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núvols en moviment amb el montgrí de fons i a sota els camps d'arròs, 2010
nubes en movimiento con el Montgrí de fondo y bajo los campos de arroz, 2010
clouds moving with Montgrí background and below the rice fields, 2010
nova web: tofercu.260mb.com
Subset of a mosaic of 30 individual pictures taken with MastCam Right (100mm focal length) on sol 3049 (5 March 2021) at 2:50 pm martian local time.
Mont Mercou is a stratified butte 7m high and 15m long.
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Partie d'une mosaïque de 30 photos acquises par la caméra MastCam Droite (distance focale de 100 mm) au sol 3049 (5 mars 2021) à 14h50 heure locale martienne.
Le Mont Mercou est une butte finement stratifiée de 7 m de haut et longue de 15 m.
THE RISE OF CYBORG CULTURE OR THE BOMB WAS A CYBORG
Bruce Sterling's science fiction novels portray the cyborg future of humanity. There, centuries from now, humans have divided themselves into competitive factions based on two opposing philosophies: "Mechanism" and "Shaping." The former have designed their own ontogenetic evolution through the cultivation of various technologies, including the prosthetic, mechanical, and especially cybernetic ones. The Shapers rely only on biology, biochemistry, and especially molecular biology (genetics) to "shape" themselves and their own futures, primarily by extending life, sexual potency, and certain biological talents. From back here in their past, we can perceive a certain irony (out of which Sterling makes some nice satiric hay): the two human factions are really twins, seeking a shared posthuman future, though through different means. Both evolve towards artificially constructed beings who rely merely on two different arrangements of cyborg techniques to distinguish themselves from each other. The Shapers may well pride themselves on their eugencially-selected intelligence and despise the artificial computer implants and enhancements of their Mechanist doppelgangers. Yet, as one of the Mechanist spokesmen notes, "[The Shapers] might properly be defined as industrial artifacts."[1] The Mechanists may well use software implants and direct linking to computers to enhance their faculties, and abhor the messy fecundity and (what they view as "corruption") of Shaper life, but there is no denying that their mechanical prostheses change biological facts.
In one particular epoch of Sterling's future history (which he plays out over several works of fiction), this galaxial civilization is in its decadence, verging on the apocalyptic, dangerously close to achieving a critical mass or catastrophic fluctuation that will force it to "leap to a new order of complexity" (in terms Sterling borrows from chaos theory).[2] This new order will be the Post/pp. 5-6/ human. The speeches of many characters refer to this yearned-for future; they chide each other with gibes like, "Oh, show a little Posthuman fluidity." Sterling's hero in "The Cicada Queen" foresees the shape of the posthuman in "The Lobsters," humans who have already gone over to the far side of this utopian vision. The Lobsters have "shucked their humanity like a caul," combining some Shaper bioengineering with Mechanist tech to encase themselves in completely cyberneticized shells, after altering their biology to ensure they can survive.
The Lobsters hooked into fluidic computers or sheltered themselves from solar storms and ring-system electrofluxes.
They never ate. They never drank. Sex involved a clever cyber-stimulation through cranial plugs. Every five years or so they `molted' and had their skins scraped clean of the stinking accumulation of mutated bacteria that scummed them over in the stagnant warmth [of their suits].
They knew no fear… They were self-contained and anarchical. Their greatest pleasure was to sit along a girder [on a space station] and open their amplified senses to the depths of space, watching stars past the limits of ultraviolet and infrared…
There was nothing evil about them, but they were not human. As distant and icy as comets, they were creatures of the vacuum, bored with the outmoded paradigms of blood and bone. I saw within them the first stirrings of the Fifth Prigoginic Leap… as far beyond intel-/pp. 6-7/ ligence as intelligence is from amoebic life or life from inert matter. ("Cicada Queen" 77)
I find this description of one of humanity's possible futures compelling, not so much because it is attractive (which it is in some zoned-out fashion) but simply because it seems plausible. This image of the cyborg and others, also more or less plausible, have now come to dominate our postmodern landscape, expressed in literature, film, and the arts, giving rise to rich expressions too broad and numerous to catalog here.
Today, from a vantage point after the Cold War is purportedly over, it is easier to see the outline of cyborg epistemology as it grows out of seeds engineered in World War II and blossoms in Cold War culture. - From this advantageous perspective in 1993, the contest among nations and ideologies that was World War II masked an even more important war between opposing cognitive faiths, with a definite victory for cybernetic fundamentalism. In short, to understand how and why the cyborg has achieved such predominance in the 1990s, such mythological force, we must re-read World War II and the Cold War. In this paper, I hope to show how the Mechanists, the Shapers, and the Lobsters of Sterling's imagination came to be thinkable -- if not inevitable -- versions of the posthuman because of the technologies and epistemologies that won World War II.
The "Atomic Age" vs. the "Cybernetic Age": The Bomb was a Cyborg
What would happen if you asked most contemporary commentators of the period of the late 1940s and the early 1950s: What is the single most important feature of your cultural and political landscape? or, What is the largest threat to civilization? They would undoubtedly reply to both questions, "The Bomb." It is a cliché to say that what determined the politics, much of the imaginative culture, some of the nihilistic philosophy, and certainly the Byzantine dance between the superpowers USSR and /pp. 7-8/ USA, was the threat of detonating the apocalyptic, doomsday device known first as the Atomic Bomb and later as the Nuclear Bomb. This was so true that it is also a cliché to call the Cold War Era the Atomic Age, sometimes striking an upbeat note, ringing within it the gleaming promise of a utopian future, but more often echoing something bleak and foreboding. Certainly, the popular culture of the 1950s and 1960s reflected darker images in hundreds of novels and movies about atomic bombs, monsters created by nuclear fallout, like Godzilla, and parables about post-Nuclear apocalyptic worlds like "On the Beach" and "FailSafe."
I would argue, however, that the politics of the atomic bomb and nuclear weaponry is really a small subset of a much more profound and important movement, one that is now beginning to express itself in its full-blooded manifestation. Furthermore, this movement was at its core an epistemological revolution. Why does the atomic bomb fade as an icon in the 1980s and 1990s, even while nuclear weapons stockpiles increase and proliferate, to be replaced by the computer, the AI, the robot, the cyborg as the most important icon of our generation? The answer, again, is epistemological: the Atomic Bomb was a very explosive technological device, but as such was merely a symptom or manifestation of the very same epistemology that is more fundamentally represented by the cyborg.
David Porush
Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute
from : pum.umontreal.ca
(more details later, as time permits)
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Another year has elapsed since I last photographed the tango dancers gathering on Pier 45 (where Christopher Street runs into the Hudson River in New York City's West Village), on the weekend before Labor Day, late-August 2014. But the sun was shining one weekend in early June of 2015, and I decided to venture down to Greenwich Village once again...
As I've mentioned in other Flickr sets, I have now met a few of the dancers at previous tango event over the past several; years, and I used to make a point of introducing myself to some of them, handing out business cards with my Flickr address so that people would be able to find these pictures without too much difficulty. But the dancers have good reason to be more interested in the music, and the movement of their partners, than a guy on the sideline with a camera -- so most of them have simply ignored me…
Altogether, I've now taken a dozen sets of tango-related photos, and you can see a thumbnail overview of them in this Flickr collection. And if you'd like to watch some other examples NYC tango dancing, check out Richard Lipkin's Guide to Argentine Tango in New York City.
Even though the dancers seem fresh and enthusiastic each time I come down here to Pier 45, I have a definite sense of deja vu: arguably, I’ve seen it all, I’ve photographed it all, I’ve heard all the tango music several times before. So I decided to do something different this time: I took all of the photos with my iPhone6+ camera. I used the “burst mode” feature on the camera-phone, so even though I took some 4,000 separate images, there were only about 400 “bursts,” and the iPhone hardware was kind enough to tell me which one or two images were reasonably sharp in each burst. From that smaller subset, I was eventually able to whittle things down to 50 images that I thought were okay for uploading to Flickr; that’s what you’ll see here.
Actually, the reason I was motivated to do all of this was not Flickr, but Instagram: for reasons that I can only assume are a stubborn testament to the “culture” of its community, Instagram insists on a “square” format, rather than the 3:2 or 4:3 aspect ratio favored by most DSLR and point-and-shoot cameras. Even worse, it insists that the photos be uploaded one-at-a-time from a mobile device. Ironically, this last restriction may prove to be too much; I’m uploading the photos to Flickr from my desktop Mac, but I don’t know if I’ll have the patience to upload them individually to Instagram…
Aside from that, I’ve concluded that the iPhone6+ is a handy little device for casual, ad hoc photos and videos; but it really doesn’t have the features I’ve come to depend on for the photos I want to publish. I won’t go into all of the technical details; chances are that you either don’t know, or don’t care, about those details. And if you do, chances are that you’ve made up your mind one way or another. As for me, I will definitely keep using the iPhone for some of my photos — especially the ones that really are casual, unplanned, ad hoc photos when I’ve got no other equipment that I can use. But with sophisticated little “pocket cameras” like the Sony RX-100 and Canon G7X, those moments are pretty rare for me … still, it was an interesting experiment.
As I've also pointed out in some previous Flickr albums, you can see a video version of the tango dancers from 2011, complete with music (which isn’t really tango music, but that’s okay), on my YouTube page; it’s here: www.youtube.com/watch?v=rqmnTQuwn54&list=UUUXim5Er2O4...
It’s the cat’s meow! To celebrate its third year of revealing stunning scenes of the cosmos in infrared light, NASA’s James Webb Space Telescope has “clawed” back the thick, dusty layers of a section within the Cat’s Paw Nebula (NGC 6334). Focusing Webb’s NIRCam (Near-Infrared Camera) on a single “toe bean” within this active star-forming region revealed a subset of mini toe beans, which appear to contain young stars shaping the surrounding gas and dust.
Webb’s look at this particular area of the Cat’s Paw Nebula just scratches the surface of the telescope’s three years of groundbreaking science.
Credit: NASA, ESA, CSA, STScI
#NASAMarshall #NASA #NASAWebb #JWST #NASAGoddard #astrophysics #NASAChandra #Space #Chandra #Telescope #Universe #nebula
This was taken on Wooster, between Spring and Prince St.
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This set of photos is based on a very simple concept: walk every block of Manhattan with a camera, and see what happens. To avoid missing anything, walk both sides of the street.
That's all there is to it …
Of course, if you wanted to be more ambitious, you could also walk the streets of Brooklyn, Queens, Staten Island, and the Bronx. But that's more than I'm willing to commit to at this point, and I'll leave the remaining boroughs of New York City to other, more adventurous photographers.
Oh, actually, there's one more small detail: leave the photos alone for a month -- unedited, untouched, and unviewed. By the time I actually focus on the first of these "every-block" photos, I will have taken more than 8,000 images on the nearby streets of the Upper West Side -- plus another several thousand in Rome, Coney Island, and the various spots in NYC where I traditionally take photos. So I don't expect to be emotionally attached to any of the "every-block" photos, and hope that I'll be able to make an objective selection of the ones worth looking at.
As for the criteria that I've used to select the small subset of every-block photos that get uploaded to Flickr: there are three. First, I'll upload any photo that I think is "great," and where I hope the reaction of my Flickr-friends will be, "I have no idea when or where that photo was taken, but it's really a terrific picture!"
A second criterion has to do with place, and the third involves time. I'm hoping that I'll take some photos that clearly say, "This is New York!" to anyone who looks at it. Obviously, certain landscape icons like the Empire State Building or the Statue of Liberty would satisfy that criterion; but I'm hoping that I'll find other, more unexpected examples. I hope that I'll be able to take some shots that will make a "local" viewer say, "Well, even if that's not recognizable to someone from another part of the country, or another part of the world, I know that that's New York!" And there might be some photos where a "non-local" viewer might say, "I had no idea that there was anyplace in New York City that was so interesting/beautiful/ugly/spectacular."
As for the sense of time: I remember wandering around my neighborhood in 2005, photographing various shops, stores, restaurants, and business establishments -- and then casually looking at the photos about five years later, and being stunned by how much had changed. Little by little, store by store, day by day, things change … and when you've been around as long as I have, it's even more amazing to go back and look at the photos you took thirty or forty years ago, and ask yourself, "Was it really like that back then? Seriously, did people really wear bell-bottom jeans?"
So, with the expectation that I'll be looking at these every-block photos five or ten years from now (and maybe you will be, too), I'm going to be doing my best to capture scenes that convey the sense that they were taken in the year 2013 … or at least sometime in the decade of the 2010's (I have no idea what we're calling this decade yet). Or maybe they'll just say to us, "This is what it was like a dozen years after 9-11".
Movie posters are a trivial example of such a time-specific image; I've already taken a bunch, and I don't know if I'll ultimately decide that they're worth uploading. Women's fashion/styles are another obvious example of a time-specific phenomenon; and even though I'm definitely not a fashion expert, I suspected that I'll be able to look at some images ten years from now and mutter to myself, "Did we really wear shirts like that? Did women really wear those weird skirts that are short in the front, and long in the back? Did everyone in New York have a tattoo?"
Another example: I'm fascinated by the interactions that people have with their cellphones out on the street. It seems that everyone has one, which certainly wasn't true a decade ago; and it seems that everyone walks down the street with their eyes and their entire conscious attention riveted on this little box-like gadget, utterly oblivious about anything else that might be going on (among other things, that makes it very easy for me to photograph them without their even noticing, particularly if they've also got earphones so they can listen to music or carry on a phone conversation). But I can't help wondering whether this kind of social behavior will seem bizarre a decade from now … especially if our cellphones have become so miniaturized that they're incorporated into the glasses we wear, or implanted directly into our eyeballs.
If you have any suggestions about places that I should definitely visit to get some good photos, or if you'd like me to photograph you in your little corner of New York City, please let me know. You can send me a Flickr-mail message, or you can email me directly at ed-at-yourdon-dot-com
Stay tuned as the photo-walk continues, block by block ...
