Three shots from around downtown Los Angeles.
The guy walking in the above shot yelled at me about taking his picture, so I had to put him in.
Downtown Los Angeles plays Garfunkel to Hollywood’s Simon. Taken from Mullholland Drive.
For those not from my fair city, Chicago has one spot, the spot from which everyone shoots photos of the skyline. There are almost always several people snapping away, with entire bridal parties stopping by on a regular basis to get the spectacular backdrop for their wedding photos. If you’ve seen postcards of Chicago or seen B-roll of our skyline, it was often shot here. So you’ll excuse the shot below as nothing new, just a “me too!” perhaps. But if we each have a guilty photography pleasure, the Idiot Photographer’s might be kittens, and mine is certainly cheesecake shots of this city’s skyline. Hopefully my guilty pleasure rubs off on you.
…and for the curious: it’s on Solidarity Drive, the road which runs out to the Adler planetarium.
The Idiot Photographer has for some time been posting shots from our recent trip to Ohio, so it’s up to me to catch up. We spent most of our time in Cleveland, so it’s fitting we begin here. Below: Carnegie Avenue bridge over the Cuyahoga River.
Shots of the Casa Rosada, or pink house, which is the presidential palace of Argentina. One theory on the origin of the distinct color of the palace is that bull’s blood was used in the first coat of paint, supposedly to counteract the effects of humidity on the structure. Whatever the case, it makes for a visually striking building, especially at night.
And here is the Obelisk, meant to celebrate some military victory or other. I don’t remember. It’s enough that it’s tall and phallic, that’s enough for some compelling photography.
The rather esoteric title of this post is a reference to the Edward Gorey of the same name. The story (presented in a form similar to a graphic novel, with each paragraph illustrated with Gorey’s idiosyncratic drawings) details the process by which the protagonist, one Mr. Earbrass, writes a novel, the eponymous Unstrung Harp. While humorous, it presents the act of creation as neurotic, exhausting, self-alienating, and somewhat absurd. This particular story came to mind while I’ve been combing and recombing my recent pictures in order to find pictures that could make the cut for presentation here on The Idiot Photographer. Much like the fictional Mr. Earbrass, I’ve gone through exhilaration and zeal, periods of numbness, and have now reached a stage where most of the last month’s worth of photography seem alien to me. The thing in Harp, however, is that Earbrass is a successful author; he gets lost in the process of creation, but what emerges is apparently a good novel. I wish I could say the same for my own act of creation.
This, of course, is a result of not having been on a shoot in a while; I’m in need of fresh material to edit and agonize over. This will likely be my last post for the next ten days or so, as I leave for Buenos Aires Saturday. Hopefully I’ll return with several memory cards of decent material. Until then, here’s a shot of a tree attempting to escape a ruined apartment building.
For those interested in a neat write-up of The Unstrung Harp, I found this on WordPress.
We all feel a sense of limitless wonder when gazing into the eternity of the night sky. But what are the myriad celestial objects to be seen high above our fair city? This handy guide will list them all, as seen in the photograph below from left to right.
1) Lens flare.
3) Dust on camera sensor.
Now, with the encyclopedic knowledge of the heavens at your fingertips, you’ll be able to amaze your friends on clear evenings. Won’t they be jealous! Who knows, you might even “catch the eye” of the lissome neighbor girl you’ve been ogling lately. What are you thinking? She doesn’t like stupid stars! She like Arnold, the rowing team captain. He’s got everything… muscles; a crew neck sweater from his uncle in Portugal; they say he’s even going to get his own car next year. You are so lame, and the neighbor girl knows it. To think you had a shot with her! What folly! Gee, you should just get beat. Nobody cares about your stars.
Chicago’s skyline has many facets. Viewed from varied distances and vantage points, the city center can look imposing, majestic, or at times surreal. On postcards, views from the lakefront dominate. But I have always loved the view from the near South Side, at a point in the city’s topography where the low bungalows of Bridgeport and Chinatown give way to the utter flatness of river and railyards before exploding skywards north of Harrison Street. The building pictured in the foreground is the only thing that breaks the aforementioned flatness around Roosevelt Road; it is the power plant for the nearby train station and (now defunct) post office. In the background, lit green for National Emesis Awareness month, is the Sears Tower.