avoid blowing out the red channel in digital photographs of colorful leaves in full sun.) The whole atmosphere changes at these times, too. It is often cool and quiet and still.
How to compose such photographs is an interesting question. To some extent, I work pretty subjectively in this regard, just looking at the scene and thinking about balance and primary subject and they doing a bit of quite analysis and “edge patrol.” But “when I know, I know.” Here I was looking for the even spread of trunks across the scene, but I also like the little “mountain” of yellow leaves in the foreground… and the visually dissonant presence of the small, green conifer adds just a bit of tension.
G Dan Mitchell is a California photographer and visual opportunist. His book, “California’s Fall Color: A Photographer’s Guide to Autumn in the Sierra” is available from Heyday Books, Amazon, and directly from G Dan Mitchell.
Mystery Sign in Alkmaar
It was a joke.. Somebody bought this second hand C&A sign. 50 Euro. It all had to do with the marriage of his friends..
The dissonant object on these old buildings in Alkmaar - The Netherlands - was removed after a view days.
Indiana Dunes National Park is the 61st and newest US national park. Located an hour away from Chicago, this park is described by New York Times as ‘a long, skinny patch of 15,000 acres with 15 miles of beach along Lake Michigan’s southern shore’. Protected as National Lakeshore since 1966, it recently got ‘bumped up’ in status – and perhaps, prestige – when the current administration signed it into a national park in February, 2019 as part of the spending bill that also included funding for the Mexican wall. After a prolonged struggle, local conservationists got their wish of achieving the top NPS protection status for the park.
This status elevation has turned out to be somewhat controversial with national park enthusiasts. After all, the key feature of this park are sand dunes, which are, by no stretch of imagination, anything like epic landscape of Yellowstone or Grand Canyon; not even like other parks featuring sand dunes, such as Death Valley or Great Sand Dunes. Moreover, any splendor of the landscape here is artlessly punctuated by grim steel manufacturing mills and their ugly chimneys. Also, the best dunes of this area are not a part of the national park – they are in the state park which is managed independently by the state of Indiana. However, fans of this park vigorously defend the promotion and point out that the biodiversity of this park is astounding – recorded 1,100 native plant species here rank the park fourth-most diverse plant ecosystem among all US national parks, superseded only by much larger Great Smoky Mountains, North Cascades, and Grand Canyon. Also, annual visitation-wise, this park ranks a decent 13th among all 61 parks. This area was the field laboratory of the University of Chicago botanist – HC Cowles – who proposed ecological succession – a fundamental tenet of modern ecology – based on his work in the park. Like it or not, Indiana’s lakeshore is visually somewhat dissonant but is now a national treasure ready for primetime.
Arguably, the protagonist of the park is a 125 feet tall, bare dune that has an unflattering name: Mount Baldy. Due to lack of vegetation, the exposed Baldy is a ‘moving’ dune that moves 4-20 feet every year. As it moves, Baldy buries and chokes mature oak trees that stymie its languid progress. Locals tell tales of horsing around on this great pile of sand in summer, but these days, Baldy has restricted access. In 2013, a young boy on a family hike was ‘swallowed’ by a patch of Baldy quicksand. Although he was rescued miraculously after a few hours by firefighters, NPS closed the dune for further inspection and visitor safety.
We visited mount Baldy when we were in the park a few days ago. In person, the dune is indomitable and big. It sprawls right next to the parking lot and will likely engulf it in a decade or two. You see, the dune is a perfect coup between shores of lake Michigan and high winds that ride the air around here. As the wind gales, sand particles climb up the windward side of the dune and roll down leeward with a soft mellifluous rustle that is clearly audible if one pays attention. Photographing this giant was a challenge. Because the day was windy (surprise!) and clouds were moving, long-exposures came to mind and I set up my tripod. This amazed everyone nearby. ‘What are you shooting?’ several of them asked, often emphasizing strongly on the ‘what’. ‘Clouds’, I told them. In response, many looked up (‘O yeah, they’re pretty!’), while others decided to urgently vacate premises to avoid contacting my lunatic cooties.
The fragile dunes of Indiana Dunes national park were created by receding continental glaciers 14,000 years ago. Since then, they have danced with the wind, sang with the rain, frozen with the winter snow, and dreamt with clouds. If you visit them and listen to their stories, you will be surprised to find that their tales are just like your own; against all odds, they are tales of resilience and perseverance.
Il primo edificio che si incontra percorrendo la via Francesco Mormina Penna è il Palazzo Comunale, realizzato tra il 1902 e il 1906 nel luogo dove anticamente si trovava il Monastero delle Benedettine, annesso alla Chiesa di San Giovanni Evangelista.
