Categories
Uncategorized

Snake’s on a Plane

We first encountered the phrase “alternative facts” when Kellyanne Conway defended the U.S. Press Secretary, Sean Spicer, after he lied about the number in attendance at Donald Trump’s inauguration. It strikes me that, in the age of Photoshop and deep fakes, we can have alternative photos too. So I have begun a little personal project.

Official photos of the president are in the public domain and, at least in the case of Donald Trump, are readily available on the whitehouse45 Flickr account. That means anybody can have at them for just about any purpose under the sun. Presumably all the photos on the Flickr account have been shot by Shealah Craighead who was Trump’s official photographer. Time magazine claims that it is “a role that has been viewed as crucial for the preservation of history.” Yeah, right.

My little personal project involves downloading images from the Flickr account and properly preserving them for history. In my estimation, my colour corrections and retouches vastly improve the historical record. I call them alternative photographs. The most important improvement is the erasure of Donald Trump. I’m not sure how I should approach this. Maybe I should start by producing images that fade him out, like the photo of Marty McFly’s parents in Back to the Future. Later, when people had gotten used to a less Trumpy version of Trump, I’d remove him altogether. This is a bit like pulling down statues, but without all the sweat and yelling.

A vanishing Donald Trump climbs the stairs to board Air Force One.
Categories
Street Photography

No One in the Streets

Early days of the pandemic: news reports from all over the world said there was no one in the streets. Thanks to lockdowns, urban cores had been hollowed out. Everything fell silent. In my hometown (Toronto), I walked the streets to see for myself if they were as empty and quiet and the news reports said they were.

It reminds me of an episode from Lewis Carroll’s Through The Looking Glass. The White King wants to know where his messengers have gone and asks Alice to look for them. We end up with this exchange:

“Just look along the road, and tell me if you can see either of them.”

“I see nobody on the road,” said Alice.

“I only wish I had such eyes,” the King remarked in a fretful tone. “To be able to see Nobody! And at that distance, too! Why, it’s as much as I can do to see real people, by this light!”

That, in turn, sends me back to an even earlier example of the same game. It’s the exchange between Odysseus and Polyphemus, the cyclops:

“‘Cyclops, you ask my name and I will tell it you; give me, therefore, the present you promised me; my name is Noman; this is what my father and mother and my friends have always called me.’

“But the cruel wretch said, ‘Then I will eat all Noman’s comrades before Noman himself, and will keep Noman for the last. This is the present that I will make him.’

After Odysseus gets the giant drunk and pokes out his eye, Polyphemus cries out to all the other cyclopes.

“… [S]o they gathered from all quarters round his cave when they heard him crying, and asked what was the matter with him.

“‘What ails you, Polyphemus,’ said they, ‘that you make such a noise, breaking the stillness of the night, and preventing us from being able to sleep? Surely no man is carrying off your sheep? Surely no man is trying to kill you either by fraud or by force?’

“But Polyphemus shouted to them from inside the cave, ‘Noman is killing me by fraud; no man is killing me by force.’

“‘Then,’ said they, ‘if no man is attacking you, you must be ill; when Jove makes people ill, there is no help for it, and you had better pray to your father Neptune.’

“Then they went away…

I wandered the city streets, but I couldn’t find no one anywhere.

Categories
Street Photography

Great Advice Pays Off

Sleeping on a warm vent at King & Bay, Toronto

Capturing a moment of cognitive dissonance is like shooting fish in a barrel. A lot of times, I barely notice how one element of a photograph is at odds with another element. In this instance, I noticed a man lying on a vent in the heart of Toronto’s financial district and thought I should capture the moment as part of an ongoing effort to document the obvious rise of homelessness during the pandemic. It wasn’t until I got home that I noticed the sign overhead: Great advice pays off. There is an obvious incongruity between the tagline of a financial institution and a man with no more security than the coat over his head.

We used to call this sort of thing cognitive dissonance, but I don’t think the world has much use for that term anymore. The idea of cognitive dissonance used to be that we could throw competing values into the same space to produced a radical clash. This was a strategy that critics could deploy to expose a lie. Now, there are a lot of disillusioned critics wringing their hands and wondering why bother when we live in a post-truth world. Never has this been so evident than in the age of Trumpism which has ushered in a celebration of alternative facts, narratives unhinged from referents in the real world, and a willingness to stare lies squarely in the face and adopt them as truths.

