The Wall - © Copyright 2012 by William Beem

I’m a suburban kid, not a city dweller. If I were forced to move to a city, D.C. would be right up at the top of the list for me.  Not that I like the bitter cold in winter or sweltering heat in the summer. I just love the monuments, memorials and grand architecture in the city. We should all live within the grasp of such great statements.

During the time I wanted to take this shot, and others at the Lincoln Memorial, it seemed like ALL of us did live in the city.  There was a never-ending parade of student groups.  They descended like locusts – running, screaming & yelling – apparently completely ignorant of the history surrounding them. At the Lincoln Memorial, there was one group that decided the marble slabs running alongside the steps made a great slide.  They’d go slipping down two or three at a time.  I watched one girl nearly crack her skull open by running backwards without realizing there were more steps behind her. She teetered backwards a bit, but was able to save herself.

It took quite a while, but I finally found a quiet moment here at The Wall. I’m not sure if I can say that I have a favorite monument or memorial on the city.  Each one affects me differently, based upon my knowledge of history and if I knew anyone involved. A lot of war veterans became Boy Scout leaders, and I had influences from people who fought in WWII, Korea and Vietnam.

There’s one other piece that’s a bit of a connection to this memorial, though I can’t be quite certain.  My aunt Dorothy was interested in genealogy in her latter years, and she shared a book of our family history with me before she passed.  One part that I remember from that book was that the last person killed in Vietnam was from another branch of our family, but she didn’t reference him by name. That leaves me wondering.  Did she mean the last person killed during the evacuation of Saigon, or the last person killed a few weeks later in the Mayaguez incident?

Neither name is familiar to me, yet I’m left feeling there’s some family connection to this war that I never knew.  All I know is that this wall means something to me that I can’t quite put in the same category as those who know the names listed here, but it still has its impact upon me.

The Metro - © Copyright 2012 by William Beem

As a photographer, sometimes I think my existence is a bit demimonde. Pull out a large camera in a public place and you’ll feel the eyes upon you. Once you’ve been hassled enough, you start to think about taking a photo along the lines of planning a heist. It’s not that you’re doing anything criminal or wrong, but you just want to get something and get away without being caught by some ignorant person who thinks that a photographer is a “suspicious” person.

Suspicious of what? If you think about it, there’s no one you should trust more than a photographer.  After all, we’re not being the slightest bit covert when we setup a tripod with a big honking lens and try to make art out of the mundane. The suspicious people are the ones walking around who won’t make eye contact, if you ask me. Maybe that’s why I always try to look folks in the eye.

Despite the fact that photography is not a crime and the Washington Metro policy permits photography (but not the use of tripods), I should have had no qualms at all about taking this shot. I shouldn’t have felt the need to look for a station without a police presence or Metro staff near the spot that I wanted.  Yet, I felt all of those things.  That’s because the last time I tried to get a shot like this, a Metro worker screamed at me and threatened several times to call the police because I couldn’t take photos there.  She was wrong, of course, because even then the Metro policy permitted photos.

This time, I staked out my heist. I just wanted a photo of that arch.  It took time riding the Metro, looking for the right spot with a platform I could use, without police or Metro personnel around.  I needed to have the right lens on my camera, whip it out of my bag, and fire my shots quickly, then make a clean getaway.  It turns out that being a demimonde is much like being a Boy Scout.  You have to be prepared.