Nonostante il contrasto dei volumi tra la struttura municipale che si estende seguendo un'immaginaria linea verticale e l'attigua Chiesa di San Giovanni Evangelista l'intero complesso non appare dissonante. Un telaio di lesene e semicolonne su alti piedistalli incornicia il prospetto dell'edificio ulteriormente scandito da bugne lisce spezzate dalle finestre a bifora del primo piano. Questo è l'unico monumento civile all'interno di uno spazio religioso e aristocratico.
Negli ultimi anni il palazzo ha acquistato una considerevole notorietà essendo divenuto set cinematografico della fiction "Il commissario Montalbano", personaggio nato dalla penna dello scrittore siciliano Andrea Camilleri.
The first building you come across along the Via Francesco Mormina Pen is the Town Hall, built between 1902 and 1906 in the place where once stood the Benedictine Monastery, adjoining the Church of San Giovanni Evangelista.
Despite the contrast of volumes between the municipal structure that extends following an imaginary vertical line and the adjacent Church of St. John the Evangelist, the entire complex appears dissonant. A frame of pilasters and half-columns on high pedestals frames the façade of the building further punctuated by smooth ashlar broken by mullioned windows of the first floor. This is the only civil monument in a space religious and aristocratic.
In recent years the building has acquired considerable notoriety by becoming a film set of the TV series "Inspector Montalbano", character created by the Sicilian writer Andrea Camilleri.
Mutability
Shelley
I.
We are as clouds that veil the midnight moon;
How restlessly they speed and gleam and quiver,
Streaking the darkness radiantly! yet soon
Night closes round, and they are lost for ever:
II.
Or like forgotten lyres whose dissonant strings
Give various response to each varying blast,
To whose frail frame no second motion brings
One mood or modulation like the last.
III.
We rest—a dream has power to poison sleep;
We rise—one wandering thought pollutes the day;
We feel, conceive or reason, laugh or weep,
Embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away:
IV.
It is the same!—For, be it joy or sorrow,
The path of its departure still is free;
Man's yesterday may ne'er be like his morrow;
Nought may endure but Mutability.
another curious excursion in sf today. went to pick up moving boxes from some guy at his workplace on the edges of north beach, chinatown, downtown.
although the main drags are of great interest just by virtue of the trash and flash - and the dissonant overlapping cultures - the scores of tiny, dramatically inclined alleys were much more to my liking; struck familiar chords from childhood, east coast.
watching a doc on leonard cohen. wonder if he liked san francisco ... ?
"there's a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in ... "
copyright Fabienne Cresens
SITE: www.picturelle.be
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Festival Dissonant in Hof Ter Lo (Antwerpen) on april 2007
The Eldrial Vale
Beneath an immeasurable sky, where clouds drifted like phantoms across a fathomless blue, the Eldrial Vale unfurled in solemn majesty. It was a place where time thickened, suspended between memory and forgetting. On either side, mountains loomed — their peaks scarred by lingering ice, white veins against weathered rock — watching all with an indifference carved by millennia. Forests of ancient trees draped their dark canopies down the slopes, their depths murmuring secrets to winds that slipped through the branches like unseen messengers.
A river, impossibly clear, wound its way through the valley’s heart, glinting like liquid glass drawn by an unseen hand. It wove intricate, unhurried arcs through the meadowlands, as if contemplating its own course. The water whispered across pebbles smoothed by the ages, its sound a language older than thought. There was a kind of sentience to its flow, a knowing grace that made the air around it feel charged — as though the very earth held its breath.
The valley floor stretched out, a wild expanse of mossy greens and russet grasses, interrupted by boulders tossed carelessly in some forgotten upheaval. Wildflowers, brilliant yet shy, clung to the edges of this fractured land, their delicate petals trembling beneath the weight of the sun’s late morning gaze. The air was dense with the scent of damp loam, cool stone, and distant water — a mingling of fragrances so subtle they bordered on memory.
It was a landscape that held itself apart, poised between serenity and unease. A stillness laced with tension, as though the land teetered on the brink of revelation. Here, beauty did not simply exist; it watched. The mountains neither welcomed nor forbade, their silence stretched taut, a canvas awaiting meaning. The river did not merely travel — it remembered, its path carved not just through rock, but through forgotten tales and unspoken longings.
Beyond the narrowing of the vale, where shadows braided themselves into the light, lay the passage into wilder realms. The valley's edges blurred, boundaries fading into uncertainty. Each step forward felt like a question pressed into the earth. And in that space between known and unknown, sunlight seemed to flicker, hesitant yet resolute — as though the world itself was deciding whether to unveil or obscure.