Trump didn’t invent any of this, of course. He merely honed it into an art. Before him, there was Bernie Madoff who sold Ponzi schemes as legitimate financial practices, and George W. Bush who continued to rationalize a war with a lie even after the lie had been exposed, and before Bush there was Thatcher who insisted that the deregulation of financial markets would make life better for working class men and women even as misery spread all around her.

We don’t even wink anymore. We don’t even worry that a revelation will ruin our career. We’ve grown so inured to the lies that we face them straight on and continue on our way, as I did when I saw this lie and set up the shot without even thinking about it.

Categories
Uncategorized

Family Portraits

Family portrait on the E & N Railway Trail, West Victoria, B.C.

While we were out in Victoria B.C. visiting my wife’s brother and his family, my sister-in-law wondered if maybe I could shoot some family photos. I had minimal kit with me, so I had to think for a bit about what I could do to compensate for technical limitations (like no flash). I suggested we go casual. The big graffiti murals on the E & N Rail Trail would offer a huge selection of possible backdrops. Let’s grab a couple lawn chairs and go for a hike.

The walls on the Rail Trail face north, so they throw everything in shade, perfect for eliminating shadows on a sunny day. Yes, despite flooding in B.C., it was a sunny day. We found a mural with colours that worked, crawled through a hole in the fence, and set up the chairs.

It used to be that family portraits were a formal affair. Years ago, when it could take minutes to expose a glass plate (or whatever the photographer was using to capture the image), the subjects had to stand stock still. And because it’s difficult to hold a smile for minutes, most subjects resorted to an impassive expression. Sometimes, they looked ill-tempered or even evil. What started as a technical necessity morphed into a social convention. Even as film speeds improved and subjects no longer had to keep still for minutes, the process was cast in the pall of formality. People felt obliged to be stiff and humourless for family portraits. I remember as a child being scolded for ruining a shot because I laughed. Now, I look back on those photos—the outtakes—and they’re the only ones worth keeping, the only ones that really capture a sense of personality and family dynamics.

In this case, the portrait looks more natural. But don’t be deceived. There’s still plenty of artifice at play here. For example, when my sister-in-law folded her legs and leaned in, I moved my nephew from the centre to the side to create a long diagonal line from the top of his head to the tip of his mother’s toes.

After we finished there, we moved to a playground at the local elementary school where I could position everyone on upright logs. Here, I didn’t have the benefit of shade, but the results were better than I expected. This time, the diagonal line moved in the opposite direction.

Family photo
Categories
Street Photography

Industrial Window

Window at the E & N Roundhouse, West Victoria, B.C.

There is a gap in my photography between what I think I’m shooting and the image I actually take home with me.

In this case, I thought I was shooting an image of a window in an abandoned industrial space. I liked the brick, the variegated panes of glass with one missing, the expanded metal to protect the glass and peeled back where the pane is missing, as if to prove the point: see, you need the protection, otherwise your panes of glass will go missing.

But what I took home is something different. If you look near the top of the image, a little to the left of the centre line, you’ll see that someone has stuck a tiny pink heart there. It’s kind of funny, really. There I am, with my serious pretensions at producing a gritty commentary on post-industrial life. And somebody comes along and sneaks a tiny pink heart into the scene. Message received.

Window at the E & N Roundhouse, West Victoria, B.C. (detail)
Categories
Landscape Photography

Container Ship

Container ship appears at sunrise viewed from the Ogden Point Breakwater, Victoria, B.C.

When I first arrived in Victoria this November and was still on Toronto time, it was easy to get up early in the morning and catch the sunrise from the Ogden Point Breakwater. Although B.C. has been tormented by atmospheric rivers and extraordinary rainfall, there were times when a little sunshine broke through to remind us of all the forest fires during the summer.

Here, massive clouds loom overhead, but a thin band of light appears on the horizon illuminating the mountains in Washington state. Meanwhile, an empty container ship chugs into the frame. The gears of commerce grind on, lending visual interest to photographs everywhere.