This was taken on Prince, near the corner of Bowery Street, in the SoHo district of Manhattan.
***************
This set of photos is based on a very simple concept: walk every block of Manhattan with a camera, and see what happens. To avoid missing anything, walk both sides of the street.
That's all there is to it …
Of course, if you wanted to be more ambitious, you could also walk the streets of Brooklyn, Queens, Staten Island, and the Bronx. But that's more than I'm willing to commit to at this point, and I'll leave the remaining boroughs of New York City to other, more adventurous photographers.
Oh, actually, there's one more small detail: leave the photos alone for a month -- unedited, untouched, and unviewed. By the time I actually focus on the first of these "every-block" photos, I will have taken more than 8,000 images on the nearby streets of the Upper West Side -- plus another several thousand in Rome, Coney Island, and the various spots in NYC where I traditionally take photos. So I don't expect to be emotionally attached to any of the "every-block" photos, and hope that I'll be able to make an objective selection of the ones worth looking at.
As for the criteria that I've used to select the small subset of every-block photos that get uploaded to Flickr: there are three. First, I'll upload any photo that I think is "great," and where I hope the reaction of my Flickr-friends will be, "I have no idea when or where that photo was taken, but it's really a terrific picture!"
A second criterion has to do with place, and the third involves time. I'm hoping that I'll take some photos that clearly say, "This is New York!" to anyone who looks at it. Obviously, certain landscape icons like the Empire State Building or the Statue of Liberty would satisfy that criterion; but I'm hoping that I'll find other, more unexpected examples. I hope that I'll be able to take some shots that will make a "local" viewer say, "Well, even if that's not recognizable to someone from another part of the country, or another part of the world, I know that that's New York!" And there might be some photos where a "non-local" viewer might say, "I had no idea that there was anyplace in New York City that was so interesting/beautiful/ugly/spectacular."
As for the sense of time: I remember wandering around my neighborhood in 2005, photographing various shops, stores, restaurants, and business establishments -- and then casually looking at the photos about five years later, and being stunned by how much had changed. Little by little, store by store, day by day, things change … and when you've been around as long as I have, it's even more amazing to go back and look at the photos you took thirty or forty years ago, and ask yourself, "Was it really like that back then? Seriously, did people really wear bell-bottom jeans?"
So, with the expectation that I'll be looking at these every-block photos five or ten years from now (and maybe you will be, too), I'm going to be doing my best to capture scenes that convey the sense that they were taken in the year 2013 … or at least sometime in the decade of the 2010's (I have no idea what we're calling this decade yet). Or maybe they'll just say to us, "This is what it was like a dozen years after 9-11".
Movie posters are a trivial example of such a time-specific image; I've already taken a bunch, and I don't know if I'll ultimately decide that they're worth uploading. Women's fashion/styles are another obvious example of a time-specific phenomenon; and even though I'm definitely not a fashion expert, I suspected that I'll be able to look at some images ten years from now and mutter to myself, "Did we really wear shirts like that? Did women really wear those weird skirts that are short in the front, and long in the back? Did everyone in New York have a tattoo?"
Another example: I'm fascinated by the interactions that people have with their cellphones out on the street. It seems that everyone has one, which certainly wasn't true a decade ago; and it seems that everyone walks down the street with their eyes and their entire conscious attention riveted on this little box-like gadget, utterly oblivious about anything else that might be going on (among other things, that makes it very easy for me to photograph them without their even noticing, particularly if they've also got earphones so they can listen to music or carry on a phone conversation). But I can't help wondering whether this kind of social behavior will seem bizarre a decade from now … especially if our cellphones have become so miniaturized that they're incorporated into the glasses we wear, or implanted directly into our eyeballs.
If you have any suggestions about places that I should definitely visit to get some good photos, or if you'd like me to photograph you in your little corner of New York City, please let me know. You can send me a Flickr-mail message, or you can email me directly at ed-at-yourdon-dot-com
Stay tuned as the photo-walk continues, block by block ...
(more details later, as time permits)
*******************************
Another year has elapsed since I last photographed the tango dancers gathering on Pier 45 (where Christopher Street runs into the Hudson River in New York City's West Village), on the weekend before Labor Day, late-August 2014. But the sun was shining one weekend in early June of 2015, and I decided to venture down to Greenwich Village once again...
As I've mentioned in other Flickr sets, I have now met a few of the dancers at previous tango event over the past several; years, and I used to make a point of introducing myself to some of them, handing out business cards with my Flickr address so that people would be able to find these pictures without too much difficulty. But the dancers have good reason to be more interested in the music, and the movement of their partners, than a guy on the sideline with a camera -- so most of them have simply ignored me…
Altogether, I've now taken a dozen sets of tango-related photos, and you can see a thumbnail overview of them in this Flickr collection. And if you'd like to watch some other examples NYC tango dancing, check out Richard Lipkin's Guide to Argentine Tango in New York City.
Even though the dancers seem fresh and enthusiastic each time I come down here to Pier 45, I have a definite sense of deja vu: arguably, I’ve seen it all, I’ve photographed it all, I’ve heard all the tango music several times before. So I decided to do something different this time: I took all of the photos with my iPhone6+ camera. I used the “burst mode” feature on the camera-phone, so even though I took some 4,000 separate images, there were only about 400 “bursts,” and the iPhone hardware was kind enough to tell me which one or two images were reasonably sharp in each burst. From that smaller subset, I was eventually able to whittle things down to 50 images that I thought were okay for uploading to Flickr; that’s what you’ll see here.
Actually, the reason I was motivated to do all of this was not Flickr, but Instagram: for reasons that I can only assume are a stubborn testament to the “culture” of its community, Instagram insists on a “square” format, rather than the 3:2 or 4:3 aspect ratio favored by most DSLR and point-and-shoot cameras. Even worse, it insists that the photos be uploaded one-at-a-time from a mobile device. Ironically, this last restriction may prove to be too much; I’m uploading the photos to Flickr from my desktop Mac, but I don’t know if I’ll have the patience to upload them individually to Instagram…
Aside from that, I’ve concluded that the iPhone6+ is a handy little device for casual, ad hoc photos and videos; but it really doesn’t have the features I’ve come to depend on for the photos I want to publish. I won’t go into all of the technical details; chances are that you either don’t know, or don’t care, about those details. And if you do, chances are that you’ve made up your mind one way or another. As for me, I will definitely keep using the iPhone for some of my photos — especially the ones that really are casual, unplanned, ad hoc photos when I’ve got no other equipment that I can use. But with sophisticated little “pocket cameras” like the Sony RX-100 and Canon G7X, those moments are pretty rare for me … still, it was an interesting experiment.
As I've also pointed out in some previous Flickr albums, you can see a video version of the tango dancers from 2011, complete with music (which isn’t really tango music, but that’s okay), on my YouTube page; it’s here: www.youtube.com/watch?v=rqmnTQuwn54&list=UUUXim5Er2O4...
(more comments later, as time permits)
**********************************
This is a continuation of Flickr sets that I created in 2014 (shown here), 2013 (shown here)
2012 (shown here), 2011 (shown here), 2010 (shown here), 2009 (shown here), and 2008 (shown here) -- which, collectively, illustrate a variety of scenes and people in the small "pocket park" known as Verdi Square, located at 72nd Street and Broadway in New York City's Upper West Side, right by the 72nd St. IRT subway station.
I typically visit a local gym once or twice a week, and I get there by taking the downtown IRT express from my home (at 96th Street) down to the 72nd Street stop. Whenever possible, I try to schedule an extra 30-60 minutes to sit quietly on one of the park benches, and just watch the flow of people coming in and out of the park -- sometimes just passing through, to get from 72nd Street up to 73rd Street, sometimes coming down Broadway to enter the park at 73rd Street, but mostly entering or exiting the subway station.
You see all kinds of people here: students, bums, tourists (from New Jersey and from all four corners of the globe), office workers, homeless people, retired people, babysitters, children, soldiers, sanitation workers, lovers, friends, dogs, cats, pigeons, and a few things that simply defy description. Sometimes you see the same people over and over again; sometimes they follow a regular pattern at a particular time of the day, which always makes me smile — even though I never go up to them and introduce myself.
If I focus on the people coming south on Broadway, and entering the park at 73rd Street, and then continuing to walk southwards toward the subway entrance, I typically have five or ten seconds to (a) decide if they're sufficiently interesting to bother photographing,(b) wait for them to get in a position where I can get a clear shot of them, and (c) focus my camera on them and take several shots, in the hope that at least one or two of them will be well-focused and really interesting.
While you might get the impression that I photograph every single person who moves through this park, it's actually just the opposite: the overwhelming majority of people that I see here are just not all that interesting. (It's not that they're ugly, it's just that there's nothing interesting, memorable, or distinctive about them.) Even so, I might well take, say, 200 shots in the space of an hour. But some of them are repetitive or redundant, and others are blurred or out-of-focus, or technically defective in some other way. Of the ones that survive this kind of scrutiny, many turn out to be well-focused, nicely-composed, but ... well ... just "okay". I'll keep them on my computer, just in case, but I don't bother uploading them.
Typically, only about 1-2% of the photos I've taken get uploaded to Flickr -- e.g., about 5-10 photos from a one-hour session in which a thousand, or more, people have walked past me. There are some exceptions to this rule of thumb -- but in general, what you're seeing it is indeed only a tiny, tiny subset of the "real" street scene in New York City. On the other hand, it is reassuring to see that there are at least a few "interesting" people in a city that often has a reputation of being mean, cold, and heartless...
This is a composite recording the sequence around mid-eclipse of the October 14, 2023 annular eclipse of the Sun. At this eclipse the Moon was near apogee so its disk was not large enough to completely cover the Sun's photosphere and create a total eclipse.
This is a blend of 8 exposures each taken 2.25 minutes apart, about the minimum time to keep the disks separate and avoid them overlapping. The set flanks mid-eclipse, but an image taken at mid-eclipse is not included as annularity at this site lasted 3m03s, so I chose to include frames taken near the start and end of annularity showing the Moon almost tangent to the Sun.
The sequence starts about 6 minutes before the start of annularity and ends about 6 minutes after annularity concluded. The centre two frames show annularity (the Moon's disk framed completely within the Sun), while the frames on either side show the partial phases before and after.
The time sequence runs from left to right, with the Sun in the morning sky rising up and moving across the frame to the upper right. However, the Moon itself was moving slowly down across the disk of the Sun, a motion due to its orbit around the Earth, which carried it across the Sun moving down from frame to frame.
The camera did not move or track the Sun. I started the sequence with the Sun at lower left and let it move across the frame.
As such, the composite is a natural blend of frames positioned by the motion of the sky, not by an arbitrary placement in Photoshop. This is how the Sun and Moon moved during the time around mid-eclipse, as seen from my site near Bryce Canyon National Park at the Ruby's Inn Rim Overlook. This site was well south of the centreline, so the Moon moved across the top of the Sun and was not centred on the Sun at mid-eclipse.
This is a subset of frames selected from 300+ taken every 4 seconds, using a Canon RF100-400mm lens at 400mm and at f/8 for 1/60-second exposures at ISO 100 with the Canon R camera. The lens had a 67mm threaded Seymour Solar glass filter on it. Some high cirrus cloud added a bit of haze around the first Sun. But overall, the sky this morning was superb.
This is a subset of our restaurant china collection (plus 2 more, not pictured). I really like vintage restaurantware with log letters and/or a log motif.
Fred's Hickory Barbecue was a chain of restaurants in the Dallas, TX, area in the 1950's.
I've eaten at the Old Hickory House (started in 1955 with one remaining location still in business in the Atlanta area), but I don't know anything about the other two restaurants.
This was taken on the corner of Prince & Mercer Street ... down in the SoHo district of Manhattan.
***************
This set of photos is based on a very simple concept: walk every block of Manhattan with a camera, and see what happens. To avoid missing anything, walk both sides of the street.
That's all there is to it …
Of course, if you wanted to be more ambitious, you could also walk the streets of Brooklyn, Queens, Staten Island, and the Bronx. But that's more than I'm willing to commit to at this point, and I'll leave the remaining boroughs of New York City to other, more adventurous photographers.
Oh, actually, there's one more small detail: leave the photos alone for a month -- unedited, untouched, and unviewed. By the time I actually focus on the first of these "every-block" photos, I will have taken more than 8,000 images on the nearby streets of the Upper West Side -- plus another several thousand in Rome, Coney Island, and the various spots in NYC where I traditionally take photos. So I don't expect to be emotionally attached to any of the "every-block" photos, and hope that I'll be able to make an objective selection of the ones worth looking at.
As for the criteria that I've used to select the small subset of every-block photos that get uploaded to Flickr: there are three. First, I'll upload any photo that I think is "great," and where I hope the reaction of my Flickr-friends will be, "I have no idea when or where that photo was taken, but it's really a terrific picture!"
A second criterion has to do with place, and the third involves time. I'm hoping that I'll take some photos that clearly say, "This is New York!" to anyone who looks at it. Obviously, certain landscape icons like the Empire State Building or the Statue of Liberty would satisfy that criterion; but I'm hoping that I'll find other, more unexpected examples. I hope that I'll be able to take some shots that will make a "local" viewer say, "Well, even if that's not recognizable to someone from another part of the country, or another part of the world, I know that that's New York!" And there might be some photos where a "non-local" viewer might say, "I had no idea that there was anyplace in New York City that was so interesting/beautiful/ugly/spectacular."
As for the sense of time: I remember wandering around my neighborhood in 2005, photographing various shops, stores, restaurants, and business establishments -- and then casually looking at the photos about five years later, and being stunned by how much had changed. Little by little, store by store, day by day, things change … and when you've been around as long as I have, it's even more amazing to go back and look at the photos you took thirty or forty years ago, and ask yourself, "Was it really like that back then? Seriously, did people really wear bell-bottom jeans?"
