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The music from the orchestra crashes and roars around you like an ocean. The energy from it all quickens your pulse and carries you with it. You’re helpless to resist it. You feel like something is pulling at your soul, as if you could levitate out of your seat. This awesome power seems to be controlled by a little man on stage with white hair and a baton. You’ve all seen this guy. He’s the one waving his arms and imploring the musicians on stage to pour out their souls but to the untrained eye, it looks like they’re ignoring him.

The fact is, these symphony level musicians aren’t going to make much music without a leader, and the Maestro is that leader. Sometimes he rules with benevolence and sometimes he rules with a clenched iron fist, but the one thing that is true of every conductor is that he makes his money in the rehearsal, not the performance.

By the time the performance rolls around, the musicians, as excellent as they may be, are not playing Bach or Mozart, they are playing the Maestro’s music. And every instrument on stage is being played by one man – the Maestro.

I was invited to shoot the Fresno Choral Artists in performance with the National Chamber Orchestra of Armenia as a part of the Centenial Birthday Celebration of William Saroyan.  He is a Pulitzer Prize winning author and playwright who was born in Fresno, CA. He is a very important figure to the local Armenian community and to Central California. He typifies the local-boy-who-succeeded-against-all-odds story.

I was prepared to shoot the chorus, until this magnetic man walked on stage and commanded respect just from his presence. His name is Aram Gharabekian and he is the Maestro in every sense of the word.

Every performance is preceeded by a final rehearsal. Typically this last rehearsal is a walk-through so the musicians and singers can hear the acoustics of the building.  Not so with the Maestro. He demanded much from the orchestra and chorus early in the rehearsal and didn’t allow anyone to relax.  He even chastised a member of the orchestra in front of everyone for not bringing a pencil to makes notes of what the Maestro wanted.  The level of intensity continued to grow until the orchestra was playing at an almost performance level but the Maestro refused to relent. He wanted it all and he wanted it right now.

Don’t misunderstand, the Maestro was a witty and charming man, except when conducting.  Everything was about the music when he raised the baton. If the music called for romantic, he wanted your heart. If it called for courage, he still wanted your heart.  He wanted your complete involvement in every note, every phrase, and in doing so breathed life into the notes on the page – he gave this immortal music its soul.

The rehearsal process is an intimate one.  How does a conductor express in words and gestures what he wants from music? And regardless of how trained or experienced the singers or musicians are, do they trust the conductor’s interpretation? How much of their soul are they willing to invest in the conductor’s vision?

The answer to these questions can only be heard in performance.  The audience may be overwhelmed by the sound and the spectacle, but the Maestro and all the singers and musicians know by the last note that it was either a performance worthy of their efforts or something greater.  Occasionally, a great synergy occurs when the musician’s soul touches the audience, and that is exactly what happened that night.  The audience was well fed by the music and the energy they showed only increased the intensity on the stage.  It went well above the intensity demanded in rehearsal, it went well above anyone’s hopes or imaginations.

It became art.

Bravo Maestro.

Bravo.

A posse ad esse.

One of the blogs I read regularly is PrettyGirlShooter.   Besides being an excellent shooter, JimmyD is also very open to sharing his techniques. I admit that I have taken many of his posts into the studio with me and recreated his lighting. One of my buddies who has been shooting much longer than I have often tells me that he’s amazed at how quickly I grasped studio lighting.  I am no ‘Rembrandt’ in the studio (excuse the pun) but Jimmy’s lessons really made it quick and easy to understand.  Jimmy, I owe you a good scotch and the steak that goes along with it.

This is a business /hobby that is gear crazy.  As the holidays approach, I would like all of you to know that I want / need every light, every camera, every byte of software that came to market in the last five years.

At least that’s what I thought at the beginning of my photographic journey.  As I’ve read Jimmy’s posts, he often demonstrates how little gear you need to shoot pro quality.  So, as a tip of my hat to the mentor I’ve never met, this post is all about shooting with one single little light.

This maternity shot is one of my faves and is published in the Photography-On-The.Net 2007 yearbook. POTN is an excellent site for getting good shooters to critique your work in a (mostly) positive environment.

