On February 18 and 19 2012 I’ll be displaying my work in a group show at Ashawagh Hall in Springs with Cynthia Loewen, Mary Milne, Deborah Anderson, Phyllis Chillingworth and Anahi DeCanio. I’ll be showing new pieces from East Hampton (including the image above).

Ashawagh Hall is located on Springs Fireplace Road in East Hampton. The show will take place on Saturday and Sunday February 18th and 19th. The hours are 12 to 8 on Saturday and 12 to 4 on Sunday. There will be a reception on Saturday from 5 pm until 8 pm. Email me (from the contact link above) if you need more info or specific directions.

We’ve called this show “Diversity” to highlight the varied media represented by the six of us.

Cynthia Loewen is a well-respected realist painter from East Hampton who paints in minute detail. She’ll be displaying a group of paintings she’s done from my photographs (in addition to many other acrylics and watercolors). Here’s a link to Cyndi’s work:

http://www.aaeh.org/Cynthia_Loewen.html

Mary Milne is a superb glass artist from Springs who studied at Pratt and Urban Glass and also at The New York School For Interior Design. She’ll be displaying her very lovely multilayered fusion glass. Here’s a link to Mary’s site:

http://marymilneglassart.com/gallery/ 

Deborah Anderson of Sag Harbor (aka Pressed Petals) is an arranger of dried flowers which she fashions into a variety of formats including many framed pieces which are decorative and which make wonderful gifts.

Anahi DeCanio is an award-winning artist who has exhibited extensively. She excels in a variety of formats, but at the show, she’ll be displaying recent abstract and multimedia paintings which we’re all very excited to see. Here’s a link to Anahi’s site:

http://fineartamerica.com/profiles/anahi-decanio.html

Phyllis Chillingworth is a painter whose watercolors evoke the varied and transient moods of light as seen in Montauk and nearby areas.  She’s a graduate of The Yale School of Art and Architecture and the Illinois Institute of Technology. Here’s a link to her site:

http://www.phyllischillingworth.com/

Please stop by and don’t hesitate to contact me if you have any other questions about the event.

I rarely make these statements, but I’d have to say that this picture is my favorite of all my own hoodoo images, east, west or anywhere in between. I do concede that it’s a gloomy scene, but for me it evokes the place, and I can smell the tide and the crumbling earth and the oozing out of spring.

They don’t call them hoodoos for nothing.

Have you ever been at Shadmoor and asked yourself, “How did they get here?” These formations (unlike their more famous cousins in places like Bryce Canyon) are not comprised of eroded sedimentary rock.  What we have here is a mish-mash (my wife’s words) of sand, clay and gravel–also known as glacial till. Long Island itself is pretty much nothing more than a sandbar full of such debris left by retreating glaciers.

The formation of hoodoos here in Shadmoor occurs when water percolates down and begins to move horizontally in the ground. There it pushes out the softer deposits, which kicks off a process of slumping and erosion creating hoodoos out of the remaining harder sediments.  In spring, if you hike down in front of the bluffs on the beach, you’ll often find water leaching out of the clay. In some spots, it forms rivulets which flow onto the sand below. The ocean takes care of the finishing touches with its own brand of erosion, chomping off huge vertical sections after storms.

Anyone who has visited National Parks in Utah (or who has read anything by Edward Abbey) invariably comes away with a fondness for the term “hoodoo”. In the west, a hoodoo is a name for eroded sandstone and limestone formations, especially the ones that conjure up ghastly shapes, anthropomorphic or otherwise. The term is an alternate take on the word voodoo and probably originated in Africa. You can see plenty of hoodoos in Goblin Valley State Park (in central Utah) or in Bryce Canyon.

But the west doesn’t own them all.

Similar spires may be seen in Shadmoor State Park in Montauk, where eroded bluffs create a fantastically ragged coastline. Much like their western cousins, Montauk’s formations continue to erode and reshape themselves (and are arguably just as spectacular).

This photograph was taken a few years back on an obstreperous winter’s day when a storm was clearing out. For about a half hour, I was present for a very interesting display of light which included the occasional sunbeam slanting down to the ocean. The picture was shot on negative film with my Hasselblad.