So, with the expectation that I'll be looking at these every-block photos five or ten years from now (and maybe you will be, too), I'm going to be doing my best to capture scenes that convey the sense that they were taken in the year 2013 … or at least sometime in the decade of the 2010's (I have no idea what we're calling this decade yet). Or maybe they'll just say to us, "This is what it was like a dozen years after 9-11".
Movie posters are a trivial example of such a time-specific image; I've already taken a bunch, and I don't know if I'll ultimately decide that they're worth uploading. Women's fashion/styles are another obvious example of a time-specific phenomenon; and even though I'm definitely not a fashion expert, I suspected that I'll be able to look at some images ten years from now and mutter to myself, "Did we really wear shirts like that? Did women really wear those weird skirts that are short in the front, and long in the back? Did everyone in New York have a tattoo?"
Another example: I'm fascinated by the interactions that people have with their cellphones out on the street. It seems that everyone has one, which certainly wasn't true a decade ago; and it seems that everyone walks down the street with their eyes and their entire conscious attention riveted on this little box-like gadget, utterly oblivious about anything else that might be going on (among other things, that makes it very easy for me to photograph them without their even noticing, particularly if they've also got earphones so they can listen to music or carry on a phone conversation). But I can't help wondering whether this kind of social behavior will seem bizarre a decade from now … especially if our cellphones have become so miniaturized that they're incorporated into the glasses we wear, or implanted directly into our eyeballs.
If you have any suggestions about places that I should definitely visit to get some good photos, or if you'd like me to photograph you in your little corner of New York City, please let me know. You can send me a Flickr-mail message, or you can email me directly at ed-at-yourdon-dot-com
Stay tuned as the photo-walk continues, block by block ...
For Clint Heidel.
This is an iPad painting, made with a beta version of iColorama. I used one of Clint Heidel's photographs as a source to make this. Landscape imagined.
#1,499 of the subset posted to Facebook.
Peninsula Park Gazebo, Portland Oregon.
30May2020.
A subset of the Seen Series devoted to George Floyd. All scenes are from Portland's Peninsula Park, the site of the city's first organized vigil gathering for George Floyd on Friday May 29, 2020.
These iPhone photos were made the next day as people continued to show their respect and express their sorrow, anger and grief.
Seen. A series of iPhone scenes from daily walks around Portland neighborhoods with the dogs.
"Petit espace vide entre les parties d'un tout"
les tissus urbains et ruraux se maillent, raccordent, rapiècent resserrent leur trames...
Ces espaces m'intéressent car ils sont synonyme de liberté, créent un flou paradoxalement engendré par une partie finie, un ensemble fermé.
"Small space between the parts of a whole"
urban and rural network over fabrics, connect, tightening their frames ...
These areas interest me because they are means freedom, paradoxically create a blur generated by a finite subset, a closed set.
This was taken near the corner of 46th and Third Avenue
(more details later, as time permits)
***************
This set of photos is based on a very simple concept: walk every block of Manhattan with a camera, and see what happens. To avoid missing anything, walk both sides of the street.
That's all there is to it …
Of course, if you wanted to be more ambitious, you could also walk the streets of Brooklyn, Queens, Staten Island, and the Bronx. But that's more than I'm willing to commit to at this point, and I'll leave the remaining boroughs of New York City to other, more adventurous photographers.
Oh, actually, there's one more small detail: leave the photos alone for a month -- unedited, untouched, and unviewed. By the time I actually focus on the first of these "every-block" photos, I will have taken more than 8,000 images on the nearby streets of the Upper West Side -- plus another several thousand in Rome, Coney Island, and the various spots in NYC where I traditionally take photos. So I don't expect to be emotionally attached to any of the "every-block" photos, and hope that I'll be able to make an objective selection of the ones worth looking at.
As for the criteria that I've used to select the small subset of every-block photos that get uploaded to Flickr: there are three. First, I'll upload any photo that I think is "great," and where I hope the reaction of my Flickr-friends will be, "I have no idea when or where that photo was taken, but it's really a terrific picture!"
A second criterion has to do with place, and the third involves time. I'm hoping that I'll take some photos that clearly say, "This is New York!" to anyone who looks at it. Obviously, certain landscape icons like the Empire State Building or the Statue of Liberty would satisfy that criterion; but I'm hoping that I'll find other, more unexpected examples. I hope that I'll be able to take some shots that will make a "local" viewer say, "Well, even if that's not recognizable to someone from another part of the country, or another part of the world, I know that that's New York!" And there might be some photos where a "non-local" viewer might say, "I had no idea that there was anyplace in New York City that was so interesting/beautiful/ugly/spectacular."
As for the sense of time: I remember wandering around my neighborhood in 2005, photographing various shops, stores, restaurants, and business establishments -- and then casually looking at the photos about five years later, and being stunned by how much had changed. Little by little, store by store, day by day, things change … and when you've been around as long as I have, it's even more amazing to go back and look at the photos you took thirty or forty years ago, and ask yourself, "Was it really like that back then? Seriously, did people really wear bell-bottom jeans?"
So, with the expectation that I'll be looking at these every-block photos five or ten years from now (and maybe you will be, too), I'm going to be doing my best to capture scenes that convey the sense that they were taken in the year 2013 … or at least sometime in the decade of the 2010's (I have no idea what we're calling this decade yet). Or maybe they'll just say to us, "This is what it was like a dozen years after 9-11".
Movie posters are a trivial example of such a time-specific image; I've already taken a bunch, and I don't know if I'll ultimately decide that they're worth uploading. Women's fashion/styles are another obvious example of a time-specific phenomenon; and even though I'm definitely not a fashion expert, I suspected that I'll be able to look at some images ten years from now and mutter to myself, "Did we really wear shirts like that? Did women really wear those weird skirts that are short in the front, and long in the back? Did everyone in New York have a tattoo?"
Another example: I'm fascinated by the interactions that people have with their cellphones out on the street. It seems that everyone has one, which certainly wasn't true a decade ago; and it seems that everyone walks down the street with their eyes and their entire conscious attention riveted on this little box-like gadget, utterly oblivious about anything else that might be going on (among other things, that makes it very easy for me to photograph them without their even noticing, particularly if they've also got earphones so they can listen to music or carry on a phone conversation). But I can't help wondering whether this kind of social behavior will seem bizarre a decade from now … especially if our cellphones have become so miniaturized that they're incorporated into the glasses we wear, or implanted directly into our eyeballs.
If you have any suggestions about places that I should definitely visit to get some good photos, or if you'd like me to photograph you in your little corner of New York City, please let me know. You can send me a Flickr-mail message, or you can email me directly at ed-at-yourdon-dot-com
Stay tuned as the photo-walk continues, block by block ...
This was taken on Mott between Broome and Hester, in the Chinatown district of Manhattan.
***************
This set of photos is based on a very simple concept: walk every block of Manhattan with a camera, and see what happens. To avoid missing anything, walk both sides of the street.
That's all there is to it …
Of course, if you wanted to be more ambitious, you could also walk the streets of Brooklyn, Queens, Staten Island, and the Bronx. But that's more than I'm willing to commit to at this point, and I'll leave the remaining boroughs of New York City to other, more adventurous photographers.
Oh, actually, there's one more small detail: leave the photos alone for a month -- unedited, untouched, and unviewed. By the time I actually focus on the first of these "every-block" photos, I will have taken more than 8,000 images on the nearby streets of the Upper West Side -- plus another several thousand in Rome, Coney Island, and the various spots in NYC where I traditionally take photos. So I don't expect to be emotionally attached to any of the "every-block" photos, and hope that I'll be able to make an objective selection of the ones worth looking at.
As for the criteria that I've used to select the small subset of every-block photos that get uploaded to Flickr: there are three. First, I'll upload any photo that I think is "great," and where I hope the reaction of my Flickr-friends will be, "I have no idea when or where that photo was taken, but it's really a terrific picture!"
A second criterion has to do with place, and the third involves time. I'm hoping that I'll take some photos that clearly say, "This is New York!" to anyone who looks at it. Obviously, certain landscape icons like the Empire State Building or the Statue of Liberty would satisfy that criterion; but I'm hoping that I'll find other, more unexpected examples. I hope that I'll be able to take some shots that will make a "local" viewer say, "Well, even if that's not recognizable to someone from another part of the country, or another part of the world, I know that that's New York!" And there might be some photos where a "non-local" viewer might say, "I had no idea that there was anyplace in New York City that was so interesting/beautiful/ugly/spectacular."
As for the sense of time: I remember wandering around my neighborhood in 2005, photographing various shops, stores, restaurants, and business establishments -- and then casually looking at the photos about five years later, and being stunned by how much had changed. Little by little, store by store, day by day, things change … and when you've been around as long as I have, it's even more amazing to go back and look at the photos you took thirty or forty years ago, and ask yourself, "Was it really like that back then? Seriously, did people really wear bell-bottom jeans?"
So, with the expectation that I'll be looking at these every-block photos five or ten years from now (and maybe you will be, too), I'm going to be doing my best to capture scenes that convey the sense that they were taken in the year 2013 … or at least sometime in the decade of the 2010's (I have no idea what we're calling this decade yet). Or maybe they'll just say to us, "This is what it was like a dozen years after 9-11".
Movie posters are a trivial example of such a time-specific image; I've already taken a bunch, and I don't know if I'll ultimately decide that they're worth uploading. Women's fashion/styles are another obvious example of a time-specific phenomenon; and even though I'm definitely not a fashion expert, I suspected that I'll be able to look at some images ten years from now and mutter to myself, "Did we really wear shirts like that? Did women really wear those weird skirts that are short in the front, and long in the back? Did everyone in New York have a tattoo?"
Another example: I'm fascinated by the interactions that people have with their cellphones out on the street. It seems that everyone has one, which certainly wasn't true a decade ago; and it seems that everyone walks down the street with their eyes and their entire conscious attention riveted on this little box-like gadget, utterly oblivious about anything else that might be going on (among other things, that makes it very easy for me to photograph them without their even noticing, particularly if they've also got earphones so they can listen to music or carry on a phone conversation). But I can't help wondering whether this kind of social behavior will seem bizarre a decade from now … especially if our cellphones have become so miniaturized that they're incorporated into the glasses we wear, or implanted directly into our eyeballs.
If you have any suggestions about places that I should definitely visit to get some good photos, or if you'd like me to photograph you in your little corner of New York City, please let me know. You can send me a Flickr-mail message, or you can email me directly at ed-at-yourdon-dot-com
Stay tuned as the photo-walk continues, block by block ...
This was taken on Broadway 111th and 112th Street, on the Upper West Side of Manhattan.
***************
This set of photos is based on a very simple concept: walk every block of Manhattan with a camera, and see what happens. To avoid missing anything, walk both sides of the street.
That's all there is to it …
Of course, if you wanted to be more ambitious, you could also walk the streets of Brooklyn, Queens, Staten Island, and the Bronx. But that's more than I'm willing to commit to at this point, and I'll leave the remaining boroughs of New York City to other, more adventurous photographers.
Oh, actually, there's one more small detail: leave the photos alone for a month -- unedited, untouched, and unviewed. By the time I actually focus on the first of these "every-block" photos, I will have taken more than 8,000 images on the nearby streets of the Upper West Side -- plus another several thousand in Rome, Coney Island, and the various spots in NYC where I traditionally take photos. So I don't expect to be emotionally attached to any of the "every-block" photos, and hope that I'll be able to make an objective selection of the ones worth looking at.
As for the criteria that I've used to select the small subset of every-block photos that get uploaded to Flickr: there are three. First, I'll upload any photo that I think is "great," and where I hope the reaction of my Flickr-friends will be, "I have no idea when or where that photo was taken, but it's really a terrific picture!"
A second criterion has to do with place, and the third involves time. I'm hoping that I'll take some photos that clearly say, "This is New York!" to anyone who looks at it. Obviously, certain landscape icons like the Empire State Building or the Statue of Liberty would satisfy that criterion; but I'm hoping that I'll find other, more unexpected examples. I hope that I'll be able to take some shots that will make a "local" viewer say, "Well, even if that's not recognizable to someone from another part of the country, or another part of the world, I know that that's New York!" And there might be some photos where a "non-local" viewer might say, "I had no idea that there was anyplace in New York City that was so interesting/beautiful/ugly/spectacular."
As for the sense of time: I remember wandering around my neighborhood in 2005, photographing various shops, stores, restaurants, and business establishments -- and then casually looking at the photos about five years later, and being stunned by how much had changed. Little by little, store by store, day by day, things change … and when you've been around as long as I have, it's even more amazing to go back and look at the photos you took thirty or forty years ago, and ask yourself, "Was it really like that back then? Seriously, did people really wear bell-bottom jeans?"
So, with the expectation that I'll be looking at these every-block photos five or ten years from now (and maybe you will be, too), I'm going to be doing my best to capture scenes that convey the sense that they were taken in the year 2013 … or at least sometime in the decade of the 2010's (I have no idea what we're calling this decade yet). Or maybe they'll just say to us, "This is what it was like a dozen years after 9-11".
Movie posters are a trivial example of such a time-specific image; I've already taken a bunch, and I don't know if I'll ultimately decide that they're worth uploading. Women's fashion/styles are another obvious example of a time-specific phenomenon; and even though I'm definitely not a fashion expert, I suspected that I'll be able to look at some images ten years from now and mutter to myself, "Did we really wear shirts like that? Did women really wear those weird skirts that are short in the front, and long in the back? Did everyone in New York have a tattoo?"
Another example: I'm fascinated by the interactions that people have with their cellphones out on the street. It seems that everyone has one, which certainly wasn't true a decade ago; and it seems that everyone walks down the street with their eyes and their entire conscious attention riveted on this little box-like gadget, utterly oblivious about anything else that might be going on (among other things, that makes it very easy for me to photograph them without their even noticing, particularly if they've also got earphones so they can listen to music or carry on a phone conversation). But I can't help wondering whether this kind of social behavior will seem bizarre a decade from now … especially if our cellphones have become so miniaturized that they're incorporated into the glasses we wear, or implanted directly into our eyeballs.
