The lost art of walking

In the winter of '08, I inadvertently received one of my favorite photography books as a christmas present. Inadvertent because I was given a gift card to Borders, and well, the rest is history. Over the past year I've read what I could here and there and only until recently have I come to appreciate the treasure I found on Sunset and Vine.

This book embodies everything I admire about the man and everything I hope to build through my own vision. His life's portfolio is so much more than Le baiser de l'hôtel de ville.

A visual historian of the city of Paris is how I choose to approach his work. The stories, observations, and of course his photographs, takes the viewer through the rapid changes of this metropolis while simultaneously going inside the mind of an old man who adores his hometown in spite of many of the transitions.

There are others that have their last names titled with a specific city...Lee Miller's Paris, Cartier-Bresson's Paris etc etc However each vision is completely different. Like with any major city in the world, there are many recording their cities as they know it. Each vision is unique even if the subject has been covered before.That is something I have to keep reminding myself from time to time...and time to time...

At this point in time, my approach to photography is one of preservation. Whether I take someone's portrait or shoot cityscapes, I feel its important to record something that can be used as a visual document in the future. I suppose some artists say "someone else will do it" when it comes to using visual tools for historical purposes. For now, I guess I am that "someone else"

A walk through the Pompidou

Pompidou C.2002 Paris, France

A Parisian reflection

I have fond memories of walking the streets of Paris alone. I spent a huge amount of my free time near Chatelet-Les Halles. Dozens of postcard shops, the Centre Pompidou, theatres, the mall and my favorite internet café were all in that area. With my student pass I’d go to the pompidou centre quite frequently.

One day I went up the futuristic looking escalators and noticed that there was an unlocked door that led to a balcony, with a shallow pond and abstract sculptures. I’ve noticed this spot before but the doors were always chained. I had a cheap little disposable camera (that didn’t even have a flash built in). I always wanted to take certain landscape shots in the city but I always felt embarrassed for taking “artistic shots” with a cheap camera. Even with my regular point and shoot. I’d always see students and tourists with their fancy long lens cameras. I didn’t envy them too much since I felt like I had used up my good luck just BEING there.

The sun was setting on that balcony and I couldn’t explain why, but I just loved how everything looked. The white pipes, the brown sculptures, the steel staircase, the people and the skyline all seemed to neutralize. Not one object seemed to overpower the other. (This isn’t the case from the outside of the museum)

I made sure noone around me could see me, and when I picked up my little camera I noticed the tiny Eiffel tower in the right corner. I felt like a fly on the wall. Quickly I snapped my shot and had no idea what it looked like. It wasn’t until months later that I developed that roll of film. That shot was one of my only artistic attempts of the entire trip. Better than none I suppose.

A walk through the Eiffel tower

Vertigo C. 2002 Paris, France

This isn’t an L.A. story but it definitely planted the seed that led me to pursue photography.

September 2002. It was my very first day in the city of lights and the skies were blue. From what I had heard, that doesn’t happen too often in the fall. Our group leader had advised us to meet in front of the Opera house in order to give us some pointers and suggestions on where to go. Several headed over to the latin quatier but I was dead set on being typical and see the Eiffel tower on my first day there. My roommate Tina accompanied me even though she had been there before. Once we were there I realized I forgot my camera. I didn’t want to lose any more time so I bought a Kodak advantix disposable camera at the Eiffel tower gift shop. 20 euros for 27 exposures. Damn.

The admission price between the elevator and the staircase was enough to give the climb an attempt. I was terrified. I’m already afraid of heights, and it didn’t help that I was climbing an open-air slanted staircase.

Once we made it to the first level I was blown away by the view. I could see the city as far as I could. As we walked to the other side, I made an uncharacteristic look down from the belly of the tower. There was something about the light going through the “lacy” designs of the tower’s edge that caught my attention as I briefly forgot that looking down from loopy heights gives me vertigo. There were three setting on my disposable camera. Full frame, some middle setting I cant remember, and panoramic. I set it to the middle setting and this is what I saw 5 months later when I had this developed.