Enola Gay - © Copyright 2012 by William Beem

One of the things I regretted about my previous visit to the Udvar-Hazy National Air & Space Museum was that I really wasn’t into HDR at the time.  While I could go back and make an HDR out of a single RAW file, I wanted to see how the images would look if I had a decent bracket of five exposures or more. Then I discovered that you can’t take a tripod into this museum.  Sometimes it’s a bit confusing knowing where you can and cannot use a tripod in the D.C. area.  This is a Smithsonian establishment and it doesn’t allow tripods or monopods. On the other hand, the Smithsonian National Zoo proudly proclaims on its web site that you’re welcome to bring your tripod (and many people there were making good use of them). Knowing I couldn’t use it, and failing to get any special dispensation to use it in advance, I fell back on my Manfrotto Magic Arm. Once again, a security guard scanning my bag looked askance at my arm and told me tripods were not allowed.  I explained that it wasn’t a tripod, he accepted, and all was good.  I started clamping down the arm and taking my exposure brackets on a stable platform (no high speed winds here, like up on the Stratosphere). Good things never last for long, though. Another security guard approached me and informed me that tripods weren’t allowed.  The conversation repeated about how this was not a tripod.  He was quite nice to me, but a bit unsure if this was permitted or not.  The guard called his supervisor down, I showed him how it worked.  I think it could have gone either way, but everyone was friendly and so was I, and I believe that good attitude is what helped them decide the Magic Arm was OK. Awesome!  I got to spend the next several hours shooting everything in sight with a stable platform.  Suffice it to say I’ll get a chance to play with a lot of material for some HDR images.  If you’d like to do the same thing in places that prohibit tripods, you need two pieces to make it work.

1. Manfrotto Magic Arm
2. Manfrotto Super Clamp

Stick these things in your bag if you’re going somewhere that doesn’t permit tripods. If I’m not 100% sure, then this combo goes in my bag. It’s another option to help you be prepared to get the shot.

The Pulpit - © Copyright 2012 by William Beem

Zion National Park is a huge place, but I think many people only see a few miles along the drive at the southern end. This is the Pulpit in the Temple of Sinewava.  If you’re driving, it’s the end of the road – and a spectacular place to stop.  Towering cliffs encircle you, giving you a feeling you’ve reached the end of the Earth. If you want to understand the insignificance of man, this is a good place to contemplate it.

Getting High in Las Vegas - © Copyright 2012 by William Beem

I think most photographers enjoy getting an elevated view of a city skyline. Las Vegas has a few different places to do that, but the Stratosphere is the tallest.  In my opinion, though, it’s not the best view of The Strip.  You have a few challenges shooting up there.

The wind at that altitude can be exceptionally strong.  You’d think a tripod would help, but they do not allow a tripod or even a monopod up there.  You have to pass through security and they aren’t joking about it.  A guy in front of my had a 6″ long table tripod and they took that away from him.  I have my own opinions about people confiscating my property (that I won’t let them do it), but the other side of that is you don’t go up.  I’m OK with that.  Private property, they can make their own rules.

That’s why I brought my Manfrotto Magic Arm with me.  I called ahead and the guy on the other end of the phone said it was fine.  Of course, the woman working security scans had no idea what it was and she wanted to deprive me of it.  I asked for a supervisor.  After some time dealing with a voice on the other end of the phone and explaining that it doesn’t touch the ground, doesn’t cause a safety issue and so forth, they finally approved it.  The upper deck has a railing all the way around, so I had plenty of places to attach the clamp.

Of course, that wind was blowing it all over the place.  It held my camera up, but it was shaking hard in that wind.  I ended up taking some shots with it, and some handheld at higher ISO. It was a reminder to not feel too clever.  I could keep it somewhat still by pressing my face close and holding the sides with my hands, but I really missed my tripod up there.

When I explained to the security guard that it didn’t post a safety hazard, she said that wasn’t the problem.  ”They just don’t want anyone taking professional photos up there and selling them.”

OK with me.  I’m not going to sell it.  I’m giving it away.  As I’ve mentioned before, my photos are freely available under a Creative Commons Non-Commercial license.  If you want to use this photo for personal use, all you have to do is give me credit and provide a link back to this site.  You can find a larger version on my Flickr page.

The Other Side of France - © Copyright 2012 by William Beem

One of the things that seems to spark intense debate among photographers is cropping.  It seems like such a simple thing, but I’ve witnessed a few fierce arguments over how a photo should be cropped, or even if it should be cropped it all.  Some people will become rather obstinate about how you screwed up with the original capture because you should’ve been closer, used a different lens, or any other number of excuses because you didn’t get the composition they wanted in-camera.  It’s entertaining to watch if you aren’t involved.

