Art is where you find yourself.
Being yourself can be scary.
Have the courage to be different. When you’re creating art, it flows from within, and you mustn’t stifle that voice just because you fear people won’t like it.
Who loves your art is not for you to decide.
Your only job is to share that beautiful, awe inspiring celestial light from within you, so that the people who love your light can find it.
Find yourself
in your art.
I can’t believe this building had only been open for less than a month when I took these photos. I could tell it was new, yes, but I had no idea of how new. If I had, I probably wouldn’t have hesitated to share these images. At least, I’d like to think that I wouldn’t have. But I know it would have played out just the same, because what held me back was the look and atmosphere of the images.
You see, for the longest time, I held the believe that any images I put out needed to be “Commercially Viable.” Whatever that means.
I took it to mean that they needed to be bright, cheerful, eye catching in a fraction of a second on instagram, or they wouldn’t be worth anything to anyone, especially a potential client or someone that might have a commercial or professional use.
But, I started to notice a trend recently that began to help me feel a little bit free. I noticed a tendency in architectural renders to have mood and weather. In particular, I remember the renders of a building in Williamsburg that were set on a very rainy, cool blue day. I immediately loved how cinematic and atmospheric they were.
Suddenly… I knew:
I love this.
These are the images I want to make.
Weather
makes
wonder.
Almost every time I’ve been booked the state of the weather comes up:
“Oh, it’s going to be sunny on Thursday, let’s shoot then.”
No. Sunny is not the ideal weather for every shoot, every time.
Sure, you can make some beautiful photos on a sunny day, don’t get me wrong. But we’ve all seen a million bright sunny photos in every real estate listing and advertisement. Happy sells, I suppose.
But, does it make you feel?
Does it get you really dreaming deeply about what it might be like to stand in that spot, to soak it in, to become a part of it and be transported?
There is so much MORE TO BE FELT when there is a greater sense of atmosphere, mood, even mystery.
darkness
pierced
by light
Deeply thoughtful architecture photographer Simon Devitt speaks of he wants the image to pull forth a feeling in that makes you ask “what happens next?”
Something that gets you wondering, thinking, getting actively engaged and involved in the story the images tell.
So, with that, and some other inputs I’ve had recently showing me that maybe people can appreciate some dark, moody, cool images with a ton of atmosphere and snow, I feel a lot more like it’s time to show this side of myself more in my work.
I had a grand revelation earlier this year, while reviewing some images from last year, that night, twilight, or interior darkness pierced by light is the biggest running theme in my photography,
It reminds me that light itself is, and always has been, my favorite subject to photograph.
Oh man, that gives me an idea. I should have a portfolio on my page that is just the most light-centric photos I’ve ever taken. Oh boy, what a gallery to behold. I guess the existing “personal style” section is kind of that.
But I could refine it so much more.
I wasn’t thinking,
I was gliding,
guided.
by emotion.
So the funny thing here is that of this series of images, as much as I am blown away by the sweeping curves of the building, the dark materials, and the commanding, imposing presence of the building from my low vantage point, it is the series of exterior lights that really draws me in and does the magic for me.
This isn’t the image that I think most people will gravitate toward. It’s not the large “hero” shot that shows the building looking all big and powerful and imposing, making a huge statement of “here I am, look how important I am.”
This has more of a graphic vignette that focuses on the repetition of shapes and pools of light from this series of street lamps, as well as the repeating façade of the connector hallways above.
But as I made these images, it wasn’t a concious. It just flowed out of me. It was Csikszentmihalyi’s Flow State. Effortless, intuative - art.
For that reason, I always thought of them as “personal work” and not as something that should be on my portfolio of professional architecture photography.
But I recently heard a line of thinking on this subject that really resonated with me:
“The same person shows up to the shoot.” - Simon Devitt
It’s
always
You.
Simon was speaking on how even if you shoot different things in different ways, you are the person, the photographer, that shows up, and all of the images you produce are part of your style. There is a reason you feel compelled to make these images, even if they are different from others, because it is still YOU that is making them.
