Photo of the Week: Feb. 11, 2010

HOW I GOT THE SHOT: The curtain is rising on spring in Israel as the landscape emerges from its winter watering to a drama of color that becomes an event for many Israelis. While wildflower viewing is certainly a feast for the eyes, Israelis also view the spectacle with a deep appreciation for the miracles of God's handiwork. Someone wrote to me recently that Israel is a small country with a big attitude. That's certainly true, and nowhere is that attitude more evident than in our affection for the country's natural beauty.

This week's photo was captured courtesy of a hot tip from a friend whose home overlooks this vineyard. Like all landscape photos, the effort lay in scouting the location and arriving at the proper time of day, in this case, moments before the first rays of morning sunlight struck the land. There is a softness to this first light that often lasts only a couple of minutes but which makes all the difference in producing the ethereal quality of the image. These pink wildflowers, the Egyptian Campion, grow in several regions of the country, including the Judean Mountains south of Jerusalem, where this photo was taken.

I composed the picture using two guideposts. First, I wanted to stagger the vines in a way that leads the eye from the front to the rear of the photo. Secondly, I included some trees and background to give additional context to photo's setting. For an excellent resource on Israeli wildflowers, including a comprehensive library of photos sortable by flower color plus interesting history and trivia, visit www.flowersinisrael.com.

Photo of the Week: Feb. 3, 2010

HOW I GOT THE SHOT: This week's photo falls into the category of "when life gives you lemons." Walking along the shore of the Red Sea in Eilat last month, I looked skyward and frowned at the thick clouds enveloping the region and scuttling chances for an eventful afternoon shoot. I paused to sit on a cement wall at water's edge and removed a persimmon from my camera bag, peeled away the skin with a pocket knife, and considered my options. Then I looked down at my feet.

I think the most successful artists are those who learn to see what's closest to them, and who are not in constant search of life's grandeur. I often tell my students good photographs can be found anywhere, and frequently within an arm's length of where they are standing at that moment. I hadn't thought about these thousands of colored rocks and I had no idea they existed until I chanced to spot them.

Glistening and clean in the tidal action, these rocks are a visual symphony, and it wasn't hard to find a grouping that included a pleasing range of colors, sizes, and shapes. And here's how I made the lemonade, with assistance from the clouds: Bright colors look richer on overcast days, when there is little direct sunlight to bleach their hues. Appropriately, I pulled my close-up (macro) lens from my bag, snapped it onto my D-300 and held it above this small sampling of beach, careful to keep the camera parallel to the ground to preserve edge to edge sharpness. Remaining open to something new led me to the gate of good fortune.

Photo of the Week: Jan. 28, 2010

HOW I GOT THE SHOT: The heavens finally opened up over Israel during the past week, bringing an end to a long spell of weather so mild that fruit trees began showing blossoms on the first of January. Because I live in the mountains, some 900 meters above sea level, winter storms don't pass over us, they pass through us. The tail end of one storm left the region shrouded in thick fog, and I had a vision of creating a sort of minimalist photograph with snow white blossoms set against a sea of white smoke. By the time I found an opportunity to shoot, the fog had lifted, but left behind remnants of the fallen moisture clinging to the blossoms.

As the calendar turns to the month of Shevat, so must the almond trees bloom in Israel. Choosing one randomly not far from my home, I set up my tripod and camera mounted with a macro lens for close-range shooting. Finding an appropriate subject takes a few moments of scanning the tree until my eye catches a candidate, which must also survive further scrutiny for blemishes, torn petals, or, most importantly, distracting backgrounds. It's a delicate process maneuvering the camera close to the subject and several times I gently knocked an adjacent branch, emitting shock waves that scattered the beads of rain and ruined my subject.

In the end, I did succeed with several images, including this one, which I chose because I like the way the background mimics the mottled look of the flowers holding drops of rain. With a macro lens, the subject is often mere inches from the front of the lens and the result is very shallow depth of field, perfect for throwing everything out of focus, except for the main subject. As the full moon rises in the sky this weekend, we mark Tu B'shevat (Jan. 29-30), the new year for trees in Israel. May we continue to merit the blessing of rain and seasonal renewal.

Photo of the Week: Jan 20, 2010

HOW I GOT THE SHOT: If photography were a normal occupation, I would be out shooting 8-10 hours every day. Sadly though, in the digital age, many photographers now spend more time anchored to their computer than stalking the wilderness. Every now and then, I do go out into the world with the singular purpose of creating new images, as I did last week when I had four entire days to prowl Israel's southernmost desert region, in and around Eilat. I owe a huge debt of gratitude to my wonderfully supportive wife, Sara, who provides this ample space for creativity, accomplishment and success in both my work and my life.