In my opinion, the shadowing and depth of field are what give this shot its intimacy.  That light is created by a seven foot by four foot diffusion panel and a single Alien Bee 800.  Not many shooters work with diffusion panels but it’s simply a pvc frame that you can build yourself cheaply with white ripstop nylon (available at fabric stores) pulled across it (and held on by elastic strips sewn onto the corners).  We’re talking less that $50 here (or at least we were before the markets crashed). I like using it when I want soft, even light over a torso. The Alien Bee had barn doors attached to prevent spill. (I even use it as a background on occasion – please check out my post about making sharks smile to see what it looks like.)

The real benefit of the diffusion panel is that it breaks down to a bunch of pvc pieces and a sheet of nylon. What could be easier to transport than that? You can even purchase ready made kits online (I bought a smaller one at Calumet).

I wanted shallow DOF so I metered for f/2.8 and shot using a tripod. And if you’re curious, the background wall is a styrofoam insulation panel (bought at Home Depot) spray painted copper.

The shot of Alyssa directly above the maternity shot is similar in that it was a single light but this time I used large softbox (I didn’t have my diffusion panel yet).  I like the light better in the maternity shot than in the Alyssa shot.  The softbox just doesn’t give the soft light the diffision panel does in my opinion.  Another benefit of the diffusion panel is that you can change the size of the light source by moving the light closer or further away from the panel. In Alyssa’s shot, I would have enjoyed making the light source a little larger to capture more of her hair, which could use a little more separation from the background, but I have to admit, Alyssa is so beautiful not many people have commented on that. She’s also as easy to work with as she is beautiful.

This picture of Minnie was actually a light test.  I had rented the studio to another photographer and dialing my lights in one at a time (yes, sometimes you set up lighting for photographers that rent the studio but don’t know squat about lighting) when I saw Minnie standing close to the softbox. I grabbed my camera instead of the light meter and caught this shot.  Minnie is one of the few perfect models I have ever shot. She was always herself but always aware she was in the studio. Shooting her was effortless and I am sad she moved away. Why do I bring all this up? Because this is the same single light and same softbox as I used with Alyssa, however, Minnie was standing closer and the light is sweeter. In case you’re new to this, the closer the light is the sweeter the light is.

The next two shots are also single light shots but employ a beauty dish instead of a softbox or diffusion panel.  The beauty dish is modified with a nylon cover that softens the light a little more. The shot above is the beautiful profile of Michelle Deighton, a contestant on America’s Next Top Model. Why she did not win it all is a mystery to me, she was flawless in the camera and in person.

Her shot was taken with the beauty dish camera left and above but just out of the frame. Again, the sweet light is up close and that’s where the beauty dish was.  The background is just spray painted styrofoam. No, I’m not cheap – I’m sexy and affordable.

This shot I call ‘Light Shower’ features Anne Rutherford.  We had just finished a fashion spread for a local mag and had some ‘play’ time in the studio.  It’s a single light modified by the beauty dish as with Michelle’s shot but boomed over her.  I like the way the light falls off and highlights her hair.

The shot at the very top of the post is Cody and is the only shot taken with ‘hard’ light. The AB800 is modified with a grid and is set up high and to camera left. The shadows are deep and dramatic and Cody’s profile is beautiful in this light.

If you’re searching for a point to this post, it’s that you can be very creative with a single light. You can modify that light with inexpensive diffusion panels, softboxes, beauty dishes or just grids.  That, and read excellent blogs like Jimmy’s!

I am a child of the USA. I know fast food, managed health care, 401K plans, and the G I Bill.  I used to have money in the bank until the markets crashed. I have a house, a beautiful wife, a loving dog and a big HDTV on which to watch sports to the chagrin of the beautiful wife (the loving dog remains ambivalent).  Compared to the residents of Ocoroni, I have it all. But they have something I find in short supply.

~ Joy ~

I have taken some shots in my life that I am very proud of but I confess, these pictures took themselves.

Whole families found shade and waited throughout the day to see the American doctors.

I’ve always dreamed of being a NatGeo photographer and this trip gave me a sense of what it must be like.  I learned that your people skills are as important as your camera skills. Sometimes you get to be like a sniper from across the yard with your 200mm lens, but often you’re very close to your subject and your presence ends up influencing the shot .  If that is the case, then you can’t come across as a threat. In fact, after the first fifteen minutes at the clinic, I felt like the Pied Piper with all the kids following me around wanting to see their faces on the back of my camera.

The joy was evident in both the young and the old. The ‘youngster’ below entertained those lucky few waiting indoors and the majority the clients waiting on benches in the shade outdoors.

The little ones, especially the sick little ones, became restless.