If you have any suggestions about places that I should definitely visit to get some good photos, or if you'd like me to photograph you in your little corner of New York City, please let me know. You can send me a Flickr-mail message, or you can email me directly at ed-at-yourdon-dot-com
Stay tuned as the photo-walk continues, block by block ...
This was taken on Broadway between 112th and 113th St, on the Upper West Side of Manhattan.
***************
This set of photos is based on a very simple concept: walk every block of Manhattan with a camera, and see what happens. To avoid missing anything, walk both sides of the street.
That's all there is to it …
Of course, if you wanted to be more ambitious, you could also walk the streets of Brooklyn, Queens, Staten Island, and the Bronx. But that's more than I'm willing to commit to at this point, and I'll leave the remaining boroughs of New York City to other, more adventurous photographers.
Oh, actually, there's one more small detail: leave the photos alone for a month -- unedited, untouched, and unviewed. By the time I actually focus on the first of these "every-block" photos, I will have taken more than 8,000 images on the nearby streets of the Upper West Side -- plus another several thousand in Rome, Coney Island, and the various spots in NYC where I traditionally take photos. So I don't expect to be emotionally attached to any of the "every-block" photos, and hope that I'll be able to make an objective selection of the ones worth looking at.
As for the criteria that I've used to select the small subset of every-block photos that get uploaded to Flickr: there are three. First, I'll upload any photo that I think is "great," and where I hope the reaction of my Flickr-friends will be, "I have no idea when or where that photo was taken, but it's really a terrific picture!"
A second criterion has to do with place, and the third involves time. I'm hoping that I'll take some photos that clearly say, "This is New York!" to anyone who looks at it. Obviously, certain landscape icons like the Empire State Building or the Statue of Liberty would satisfy that criterion; but I'm hoping that I'll find other, more unexpected examples. I hope that I'll be able to take some shots that will make a "local" viewer say, "Well, even if that's not recognizable to someone from another part of the country, or another part of the world, I know that that's New York!" And there might be some photos where a "non-local" viewer might say, "I had no idea that there was anyplace in New York City that was so interesting/beautiful/ugly/spectacular."
As for the sense of time: I remember wandering around my neighborhood in 2005, photographing various shops, stores, restaurants, and business establishments -- and then casually looking at the photos about five years later, and being stunned by how much had changed. Little by little, store by store, day by day, things change … and when you've been around as long as I have, it's even more amazing to go back and look at the photos you took thirty or forty years ago, and ask yourself, "Was it really like that back then? Seriously, did people really wear bell-bottom jeans?"
So, with the expectation that I'll be looking at these every-block photos five or ten years from now (and maybe you will be, too), I'm going to be doing my best to capture scenes that convey the sense that they were taken in the year 2013 … or at least sometime in the decade of the 2010's (I have no idea what we're calling this decade yet). Or maybe they'll just say to us, "This is what it was like a dozen years after 9-11".
Movie posters are a trivial example of such a time-specific image; I've already taken a bunch, and I don't know if I'll ultimately decide that they're worth uploading. Women's fashion/styles are another obvious example of a time-specific phenomenon; and even though I'm definitely not a fashion expert, I suspected that I'll be able to look at some images ten years from now and mutter to myself, "Did we really wear shirts like that? Did women really wear those weird skirts that are short in the front, and long in the back? Did everyone in New York have a tattoo?"
Another example: I'm fascinated by the interactions that people have with their cellphones out on the street. It seems that everyone has one, which certainly wasn't true a decade ago; and it seems that everyone walks down the street with their eyes and their entire conscious attention riveted on this little box-like gadget, utterly oblivious about anything else that might be going on (among other things, that makes it very easy for me to photograph them without their even noticing, particularly if they've also got earphones so they can listen to music or carry on a phone conversation). But I can't help wondering whether this kind of social behavior will seem bizarre a decade from now … especially if our cellphones have become so miniaturized that they're incorporated into the glasses we wear, or implanted directly into our eyeballs.
If you have any suggestions about places that I should definitely visit to get some good photos, or if you'd like me to photograph you in your little corner of New York City, please let me know. You can send me a Flickr-mail message, or you can email me directly at ed-at-yourdon-dot-com
Stay tuned as the photo-walk continues, block by block ...
oblidades a les vies en el pas del temps, una autèntica ferralla plena d'història, mines de rio tinto, octubre 2010
olvidadas en las vías en el paso del tiempo, una auténtica chatarra llena de historia, minas de rio tinto, octubre 2010
forgotten the tracks in time, a true story full of scrap metal, mines tinto River, October 2010
nova web: tofercu.260mb.com
This was taken on Prince, between Mott & Elizabeth, in the SoHo district of Manhattan.
***************
This set of photos is based on a very simple concept: walk every block of Manhattan with a camera, and see what happens. To avoid missing anything, walk both sides of the street.
That's all there is to it …
Of course, if you wanted to be more ambitious, you could also walk the streets of Brooklyn, Queens, Staten Island, and the Bronx. But that's more than I'm willing to commit to at this point, and I'll leave the remaining boroughs of New York City to other, more adventurous photographers.
Oh, actually, there's one more small detail: leave the photos alone for a month -- unedited, untouched, and unviewed. By the time I actually focus on the first of these "every-block" photos, I will have taken more than 8,000 images on the nearby streets of the Upper West Side -- plus another several thousand in Rome, Coney Island, and the various spots in NYC where I traditionally take photos. So I don't expect to be emotionally attached to any of the "every-block" photos, and hope that I'll be able to make an objective selection of the ones worth looking at.
As for the criteria that I've used to select the small subset of every-block photos that get uploaded to Flickr: there are three. First, I'll upload any photo that I think is "great," and where I hope the reaction of my Flickr-friends will be, "I have no idea when or where that photo was taken, but it's really a terrific picture!"
A second criterion has to do with place, and the third involves time. I'm hoping that I'll take some photos that clearly say, "This is New York!" to anyone who looks at it. Obviously, certain landscape icons like the Empire State Building or the Statue of Liberty would satisfy that criterion; but I'm hoping that I'll find other, more unexpected examples. I hope that I'll be able to take some shots that will make a "local" viewer say, "Well, even if that's not recognizable to someone from another part of the country, or another part of the world, I know that that's New York!" And there might be some photos where a "non-local" viewer might say, "I had no idea that there was anyplace in New York City that was so interesting/beautiful/ugly/spectacular."
As for the sense of time: I remember wandering around my neighborhood in 2005, photographing various shops, stores, restaurants, and business establishments -- and then casually looking at the photos about five years later, and being stunned by how much had changed. Little by little, store by store, day by day, things change … and when you've been around as long as I have, it's even more amazing to go back and look at the photos you took thirty or forty years ago, and ask yourself, "Was it really like that back then? Seriously, did people really wear bell-bottom jeans?"
So, with the expectation that I'll be looking at these every-block photos five or ten years from now (and maybe you will be, too), I'm going to be doing my best to capture scenes that convey the sense that they were taken in the year 2013 … or at least sometime in the decade of the 2010's (I have no idea what we're calling this decade yet). Or maybe they'll just say to us, "This is what it was like a dozen years after 9-11".
Movie posters are a trivial example of such a time-specific image; I've already taken a bunch, and I don't know if I'll ultimately decide that they're worth uploading. Women's fashion/styles are another obvious example of a time-specific phenomenon; and even though I'm definitely not a fashion expert, I suspected that I'll be able to look at some images ten years from now and mutter to myself, "Did we really wear shirts like that? Did women really wear those weird skirts that are short in the front, and long in the back? Did everyone in New York have a tattoo?"
Another example: I'm fascinated by the interactions that people have with their cellphones out on the street. It seems that everyone has one, which certainly wasn't true a decade ago; and it seems that everyone walks down the street with their eyes and their entire conscious attention riveted on this little box-like gadget, utterly oblivious about anything else that might be going on (among other things, that makes it very easy for me to photograph them without their even noticing, particularly if they've also got earphones so they can listen to music or carry on a phone conversation). But I can't help wondering whether this kind of social behavior will seem bizarre a decade from now … especially if our cellphones have become so miniaturized that they're incorporated into the glasses we wear, or implanted directly into our eyeballs.
If you have any suggestions about places that I should definitely visit to get some good photos, or if you'd like me to photograph you in your little corner of New York City, please let me know. You can send me a Flickr-mail message, or you can email me directly at ed-at-yourdon-dot-com
Stay tuned as the photo-walk continues, block by block ...
(more details later, as time permits)
*******************************
Another year has elapsed since I last photographed the tango dancers gathering on Pier 45 (where Christopher Street runs into the Hudson River in New York City's West Village), on the weekend before Labor Day, late-August 2014. But the sun was shining one weekend in early June of 2015, and I decided to venture down to Greenwich Village once again...
As I've mentioned in other Flickr sets, I have now met a few of the dancers at previous tango event over the past several; years, and I used to make a point of introducing myself to some of them, handing out business cards with my Flickr address so that people would be able to find these pictures without too much difficulty. But the dancers have good reason to be more interested in the music, and the movement of their partners, than a guy on the sideline with a camera -- so most of them have simply ignored me…
Altogether, I've now taken a dozen sets of tango-related photos, and you can see a thumbnail overview of them in this Flickr collection. And if you'd like to watch some other examples NYC tango dancing, check out Richard Lipkin's Guide to Argentine Tango in New York City.
Even though the dancers seem fresh and enthusiastic each time I come down here to Pier 45, I have a definite sense of deja vu: arguably, I’ve seen it all, I’ve photographed it all, I’ve heard all the tango music several times before. So I decided to do something different this time: I took all of the photos with my iPhone6+ camera. I used the “burst mode” feature on the camera-phone, so even though I took some 4,000 separate images, there were only about 400 “bursts,” and the iPhone hardware was kind enough to tell me which one or two images were reasonably sharp in each burst. From that smaller subset, I was eventually able to whittle things down to 50 images that I thought were okay for uploading to Flickr; that’s what you’ll see here.
Actually, the reason I was motivated to do all of this was not Flickr, but Instagram: for reasons that I can only assume are a stubborn testament to the “culture” of its community, Instagram insists on a “square” format, rather than the 3:2 or 4:3 aspect ratio favored by most DSLR and point-and-shoot cameras. Even worse, it insists that the photos be uploaded one-at-a-time from a mobile device. Ironically, this last restriction may prove to be too much; I’m uploading the photos to Flickr from my desktop Mac, but I don’t know if I’ll have the patience to upload them individually to Instagram…
Aside from that, I’ve concluded that the iPhone6+ is a handy little device for casual, ad hoc photos and videos; but it really doesn’t have the features I’ve come to depend on for the photos I want to publish. I won’t go into all of the technical details; chances are that you either don’t know, or don’t care, about those details. And if you do, chances are that you’ve made up your mind one way or another. As for me, I will definitely keep using the iPhone for some of my photos — especially the ones that really are casual, unplanned, ad hoc photos when I’ve got no other equipment that I can use. But with sophisticated little “pocket cameras” like the Sony RX-100 and Canon G7X, those moments are pretty rare for me … still, it was an interesting experiment.
As I've also pointed out in some previous Flickr albums, you can see a video version of the tango dancers from 2011, complete with music (which isn’t really tango music, but that’s okay), on my YouTube page; it’s here: www.youtube.com/watch?v=rqmnTQuwn54&list=UUUXim5Er2O4...
The German-American Club of Tampa (also known as the German-American Club, the German Club, and the Deutscher-Americaner) is a historic building that opened in 1909, serving as a community space for German, German-American, and Jewish people in Ybor City, Tampa, Florida. It is one of several historic mutual aid societies in Ybor that were constructed during the city's "Golden Age." Founding members of the German-American Club included the Maas family, owners of Maas Brothers department store, and four-term Tampa mayor Herman Glogowski.
Architecture
This three-story building was designed in the Beaux Arts-style, which is a subset of the neoclassical movement in architecture. Its historic marker describes "fine classical details and proportions ... with concrete bock molded to appear as tooled stone masonry" in addition to exterior and interior Romanesque pillars.
History
The German-American Club building has served many purposes, having served for over a century as a social club, mutual aid society, Hebrew Association, community health center and more in the Tampa Heights neighborhood.
The Official History
The building is labeled with a historic marker, which was sponsored in 1998 by The City of Tampa, Ybor City Development Corporation, and Florida Department of State Secretary of State, Sandra B. Mortham. The marker reads:
Organized in 1901, the German-American Club was one of the few non-Latin ethnic clubs in Tampa. Club members laid the cornerstone for a building on the northeast corner of Nebraska Avenue and 11th Street on February 23, 1908, followed by a grand opening on January 1, 1909. Fine classical details and proportions marked the three-story building, with concrete bock molded to appear as tooled stone masonry. With a stage for speakers or theatrical productions, a swimming pool and a bowling alley, the building served Tampa's German and Jewish population until its sale in 1919. From 1919 to 1924, it housed Tampa's Labor Temple Association. The Young Men's Hebrew Association bought the building in 1924 and remained until 1944. Focusing on education and recreation for Tampa's Jewish community, the association held gym, art, and music classes, and outdoor sports and leisure activities. Various groups including an insurance company and the Hispanic organization, Los Caballeros de la Luz, occupied the building after 1944.
A Raid on the German-American Club
The historic marker leaves out a dark moment in the German-American Club's history. In 1918, on Armistice Day at the end of World War I and fueled by anti-German sentiment, locals stormed the Club and defaced it. A 1997 Tampa Bay Times article on the subject recounts:
With hammers, rifles and steel bars swinging, the neighborhood men smashed their way into the club, an elegant stone building that sits on Nebraska Avenue at the edge of Ybor City. The hooligans punched out windows. They stomped apart chairs. And then, at the peak of their anti-Kaiser fury, the rowdies ripped out the busts of famous German intellectuals that lined the club's foyer and dragged them into the street.
