Photo of the Week: May 19, 2009

HOW I GOT THE SHOT: The Dead Sea is without a doubt one of the strangest places on Earth. Vast and lifeless, its mineral-rich waters offer, paradoxically, life-giving therapy to a variety of human ailments. From a distance, one might imagine he is looking at the Arctic Sea, as iceberg-like salt domes dot the shoreline. And much like ice, they crunch underfoot and change form with time and the action of the water.

Walking along the shore one early morning last week, I let my camera hang from my shoulder as I admired the aquamarine colors of the water and an occasional bizarre, salt-encrusted chair or other man-made object, and luxuriated in the cleansing silence. This particular morning, a slight breeze wafted across the water, disturbing the absolute stillness which often creates beautiful symmetry between the odd salt formations and their perfect reflections. As a result, I chose a shot which plays on the relationship between the sky and land. The two sections of cloud are roughly mirrored by the pool and the salt accumulation that make up the photo's foreground.

A seascape is entirely flat, so it's difficult to gain an interesting perspective without elevation. I did manage to position my tripod on a salt dome, raising the camera over my head, first calculating the exposure and then composing and focusing without looking through the viewfinder. A few minor corrections and I had the shot I wanted. I hadn't been to the Dead Sea in quite some time and this visit restored my appreciation for this desert jewel and inspired me to return again to the lowest place on earth to record some of the highest natural beauty Israel has to offer.

Photo of the Week: May 12, 2009

HOW I GOT THE SHOT: This week's dispatch features a slight departure from tradition as I'm sending two photographs. There is so much more to photography than simply learning how to use a camera and pointing it at something pretty. When asked what camera I recommend buying, I invariably answer that for most people, it makes no difference. My most important tools are my boots (when attached to my feet!), my eyes, patience and motivation. This pair of spring field portraits will help explain why.

I shot these two photographs within 20 hours and within 20 feet of each other. Standing in an almost identical location, I was able to capture two vastly different interpretations of this floral field of dreams near the Sha'ar Hagay intersection of the Jerusalem-Tel Aviv Highway. I stumbled upon this site by accident after making a wrong turn en route to an assignment. After finishing with my client, I returned and spent an hour wandering and inhaling the heavenly sights and smells.

My boots: From my parking spot, I had to walk about 100 meters to the edge of the field, an easy trek but for having to ford a section of mud that eventually soaked my boots through to my socks. It was midmorning, and I fought with the bright, contrasty light, trying to get a shot of the entire expanse of purple and red.

My eyes: Failing, I trod into the thick of the growth, poking around in hip-high flowers and grass, trying my hardest not to trample even a single flower. Although I didn't get any winning shots at first, my initial observations led me to narrow my focus, which enabled me to spot a patch of wheat growing amid the flowers.

Patience: Inspired by occasional gusts of wind, I got a bit whimsical with this shot. I lowered the shutter speed as much as I could to 1/25 of a second so as to allow the flowers to blur as they danced in the breeze. I waited until the wind kicked up again and took the shot. The fluttering grass creates a strong focal point to what would otherwise be a beautiful, albeit monotonous, display of wildflowers.

Motivation: Unhappy with the lighting conditions on my first visit, I returned the following morning at sunrise, with a head full of ideas for exploiting this location. It's never easy to get out of bed in the dark, but this second photo is a reward for shooting while the rising sun is at a very low angle, casting a golden glow on the delicate red petals. I also chose to position the camera, which was mounted on a tripod, at a height just above the tallest flowers so as to maintain a view of the flowers in the distance. I pushed my wide angle lens up to the nearest flowers and pointed the camera down ever so slightly, which had the effect of adding emphasis to the immediate foreground.

Exposing in these situations is critical, so I always bracket a few shots to make sure the brightest areas are not over exposed. Many great photographs lie in wait. To find them, you have to move in, look around, and stand by until the right moment to shoot arrives. If that doesn't work, hang it up and see what tomorrow brings.

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.