Tag Archives: Photography

On Board #74

You too can be a featured On Board contributor. This one comes from Kasia Cannella. Do you have World Cup fever? Yes? Well why aren’t you wearing a cape?

June 17, 6:52 p.m.
2 Train, Nevins St. to Grand Army Plaza

On the ground

This is the kind of picture you can get with a remote controlled camera buggy in Tanzania:

Elephants and buffalo and the buggy, here.

On Board #61

On Board has thus far been strictly text. That wasn’t our intent, being friends of all media. Thus, our thanks to reader KC provides our first foray into visual media. Send your photos, videos, audio, performance pieces – and, yes, text – here.

March 18, 2010, 7:16 p.m.
N Train – Union Square to Atlantic Avenue

And, because “why not,” here’s a fictional tale to go along with it, written by your proprietor:

Where were the ripples coming from? I had seen the East River in various states of tumult, but never with such a smooth, controlled series of waves rolling from Brooklyn to Manhattan, as if the Brooklyn Bridge’s eastern-most tower had collapsed into the water in one mass of limestone.

It had been a long day, a Thursday, four-fifths of the way through a long week. I saw the pink sky bouncing off a flotilla of clouds and pulled out my phone. I needed that picture. But now I had the clouds and the skyline and the bridge, and I couldn’t stop looking at the ripples. They were spread as evenly as the lights on the bridge above. The ripples came from where I was going, but I had no clue where exactly it was they came from.

In the picture they were as still as skyscrapers, immobile, locked in space. They would move later, of course – they were moving now, as I looked at the picture – but, for now, I wanted them to be only of this moment. It’s possible they had been there each time I crossed the bridge. That I’d just never noticed them. It’s possible there was a simple, earthly explanation for the ripples: a passing boat like the one I rode behind as a child, wobbling along on two water skis tied together at the tips. But on this Thursday, with one-fifth of the week to go, an uncooked meal waiting at home, darkness settling, I wanted these ripples to be unique. Of only this moment. And so they were.

Bedrooms of Soldiers

Chances are you’ll recognize your bedroom among this collection of twenty, all of which belonged to soldiers killed in Iraq or Afghanistan:

This is a photo series from The New York Times Magazine. The normalcy is devastating.

The Long View

Simon Roberts has captured his countrymen in a series of pulled-back landscape shots:

Where possible I would photograph from elevated positions (often from the roof of my motor home), which would enable me to get a greater sense of people’s interaction with the landscape and with one another. I also decided that the people populating a scene would be relatively small in the frame; although not so small that you couldn’t make out some facial expressions, what they were wearing, and their activities.

As a general rule, I like close-ups in my photography. But these have a very Romantic-landscape-painting feel to them that work well.

Mr. Smith’s Photos

Add another photographer to the canon. His name’s Rodney Smith:

That’s not him, just one of his photos. NPR’s photo blog turned me onto Mr. Smith’s work, and I haven’t yet found a picture I don’t like. There’s a very clear aesthetic here, having to do with much more than black and white men in bowler caps.

Antarctica’s Dry Valleys

This is a few years old, but Twitter pointed me to this Washington Post slideshow of George Steinmetz photos from Antarctica. Did you know the continent has “dry valleys” without any ice?

The full slideshow is worth your time, especially with the eerie music.