]]> http://johntodaro.wordpress.com/2012/01/06/montauk-images-hoodoos-in-winter/feed/ 1 johntodaro Winter Hoodoo http://johntodaro.wordpress.com/2012/01/06/montauk-ocean-and-bluffs-at-shadmoor/ http://johntodaro.wordpress.com/2012/01/06/montauk-ocean-and-bluffs-at-shadmoor/#comments Fri, 06 Jan 2012 13:44:57 +0000 John Todaro http://johntodaro.wordpress.com/?p=7281 Continue reading →]]> Shadmoor State Park preserves a half mile of oceanfront in Montauk along with 99 acres of parkland up on top, and is home to a variety of rare plant and animal species and unusual wetland habitats. Sand Plain Gerardia is present here along with thick stands of Black Cherry and Shadbush, the small tree which gives the park its name.

Shadmoor has historic significance because it’s also the location of Camp Wikoff, where Theodore Roosevelt and his troops were quarantined after the Spanish American War.  Additionally, there are two observation bunkers in Shadmoor which date to WW II and which were part of our coastal defenses.

I’ve photographed Shadmoor at various times and seasons. This image is from down on the beach in front of the bluffs facing Ditch Plain. A half mile walk will get you up-close and personal with the famous Montauk hoodoos, which is the local name for the eroded bluffs of the park.

In December, as I’ve mentioned, I picked up a lens for my Panasonic Micro 4/3 outfit – the Olympus M. Zuiko 45mm. There’s plenty to say about it, but let me start by saying that since I first opened the box I’ve been savoring it’s compactness. This is a lens that could snuggle up next to a golfball. But more to the point, it’s the very satisfying speed of this lens which has been making most of the news.

By designing it both small and speedy, they’ve escorted handheld telephoto imaging into a new dimension. Interestingly, the M. Zuiko suggests a miniature version of my much-used 90mm Sonnar (for my Contax G2)–a Zeiss telephoto that was another good performer when used without a tripod.

Much has been written about the M. Zuiko’s ability to deliver a creamy soft focus when used wide open (aka bokeh). As you might know, this is an old technique which everyone is infatuated with at the moment. Very shallow depth of field is possible, to an extent not previously achievable with point-and-shoot.  If you’re into bokeh, then this lens is your huckleberry. At ISO 400 you can roam around indoors without a flash, getting portraits with good contrast and no one will even know you’re there.

Needless to say I’m using it for landscapes. The picture above demonstrates how an effective handheld picture is possible with this lens in low light outside. I shot it at ISO 100, at a fairly wide f2.5 aperture and a shutter at 1/160. The aperture was wide, but not entirely open. This was good for several reasons: the image was recorded in the central part of the glass rather than shooting at the very edges. (If I’d used a fast zoom I would’ve been shooting wide open and probably at a higher ISO). I’ve taken advantage of both the speed of the lens and the finest part of the optics by doing this.

Most importantly, the depth of field in the image is surprisingly good. The slight bokeh which one achieves with not-entirely-wide f stops can be very effective in landscapes. In this picture, that effect is most apparent in the darkest part of the foreground.  I was able to shoot handheld at ISO 100 after sundown and achieve adequate depth of field. In these terms, the Olympus 45mm f1.8 is extraordinarily versatile.

The lilliputian character of the M. Zuiko relates directly to the Micro 4/3 sensor. It should be interesting to see if the (significantly larger) Sony NEX 7 system will have a comparable fully automatic prime telephoto available in the next year. I doubt it, but even if one comes along, it’s likely to be larger. For landscapes I much prefer a fast telephoto that’s usable without a tripod. I’m not ditching my Panasonics, and I suspect there’s an argument to make for using both formats.

BTW–This is how I’m currently working with my 4/3 primes:

I pack the Panasonic G 3 and the GF 2 into a small Tenba bag. The weight of both cameras (and all three prime lenses) is less than my old Hasselblad 180mm. That’s a lot of lightweight equipment using very little space. I keep the 14mm Panasonic on my G 3 and the 45mm Olympus on my GF 2. Since my GF 2 is silver, the lens is quite bewitching when paired this body.