The day was draining on everyone.

Part three will show you the elation and the disappointment of our one day in Ocoroni.

Regardless of our methods and techniques, we’re all striving to create a soul in our images.  So it would seem to be an easy task to shoot a town filled with souls.  It would seem…

California is filled with millions of souls and personalities.  Most of the world only hears about the fruits, flakes and nuts that make up the Granola State.  I would like all of you to know that there are heroes who live here, too. They don’t get headlines. In fact, I couldn’t get these pictures or this story published by the one major newspaper or the two local magazines in Fresno. Anti-heroes get press, the story of these volunteers wasn’t considered news.

The souls I refer to are the pilots, doctors, nurses, translators and volunteers of an organization called the Flying Doctors of Mercy. I was fortunate to fly with the Fresno chapter. The short version of their story is that the first weekend of almost every month, private pilots fly their own planes filled with volunteers and supplies to impoverished towns in Mexico.  Planes fly from San Diego, Los Angeles, Fresno and other cities to adopted towns deep inside Mexico … far from prosperity and medical expertise.

We departed on a Friday morning before dawn.  It took most of the day to fly to Guasave.  After numerous stops for fuel and after passing through Customs, we landed at a remote airstrip outside of town guarded by the Mexican army. It was important that we landed before sunset because, as we were reminded numerous times, anything flying after sunset would be shot down as a suspected drug runner.

Welcome to Mexico.

Members of the Guasave Rotary greeted us and drove us to the hotel. There we paid for our own rooms, learned more about each other over dinner and rested up for tomorrow.

Guasave At Night

Just like the day before, we were up before dawn so we could be on the vans and head into the mountains to our adopted town, Ocoroni.  The route took us through long stretches of empty fields and small towns. These towns were often guarded by young men with ominous faces. I was told that we were passing through areas that were not controlled by the Mexican government but by drug lords.  I was also told we were only allowed to pass unchallenged because we were doctors.  I used my camera discretely during this portion of the trip.

There were at least two hundred people waiting for us when we arrived. Men, women and children were lined up outside the clinic fence topped with barbed wire. The clinic was the labor of love of Gordon Knott, a member of the North Fresno Rotary with help from the club.  Residents of the area knew the schedule. Many had been walking for hours, if not days, to be seen or have their children seen by the American doctors.

Waiting

Walking to the Clinic

Waiting in the sun

The planes carried precious cargo to Mexico beside the volunteers. There were boxes filled with Tylenol, Claritin and other drugs considered as ‘over the counter’ by most Americans.  These donated drugs make a profound difference to bodies that are not accustomed to ‘over the counter’ anything. Drugs were dispensed as per doctor’s orders in Ziploc bags after being counted out by volunteers.

Also on board was a prosthetic leg sculpted for a local man named Castro who was having significant pain with his old prosthetic leg. The new leg was donated by yet another unnamed, unsung hero back in Fresno. It fit like a glove and Mr. Castro walked out of the clinic with his old prosthesis in a blue plastic trash bag. This was only twenty minutes into our visit, and, as I was to find out much later, with 224 patients to go.

Later in the morning I was told about the local water.  The river that provided the drinking water is used by the local cattle as a restroom. It’s also used as a  dump.  To no one’s surprise, bacteria and birth defects are abnormally high in the local population.

I noticed one little girl and her mother waiting for a doctor. She had been born with water on the brain and especially brittle bones. She was almost two years old. I asked her mother if I could take their picture. She was shy but reluctantly agreed.

As soon as I snapped the pic I felt a very emphatic tap on my shoulder. I don’t speak Spanish but I could understand that the young man behind me was insisting that I include him in the picture. He was the father, the very proud father and this was HIS family.

I took the shot and showed him the results on the back of my camera.  It was obvious that here was the source of pride in this man’s life.  I don’t know if I’ve ever respected a man more than I did him at that moment, regardless of our language barrier. Look in this man’s eyes and tell me that images can’t have soul.

I was surprised at the level of activity that morning.  Doctors, nurses, translators and volunteers were working at a controlled, but feverish, pace. I was told that there was a compelling and sometimes heartbreaking question that drove the doctors and volunteers throughout the day. Since the planes have to be airborne and land at our next destination before sunset or risk being shot down, could we get everyone in for medical attention, or would people have to be turned away?

Part II of this short series will discuss a surprising commodity that Ocoroni has in spades – joy.