Photo of the Week: May 5, 2009

HOW I GOT THE SHOT: In my ongoing pursuit of personally satisfying photographs, I encounter the same subjects over and over again. Sometimes I walk away uninspired, but on other occasions, I look for ways to build on what I learned from working with the subject previously. This small section of farmland outside Metulla on Israel's northern border has been a treasure trove of excellent photographs for me. On my first visit, I was enthralled by the colors of the trees in spring blossom, and worked on getting a shot that emphasized that small detail of the landscape. The air quality during that first visit was so poor, however, that pointing the camera anywhere above the foreground horizon revealed only a dull, detail-less white haze. Returning again a day after an air-cleansing storm and shooting from a slightly different vantage point, I tried to build something more complex that revealed the larger grandeur of this area, set in the foothills of the Lebanon mountains.

I like this shot because it works despite the challenge of bringing together two visually unrelated pieces. As the first light of the new day creeps over the ridgeline, the blossoms and new buds begin to glow. The mountains, on the other hand, are awash in a bluish, early morning haze and back lit by the sun, which is rising behind them in the upper right corner of the frame. Exposing for the foreground, I knew I'd lose most of the mountain detail but I also knew I could bring most of it back. After uploading my memory card, I opened this image in Photoshop and boosted the contrast while reducing the exposure of the upper half of the composition in order to reveal the various ridgelines as they appeared to my eyes as I took the photo.

The final trick to bringing it all together was my choice of lens: A 200mm telephoto, which compresses the depth and makes the distant peaks look closer to the foreground. The photo's clear division into two parts creates a visual tension but at the same time elevates its sophistication and appeal. At least it works for me, and that's the only goal a photographer should seek with his or her personal work.

Photo of the Week: April 28, 2009

HOW I GOT THE SHOT: Today is Yom Hazikaron in Israel, Memorial Day for fallen soldiers and victims of terrorism. Each year, the list grows longer and now stands at 22,570 names. Across Israel, in every city, town, and kibbutz, at historic sites and countless schools and public buildings, memorials are a solemn reminder of the courage and sacrifice upon which Israel was built.

I took this shot at night at Latrun, a tank museum and memorial situated on the road linking Jerusalem and Tel Aviv, following an emotional ceremony in which 500 new Israel Defense Forces recruits marked the completion of their basic training. A lone wreath lay at the base of a wall inscribed with hundreds of names. The unusual color is the result of the camera's rendering of the artificial halogen spotlights illuminating the wall. I could have adjusted the color to something more familiar to the eye, but the warm tone enhances the somber feeling of the picture. I could also easily have moved closer to the wall to capture one or more of the names in sharp focus, but I prefer this interpretation, in which the vast number of names is evident, but no single name is identifiable. Those who gave their lives in defense of Israel are remembered painfully and proudly by those who knew them personally, not just today, but every day. All of us, whether we knew them or not, owe them a debt of gratitude for our national existence. May we go from strength to strength!

Photo of the Week: April 21, 2009

HOW I GOT THE SHOT: Standing at the base of a thundering double waterfall, spray misting in my hair and eyes, it's hard to imagine Israel has a water shortage. But return to this spot at the start of summer and you'll be lucky to see even a trickle of water dribbling over the 15-meter cliff. The Ayun Stream flows through Metulla, at the northernmost point of the Galilee panhandle. The park's canyon and highlands offer a family-friendly, two-hour hike that bypasses four waterfalls, of which Hatachana Falls, pictured here, is the most spectacular. For the photographer, this waterfall is also easily – and safely – accessible from a variety of angles. I photographed at the base of the waterfall, where I had to continually cover my camera with a handy bandana as I composed to prevent the lens from gathering moisture. I like this shot, taken right on the trail from above, because it best conveys the overall grandeur of the site. Moving water lends itself to two possible interpretations. A very fast shutter speed will capture the flying molecules in total sharpness. Alternatively, in this photo, I slowed the shutter speed to 1/6 of a second to smooth out the cascading water for a more romantic rendering. Either way, the camera captures a view of nature that remains hidden to the human eye.

Photo of the Week: April 14, 2009

HOW I GOT THE SHOT: As a parent, there is no subject which offers more opportunity for outstanding pictures than one's child. Until now, I've managed to abstain from including a photograph of one of my four children in this series, but on the occasion of my oldest child reaching the age of legal adulthood – and with her permission – I thought it appropriate to do so now. Certainly nothing better fits the category of beauty in Israel than a young, talented, intelligent woman reaching maturity.