The event marked the end of the building's affiliation with the German population in Tampa. Tampa's German-American Club chapter moved to a new location on Rome Avenue. Shortly thereafter, in 1919, the building was sold and passed between several owners over the following decades. By 1993, the building was in a state of disrepair when the City of Tampa foreclosed on it, after its owners failed to pay maintenance fines.
Renovations and Restorations
In 1997, then-Mayor of Tampa, Dick Greco – who had taken singing lessons at the Club as a child – led an initiative to restore the German-American Club and turn it into a municipal building. In order to fund the project without burdening taxpayers, the project was turned over to the Tampa Bay Economic Development Corporation (TEDCO). It eventually became home to the Sunshine State Economic Development Corporation.
In 2019, the building took on a new purpose once more. The building was purchased by area non-profit organizations, Metro Inclusive Health and CAN Community Health, in partnership with the Capitano family. The subsequent restoration project, which was selected for a Hillsborough County Historic Preservation Challenge Grant to repair the stucco exterior façade and windows. Renovations also included the addition of an attached health center building.
Now
The German-American Club is home to area non-profit organizations, Metro Inclusive Health and CAN Community Health. These 501(c)3 healthcare organizations provide health resources with a focus on HIV testing and treatment.
NRHP - Ybor City Historic District - 74000641
(Wikipedia)
Lakes on the southern side of the Italian Alps are pictured in this early acquisition by the Sentinel-2A satellite.
Processed using the high-resolution infrared channel of the satellite’s multispectral camera, the image shows healthy vegetation in red, such as the hills and mountains in the upper part of the image.
From the top of the image we see the southern part of Lake Maggiore. Straddling the border of Italy’s Lombardy and Piedmont regions – with its northern end in Switzerland (not visible) – the lake covers an area of over 210 sq km.
Its outlet, the Ticino river, snakes south past Milan–Malpensa Airport at the bottom of the image.
Near the centre of the image is the glacial Lake Varese, appearing lighter blue compared to the other lakes in the image. This demonstrates Sentinel-2’s ability to measure differences in the conditions of inland water bodies – one of the mission’s main applications along with land cover, agriculture and forestry.
This image, also featured on the Earth from Space video programme, is a subset of Sentinel-2’s very first acquisition on 27 June 2015, just four days after launch.
The satellite is in its commissioning phase, which includes calibrating its multispectral imager. But the initial images from its first scan of Earth foreshadow the mission’s land-monitoring applications in areas such as agriculture, the monitoring of inland and coastal waters and land-cover mapping.
Credit: Copernicus Sentinel data (2015)/ESA
(more comments later, as time permits)
**********************************
This is a continuation of Flickr sets that I created in 2014 (shown here), 2013 (shown here)
2012 (shown here), 2011 (shown here), 2010 (shown here), 2009 (shown here), and 2008 (shown here) -- which, collectively, illustrate a variety of scenes and people in the small "pocket park" known as Verdi Square, located at 72nd Street and Broadway in New York City's Upper West Side, right by the 72nd St. IRT subway station.
I typically visit a local gym once or twice a week, and I get there by taking the downtown IRT express from my home (at 96th Street) down to the 72nd Street stop. Whenever possible, I try to schedule an extra 30-60 minutes to sit quietly on one of the park benches, and just watch the flow of people coming in and out of the park -- sometimes just passing through, to get from 72nd Street up to 73rd Street, sometimes coming down Broadway to enter the park at 73rd Street, but mostly entering or exiting the subway station.
You see all kinds of people here: students, bums, tourists (from New Jersey and from all four corners of the globe), office workers, homeless people, retired people, babysitters, children, soldiers, sanitation workers, lovers, friends, dogs, cats, pigeons, and a few things that simply defy description. Sometimes you see the same people over and over again; sometimes they follow a regular pattern at a particular time of the day, which always makes me smile — even though I never go up to them and introduce myself.
If I focus on the people coming south on Broadway, and entering the park at 73rd Street, and then continuing to walk southwards toward the subway entrance, I typically have five or ten seconds to (a) decide if they're sufficiently interesting to bother photographing,(b) wait for them to get in a position where I can get a clear shot of them, and (c) focus my camera on them and take several shots, in the hope that at least one or two of them will be well-focused and really interesting.
While you might get the impression that I photograph every single person who moves through this park, it's actually just the opposite: the overwhelming majority of people that I see here are just not all that interesting. (It's not that they're ugly, it's just that there's nothing interesting, memorable, or distinctive about them.) Even so, I might well take, say, 200 shots in the space of an hour. But some of them are repetitive or redundant, and others are blurred or out-of-focus, or technically defective in some other way. Of the ones that survive this kind of scrutiny, many turn out to be well-focused, nicely-composed, but ... well ... just "okay". I'll keep them on my computer, just in case, but I don't bother uploading them.
Typically, only about 1-2% of the photos I've taken get uploaded to Flickr -- e.g., about 5-10 photos from a one-hour session in which a thousand, or more, people have walked past me. There are some exceptions to this rule of thumb -- but in general, what you're seeing it is indeed only a tiny, tiny subset of the "real" street scene in New York City. On the other hand, it is reassuring to see that there are at least a few "interesting" people in a city that often has a reputation of being mean, cold, and heartless...
A subset of the Seen Series devoted to George Floyd. All scenes are from Portland's Peninsula Park, the site of the city's first organized vigil gathering for George Floyd on Friday May 29, 2020.
These iPhone photos were made the next day as people continued to show their respect and express their anger and grief.
Seen. A series of iPhone scenes from daily walks around Portland neighborhoods with the dogs.
Note: I chose this as my "photo of the day" for Jun 8, 2015.
Technically, this is not a "couple" in the familiar sense of the word. But the bond between a grandparent and grandchild (which is, I think, what we're looking at here) is a pretty special one ...
**********************************
This is a continuation of Flickr sets that I created in 2014 (shown here), 2013 (shown here)
2012 (shown here), 2011 (shown here), 2010 (shown here), 2009 (shown here), and 2008 (shown here) -- which, collectively, illustrate a variety of scenes and people in the small "pocket park" known as Verdi Square, located at 72nd Street and Broadway in New York City's Upper West Side, right by the 72nd St. IRT subway station.
I typically visit a local gym once or twice a week, and I get there by taking the downtown IRT express from my home (at 96th Street) down to the 72nd Street stop. Whenever possible, I try to schedule an extra 30-60 minutes to sit quietly on one of the park benches, and just watch the flow of people coming in and out of the park -- sometimes just passing through, to get from 72nd Street up to 73rd Street, sometimes coming down Broadway to enter the park at 73rd Street, but mostly entering or exiting the subway station.
You see all kinds of people here: students, bums, tourists (from New Jersey and from all four corners of the globe), office workers, homeless people, retired people, babysitters, children, soldiers, sanitation workers, lovers, friends, dogs, cats, pigeons, and a few things that simply defy description. Sometimes you see the same people over and over again; sometimes they follow a regular pattern at a particular time of the day, which always makes me smile — even though I never go up to them and introduce myself.
If I focus on the people coming south on Broadway, and entering the park at 73rd Street, and then continuing to walk southwards toward the subway entrance, I typically have five or ten seconds to (a) decide if they're sufficiently interesting to bother photographing,(b) wait for them to get in a position where I can get a clear shot of them, and (c) focus my camera on them and take several shots, in the hope that at least one or two of them will be well-focused and really interesting.
While you might get the impression that I photograph every single person who moves through this park, it's actually just the opposite: the overwhelming majority of people that I see here are just not all that interesting. (It's not that they're ugly, it's just that there's nothing interesting, memorable, or distinctive about them.) Even so, I might well take, say, 200 shots in the space of an hour. But some of them are repetitive or redundant, and others are blurred or out-of-focus, or technically defective in some other way. Of the ones that survive this kind of scrutiny, many turn out to be well-focused, nicely-composed, but ... well ... just "okay". I'll keep them on my computer, just in case, but I don't bother uploading them.
Typically, only about 1-2% of the photos I've taken get uploaded to Flickr -- e.g., about 5-10 photos from a one-hour session in which a thousand, or more, people have walked past me. There are some exceptions to this rule of thumb -- but in general, what you're seeing it is indeed only a tiny, tiny subset of the "real" street scene in New York City. On the other hand, it is reassuring to see that there are at least a few "interesting" people in a city that often has a reputation of being mean, cold, and heartless...
(more comments later, as time permits)
**********************************
This is a continuation of Flickr sets that I created in 2014 (shown here), 2013 (shown here)
2012 (shown here), 2011 (shown here), 2010 (shown here), 2009 (shown here), and 2008 (shown here) -- which, collectively, illustrate a variety of scenes and people in the small "pocket park" known as Verdi Square, located at 72nd Street and Broadway in New York City's Upper West Side, right by the 72nd St. IRT subway station.
I typically visit a local gym once or twice a week, and I get there by taking the downtown IRT express from my home (at 96th Street) down to the 72nd Street stop. Whenever possible, I try to schedule an extra 30-60 minutes to sit quietly on one of the park benches, and just watch the flow of people coming in and out of the park -- sometimes just passing through, to get from 72nd Street up to 73rd Street, sometimes coming down Broadway to enter the park at 73rd Street, but mostly entering or exiting the subway station.
You see all kinds of people here: students, bums, tourists (from New Jersey and from all four corners of the globe), office workers, homeless people, retired people, babysitters, children, soldiers, sanitation workers, lovers, friends, dogs, cats, pigeons, and a few things that simply defy description. Sometimes you see the same people over and over again; sometimes they follow a regular pattern at a particular time of the day, which always makes me smile — even though I never go up to them and introduce myself.
If I focus on the people coming south on Broadway, and entering the park at 73rd Street, and then continuing to walk southwards toward the subway entrance, I typically have five or ten seconds to (a) decide if they're sufficiently interesting to bother photographing,(b) wait for them to get in a position where I can get a clear shot of them, and (c) focus my camera on them and take several shots, in the hope that at least one or two of them will be well-focused and really interesting.
While you might get the impression that I photograph every single person who moves through this park, it's actually just the opposite: the overwhelming majority of people that I see here are just not all that interesting. (It's not that they're ugly, it's just that there's nothing interesting, memorable, or distinctive about them.) Even so, I might well take, say, 200 shots in the space of an hour. But some of them are repetitive or redundant, and others are blurred or out-of-focus, or technically defective in some other way. Of the ones that survive this kind of scrutiny, many turn out to be well-focused, nicely-composed, but ... well ... just "okay". I'll keep them on my computer, just in case, but I don't bother uploading them.
Typically, only about 1-2% of the photos I've taken get uploaded to Flickr -- e.g., about 5-10 photos from a one-hour session in which a thousand, or more, people have walked past me. There are some exceptions to this rule of thumb -- but in general, what you're seeing it is indeed only a tiny, tiny subset of the "real" street scene in New York City. On the other hand, it is reassuring to see that there are at least a few "interesting" people in a city that often has a reputation of being mean, cold, and heartless...
la façana de Sant Pol per la part interior, Sant Joan de les Abadeses, 2010
nova web: tofercu.260mb.com
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
"Khajuraho"
UNESCO World Heritage Site
Location Madhya Pradesh, India Edit this at Wikidata
Coordinates 24°51′08″N 79°55′20″E
Criteria Cultural: (i), (iii) Edit this on Wikidata[1]
Reference 240
Inscription 1986 (10th Session)
Khajuraho Group of Monuments is located in India
Khajuraho Group of Monuments
Location of Khajuraho Group of Monuments
[edit on Wikidata]
The Khajuraho Group of Monuments is a group of Hindu and Jain temples in Madhya Pradesh, India, about 175 kilometres (109 mi) southeast of Jhansi. They are one of the UNESCO World Heritage Sites in India.[2][3] The temples are famous for their nagara-style architectural symbolism and their erotic sculptures.[4]
Most Khajuraho temples were built between 950 and 1050 by the Chandela dynasty.[5] Historical records note that the Khajuraho temple site had 85 temples by the 12th century, spread over 20 square kilometers Of these, only about 25 temples have survived, spread over 6 square kilometers.[3] Of the various surviving temples, the Kandariya Mahadeva Temple is decorated with a profusion of sculptures with intricate details, symbolism and expressiveness of ancient Indian art.[6]
The Khajuraho group of temples were built together but were dedicated to two religions, Hinduism and Jainism, suggesting a tradition of acceptance and respect for diverse religious views among Hindus and Jains in the region.[7]
Contents
1 Location
2 History
3 Description
3.1 Architecture of the temples
4 Construction
5 Chronology
6 Arts and sculpture
7 Tourism and cultural events
8 See also
9 References
10 Further reading
11 External links
Location
The Khajuraho monuments are located in the Indian state of Madhya Pradesh, in Chhatarpur district, about 620 kilometres (385 mi) southeast of New Delhi. The temples are near a small town also known as Khajuraho,[8] with a population of about 20,000 people (2001 Census).
Khajuraho is served by Civil Aerodrome Khajuraho (IATA Code: HJR), with services to Delhi, Agra, Varanasi and Mumbai.[9] The site is also linked by the Indian Railways service, with the railway station located approximately six kilometres from the entrance to the monuments .
The monuments are about 10 kilometres off the east-west National Highway 75, and about 50 kilometres from the city of Chhatarpur, which is connected to the state capital Bhopal by the SW-NE running National Highway 86.
The 10th century Bhand Deva Temple in Rajasthan was built in the style of the Khajuraho monuments and is often referred to as 'Little Khajuraho'.