The odd man out is my equally speedy 20mm f 1.7 which I can quickly install onto either body when needed. Having two bodies affixed with prime lenses makes it very easy to switch horses in the middle of a shoot. Advice: if you already have a GF body and are considering the G 3 (or GX 1)–keep your original camera. With prime lenses in your bag, having more than one body makes a lot of sense.

Here’s some specs on the lens from the Olympus press release:

http://www.olympus-global.com/en/news/2011a/nr110630zuiko45e.html

The four square format ocean landscapes were shot on negatives with the Hasselblad 903 SWC – a fixed wide angle camera with a 38mm Biogon lens. To this day, the 903 is totally without peer in terms of its compactness and the ability to deliver a ruthlessly precise and highly accurate wide-angle image. Click on the thumbnails to see an enlarged picture:

]]> http://johntodaro.wordpress.com/2012/01/04/winter-beaches-square-format-images/feed/ 0 johntodaro Winter Beach Winter Beach II Winter Dunes Winter Dunes II http://johntodaro.wordpress.com/2012/01/04/taking-photographs-getting-psyched-for-winter-beaches/ http://johntodaro.wordpress.com/2012/01/04/taking-photographs-getting-psyched-for-winter-beaches/#comments Wed, 04 Jan 2012 17:15:31 +0000 John Todaro http://johntodaro.wordpress.com/?p=7046 Continue reading →]]>

It’s 16 degrees this morning, and if that doesn’t feel cold enough, we’ve got 30mph gusts–winds that will be coming down on us out of the northwest like they finally mean business.

This is weather, in other words, which is sure to wake us up.

That being said, the sun is shining with an icy radiance, much like those January mornings back when we were kids. When I was in Sag Harbor earlier today, I re-discovered the satisfaction of stepping into a warm building. Bank, post office, or five-and-dime–we become more of a community when it’s freezing out. I say: bring it on. To hell with warm weather. The absurdly balmy climate we’ve been “blessed” with lately here in the middle latitudes has actually been depressing (my opinion). This is the argument:  The earth has a bit of a fever. Shouldn’t we be rooting for the planet? Shouldn’t we be wishing for it to be cold out when it’s supposed to be?

Winter is my favorite time to photograph beaches, but I’ll need to clarify that. In truth, I’ve taken pictures on days that are cold enough in November to feel like winter. Ditto for March and April, (months that have sent me home with popsicle fingers on more than one occasion).

Many of you live far enough south to never see snow on a beach. Others are trapped in ocean-deprived deserts or in situations where taking yourself to a frigid beach comes with very little appeal. I admit that it’s not easy to be out there taking pictures in a salt-soaked wind that’s cutting into your bones like a sushi knife.

But there’s tantalizing things going on–especially for photographers.

After a heavy snowfall, the slush that forms on the beach is beyond compare. A high tide can tease a beach full of snow into a distinctive foamy pulp. After getting gnawed at by the tides, it often refreezes. It can be crunchy (like walking on styrofoam)–or a whipped frozen froth speckled with sand and seaweed. It’s hard to tell what you’re walking on exactly. I once bought a set of “tripod snowshoes” which I’ve yet to try out, but I’m not sure if they’d work in the variable states of beach slush.

Up on the dunes, winter can come with ravishing views. It’s possible to find beachgrass encased in the ice of sea-spray (see my other post today). This is beautiful stuff–something rarely glimpsed. Several winters I’ve encountered large blocks of ice that dot the sand as far as you can see. In my rangering days on Fire Island I once rode on horseback into such a landscape. It was surreal–a blue and white polka dot beach with no one in sight in any direction. My horse trotted between the ice blocks while I took the pictures. Somewhere I have a photograph I took that day.

The beach in winter can be rewarding. My advice: dress warm, wear high boots (or snowshoes), and find some gloves that will permit you to use a digital camera. Keep in mind that microscopic buttons and dials are difficult to operate with fingers full of congealed blood. Beyond that, avoid changing lenses. Avoid using tripods without rubber grips. Make sure your camera batteries work in low temperatures. At all times, remember that you’re heading out into the absolute worse conditions for optics–salt, sand, dampness, ice and all the rest of it. Clean your camera when you get home…and whatever you do don’t drop it!

