Photo of the Week: Jan. 29, 2014

HOW I GOT THE SHOT: There is an old trick pro photographers employ to find great shots in places they’ve never visited before: they head to the nearest newsstand and scan the postcard rack. I could have used some help the first time I sped off to the Western Negev in search of the Scarlet South, the Jewish National Fund’s annual wildflower festival. With a photographer friend in tow, I drove around for several hours and stopped numerous locals to ask, “Where are the flowers?” Nobody knew. We returned home empty handed.

The following year, I did my homework and charted a course for the Ruchama Forest, which lies opposite the community of Ruchama off road 334. Traveling down the road, even at moderate speed, there is nary a clue of the magnificent treasure concealed but a short bump and a shake down a dirt road. Carpets of red anemones, which cover the forest floor and which give the festival its name, lie hidden beyond a series of low hillocks.

This shot features but one aspect of this annual spectacle, a thinly planted grove a young Eucalyptus trees with their colorful spring companions. The floral display is fleeting, peaking in mid-to-late-February and dying out in early March. If you go, I guarantee you won’t just be seeing green.

TECHNICAL DATA – Camera: Nikon D700, tripod-mounted, manual exposure, center-weighted metering mode, f/16 at 1/200th sec., ISO 400. Raw file converted to Jpeg. Lens: Nikon 70-200 zoom at 125 mm. Date: Feb 21, 2012, 9:54 a.m. Location: Ruchama Forest, Western Negev.

Photo of the Week: Jan. 15, 2014

HOW I GOT THE SHOT: I passed an almond tree this week during a late-afternoon walk in the Judean Hills. It stood four meters tall with a network of spiny branches studded with hundreds of tightly-closed buds and a single white flower clutching a high branch. I could see the nearly-full moon rising through its leafless crown. I stopped to gaze at the lone blossom, which seemed to be saying, “I know it’s early and it’s near freezing at night but duty beckons and the almond trees in Israel will flower on Tu B’shevat, no matter how cold the air." The new year for trees begins at sundown this evening.

This week’s photograph features peach blossoms, which appear around mid-march, somewhat later than their almond counterparts. I stopped to study this image because I had just finished writing a critique for a student who had sent me a photo with two jousting subjects. I had advised him not to try this tactic too often, as it confuses the viewer, who can’t decide what to look at and gets dizzy moving his eyes back and forth across the image.

But this technique does have one distinct benefit: in the confusion, the viewer may make a more careful study of the image as he or she tries to sort through the visual content. Here, the pair of blurry blossoms are large enough to demand a second look, even though the eye bypasses them initially in search of sharper subjects. The tension caused by the duality of subjects helps anchor the eye instead of driving it away. So let your creativity flow, at least until you find yourself talking back to the trees.

TECHNICAL DATA – Camera: Nikon D200, tripod-mounted, manual exposure, center-weighted metering mode, f/5.6 at 1/80th sec., ISO 100. Raw file converted to Jpeg. Lens: Nikon 28-105 macro zoom at 78 mm. Date: Mar. 22, 2007, 2:49 p.m. Location: Gush Etzion, Judean Mountains.

Photo of the Week: Dec. 19, 2013

HOW I GOT THE SHOT: There is the calm before the storm. There is also the calm during the storm, not in the eye of the hurricane, but rather in the silence of industrialized civilization sliding to an icy halt. And then there is the calm after the storm, as anxiety wanes and routine returns. The full moon rose over the white Judean Mountains on Monday evening, slowly and serenely and, not unlike Noah’s great rainbow, it shone a bright beacon across snowy hills, signalling that nature’s fury had subsided.

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For photographers, the biggest snowstorm to hit Jerusalem in 150 years provided ample entertainment as well as immaculate atmospheric conditions, following the storm’s departure, for wintry crisp and clear pictures. When it is full, the moon rises in tandem with the sun’s disappearance on the opposite horizon. It is well illuminated by the sun throughout the night – rising yellow or orange depending on the amount of atmospheric haze – and gaining brightness as it ascends in the sky. Though not apparent to the human eye, the moon moves quickly so that a fast shutter speed (generally 1/125th sec. or faster) is required to capture a sharp rendering of details.

This photo was shot about 20 minutes after the moon appeared on the eastern horizon using a 135mm prime lens to enlarge it and bring it a bit “closer.” I also waited for the moon rise higher so that it would cast some glow on the snow-drenched hills and perhaps even catch of glimpse of China’s Jade Rabbit crater hopping on high.

TECHNICAL DATA: Camera: Nikon D700, tripod mounted, manual exposure, evaluative metering mode. Raw file converted to Jpeg. Lens: Nikon 135mm DC, f/8 at 1/200th sec., ISO 400. Date: Dec. 16, 2013, 4:38 p.m. Location: Efrat, Gush Etzion.

Photo of the Week: Dec. 13, 2013

HOW I GOT THE SHOT: Nothing illustrates nature’s ephemeral beauty quite like a snowstorm in the Middle East. Although temperatures frequently approach freezing during winter here, the conditions for snow accumulation only converge about once every three years.  And when snow does fall, it usually vanishes entirely within a day. The upside is most everyone loves the heck out of it, especially kids, who get to skip school and frolic outdoors.

From a creative perspective, snow transforms the landscape into something entirely new, full of promise and adventure as every rock, branch and leaf takes on a new personality. Over the past decade, grapevines have become the plant of choice for farmers working the hills of Gush Etzion, just south of Jerusalem. They drop their leaves in fall and require careful pruning to boost fruit growth. These vines have received their winter haircuts and the numerous spindly tendrils hold the powdery snow in tender balance. 

Snow is one of the trickier subjects for cameras to handle, because, in short, the camera doesn’t know that it’s supposed to be white.  Because snow is so bright and reflective, the camera underexposes the scene and snow will appear muddy, dull and gray. To override this problem, it’s best to force an overexposure – by using either exposure compensation or adjusting manually – by at least one stop, probably two, depending on how much of the scene includes white. Having mastered that, you can set your camera aside and get to work on the snowman. 

TECHNICAL DATA:Camera: Nikon D70, tripod-mounted, center-weighted metering mode. Raw file converted to Jpeg. Lens: Nikon 70-300 zoom at 180 mm, f/11 at 1/400 sec., ISO 400. Date: Dec. 28, 2006, 8:52 a.m. Location: Gush Etzion, Judean Mountains near Efrat.