History
The Khajuraho group of monuments was built during the rule of the Chandela dynasty. The building activity started almost immediately after the rise of their power, throughout their kingdom to be later known as Bundelkhand.[10] Most temples were built during the reigns of the Hindu kings Yashovarman and Dhanga. Yashovarman's legacy is best exhibited by The Lakshmana Temple. Vishvanatha temple best highlights King Dhanga's reign.[11]:22 The largest and currently most famous surviving temple is Kandariya Mahadeva built in the reign of King Vidyadhara.[12] The temple inscriptions suggest many of the currently surviving temples were complete between 970 and 1030 CE, with further temples completed during the following decades.[7]
The Khajuraho temples were built about 35 miles from the medieval city of Mahoba,[13] the capital of the Chandela dynasty, in the Kalinjar region. In ancient and medieval literature, their kingdom has been referred to as Jijhoti, Jejahoti, Chih-chi-to and Jejakabhukti.[14]
Khajuraho was mentioned by Abu Rihan-al-Biruni, the Persian historian who accompanied Mahmud of Ghazni in his raid of Kalinjar in 1022 CE; he mentions Khajuraho as the capital of Jajahuti.[15] The raid was unsuccessful, and a peace accord was reached when the Hindu king agreed to pay a ransom to Mahmud of Ghazni to end the attack and leave.[14]
Khajuraho temples were in active use through the end of 12th century. This changed in the 13th century; after the army of Delhi Sultanate, under the command of the Muslim Sultan Qutb-ud-din Aibak, attacked and seized the Chandela kingdom. About a century later, Ibn Battuta, the Moroccan traveller in his memoirs about his stay in India from 1335 to 1342 CE, mentioned visiting Khajuraho temples, calling them "Kajarra"[16][17] as follows:
Until the 12th century, Khajuraho was under Hindu kings and featured 85 temples. Central India was seized by Delhi Sultanate in 13th century. Under Muslim rule, some temples were destroyed and the rest left in neglect. Ruins of some old temples (Ghantai temple above) are still visible.
...near (Khajuraho) temples, which contain idols that have been mutilated by the Moslems, live a number of yogis whose matted locks have grown as long as their bodies. And on account of extreme asceticism they are all yellow in colour. Many Moslems attend these men in order to take lessons (yoga) from them.
— Ibn Battuta, about 1335 CE, Riḥlat Ibn Baṭūṭah, Translated by Arthur Cotterell[18]
Central Indian region, where Khajuraho temples are, remained in the control of many different Muslim dynasties from 13th century through the 18th century. In this period, some temples were desecrated, followed by a long period when they were left in neglect.[7][10] In 1495 CE, for example, Sikandar Lodi’s campaign of temple destruction included Khajuraho.[19] The remoteness and isolation of Khajuraho protected the Hindu and Jain temples from continued destruction by Muslims.[20][21] Over the centuries, vegetation and forests overgrew, took over the temples.
In the 1830s, local Hindus guided a British surveyor, T.S. Burt, to the temples and they were thus rediscovered by the global audience.[22] Alexander Cunningham later reported, few years after the rediscovery, that the temples were secretly in use by yogis and thousands of Hindus would arrive for pilgrimage during Shivaratri celebrated annually in February or March based on a lunar calendar. In 1852, Maisey prepared earliest drawings of the Khajuraho temples.[23]
Nomenclature
The name Khajuraho, or Kharjuravāhaka, is derived from ancient Sanskrit (kharjura, खर्जूर means date palm,[24] and vāhaka, वाहक means "one who carries" or bearer[25]). Local legends state that the temples had two golden date-palm trees as their gate (missing when they were rediscovered). Desai states that Kharjuravāhaka also means scorpion bearer, which is another symbolic name for deity Shiva (who wears snakes and scorpion garlands in his fierce form).[26]
Cunningham’s nomenclature and systematic documentation work in 1850s and 1860s have been widely adopted and continue to be in use.[23] He grouped the temples into the Western group around Lakshmana, Eastern group around Javeri, and Southern group around Duladeva.[27]
Khajuraho is one of the four holy sites linked to deity Shiva (the other three are Kedarnath, Kashi and Gaya). Its origin and design is a subject of scholarly studies. Shobita Punja[28] has proposed that the temple’s origin reflect the Hindu mythology in which Khajuraho is the place where Shiva got married; with Raghuvamsha verse 5.53, Matangeshvara honoring ‘’Matanga’’, or god of love.
Description
Sections and orientation of Khajuraho temples.
The temple site is within Vindhya mountain range in central India. An ancient local legend held that Hindu deity Shiva and other gods enjoyed visiting the dramatic hill formation in Kalinjar area.[27] The center of this region is Khajuraho, set midst local hills and rivers. The temple complex reflects the ancient Hindu tradition of building temples where gods love to play.[27][29]
The temples are clustered near water, another typical feature of Hindu temples. The current water bodies include Sib Sagar, Khajur Sagar (also called Ninora Tal) and Khudar Nadi (river).[30] The local legends state that the temple complex had 64 water bodies, of which 56 have been physically identified by archeologists so far.[27][31]
All temples, except[27] one (Chaturbhuja) face sunrise - another symbolic feature that is predominant in Hindu temples. The relative layout of temples integrate masculine and feminine deities and symbols highlight the interdependence.[28] The art work symbolically highlight the four goals of life considered necessary and proper in Hinduism - dharma, kama, artha and moksha.
Of the surviving temples, 6 are dedicated to Shiva and his consorts, 8 to Vishnu and his affinities, 1 to Ganesha, 1 to Sun god, 3 to Jain Tirthankars.[27] For some ruins, there is insufficient evidence to assign the temple to specific deities with confidence.
An overall examination of site suggests that the Hindu symbolic mandala design principle of square and circles is present each temple plan and design.[32] Further, the territory is laid out in three triangles that converge to form a pentagon. Scholars suggest that this reflects the Hindu symbolism for three realms or trilokinatha, and five cosmic substances or panchbhuteshvara.[27] The temple site highlights Shiva, the one who destroys and recycles life, thereby controlling the cosmic dance of time, evolution and dissolution.[28]
The temples have a rich display of intricately carved statues. While they are famous for their erotic sculpture, sexual themes cover less than 10% of the temple sculpture.[33] Further, most erotic scene panels are neither prominent nor emphasized at the expense of the rest, rather they are in proportional balance with the non-sexual images.[34] The viewer has to look closely to find them, or be directed by a guide.[35] The arts cover numerous aspects of human life and values considered important in Hindu pantheon. Further, the images are arranged in a configuration to express central ideas of Hinduism. All three ideas from Āgamas are richly expressed in Khajuraho temples - Avyakta, Vyaktavyakta and Vyakta.[36]
The Beejamandal temple is under excavation. It has been identified with the Vaidyanath temple mentioned in the Grahpati Kokalla inscription.[37]
Of all temples, the Matangeshvara temple remains an active site of worship.[28] It is another square grid temple, with a large 2.5 metres (8.2 ft) high and 1.1 metres (3.6 ft) diameter lingam, placed on a 7.6 metres (25 ft) diameter platform.[27]
The most visited temple, Kandariya Mahadev, has an area of about 6,500 square feet and a shikhara (spire) that rises 116 feet.[10][27]
Jain temples
Main article: Jain temples of Khajuraho
The Jain temples are located on east-southeast region of Khajuraho monuments.[38] Chausath jogini temple features 64 jogini, while Ghantai temple features bells sculptured on its pillars.
Architecture of the temples
The layout plan of Kandariya Mahadeva Temple. It uses the 64 pada grid design. Smaller Khajuraho temples use the 9, 16, 36 or 49 grid mandala plan.[39]
Khajuraho temples, like almost all Hindu temple designs, follow a grid geometrical design called vastu-purusha-mandala.[40] This design plan has three important components - Mandala means circle, Purusha is universal essence at the core of Hindu tradition, while Vastu means the dwelling structure.[41]
The design lays out a Hindu temple in a symmetrical, concentrically layered, self-repeating structure around the core of the temple called garbhagriya, where the abstract principle Purusha and the primary deity of the temple dwell. The shikhara, or spire, of the temple rises above the garbhagriya. This symmetry and structure in design is derived from central beliefs, myths, cardinality and mathematical principles.[42]
The circle of mandala circumscribe the square. The square is considered divine for its perfection and as a symbolic product of knowledge and human thought, while circle is considered earthly, human and observed in everyday life (moon, sun, horizon, water drop, rainbow). Each supports the other.[29] The square is divided into perfect 64 sub-squares called padas.[40]
Most Khajuraho temples deploy the 8x8 (64) padas grid Manduka Vastupurushamandala, with pitha mandala the square grid incorporated in the design of the spires.[39] The primary deity or lingas are located in the grid’s Brahma padas.
Khajuraho temples use the 8x8 (64) Vastupurusamandala Manduka grid layout plan (left) found in Hindu temples. Above the temple’s brahma padas is a Shikhara (Vimana or Spire) that rises symmetrically above the central core, typically in a circles and turning-squares concentric layering design (right) that flows from one to the other as it rises towards the sky.[29][43]
The architecture is symbolic and reflects the central Hindu beliefs through its form, structure and arrangement of its parts.[44] The mandapas as well as the arts are arranged in the Khajuraho temples in a symmetric repeating patterns, even though each image or sculpture is distinctive in its own way. The relative placement of the images are not random but together they express ideas, just like connected words form sentences and paragraphs to compose ideas.[45] This fractal pattern that is common in Hindu temples.[46] Various statues and panels have inscriptions. Many of the inscriptions on the temple walls are poems with double meanings, something that the complex structure of Sanskrit allows in creative compositions.[26]
All Khajuraho temples, except one, face sunrise, and the entrance for the devotee is this east side.
An illustration of Khajuraho temple Spires (Shikhara, Vimana) built using concentric circle and rotating-squares principle. Four spires (left) are shown above, while the inside view of one Shikara ceiling (right) shows the symmetric layout.
Above the vastu-purusha-mandala of each temple is a superstructure with a dome called Shikhara (or Vimana, Spire).[41] Variations in spire design come from variation in degrees turned for the squares. The temple Shikhara, in some literature, is linked to mount Kailash or Meru, the mythical abode of the gods.[29]
In each temple, the central space typically is surrounded by an ambulatory for the pilgrim to walk around and ritually circumambulate the Purusa and the main deity.[29] The pillars, walls and ceilings around the space, as well as outside have highly ornate carvings or images of the four just and necessary pursuits of life - kama, artha, dharma and moksa. This clockwise walk around is called pradakshina.[41]
Larger Khajuraho temples also have pillared halls called mandapa. One near the entrance, on the east side, serves as the waiting room for pilgrims and devotees. The mandapas are also arranged by principles of symmetry, grids and mathematical precision. This use of same underlying architectural principle is common in Hindu temples found all over India.[47] Each Khajuraho temple is distinctly carved yet also repeating the central common principles in almost all Hindu temples, one which Susan Lewandowski refers to as "an organism of repeating cells".[48]
Construction
The temples are grouped into three geographical divisions: western, eastern and southern.
The Khajuraho temples are made of sandstone, with a granite foundation that is almost concealed from view.[49] The builders didn't use mortar: the stones were put together with mortise and tenon joints and they were held in place by gravity. This form of construction requires very precise joints. The columns and architraves were built with megaliths that weighed up to 20 tons.[50] Some repair work in the 19th Century was done with brick and mortar; however these have aged faster than original materials and darkened with time, thereby seeming out of place.
The Khajuraho and Kalinjar region is home to superior quality of sandstone, which can be precision carved. The surviving sculpture reflect fine details such as strands of hair, manicured nails and intricate jewelry.
While recording the television show Lost Worlds (History Channel) at Khajuraho, Alex Evans recreated a stone sculpture under 4 feet that took about 60 days to carve in an attempt to develop a rough idea how much work must have been involved.[51] Roger Hopkins and Mark Lehner also conducted experiments to quarry limestone which took 12 quarrymen 22 days to quarry about 400 tons of stone.[52] They concluded that these temples would have required hundreds of highly trained sculptors.
Chronology
The Khajuraho group of temples belong to Vaishnavism school of Hinduism, Saivism school of Hinduism and Jainism - nearly a third each. Archaeological studies suggest all three types of temples were under construction at about the same time in late 10th century, and in use simultaneously. Will Durant states that this aspect of Khajuraho temples illustrates the tolerance and respect for different religious viewpoints in the Hindu and Jain traditions.[53] In each group of Khajuraho temples, there were major temples surrounded by smaller temples - a grid style that is observed to varying degrees in Hindu temples in Angkor Wat, Parambaran and South India.
The largest surviving Saiva temple is Khandarya Mahadeva, while the largest surviving Vaishnava group includes Chaturbhuja and Ramachandra.
Kandariya Mahadeva Temple plan is 109 ft in length by 60 ft, and rises 116 ft above ground and 88 ft above its own floor. The central padas are surrounded by three rows of sculptured figures, with over 870 statues, most being half life size (2.5 to 3 feet). The spire is a self repeating fractal structure.