Categories
City Life

Chevrolet

Chevrolet parked at the E & N Roundhouse, West Victoria, B.C.

I’m not a car guy. I was drawn to this car mostly because of the way the late afternoon light struck it against the backdrop of red bricks. I think it’s a Chevrolet because the word “Chevrolet” appears on the hub cap, but for all I know the hub cap could come from some other car. My Dad used to be able to tell me the make model and year of any car on the road. But that was easier to do when there were only 3 big manufacturers in North America and foreign imports barely had a toehold on the continent. Now, there are so many different models on the road, my Dad just shrugs. It’s hard to keep up.

According to an article in the Toronto Star, car thefts are up this past year, presumably a consequence of supply chain issues which make it harder and more expensive to buy new cars in some markets. Topping the list is the Lexus RX350 and the Honda CR-V. Nobody cares about Chevrolets. According to the article, the stolen cars either go to chop shops for parts, or they go to Montreal where they end up in shipping containers bound for Europe, Africa or the Caribbean.

I’ve read that there is a shortage of shipping containers too, so I guess even car thieves face logistical challenges and rising costs in these unprecedented times.

Categories
City Life

I Like Trains

Boxcar at the E & N Roundhouse, West Victoria, B.C.

I like trains. On November 23rd, I found this scrawled on the the side of an abandoned boxcar that sits by the E & N (Esquimalt & Nanaimo) Roundhouse in West Victoria, B.C. This message or declaration or cry to the gods was brand new. I know this because I had shot the same boxcar only two days earlier and, at that time, it had no message spray painted on its side.

I don’t know why people need to declare to the world their privately held personal preferences. Isn’t it enough just to stare at the boxcar and admire it? Maybe the message isn’t about what it says, but about what it does. Maybe there’s an implied bit that can be added to the message: I like trains and I exist. The spray painted message satisfies a basic existential need: it confirms to the spray painter that they aren’t invisible but can act in the real world. I arrive on the scene with my camera and amplify that confirmation by sharing it with the rest of the world.

Boxcar at the E & N Roundhouse, West Victoria, B.C.
Categories
City Life

Coming and Going

Man pushes a hand truck loaded with boxes through a blast of steam from a vent in the road.

Thanks to the Covid-19 pandemic, the world is fraught with supply chain issues, a concern as the holiday shopping frenzy takes hold. We hear stories of goods sitting for weeks in shipping containers. I wanted to buy flowers for friends but when I visited the local florist, I found the shelves picked bare. All that remained were a few unwanted plants with their withered leaves, a sight that filled me with sadness. My wife tells me that, at her office, they’re running low of the usual supplies, paper, staples, sticky tabs, that sort of thing. Bars can’t offer exotic drinks for the holidays because delivery of liqueurs like Compari and Schnapps is delayed by up to six weeks.

So it’s a surprise to watch a guy push a hand truck loaded with boxes. Evidently, not all supply chains are created equal. The gears of commerce still grind on. Minutes later, the same guy passes through my frame minus his boxes. He’s like Santa Claus, and somewhere up the street, a local retailer is dancing a jig.

Speaking of Santa Claus, I wonder how the man in red manages supply chain issues for his workshop. Is he going to be skimping on his deliveries this year? Or does he have a dedicated pipeline to source materials?

Man pushes an empty hand truck through a blast of steam from a vent in the road.
Categories
Street Photography

Extinction Rebellion

A protester carrying a flag blocks Bloor Street East between Sherbourne & Huntley, Toronto

Went to the gym and when I went back upstairs to shower, somebody was setting up in the road below, testing a megaphone. I could see the Extinction Rebellion flags. After my shower, I found my daughter had arrived and she wondered why police were blocking off the street at Sherbourne to the east and Huntley to the west. The last time they did this, they detonated a suspected bomb in front of our building.

The guy with the megaphone had moved into the middle of the street along with maybe ten other people. They weren’t making much noise but they were disrupting traffic along Bloor Street. I ate my lunch then got ready to go out. My plan was to walk up Yellow Creek to St. Clair and pop in to Book City to buy a Christmas gift for my mom.