Footnote: I’ve included the picture up above in my Beach Days gallery. I admit that it was taken under conditions that almost no one would associate with a “beach” day.  Anyone I would have encountered out there would’ve been fully clothed and their umbrellas would’ve only come in dark colors. In other words, there were no stripes anywhere and no lotions.

I’m suggesting we expand the common view: some days should be considered beach days for reasons other than the ordinary ones. Indeed, maybe every day is a beach day of sorts.

Ask a duck– it’s not always about getting a tan.

]]> http://johntodaro.wordpress.com/2012/01/04/taking-photographs-getting-psyched-for-winter-beaches/feed/ 6 johntodaro Winter Beach, Amagansett http://johntodaro.wordpress.com/2012/01/03/east-hampton-new-beach-photographs-panasonic-g3-and-gf2/ http://johntodaro.wordpress.com/2012/01/03/east-hampton-new-beach-photographs-panasonic-g3-and-gf2/#comments Tue, 03 Jan 2012 19:11:06 +0000 John Todaro http://johntodaro.wordpress.com/?p=7006 Continue reading →]]>

To coincide with the new year I have six new images photographed with new equipment–all during the last week.

New is the word.

In December I added some items to the Micro Four Thirds system which I’ve been working with since last summer by picking up the Panasonic G3 and a 45mm f1.8 Olympus telephoto lens. These pictures were photographed with either the G3 or the new lens on my older GF2.

By the way–as of 2 pm today,  Imagecurrent is only two views short of 20,000. The site got rolling in late January 2010 (a little less than two years ago), so thanks in advance to whoever pushes us over 20K mark this afternoon!  And–thanks again to all who have stopped by over the last two years, and for your helpful comments and suggestions.

The pictures below are from local ocean and bay beaches at Napeague and Northwest Harbor. The vertical (above) is from just south of Mile Hill Road looking toward Barcelona Neck. It was photographed on New Years’ day.

The thumbnails can be enlarged by clicking on them:

]]> http://johntodaro.wordpress.com/2012/01/03/east-hampton-new-beach-photographs-panasonic-g3-and-gf2/feed/ 2 johntodaro Mile Hill Road Beach Ocean Study 3, Napeague - December Ocean Study, December - Napeague Northwest Harbor 1 Ocean Study 2, December - Napeague Ocean Study, December, East Hampton http://johntodaro.wordpress.com/2011/12/23/main-beach-photographed-from-the-jetty/ http://johntodaro.wordpress.com/2011/12/23/main-beach-photographed-from-the-jetty/#comments Fri, 23 Dec 2011 13:25:18 +0000 John Todaro http://johntodaro.wordpress.com/?p=6963 Continue reading →]]>

Here’s an early morning look at breaking surf just east of Main Beach. I took this photograph about three weeks ago, positioned up on the jetty with my back to the sunrise. It’s maybe not apparent from the photograph but since I was standing on the jetty, the camera is actually about eight feet above the surf.  Just to my left were the small flock of Purple Sandpipers who are regular visitors to these rocks (and who were eyeing me with more interest than the waves). They’re not common birds. If you’re down at Main Beach bring binoculars because they’re often found lurking around at the end of the jetty.

There’s no snow in the picture, but it does speak the language of winter. The steep scarp on Long Island’s ocean beaches is common during these months because of changes in current. This time of the year the ocean tends to scoop sand away (rather than deposit it),  later throwing it back in time for summer. In the picture,  a scarp is beginning to form on the beach to the right. The direct sunlight slanting across the water at daybreak is also a winter phenomenon.

For the next few months, it’s not uncommon to find scarps with four foot sheer drops caused by the erosive effects of a high tide. If you’re so inclined, it’s fun to play with a frisbee along the edges of these because you can practice diving catches.  Dogs and children welcome.