People quote rules as if they were carved in stone.  Never have your horizon on the middle, this would be better if it were composed by the Rule of Thirds or along Phi. Much like the Pirate Code, I think of these rules more as guidelines.  They’re good advice, but you can ignore them if you want.

There is only one rule that I think is imperative.  Create your photo to make yourself happy. I experimented with different cropping on this photo.  No doubt, some folks would actually prefer one or two of the crops that I rejected. If they were paying me, I’d crop it any way they wanted and give them the result. Since I wasn’t paid to take this photo, I decided that the result I liked best is the one I composed.  Critics will always be there, but that doesn’t mean you have to let them push you around.

The Surfer - © Copyright 2012 by William Beem

That lonely surfer out there must’ve been praying for some waves, but they just never came. I know a bit how he feels, except that I was praying for some clouds during this sunset at Blind Pass, between Sanibel & Captiva islands. You can’t always get what you want. However, he’s proof that you get what you need.  Without that silhouette, there wouldn’t be a reason to show this photo.

Hoover Dam - © Copyright 2012 by William Beem

My mother would be very unhappy if she saw me leaning over the edge of the Hoover Dam to get this photograph. On the other hand, she doesn’t like to fly, so I was pretty sure she wouldn’t be around to chastise me. Some little boy ran and hopped up on the ledge near me and his mother was quick (and quite right) to scold him for it. His father, on the other hand, told her to lighten up a bit.  That must be the joy of parenting. It’s a good thing my mother didn’t see me when I was on that bypass bridge looking back at the dam, either, but that’s another story.

I can tell you that February is a wonderful time to visit Hoover Dam.  The weather is comfortable and the crowd level is relatively.  Compare that to summer time when it’s blistering hot and many times more crowded. It must be like a trip to hell in those months. Folks who work there tell me the handrails are so hot during the summer that you would rather fall down some steps than grab them.

Photographers Are Delicious - © Copyright 2012 by William Beem

Lions love me. You can tell he just wants to pounce on over and say hello, right? That’s why I figured this was the perfect photo to show on Valentine’s Day.  Nothing but love!

It’s not like he’s imagining me with steak sauce, or anything like that.

The Virgin River - © Copyright 2012 by William Beem

I visited Las Vegas last week to gather some information for a new book.  Before I left, I made a list of the shots I wanted to get, locations I needed to visit, and prepared everything in advance. That’s just the way I am.  No spontaneity.

That went out the window when I made a decision on the flight out of Orlando to visit Zion National Park.  It’s been on my list to go back for a while, and it suddenly occurred to me that I could make it happen on this trip. I called my friend Andy, who lives in nearby Henderson, and we took a three hour drive up to Zion and wandered around the scenic route for a few hours.

The rushing water of the Virgin River surrounded us.  Even on the drive there, we encountered this river a few times. It beckoned me. Florida rivers don’t rush.  Things are slow in the South. The Virgin River isn’t that large or deep.  In fact, I could cross it in two jumps in some places. What it lacks in size, it makes up by being a fast & slippery little sucker. I know it’s slippery because I damn near slipped and fell into it a few times working my way across on those rocks.

I crossed the river to get to this vantage point, took my shots for a while, and then decided I found a better way out from my precarious position on the rocks. Unfortunately, I underestimated the ground on the bank. Most of it was fine, but there was a section that had some seepage from somewhere that I hadn’t noticed. Basically, it was red muck.  Slippery red muck.  My foot want in, sank a bit, and then I started sliding very quickly down into the river.

Being from Florida, I’m no stranger to muck and I reacted quickly.  I put my other foot down where the first one landed and repeated the same result.  I said I reacted quickly, not wisely. After running in place like Scooby Doo for a while, I finally figured out some different footing and got the hell out of there. My better path slung red mud all over my shoes & pants and had me climbing up a steep wall for about fifteen feet – all while carrying a tripod & expensive Nikon camera. I returned to the rental car out of breath and somewhat filthy, but I got my river shot.

Please enjoy the photo.  I suffered for my art.