I packed my camera bag with a view to taking macro shots in Yellow Creek, but when I got downstairs, realized the Extinction Rebellion people presented a different kind of opportunity. I paused to pull out my camera while a passing woman yelled at them in her prim English accent: “Get a life! You don’t even understand what you’re protesting. Do some research.” A girl holding a flag bore the yelling with equanimity and smiled at a second girl, another of the protesters. Meanwhile, three men engaged with a passerby who seemed sympathetic to the cause. They stood by a ladder that straddled the centre line and supported flags and signs. I approached the girl and asked if she’d mind me shooting some photos. She said that was fine but pulled up her mask with its discreet message: “Fuck the RCMP.” I observed that the pandemic was convenient that way, giving the protesters an extra reason to conceal their identities. I shot quickly, then headed for Yellow Creek.

Categories
Abstract

A Dream of Doors

Entrance to an Empty Space

I opened a door and walked through it only to find myself facing another door as the door behind slammed shut. I felt the knob of the door behind but it was locked so turned to the door ahead and tried its knob. It turned easily. I opened the door and walked through it only to find myself facing another door as the door behind slammed shut. I felt the knob of the door behind but it was locked so turned to the door ahead and tried its knob. It turned easily. I opened the door but before I walked through, I stretched my arm behind to prevent the previous door from slamming shut. However, I was too late. I heard the door click to and when I tried the knob, found that it was locked. At the same time, the door ahead clicked to and I was afraid I might be trapped in a tight enclosure. Again, I felt the knob of the door ahead and it turned easily. With a feeling of relief, I stepped outdoors into the wider city. Night was falling and lights reflected in the damp of the pavement.

Categories
Nature

Porn sprouts like mushrooms on Twitter

Mushrooms on Log

In my previous post, I mentioned that pornography has sprouted like mushrooms on Twitter. At the same time, Twitter has announced that it will remove photographs if the subject hasn’t consented. The multi-billion dollar corporation will make exceptions for any photograph that “adds value to the public discourse, is being shared in the public interest, or is relevant to the community”. I guess porn doesn’t get caught up in this discussion because it’s consensual. At least we’re supposed to think it’s consensual. Consensual in the same way that exploited workers have always consented to their wages and working conditions.

Ah, says Twitter, that woman giving a blow job isn’t exploited; she works for a fun guy.

Fungi.

See how I made that segue? Because, really, I wanted this post to be about mushrooms. In particular, I wanted to show off this beautiful bunch of mushrooms I found on a log when I was walking along a country road in Haliburton. An overcast sky softened the shadows and made the colours more saturated. Perfect conditions for shooting with a macro lens.

Just so we understand one another: the fungi gave their consent to appear in my photo.

Categories
Street Photography

Twitter to remove images posted without subject’s consent

Woman pushes bundle buggy along the sidewalk on Toronto's Bloor Street West.

In an article posted December 01, 2021, the BBC reports that Twitter has rejigged its terms of use: it now reserves to itself the authority to remove images posted without consent of the people who appear in those images. Well, damn! There goes just about every image I’ve ever posted.

Recognizing that the headline announcing this change sounds a bit extreme, Twitter clarified that it is trying to address images that “harass, intimidate and reveal the identities of private individuals, which disproportionately impacts women, activists, dissidents, and members of minority communities”. This sounds all very laudable but forgive me if I treat these sentiments with skepticism. As a company with a market capitalization of 35 B, Twitter is in the business of making money, not of standing as a beacon of ethical conduct.

I have some thoughts:

1. The company that gave Donald Trump a platform to vault himself to the American presidency where he trumpeted thousands of lies claims that its TOS tweaks are meant to improve the quality of public discourse. Twitter has said that it will not remove an ostensibly offending image “if a particular image and the accompanying tweet text adds value to the public discourse, is being shared in the public interest, or is relevant to the community”. That is laughable, not because of Donald Trump and not because of the pornography that sprouts like mushrooms on Twitter, but because by definition nothing that happens on Twitter is public discourse.