I promise this won’t be a review. Well at least not exactly. I will take this opportunity to crank out a bit of a “rolling plug”

I started working in the 4/3 format earlier this year using a Panasonic Lumix GF2 and a pair of those morsel-sized a la carte lenses. I have the 14mm and the 20mm primes which translate into a 28mm and 40mm respectively (0n a 35mm camera). These lenses are sometimes referred to as “pancakes” and we can rest assured that whoever conjured up such a name had a functional imagination. (We could also call them truffles, or slightly flattened cupcakes).

There’s been plenty of hype about this format along with all the digital-jabber and hyperactive comparisons that we’ve come to expect at regular intervals every time a new product arrives. Rejoice in knowing that I won’t contribute anything else to that particular subject.

Those in love with increasing numbers of megapixels got their fix a couple of years ago when the format first surfaced. Plus there was a larger sensor. We now know that the RAW files produced by any of the Olympus or Panasonic bodies will serve you well if you caress them properly. But … be warned:  If you own one of these cameras, don’t doubt for a minute that you’ll be seriously tempted by the next wave (spelled: NEX 7). If you decide to chase that carrot next February it will be your strictly your decision. My advice is to sit back and relax. Be a tortoise. Avoid the bleeding edge. They’ve stumbled onto a nice balance between performance and weight here at the moment — and we might as well enjoy it.

My friend (and fellow photographer) John Ellsworth told me last week that handling one of these micro 4/3 lenses is something like handling a “chess piece”. I enjoyed the thought. (He was actually referring to the Olympus M Zuiko 45mm f1.8, another lens which I finally sprung for). John and I are old enough to remember what 120 film cameras feel like when they’re hanging around your neck.

Anyway, the photograph above was taken with the Panasonic GF 2 (and the 20mm f1.7). With this camera, I’m able to focus the picture and adjust the exposure by the very simple act of touching the screen, (something which I still regard with amazement). I’ve been surprised to read that touch-screen navigation has aggravated some photographers. It seems there’s those who’d rather twist a dial. I’m fine with the touch screen possibly because it appeals to my severely limited capacity to follow instructions. Look at it this way: touching a screen requires only one finger and turning a dial takes two.

I’ll admit that since I bought this camera I’ve been cornering opportunities to explore the speed of these lenses. Believe it or not you can perform a variation on street photography far from any lamppost. The 20mm lens is also capable of producing shallow depth of field. In Japan they call this effect “bokeh”. I’m still uneasy with the pronunciation but I’ve been using the word a lot lately because it’s a lot sexier than saying “shallow depth of field”.

At any rate, my camera was hand-held for this picture and was therefore free to shoot six or seven variations in several positions and all in less than a minute. I feel like I’m playing jazz when I’m not off mucking around with my tripod and its multitude of extended joints. Let’s face it;  tripods are a bit clunky by nature. They also require at least three fingers to operate. That makes them even more complicated than turning a dial and much more so than touching a screen. I use them strictly when I need to.

Enough with cameras. Let’s move on to the West.

I’ve visited the eastern plains of New Mexico many times over the years and I always wonder why everyone else is driving though the place as fast as they can. I concede that there’s nothing much to see except for open space, which for me, is pretty much the point. This is not the Grand Canyon. If you spend any time out on the plains your expectations for normal landscapes will need to evolve. The scenery basically comes down to various combinations of grass and clouds, and (for better or worse) the ever present evidence of humans which usually takes the shape of  a fence. There’s cows everywhere but one thing about the plains is that you hardly ever see the people.  That’s okay, because their absence creates interest.

One visit didn’t involve taking any pictures. Many years ago my wife and I took a train ride west from Long Island. We took it all the way to Albuquerque just to see what it was like.

It was long.  Even compared to a bad day at the airport, this was a trip which slowed time down to a slurpy crawl.  It seemed like years before we were rid of the east (but once we were past Chicago things did get more interesting).  My favorite part was the morning after the second night. We got up and walked groggily through the train to a very lovely dining car. I remember cloth napkins. We were seated at small table and had the most delicious breakfast with a very compelling view. We were now chugging through the plains and were finally situated in New Mexico. All you could see was mile after mile of grass, clouds and the ubiquitous fences of ranching. It looked something like my picture up above except it was brighter because the sun coming up.

As I said, it wasn’t a day that I used my camera.  The train window took all the pictures and we stored them in our memory.