This photograph was taken in the area of Nahal Shehoret, about 10 kilometers north of Eilat. Typically, I dragged myself out of bed at 5 a.m., stole past the dozing desk clerk and motored in the darkness toward a predetermined area, though I had no specific stopping point in mind. After driving six kilometers along a bumpy, dirt road, I stepped out of my car to inhale the morning air and inspect the landscape in the first light of dawn. This range – one of the most beautiful in the world - is comprised of multi-colored sandstone peaks, the result of different oxides found in the various rock masses. The most interesting photos of these mountains are those which allow the different colors to stand alone while also helping to forge the composition as a whole. Though the various shades of sand, pink, chocolate and even black are visible in many places, pulling three or more into one compelling photo is very difficult.

I parked my car, grabbed my tripod and bag, and walked a few meters up a slight incline – always looking for high ground to improve visibility - and I discovered this small field of boulders. From experience, I knew that light hitting these rocks from a side angle would give them dramatic form and provide strength to the foreground of the picture. I aligned my tripod facing northward and waited for the sun to crest the mountains in Jordan. Not a single living, green, growing thing in this shot; only the mind-boggling beauty of the meeting of landscape, light and lens.

Photo of the Week: Jan. 12, 2010

HOW I GOT THE SHOT: This past Shabbat, we recited the blessing for the new Hebrew month of Shevat, which begins this coming Shabbat. Among the prayers for the new month is a request for rain (in its season), something Israel desperately needs. Unfortunately, the region is in the midst of a long stretch of gorgeous weather, which, while very enjoyable, has not contributed to replenishing our depleted water supplies. I chose this week's image somewhat fancifully, out of a desire to see the country blanketed in snow at least once before winter's end. When a severe weather event dramatically alters a familiar landscape, it's easy to take satisfying photos because everything we see is new and different. This photo was shot two years ago, in the morning after an overnight storm dumped about 20cm on the Judean Mountains. A few hours into daylight, the sky was already clear and the meltdown had begun. With the roads closed, I set out on foot to a valley near my home. I was drawn to the piles of fresh powder covering the rocks in the foreground. They evoke a sense of the texture that accompanies a walk in the snow and return me to that blissful morning.

Photo of the Week: Jan. 5, 2010

HOW I GOT THE SHOT: In the 1980s, one of my mentors, the incomparable alpinist and adventure photographer, the late Galen Rowell, developed the idea of image maturity – how some pictures are so ahead of their time that they are not believed to be real. Nowadays, an opposite phenomenon has taken hold, what might be called image fatigue – too many pictures of the same subject. As a professional, I fight this in my work, because more often than not, photo buyers request common images, such as the olive grove landscape, one of the quintessential visual representations of Israel.

I shot this photo in the Misgav region of the Galilee, while on an assignment for the Jewish Agency two years ago. En route to our meeting place, I drove a small road along the spine of one of the Galilean hills with a dramatic overlook to the valley below. I pulled over and admired the bright green, fresh-winter growth and how it combined with the darker foliage of the olive trees and the reddish-brown earth. The image presented here is almost full frame, but I pondered the edges for some time before settling on this crop. Because there is no clear focal point to the image, I tried to strengthen the border to keep the viewer contained, albeit wandering, within the frame.

Fortunately, nature never holds its pose too long. Even the most frequently photographed subjects provide new opportunities for novel interpretation.

Photo of the Week: Dec. 29, 2009

HOW I GOT THE SHOT: Beauty may be in the eye of the beholder, but everyone agrees when something is totally cool. I can only imagine the superlatives that issued forth from workmen at a quarry near Beit Shemesh when they accidentally blasted their way into the Soreq Cave in 1968. Although only 30 minutes from my home, I had never been tempted to visit because, frankly, as a photographer, I shun places that have no light. But a winter storm and school vacation combined to motivate our family to make the short trip during Chanukah and we were not disappointed.

The photographs of the cave I had seen prior to my visit, much like the four I offer here, do not do justice to the experience of being inside the huge cave. The millennia-old stalactites and stalagmites, ever growing and changing, are lit with carefully positioned spotlights that enhance the stunning visuals. Using this available light with my f1.4 50mm lens and ISO cranked up to 800, I grabbed a few shots without a tripod during the short walk through the cave and several more during the two-minute shooting time allotted at the end of the tour. In addition to working in extremely limited light, I had to overcome lens fogging as a result of bringing my cold camera into the humid cave. I wasn't prepared for this and was stymied for about 10 minutes until my camera warmed up enough to stop moisture forming on the glass.

These four shots represent some of the diversity found in the cave. The lower right image features what is called a wall, where stalactites forming from above meet stalagmites growing up from the ground. For all of us, bearing witness to such phenomena in nature fulfilled any need to capture a perfect image for posterity. Truly a cave of wonders.