To stand here was to feel the enormity of stories untold, the ache of things almost remembered. The air thrummed with a quiet, dissonant music, vibrating with a tension that refused to resolve. The stones, the water, the wind — they all seemed to pause, expectant, holding within them the possibility of revelation or retreat.
This was Eldrial: a place where the world tilted ever so slightly, unsettling in its beauty, magnetic in its mystery — an edge between what was and what might yet be.
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To wander these landscapes, whether in vision or in thought, is to touch a fragment of that boundless wonder. If the whisper of this vale calls to you, let your journey continue beyond these words. Discover more visions of untamed places and stories held in light and language at www.coronaviking.com — where the world awaits, ready to be seen anew.
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Real Location: Routeburn Valley North in New Zealand's Southern Alps
Yesterday was my birthday ( 73). So my wife and I decided to take an Aimless Drive without any particular destination in mind. We ended up in Williamsport, Pennsylvania. Then, pure serendipity! We went here: Victorian Parlor, 1860 -1890 yup, that’s the essence of Victorian decorating, all right. Taber Museum and Lycoming Historical Society in Williamsport , Pennsylvania.
Consonance and Dissonance. © Copyright 2023 G Dan Mitchell.
Structural elements along the High Line Park, Manhattan
Taking a cue from the music-related title of this photograph, perhaps you have noticed that my photographs cover a wide range of subjects. When people ask me “what I photograph,” probably expecting a short answer like “landscapes” or “portraits” or street,” there is an awkward moment while I consider how to respond. I don’t photograph just one thing… any more than a composer would choose to write only, say, impromptus. There is more than one thing to express, so more than one approach is necessary. If anything, my photographs are about… how I see the world photographically.
I won’t try to explain the entire “consonance and dissonance” connection here, except to point out that these terms have multiple meanings. One very basic idea is that something is consonant in music if if “sounds nice” and “dissonant” if it doesn’t. But a more interesting idea relates to something that seems static and “settled” (consonance) versus something that seems restless and striving (dissonance). Taken one step further, the tension created by dissonance often propels us toward consonance… and consonance can resolve that tension.
G Dan Mitchell is a California photographer and visual opportunist. His book, “California’s Fall Color: A Photographer’s Guide to Autumn in the Sierra” is available from Heyday Books, Amazon, and directly from G Dan Mitchell.
QUEENZ @ LEVEL Event
NEW Dissonant Set
100% Original Mesh
- 8 Separate colors
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Sizes: Freya, Isis, Hourglass, Maitreya, eBody-Curvy, Katena Regular
The song of the frogs
Your fear should not stop my hands
when a caress is near my fingertips
ready to explode crossing your hair
like a far firework, the echo of a lost holiday,
the remind of a past happy joyful time.
Your interrogative eyes should not
stare at me like I was the foulest of all fools
the one that does not know the weight
of the intrinsic value of a blast of words
said just in a moment to be left in the wind.
Heavy inheritance of a world of illusions and
disillusions, all covered with the lightness
of a not hidden superficiality of aims and hopes.
Come here, come here summer of despair !
light of dead drunk fireflies all around escaping
when a stone falls in the pond with a deaf sound.
Do you hear the frogs singing their dissonant song?
You so close yet so distant, caring at times
but always closed in your own mystery.
Come here, come here don’t leave me waiting
In the middle of the seagulls’ noisy meal.
My half lifted hand insecure in a caress,
withdraws in its mortified attempt.
I do not try to understand the reasons
I do not wonder anymore and yet I am hurt,
I should not but I can’t help a subtle pain,
crawling sneaky along my veins,
coward, when I am absent minded
reaching for my heart and there stopping,
stubborn catching my breath
and taking my words away.
And you , you observe me with your
inquisitive glance like I was something exotic
coming from outer worlds and from outer galaxies,
with my charge of ironic too subtle humor
and unexpressed enigmatic poetry.
Come here, come here months of lazy intimacy,
talking like we were the only ones on this earth,
like we were the only ones to share a secret.
The unveiled truths of a cheap honesty,
the last mirror to seize the real look
of a thousand remodeled fake beauties.
Anybody else old enough to remember when people raked their leaves and burned them and the aroma of leaf smoke was sweet in the autumn air? Now everyboy uses leafblowers and what do we get? Noise pollution and gas fumes. Bah! And now that I'm looking at it, I see that this dissonant image is a whole lot prettier than the sound of the leafblowers I've been hearing all day.