Like all social media, Twitter is the virtual equivalent of POPS (privately owned public space). Since the rise of Thatcherism and Reaganomics—or neoliberalism, if you prefer—successive governments in all Western democracies have sold off public spaces to private interests. Often, now, what we take to be a public square, is in fact owned by a private entity which has no obligation to honour constitutionally entrenched rights like freedom of expression and freedom of the press. This was a hard lesson the Occupy movement learned when private security forces turfed protesters from public parks that turned out to be not so public after all.

One possible solution is government regulation. There is no reason a government can’t stipulate what kinds of speech/images Twitter can and can’t curtail. However, given the West’s laissez faire approach to multi-billion dollar corporations, I have low expectations here.

2. I am a street photographer and street photography habitually makes photographs without consent. Most street photographers practice their craft with benign intent. They observe/document/engage/critique the way people interact with built environments. At their best, they pose questions about what it means for us to function as social beings. At their best, they bolster our social memory. They help us understand who we are and who we might become. It would be a mistake to surrender the determination of our social memory to functionaries who work in the overweening shadow of the profit motive. We would lose our memory by increments, like a person in the early stages of dementia, hardly noticing the changes. But a decade or two later it would strike us: the utter vacuity of what remains.

3. A Twitter spokesperson states: “We’ve been complying with Right to Privacy laws in various countries since 2014, and this is really an expansion of those protections to everyone on Twitter”. Like most conversations about rights these days, people omit to mention that rights are not absolute, but are limited by competing rights and responsibilities. Determining the limits to a right falls to governments, not corporations. In Canada, where I live, and in most Western democracies, photographers have the right to shoot without consent where the subject has no reasonable expectation of privacy. This is not an absolute right, but in most circumstances it serves as a good guideline. As long as it remains the law of the land, it is the guideline I will follow, and if Twitter doesn’t like that, then maybe it should take the matter up with my country’s government. What it shouldn’t do is conduct itself as if this is a private contractual matter between Twitter and me.

4. One possible solution is to do what I do here. I own this space, so I’m not subject to the whims of other private interpretations of what does and does not stand in the public interest. Unfortunately, no one can find me here in this backwater of the internet because searchability has be relegated to an even bigger private concern—Google—which, with its market capitalization of 2.48 T, is 70 times the size of Twitter and large enough that it is effectively immune from government regulation.

Freedom of expression doesn’t stand a chance, does it?

Man walks past Christmas windows at The Hudson's Bay, Queen Street West, Toronto
Categories
Landscape Photography

Fuck Sunsets Again

People in a boat at sunset on Bob Lake, Haliburton Highlands, Ontario

I hate photos of sunsets so much, I thought it deserved a second post just so you’d know how strongly I feel about the issue. Yes, I admit there are more important issues vying for our attention at the moment. There’s a global pandemic. An epidemic of nationalistic jingoism verging on fascism. Millions of displaced people who face violence at every turn. Even so, an issue is never quite an issue until it’s my issue. And this is my issue.

Here, I remedied the boring sunset shot with rocks silhouetted in the foreground and the chance appearance of a boat edging into the frame. I particularly like how the clouds direct the eye to the boat. We can imagine that Fredo is sitting in that boat, about to get his brains blown out. Fortunately, Fredo is made up, just like my issue.

Categories
Landscape Photography

Fuck Sunsets

Evening on Bob Lake in Ontario's Haliburton Highlands as a boat passes.

In my estimation, a sunset is the dumbest excuse for a photograph ever invented. And yet people go gaga over sunsets. I don’t know why. What do people think it means to watch the sun disappear as the Earth rotates? Is it a sign from god? Does it inspire awe at the wonder of creation? Does it serve as a reminder of our mortality?

In strict visual terms, a sunset is as boring as all fuck. If you plunk your camera level with the horizon and take shots of the sun sinking below the horizon, then what you’ve got is a photo of nothing much happening. The only way to counteract that is to plunk your camera level with the horizon when you think something else might enter your frame. Like a dinosaur. Except dinosaurs are extinct. I’ll settle for a boat.

What I like about this photo is that the guy steering the boat agrees with me. He could care less about the sunset. He wants to know why there’s a guy standing on a rock with a long lens mounted on a tripod.