And the ones that you do not make for anyone else, for any agenda or set of rules you pushed yourself to adhere to, the images that just flow forth without thought, those are the real you, your real essence, the truth of who you are and how you see.
And isn’t that the most beautiful and wonderful part of yourself you could possibly share?
Isn’t that the purest art?
And if it is, what are you saying about your belief in yourself if you’re not willing to share? If you push it down as “oh yeah this is just a little thing I made for fun, it’s not important, you don’t need to see it.”
NO NO NO
they ABSOLUTELY MUST see it.
Your art is your child,
all it asks
is to be put out into the world
so it can find those
who love it.
Your job is just to make it and set it free.
So it can go off and have its life in the world, and do what it is meant do it. It is not for you to keep caged up and secret inside of you. That doesn’t make the art happy. That isn’t the life the art came here to live.
Opening a new category of subject
For a long time, I’ve thought that what I wanted most was to photograph the most gorgeous and luxurious homes in the world. It was always residential architecture that drew me in, but as I’ve grown as an artist and photographer, I’m reminded that there is wondrous beauty everywhere, and that jaw dropping beautiful scenery is not just the provenance of homes of the world’s wealthiest.
There are also beautiful buildings accessible to us all, set in heartbreakingly gorgeous locales.
I let myself to get too ‘used to’ the Hudson Valley when I lived there. Yeah, sure it’s gorgeous, but I’ve driven over that bridge a hundred times to get to the train station, to head of to New York, the “real city” where the “real work” is happening. By that I just mean that’s where I was getting my paying photography work, so that’s where I always thought I needed to be to continue to make a living as a photographer.
It was completely foolish and misguided. There were, and are, incredible projects to create images around. This one case in point. A sweeping, curved building that is as much a showpiece for the city as it is a place with wonderful views of nature for those within. It undulates mirroring the road and river before it. Its organic form is a joy to view as you travel past it.
Eye catching, striking, but not harsh.
I’ve seen other photographers that shoot hospital photos, and the images of ultra-bright inviting waiting rooms and technical photos of medical imaging machines were never of great interest to me - but that was because I was overlooking the art inherent in the structure. That said, a lot of hospitals aren’t as focused on looking beautiful and integrating with their landscape as this one is. So it’s not an opposition to shooting healthcare, it’s just finding the right projects that resonate with me, and capturing them in my way.
Many of these photos I took on the “back” side of the building. The main entrance and atrium are up the service road, under that little connector bridge you see in the image with the streetlights. I had walked in the lobby, but I love to be out in the snow and weather, and I felt a little out of place in there since it was so empty, new, and had a security checkpoint. If I’d been hired to shoot it, sure, I would have felt free to move around.
But at the time, I felt I shouldn’t linger.
My preference was for being outside and wandering around in the snow, and that lead me down the road to the service entrance and loading bays. Generally this part of building is just a dirty necessity, and isn’t graced by beautiful design. Here, this part of the building faces the highway, so it’s on display for everyone to see as they pass by. As a result of that, or merely because the designer is considerate, this part of the building is lovely to behold, too. So much so that it became the focus on my photography on this session, and nearly every image I kept from right down here.
Impetus
I was here because my son, just over 1 year old at the time, was having ear tubes inserted in the nearby outpatient surgical center. It was still during the time of covid rules, so only one parent was allowed back with a child. So, I chose to spend the time wandering the grounds and taking photos, and I am so happy now that I did. There’s an element of ‘right time, right place’ in these shots that I really love. I talked about the weather earlier, and how if I were scheduling an photoshoot, I probably wouldn’t have previously selected a dreary, overcast, snowy day, thinking that I should opt for something with a chance of stronger light.
And, that said, I am starting to envision some truly jaw dropping imagery of this building at sunset, with light raking across the river and glimmering the windows of this building. But that will have to be for another time, or if I can convince someone to hire me to make such an image - while this hospital was only 20 minutes away when I lived in New Paltz, I’m now so far away in New Jersey that it would take me several hours to get there, though I could get there by train, which is nice and not extravagantly expensive. That’s to say, going there would be a commitment, especially to hope for good weather. But isn’t that the life of every photographer?