Sunset Behind Mission San Xavier del Bac

Founded in 1692 by Padre Eusebio Francisco Kino, a Spanish Jesuit spreading the word of God in the “new world”, Mission San Xavier del Bac is the oldest European building in Arizona still in use today. It has been affectionately nicknamed the “White Dove of the Desert” for its striking whitewash walls and graceful beauty set against the beautiful hues of the Sonoran Desert. Protected from vandalism by the local Pima and Tohono O’odham Indians for over 200 years, even the attacking Apaches left the “White Dove” untouched. As beautiful as the outside of the mission is, the interior is equally impressive. Due to both the sanctity of the place and the fragility of the 200 year-old frescoes, photography is not permitted inside. Yet another incentive to go see this unique Arizona landmark for yourself!
Being one of the most photographed buildings in Arizona, I was faced with the challenge of finding a new and unique perspective. Drawing from its nickname, I also wanted to show the mission’s setting in the desert. I climbed to the top of the hill on the Eastern side of the mission, which lends itself to great panoramas of the mission and surrounding desert. Shooting during the “golden hour” of dusk, I noticed that the sun’s trajectory would place it right behind the mission by the time it reached the horizon. Having lived in Tucson for three years during college, and knowing that Tucson has some of the best sunsets on the planet, I was definitely going to see how this one played out. I found the perfect spot for my tripod that placed the sun directly behind the main dome of the mission for the added halo effect, waited for the colors to peak and simply did what I enjoy doing the most.

Monsoon Season

Well, we finally got our first good monsoon storm the other night here in Phoenix and with it some much needed moisture here in the desert! Even though, the Sonoran Desert gets quite a bit of rainfall (when compared to other deserts of the world) and flash floods are a legitimate danger, I always have to laugh a bit when using the term "monsoon" in Phoenix. Anyway, it got me thinking about some of the incredible downpours I experienced while in Southeast Asia. You know the type, the daily deluge you see in every Vietnam War movie ever made. Trust me, there were times this boy from the desert wanted to start building an arc and gathering animals two by two! O.K. so that's a slight exaggeration but like everything else in Southeast Asia it was completely foreign to me at first. Hence, I loved it! And, like most things foreign to me, it inspired me to shoot and learn all the more.

Wading knee deep in flood water through the streets of Hoi An, Vietnam paid off when I made this photograph at what was a busy intersection only hours prior. Actually, for the people of Hoi An, scenes like this are as familiar as the colors of Fall would be to New Englanders; it's just another season. Hoi An's placement on the Thu Bon River, gives it easy access to the South China Sea only five kilometers away. This location has been both a blessing and a curse. Locals have been willing to adapt to the annual floods every October and November because Hoi An has been a major trading port in southeast Asia for centuries. There are imprints from the Chinese, Japanese, and French, all of which colonized the town at one point in history. Even during monsoon season it is one of the most enchanting towns in Vietnam. So much so in fact, UNESCO deemed it a crucial historical and cultural center and in 1999 added it to their list of protected World Heritage sites.

Time

In honor of the president's visit yesterday to the Park, we're going to revisit this one...

The Grand Canyon; Earth's most spectacular example of what happens when you combine the perfect combination of geology, erosion and a whole lot of time. As magnificent as the canyon is, it can be a "grand" challenge for photographers to capture images that provide scale and depth to a wonder filled with superlatives. Of course, we will never be able to to re-create the awe that one is overcome with when standing on the rim and gazing into the vastness of this world wonder but the joy of photographing the canyon is to try and capture a semblance of it's beauty and grandeur on a two dimensional medium. There are different techniques you can use to achieve to this aim and in this photograph I combined two of them. First of all, it is necessary to place something of interest in the foreground to give the image depth. Secondly, I sometimes like to use something in the foreground of the photo that acts as a sort of natural border to create a "frame within the frame". This will draw the viewers eye through the photo from the foreground to the background. Thus, you can not only have a striking image framed beautifully and naturally but you can also achieve a sense of depth at the same time.
This all came to mind instantaneously when I came across this dead tree while hiking into the canyon via the South Kaibab Trail. It caught my eye because it's lack of foliage not only lends itself perfectly to the afore mentioned techniques but it's apparent age also makes it the perfect companion to the the canyon and the theme of this photo, time.

Fuji in Pink

For the first year and a half of my three years in Japan I lived in the town of Gotemba. Gotemba is mostly famous for sitting right at the foot of Japan's most famous landmark, Mt. Fuji and I was fortunate enough to live in an apartment with this view out my window. Fortunate indeed, for without that window and it's spectacular view I would have probably committed "seppuku" (ritualized suicide also known as "hari kiri") living in that tiny bento box that the Japanese call an apartment, well, "aparto" anyway. Quite to the contrary though, I grew to love that little apartment by focusing on two of the aspects often used in Japanese gardens; reduced scale and borrowed view. I learned (as usual the hard way) to appreciate minimalism, which believe me, for someone raised in the United States doesn't come naturally. I also realized that if you sat in just the right spot, that rectangular window of mine doubled as a perfect frame for one of the world's most beautiful and chameleon like mountains. Actually, now that I think about it, my window was really like a giant version of those digital picture frames that changes photos every few seconds. O.K. so the view didn't change that quickly but "Fuji San" is notorious for always looking different and I must say, considering the four distinct seasons, unpredictable weather and various lighting angles of the sun throughout any given day, the mountain never looked the same for long. Over my eighteen month stint in Gotemba, I never lost the small thrill of walking into my apartment and immediately taking a glance out my own personal frame to see what Fuji was revealing. Often times I even set my alarm for pre-dawn to check the weather and clouds and if it seemed promising, have enough time to set up my camera and tripod on my balcony for the morning "golden hour". I made this picture on one such morning when I was rewarded for shaking off my slumber and freezing temperatures. Fuji's winter white coat was reflecting the inordinately pink hue of the sky behind me just before sunrise. Luckily, I was already set up, hoping for a spectacular view like this one to happen and when it did it made it all worth while. Not only did I get my money shot, I was also reminded of the value of anticipation in photography. Sure many shots are the outcome of serendipitous moments your lucky to capture, but you can certainly increase the frequency of those moments by knowing your surroundings as best you can and trying to anticipate what the light or even people may do ahead of time. Sometimes, I find myself whispering to myself trying to manifest the vision in my head. Of course, a great deal of the time it never pans out. Even professionals may shoot dozens or even hundreds of photos to get those few precious "selects" but this pre-visualization is one of the components that separate professionals from amateurs. It has been my experience that you can actually increase your luck through preparation and anticipation and your alarm clock can be your most important piece of equipment. A few minutes after this image was taken the light changed and the mountain looked completely different and oh yeah, I went back to bed!