Temples, religious affiliations and consecration years
Sequence Modern Temple name Religion Deity Completed by
(CE)[27][54] Image
1 Chausath Yogini Hinduism Devi, 64 Yoginis 885 Khajuraho,Chausath-Yogini-Tempel2.jpg
2 Brahma Hinduism Vishnu 925
3 Lalgun Mahadev Hinduism Shiva 900 India-5696 - Flickr - archer10 (Dennis).jpg
4 Matangeshwar Hinduism Shiva 1000 India-5772 - Flickr - archer10 (Dennis).jpg
5 Varaha Hinduism Vishnu 950 India-5595 - Flickr - archer10 (Dennis).jpg
6 Lakshmana Hinduism Vaikuntha Vishnu 939 India-5679 - Flickr - archer10 (Dennis).jpg
7 Parshvanatha Jainism Parshvanatha 954 Le temple de Parshvanath (Khajuraho) (8638423582).jpg
8 Vishvanatha Hinduism Shiva 999 India-5749 - Visvanatha Temple - Flickr - archer10 (Dennis).jpg
9 Devi Jagadambi Hinduism Devi, Parvati 1023 Khajuraho Devi Jagadambi Temple 2010.jpg
10 Chitragupta Hinduism Sun, Chitragupta 1023 India-5707 - Flickr - archer10 (Dennis).jpg
11 Kandariya Mahadeva (Largest temple) Hinduism Shiva 1029 Temple at Khajuraho, Madhya Pradesh, India.jpg
12 Vamana Hinduism Vamana 1062 Khajuraho Vaman Temple 2010.jpg
13 Adinath Jain Temple Jainism Adinatha 1027 Adinath Jain Temple Khajuraho 12.jpg
14 Javeri Hinduism Vishnu 1090 Javari Temple, Khajuraho.jpg
15 Chaturbhuja Hinduism Vishnu 1110 Khajuraho Chaturbhuja Temple.jpg
16 Duladeo (Duladeva) Hinduism Shiva 1125 Khajuraho Dulhadeo 2010.jpg
17 Ghantai Jainism Adinatha 960 A ruin, pillars at Khajuraho, India.jpg
18 Vishnu-Garuda Hinduism Vishnu 1000
19 Ganesha Hinduism Shiva 1000
20 Hanuman Hinduism Hanuman 922[55] Hanuman Inscription at Khajuraho.jpg
21 Mahishasuramardini Hinduism Mahishasuramardini 995 Khajuraho India, Lakshman Temple, Sculpture 10.JPG
22 Shantinatha temple Jainism Shantinatha 1027 Jain group of temples - Khajuraho 09.jpg
Arts and sculpture
Khajuraho temples are famous for their erotic arts. These constitute about 10% of total art displayed at the monuments.
Erotic sculptures
The Khajuraho temples feature a variety of art work, of which 10% is sexual or erotic art outside and inside the temples. Some of the temples that have two layers of walls have small erotic carvings on the outside of the inner wall. Some scholars suggest these to be tantric sexual practices.[56] Other scholars state that the erotic arts are part of Hindu tradition of treating kama as an essential and proper part of human life, and its symbolic or explicit display is common in Hindu temples.[6][57] James McConnachie, in his history of the Kamasutra, describes the sexual-themed Khajuraho sculptures as "the apogee of erotic art":
"Twisting, broad-hipped and high breasted nymphs display their generously contoured and bejewelled bodies on exquisitely worked exterior wall panels. These fleshy apsaras run riot across the surface of the stone, putting on make-up, washing their hair, playing games, dancing, and endlessly knotting and unknotting their girdles....Beside the heavenly nymphs are serried ranks of griffins, guardian deities and, most notoriously, extravagantly interlocked maithunas, or lovemaking couples."
Over 90% of the art work at the temple is about daily life and symbolic values in ancient Indian culture.
The temples have several thousand statues and art works, with Kandarya Mahadeva Temple alone decorated with over 870. Some 10% of these iconographic carvings contain sexual themes and various sexual poses. A common misconception is that, since the old structures with carvings in Khajuraho are temples, the carvings depict sex between deities;[58] however the kama arts represent diverse sexual expressions of different human beings.[59] The vast majority of arts depict various aspects the everyday life, mythical stories as well as symbolic display of various secular and spiritual values important in Hindu tradition.[3][6] For example, depictions show women putting on makeup, musicians making music, potters, farmers, and other folks in their daily life during the medieval era.[60] These scenes are in the outer padas as is typical in Hindu temples.
There is iconographic symbolism embedded in the arts displayed in Khajuraho temples.[6] Core Hindu values are expressed in multitude of ways. Even the Kama scenes, when seen in combination of sculptures that precede and follow, depict the spiritual themes such as moksha. In the words of Stella Kramrisch,
This state which is “like a man and woman in close embrace” is a symbol of moksa, final release or reunion of two principles, the essence (Purusha) and the nature (Prakriti).
— Stella Kramrisch, 1976[29]
The Khajuraho temples represent one expression of many forms of arts that flourished in Rajput kingdoms of India from 8th through 10th century CE. For example, contemporary with Khajuraho were the publications of poems and drama such as Prabodhacandrodaya, Karpuramanjari, Viddhasalabhanjika and Kavyamimansa.[61] Some of the themes expressed in these literary works are carved as sculpture in Khajuraho temples.[26][62] Some sculptures at the Khajuraho monuments dedicated to Vishnu include the Vyalas, which are hybrid imaginary animals with lions body, and are found in other Indian temples.[63] Some of these hybrid mythical art work include Vrik Vyala (hybrid of wolf and lion) and Gaja Vyala (hybrid of elephant and lion). These Vyalas may represent syncretic, creative combination of powers innate in the two.[64]
Tourism and cultural events
Temples layout map – Khajuraho Group of Monuments.
The temples in Khajuraho are broadly divided into three parts : the Eastern group, the Southern Group and the Western group of temples of which the Western group alone has the facility of an Audio guided tour wherein the tourists are guided through the seven eight temples. There is also an audio guided tour developed by the Archaeological Survey of India which includes a narration of the temple history and architecture.[65]
The Khajuraho Dance Festival is held every year in February.[66] It features various classical Indian dances set against the backdrop of the Chitragupta or Vishwanath Temples.
The Khajuraho temple complex offers a light and sound show every evening. The first show is in English language and the second one in Hindi. It is held in the open lawns in the temple complex, and has received mixed reviews.
The Madhya Pradesh Tourism Development has set up kiosks at the Khajuraho railway station, with tourist officers to provide information for Khajuraho visitors.
See also
List of megalithic sites
Jain temples of Khajuraho
Ajanta Caves
Badami Chalukya architecture
Western Chalukya architecture
Hindu temple
Madan Kamdev
Hemvati
Kama Sutra
Kamashastra
The Kandariya Mahadeva Temple (Devanagari: कंदारिया महादेव मंदिर, Kaṇḍāriyā Mahādeva Mandir), meaning "the Great God of the Cave", is the largest and most ornate Hindu temple in the medieval temple group found at Khajuraho in Madhya Pradesh, India. It is considered one of the best examples of temples preserved from the medieval period in India.
Contents
1 Location
2 History
3 Features
4 References
5 Bibliography
6 Further reading
7 External links
Location
Temples layout map of Khajuraho Group of Monuments: Kandariya Mahadeva Temple is in the western group
Kaṇḍāriyā Mahādeva Temple is located in the Chhatarpur district of Madhya Pradesh in Central India.[1] It is in the Khajuraho village, and the temple complex is spread over an area of 6 square kilometres (2.3 sq mi).[2] It is in the western part of the village to the west of the Vishnu temple.[3][4]
The temple complex, in the Khajuraho village at an elevation of 282 metres (925 ft), is well connected by road, rail and air services. Khajuraho is 55 kilometres (34 mi) to the south of Mahoba, 47 kilometres (29 mi) away from the Chhatarpur city to its east, 43 kilometres (27 mi) away from Panna, 175 kilometres (109 mi) by road away from Jhansi on the north, and 600 kilometres (370 mi) to the south - east of Delhi. It is 9 kilometres (5.6 mi) from the railway station.[1][5] Khajuraho is served by Khajuraho Airport (IATA Code: HJR), with services to Delhi, Agra and Mumbai. It is 6 kilometres (3.7 mi) from the temple.[5][6]
History
Khajuraho was once the capital of the Chandela dynasty. The Kandariya Mahadeva Temple, one of the best examples of temples preserved from the medieval period in India,[1][7] is the largest of the western group of temples in the Khajuraho complex which was built by the Chandela rulers. Shiva is the chief deity in the temple deified in the sanctum sanctorium.[8]
The Kandariya Mahadeva temples was built during the reign of Vidyadhara (r. c. 1003-1035 CE).[9] At various periods of the reign of this dynasty many famous temples dedicated to Vishnu, Shiva, Surya, Shakti of the Hindu religion and also for the Thirthankaras of Jain religion were built. Vidhyadhara, also known as Bida in the recordings of the Muslim historian Ibn-al-Athir, who is credited with building the Kaṇḍāriyā Mahādeva Temple, was a powerful ruler who fought Mahmud of Ghazni in the first offensive launched by the latter in 1019.[1] This battle was not conclusive and Mahmud had to return to Ghazni. Mahmud again waged war against Vidhyadhara in 1022. He attacked the fort of Kalinjar.[1] The siege of the fort was unsuccessful. It was lifted and Mahmud and Vidhyadhara called a truce and parted by exchanging gifts. Vidhyadhara celebrated his success over Mahmud and other rulers by building the Kaṇḍāriyā Mahādeva Temple, dedicated to his family deity Shiva. Epigraphic inscriptions on a pilaster of the mandapa in the temple mentions the name of the builder of the temple as Virimda, which is interpreted as the pseudonym of Vidhyadhara.[1] Its construction is dated to the period from 1025 and 1050 AD.[4]
All the extant temples including the Kandariya Mahadeva Temple were inscribed in 1986 under the UNESCO List of World Heritage Sites under Criterion III for its artistic creation and under Criterion V for the culture of the Chandelas that was popular till the country was invaded by Muslims in 1202.[10][11]
Features
Various features of the temple marked on the Kandariya Mahadeo Temple.
Simplified map of the temple
The Kandariya Mahadeva Temple, 31 metres (102 ft) in height, is in the western complex, which is the largest among the three groups of the Khajuraho complex of temples.[12] This western group of temples, consisting of the Kandariya, Matangeshwara and Vishvanatha temples, is compared to a "cosmic design of a hexagon (a yantra or Cosmo gram)" representing the three forms of Shiva.[5] The temple architecture is an assemblage of porches and towers which terminates in a shikhara or spire, a feature which was common from the 10th century onwards in the temples of Central India.[12]
The temple is founded on a massive plinth of 4 metres (13 ft) height.[13] The temple structure above the plinth is dexterously planned and pleasingly detailed.[14] The superstructure is built in a steep mountain shape or form, symbolic of Mount Meru which is said to be the mythical source of creation of the world.[8] The superstructure has richly decorated roofs which rise in a grand form terminating in the shikara, which has 84 miniature spires.[4] The temple is in layout of 6 square kilometres (2.3 sq mi), of which 22 are extant including the Kaṇḍāriyā Mahādeva Temple. This temple is characteristically built over a plan of 31 metres (102 ft) in length and 20 metres (66 ft) in width with the main tower soaring to a height of 31 metres (102 ft), and is called the "largest and grandest temple of Khajuraho".[2][14][15] A series of steep steps with high rise lead from the ground level to the entrance to the temple.[16] The layout of the temple is a five-part design, a commonality with the Lakshmana and Vishvanatha temples in the Khajuraho complex. Right at the entrance there is torana, a very intricately carved garland which is sculpted from a single stone; such entrances are part of a Hindu wedding procession.[4] The carvings on the entrance gate shows the "tactile quality of the stone and also the character of the symmetrical design" that is on view in the entire temple which has high relief carvings of the figurines. Finely chiseled, the decorative quality of the ornamentation with the sharp inscribed lines has "strong angular forms and brilliant dark-light patterns". The carvings are of circles, undulations giving off spirals or sprays, geometric patterns, masks of lions and other uniform designs which has created a pleasant picture that is unique to this temple, among all others in the complex.[14]
The main temple tower with 84 mini spires
Erotic sculptures on the external walls of the temple
In the interior space from the entrance there are three mandapas or halls, which successively rise in height and width, which is inclusive of a small chamber dedicated to Shiva, a chamber where Shiva's wife, Parvati is deified, and a central sanctum or garbhagriha (literal meaning "womb chamber") where the Shiva linga, the phallic emblem of Shiva is deified. The sanctum sanctorum is surrounded by interlinked passages which also have side and front balconies. Due to inadequate natural light in the balconies the sanctum has very little light thus creating a "cave like atmosphere" which is in total contrast to the external parts of the temple.[4][13][17][18] In the interior halls of the temple and on its exterior faces there are elaborately carved sculptures of gods and goddesses, musicians and apsaras or nymphs.[4] The huge pillars of the halls have architectural features of the "vine or scroll motif". In the corners of the halls there are insets which are carved on the surface with incised patterns.[14] There is a main tower above the sanctum and there are two other towers above the other mantapas also in the shape of "semi-rounded, stepped, pyramidal form with progressively greater height". The main tower is encircled by a series of interlinked towers and spires of smaller size.[19] These are in the form of a repeated subset of miniature spires that abut a central core which gives the temple an unevenly cut contour similar to the shape of a mountain range of mount Kailasa of the Himalayas where god Shiva resides, which is appropriate to the theme of the temples here.[18]
The exterior surfaces of the temples are entirely covered with sculptures in three vertical layers.[4] Here, there are horizontal ribbons carved with images, which shine bright in the sun light, providing rhythmic architectural features. Among the images of gods and heavenly beings, Agni, the god of fire is prominent.[14] They are niches where erotic sculptures are fitted all round which are a major attraction among visitors. Some of these erotic sculptures are very finely carved and are in mithuna (coitus) postures with maidens flanking the couple, which is a frequently noted motif. There is also a "male figure suspended upside" in coitus posture, a kind of yogic pose, down on his head.[4] The niches also have sculptures of Saptamatrikas, the septad of mother goddesses along with the gods Ganesha and Virabhadra. The seven fearful protector goddesses include: Brahmi seated on a swan of Brahma; Maheshwari with three eyes seated on Shiva's bull Nandi; Kumari; Vaishnavi mounted on Garuda; the boar-headed Varahi; the lion-headed Narasimhi and Chamunda, the slayer of demons Chanda and Munda.[4]
I took at least a dozen interesting photos of this mother and her two kids -- and all of them were interesting. After seeing the positive reaction the first such photo, from my loyal Flickr followers, I decided to upload the other ones too ...