As part of her high school certification, my daughter Liora chose to take a 5-point exam in cello, an instrument she has been playing since she was 11 years old. Part of the examination includes a public recital, where I took this photograph, just minutes after stepping off a 16-hour plane trip from California. The room was fittingly dark and the organizers chose to light the stage with one continuous hot light set back about 10 feet from my daughter. Accompanied on the piano, Liora played an emotional 30-minute set of Saint-Saëns, Bach, Haydn and Schumann, while I quietly snuck around the stage shooting without a flash. The photo meets several criteria that I use to measure my success. First, there is interesting light. Shooting directly into the hot light, but lowering my shooting position so the light itself is hidden, creates beautiful rim lighting around her profiled head. The shot is also taken from an unusual angle with a close crop, slightly obscuring the picture's content and engaging the viewer to try to make sense of what he is seeing.

As Passover draws to a close this week, we pause to commemorate the crossing of the sea, one of many great miracles G-d performed for the young nation of Israel on its path to freedom. As my daughter crosses over into adulthood, I bless her that she may meet all of life's challenges with both faith and fortitude.

Photo of the Week: April 7, 2009

HOW I GOT THE SHOT: Most of the time, life in Israel is quiet, normal, maybe even a little boring. But it never lasts very long. So when an axe-wielding terrorist entered a nearby community last week and murdered a 13-year old boy and fractured the skull of a 7 year old, we all paused from our routines to cry, mourn, rage, and then attempt to reset our balance. In these moments, Israel doesn't seem so beautiful.

At the Passover seder, we are supposed to relive the exodus from Egypt as if we were personally enslaved and then liberated via God's miracles. It's a valuable exercise in this era of religious freedom and affluence, when we can easily forget our history and take our freedoms for granted. For many of us, however, reality supplants any need for fantasy at the seder.

This is a photograph of an orchard in Bat Ayin in Gush Etzion, where Shlomo Nativ, hy"d, was killed. I drove by the area a day after the attack and noticed the pink blossoms once again lighting up the mountainside, yet their radiance was dulled by the ache in my heart. It's a picture from another time, whose beauty seems marred by the violence which occurred in its midst. There is no question that we must stop and mourn our loss. But our strength as a nation and the true exhibition of our freedom has always been our resiliency, our ability to stride beyond adversity and continue to live in appreciation of nature, of creation, of each and every one of our blessings.

Photo of the Week: Mar. 31, 2009

HOW I GOT THE SHOT: Fortunately, I now have spies who send me cryptic emails like, "There's some pink stuff on the hill across from your house. You better check it out." Sounds simple enough, until you understand that the hill in question is on the opposite side of a deep valley and only accessible by foot. For several weeks now the terraced hillsides adjacent to Efrat, where I live, have been colorfully segmented into patches of green, pink or yellow enclosed by stone walls that neatly delineate each farmer's plot. And if you're me, you traipse across the valley in the late afternoon, only to discover the sun is on the wrong side of the hill for the shot you want so you decide to wake up before dawn the next morning and repeat the hour-long trek. At least the second time out I knew the trip would be worthwhile.

I pitched my camera under this almond tree, in a spot I had discovered the day before. I had been concentrating on photographing the flowers and vines, but felt dissatisfied because the layout of the hill demanded that a portion of the sky, which was empty of clouds, be included in the shot. In this photo, the silhouetted branches fill the void created by the still cloudless sky. I mounted my camera on a tripod and pointed it to the northeast, with the rising sun - off to the right of the frame - throwing soft, morning sunshine on the wildflowers and stones while the bowed almond tree and stumpy vines retain their dark and mysterious form.

Photo of the Week: Mar. 24, 2009

HOW I GOT THE SHOT: I still recall the first time I set foot in a back country forest in New England and my disappointment at the chaos and debris which littered the woods in every direction. Though the petals of a rose may appear flawless, nature often falls well short of a tidy perfection. It's important to keep this in mind when attempting to photograph the grandeur of the natural world. Even as the camera is sometimes able to remove from view what the photographer finds undesirable, it still must contend with the disorder of what remains within the frame.

I spent two days in the north of Israel earlier this month, hoping to record some of the annual spring renewal. I met with some good fortune on my first morning when a heavy squall drenched the landscape, and, more importantly, cleared away dust and pollution that are a nagging impediment to good landscapes. After taking shelter in my car for about 20 minutes, I emerged to a virtual Brigadoon, a moist and magical (and very muddy) yet short-lived sunshine and crystal-clear air. With the storm still visible on the horizon, I set up my tripod in the sodden ground and composed a shot that, more than anything, was an attempt to capture the clarity and brilliance of that vanishing moment. My wide angle zoom pulled all the way back to 12mm brings together in absolute sharpness the heavy clouds, the wet sheen on the rocks, the streaking yellow mustard flowers, and the blades of grass bent by lingering raindrops. My boots stayed wet for hours but my heart danced the whole day through.