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This is a continuation of Flickr sets that I created in 2014 (shown here), 2013 (shown here) 2012 (shown here), 2011 (shown here), 2010 (shown here), 2009 (shown here), and 2008 (shown here) -- which, collectively, illustrate a variety of scenes and people in the small "pocket park" known as Verdi Square, located at 72nd Street and Broadway in New York City's Upper West Side, right by the 72nd St. IRT subway station.
I typically visit a local gym once or twice a week, and I get there by taking the downtown IRT express from my home (at 96th Street) down to the 72nd Street stop. Whenever possible, I try to schedule an extra 30-60 minutes to sit quietly on one of the park benches, and just watch the flow of people coming in and out of the park -- sometimes just passing through, to get from 72nd Street up to 73rd Street, sometimes coming down Broadway to enter the park at 73rd Street, but mostly entering or exiting the subway station.
You see all kinds of people here: students, bums, tourists (from New Jersey and from all four corners of the globe), office workers, homeless people, retired people, babysitters, children, soldiers, sanitation workers, lovers, friends, dogs, cats, pigeons, and a few things that simply defy description. Sometimes you see the same people over and over again; sometimes they follow a regular pattern at a particular time of the day, which always makes me smile — even though I never go up to them and introduce myself.
If I focus on the people coming south on Broadway, and entering the park at 73rd Street, and then continuing to walk southwards toward the subway entrance, I typically have five or ten seconds to (a) decide if they're sufficiently interesting to bother photographing,(b) wait for them to get in a position where I can get a clear shot of them, and (c) focus my camera on them and take several shots, in the hope that at least one or two of them will be well-focused and really interesting.
While you might get the impression that I photograph every single person who moves through this park, it's actually just the opposite: the overwhelming majority of people that I see here are just not all that interesting. (It's not that they're ugly, it's just that there's nothing interesting, memorable, or distinctive about them.) Even so, I might well take, say, 200 shots in the space of an hour. But some of them are repetitive or redundant, and others are blurred or out-of-focus, or technically defective in some other way. Of the ones that survive this kind of scrutiny, many turn out to be well-focused, nicely-composed, but ... well ... just "okay". I'll keep them on my computer, just in case, but I don't bother uploading them.
Typically, only about 1-2% of the photos I've taken get uploaded to Flickr -- e.g., about 5-10 photos from a one-hour session in which a thousand, or more, people have walked past me. There are some exceptions to this rule of thumb -- but in general, what you're seeing it is indeed only a tiny, tiny subset of the "real" street scene in New York City. On the other hand, it is reassuring to see that there are at least a few "interesting" people in a city that often has a reputation of being mean, cold, and heartless...
When I surveyed the crowded scene around me and prepared to take this photo, I was focusing on the couple walking south on Sixth Avenue, having noticed them primarily because of the bright green colors of the woman’s costume, and her fresh-faced smile. I paid no attention to anyone else in the scene, and did not look at the individuals at all until I had uploaded the image from my camera to the computer. (Unlike some photographers, I almost never bother looking at an image on my computer, because I’m too busy looking for the next scene to capture. On the other hand, I’m not as extreme as famous people like Garry Winogrand, who died with thousands of rolls of unprocessed film, because he was so busy moving on to the next photo-op that he could not be bothered to look at anything he had already photographed. I do look at my images … it just takes a while.)
In any case, it was only after I had uploaded the entire collection of images from that Halloween afternoon (over 1,000 of them) that I noticed the young boy that I had captured on the left side of my photograph. This kind of situation happens to me all the time, and I still feel guilty sometimes that I had not paid attention as I was composing, framing, and shooting the scene — what if I had swung my camera a little to the right, and inadvertently chopped off half of the boy’s body?
But I don’t get too concerned about situations like this, because I’ve come to accept that in a crowded street scene, with lots of people moving around in all directions, it’s simply not practical to focus carefully on everything at the same time. Whether I like it or not, my brain is focusing on the few things that I’ve already decided are “significant” — in this case, the guy with the hooded jacket, and his green-costumed companion — and it tunes out everything else. Indeed, this has little or nothing to do with photography: the human brain is extremely adept at tuning out “noise” and distractions in a crowded scene, perhaps having developed the technique as a survival mechanism eons ago.
The annoying thing is that while I’m very conscious of people (or taxis or buses, etc.) that might step in front of my camera, and get between me and the subject, I don’t pay enough attention to the distractions immediately behind the subject — such as the two or three people behind this couple. For the distractions in front of my intended subjects, the solution(s) are simple: either wait until they get out of the way, or take a dozen shots in quick succession, using the “burst” mode feature available in modern cameras, and then select the image(s) before or after the distraction has arrived on the scene. I could do the same thing with the distractions behind the subject, too … but only if I paid attention to them, which I typically do not.
I can’t always guarantee, of course, that there will be anything else interesting in the picture (besides the “main” subjects that motivated the shot in the first place), but sometimes the “unexpected surprises” turn out to be far more interesting than the “official” subject. That wasn’t quite true for this particular photos; but I certainly did find myself focusing on the details of the young boy in the picture — someone whose very existence I had ignored completely when I was composing the shot in the first place.
Here are some of the questions that occurred to me:
1. How old is the boy? He looks to be 11-12 — obviously not fully grown, and arguably not even a teenager yet.
2. In which case: why is he allowed out on the street alone, without a parent or older sibling? Maybe that’s common now in NYC or other big cities; and I guess my kids would have been pushing for such independence, too, at that age.
3. On the other hand, it was Halloween, and one could expect all kinds of strange things on the street. But it was also broad daylight, in the middle of Greenwich Village … but how does a parent know whether his kid will resist whatever temptation might exist to wander off into more dangerous areas?
4. Note that the boy is carrying a full-size mobile phone. How common is that in today’s world?
5. What’s in the green bag? Did the boy actually collect that much candy in his “trick or treat” activities?
6. In addition to the upper-body part of the costume he’s wearing, is there also a facial mask that he decided to pull off?
7. What’s the story with the shoes? Yes, I know that almost everyone (or so it seems) has brightly-colored shoes these days (gym shoes? track shoes? running shoes? jogging shoes? what do we call these things when they are being worn as “every-day” shoes that have never seen the inside of a gym)
8. etc, etc, etc.
Note: I chose this as my "photo of the day" for Nov 20, 2015.
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A year ago, I uploaded a bunch of photos to Flickr and admitted that while I had lived in New York City for 45 years — I had never previously attended, observed, photographed, or participated in the annual Halloween Parade that takes place in Greenwich Village. I won’t repeat the rest of the meandering blather that I wrote … if you would like to see it, and/or the photos that accompanied the notes, you can find them here on Flickr:
www.flickr.com/photos/yourdon/albums/72157646748393453
In any case, though, I decided to return to the parade again this year … and, like last year, I got off the subway at the Canal Street (express) station, and walked north to where the cops and the parade-floats, the bands and the professional photographers were gathering in anticipation of another year of festivity.
But I quickly discovered that, while last year’s parade started at 7 PM, when it was already cold and dark, this year’s parade was not scheduled to get started until 9 PM. I realize that 9 PM is quite an early hour for ghouls and vampires, not to mention teenagers, young adults, party-goers, and even the majority of the bridge-and-tunnel crowd who were presumably just getting in their trains and buses to make the trek from the wilderness regions of Long Island and New Jersey. But for those of us slightly (ahem) older than the age of 35, 9 PM is about the time when we turn on last night’s video-recording of Jimmy Fallon or Trevor Noah, and watch in a glassy-eyed stupor for a few minutes before we begin snoring …
So … I decided not to hang around the official starting position at Spring Street for two or three hours, and instead began wandering further north into the more crowded sections of the West Village — near West 4th Street. And I’m glad I did: while there were no bands or “fancy” displays, there was a lot more energy, and a lot of interesting costumes and people (or ghouls and vampires, depending on your preferences).
The only outcasts, far more confused and lost than the out-of-town tourists, were the cops. There were hundreds of them, maybe thousands; and this was two weeks before the recent terrorist attacks, with nobody expecting any trouble more serious than an occasional happy drunkard falling over in the street. Most of the cops that I saw were somehow affiliated with a “Community Affairs” department (or division, or whatever); but what made it funny is that none of them seemed to have a clue where they were. At one point, I stood near a friendly, attentive police officer at the corner of Sixth Avenue and 8th Street — when a tourist (sounding like he was from Germany) wandered up and asked the cop for directions to 9th Street. The cop shrugged politely and said that he really didn’t know — despite the fact that the street sign for 9th Street was clearly visible, less than a block away. I got the impression that the cops had been brought in from such far-away areas as Staten Island, Queens, and the Bronx; and while they could have navigated the neatly-rectangularized streets of mid-town Manhattan, they were utterly lost in Greenwich Village.
Oh, well, it didn’t matter. I watched one woman emerge from the subway, reassuring her clearly-terrified friend, “Don’t worry, I’ll get you back to New Jersey safely. I promise!” But she took one look at the wildly-costumed crowd around her, near the Waverly Theater, let out a loud “Woo hoo!” squeal, and left her friend behind….
In the midst of all this, I did manage to get some photos … and I’ve uploaded a small subset of them here to Flickr. Enjoy …
This was taken somewhere on Prince Street, in the SoHo district of Manhattan. I apologize, but I really wasn't paying enough attention to where I was ... I was mesmerized by the boots and stuff ...
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This set of photos is based on a very simple concept: walk every block of Manhattan with a camera, and see what happens. To avoid missing anything, walk both sides of the street.
That's all there is to it …
Of course, if you wanted to be more ambitious, you could also walk the streets of Brooklyn, Queens, Staten Island, and the Bronx. But that's more than I'm willing to commit to at this point, and I'll leave the remaining boroughs of New York City to other, more adventurous photographers.
Oh, actually, there's one more small detail: leave the photos alone for a month -- unedited, untouched, and unviewed. By the time I actually focus on the first of these "every-block" photos, I will have taken more than 8,000 images on the nearby streets of the Upper West Side -- plus another several thousand in Rome, Coney Island, and the various spots in NYC where I traditionally take photos. So I don't expect to be emotionally attached to any of the "every-block" photos, and hope that I'll be able to make an objective selection of the ones worth looking at.
As for the criteria that I've used to select the small subset of every-block photos that get uploaded to Flickr: there are three. First, I'll upload any photo that I think is "great," and where I hope the reaction of my Flickr-friends will be, "I have no idea when or where that photo was taken, but it's really a terrific picture!"
A second criterion has to do with place, and the third involves time. I'm hoping that I'll take some photos that clearly say, "This is New York!" to anyone who looks at it. Obviously, certain landscape icons like the Empire State Building or the Statue of Liberty would satisfy that criterion; but I'm hoping that I'll find other, more unexpected examples. I hope that I'll be able to take some shots that will make a "local" viewer say, "Well, even if that's not recognizable to someone from another part of the country, or another part of the world, I know that that's New York!" And there might be some photos where a "non-local" viewer might say, "I had no idea that there was anyplace in New York City that was so interesting/beautiful/ugly/spectacular."
As for the sense of time: I remember wandering around my neighborhood in 2005, photographing various shops, stores, restaurants, and business establishments -- and then casually looking at the photos about five years later, and being stunned by how much had changed. Little by little, store by store, day by day, things change … and when you've been around as long as I have, it's even more amazing to go back and look at the photos you took thirty or forty years ago, and ask yourself, "Was it really like that back then? Seriously, did people really wear bell-bottom jeans?"
So, with the expectation that I'll be looking at these every-block photos five or ten years from now (and maybe you will be, too), I'm going to be doing my best to capture scenes that convey the sense that they were taken in the year 2013 … or at least sometime in the decade of the 2010's (I have no idea what we're calling this decade yet). Or maybe they'll just say to us, "This is what it was like a dozen years after 9-11".
Movie posters are a trivial example of such a time-specific image; I've already taken a bunch, and I don't know if I'll ultimately decide that they're worth uploading. Women's fashion/styles are another obvious example of a time-specific phenomenon; and even though I'm definitely not a fashion expert, I suspected that I'll be able to look at some images ten years from now and mutter to myself, "Did we really wear shirts like that? Did women really wear those weird skirts that are short in the front, and long in the back? Did everyone in New York have a tattoo?"
Another example: I'm fascinated by the interactions that people have with their cellphones out on the street. It seems that everyone has one, which certainly wasn't true a decade ago; and it seems that everyone walks down the street with their eyes and their entire conscious attention riveted on this little box-like gadget, utterly oblivious about anything else that might be going on (among other things, that makes it very easy for me to photograph them without their even noticing, particularly if they've also got earphones so they can listen to music or carry on a phone conversation). But I can't help wondering whether this kind of social behavior will seem bizarre a decade from now … especially if our cellphones have become so miniaturized that they're incorporated into the glasses we wear, or implanted directly into our eyeballs.
If you have any suggestions about places that I should definitely visit to get some good photos, or if you'd like me to photograph you in your little corner of New York City, please let me know. You can send me a Flickr-mail message, or you can email me directly at ed-at-yourdon-dot-com
Stay tuned as the photo-walk continues, block by block ...
In early May I took a couple day trip to Appalachia in North Carolina/East Tennessee. It is actually closer than the GA coast for me, and unlike many 'listers' I have no allegiance to state lines as far as bird photography goes. After all there is an amazing array of habitats and species within a short 4-5 hour drive. It is a lot of fun to venture into habitat that is seldom birded, and 'find' birds such as this one.
Some observers have thought that the subset of this species that breeds in Appalachia amongst rhododendron, and flowing streams has less rich browns, and is not as creamy below, as compared to the subset that breeds in swampy areas with cane. Based on my limited experience with this species, and birds that I have photographed in both type habitats I have thus far found this to be true (3 birds photographed in appalachia and 2 in swamp). Many others state geography doesn't effect the coloration, as birds of both type colorings can be found thru out the entire range (from Dunn, Warblers, Peterson Field Guide).
Below in first comment box is a bird from earlier this spring from swampy habitat in the Macon, GA area.