Capitol Reef #1: Hardly a great fan of cubism, I surprised myself in making this image one August day under a mid-day sun in Capitol Reef National Park, Utah, and I have become more attached to it ever since. While this cliff is usually scrutinized and enjoyed for the petrogylphs placed there by Native Americans centuries ago, I was also attracted to the random fractal patterns created by strong sunlight playing on its slowly exfoliating face. In this particular view, I enjoy the many faces of varying size, shape and orientation which I perceive to be there, symbolic of our own complex, and often contradictory personalities.

Comfort: This image is a part of one of the very few "commissions" I have ever undertaken as a photographer. Asked to make portraits of Lucy, a beloved aging canine companion of some friends of ours living at the time in Alexandria, Virginia, I happened to undertake my assignment on a day when Lucy's mistress was not feeling well herself. With her comforter taking up so much space in the photograph, my title for this particular photograph is somewhat of a double entendre. And with Lucy still getting used to my presence, it is somewhat conjectural as to who was comforting whom more - Lucy or her mistress.

Hephaestus: This image seemed to me an apt modern-day manifestation of the ancient Greek god, Hephaestus, a strong though physically impaired god who worked with metal and made weapons of war as well as jewelry and other beautiful objects. He is said to have worked in his forge beneath the surface of the earth, just as this plumber did in the basement of our home, here fashioning a furnace chimney, from scratch, out of sheet metal.

Inspiration Point: Whimsy has been one of life's great pleasures for me, made all the more satisfying when one has the opportunity to capture it on film for the later enjoyment of others unable to share it in real time. This image of an empty wheel chair at an overlook at Inspiration Point in Cedar Breaks National Monument, Utah was just such a moment for me, although I admit that not everyone shares my somewhat Larsonian sense of humor. (Dare I risk demeaning Gary Larson, my favorite cartoonist, here with such an association?) Having been assisted to stand so that she might see better over the railing, the lady formerly occupying the chair and her party drifted off to the left and out of what became my picture. Then, left to my own devices, I readily imagined the unseen occupant of the wheel chair having simply been carried away forever by the beauty of the appropriately named Inspiration Point.

Jalopy Mirror: Originally photographed to be part of an ambitious project expressing America's enduring love affair with automobiles, I found this young woman's charm, openness and spontaneity so endearing that I present it here as one of my favorite "portraits." I had initially planned to capture her in my preferred manner of the subject's unawareness of the camera, but she was too quick for me and I found myself having to explain my intention to catch her likeness twice in the same picture. As she turned to better understand my meaning, I was able to capture this lovely sprite transforming a car door into a mirror. This picture was taken at an annual car show just outside of the pleasant little town of Marathon, which we happened upon on our way back from a scheduled function in Ithaca, New York.

Parade Rest: The title for this image is somewhat of a play on words, as the term "parade rest," at least militarily, relates to a formal position of rest for troops assembled in formation, while my use of the term refers to the young boy taking advantage of his father's compassion and strength during the last leg of a parade. The occasion was St. Anthony's Festa, being celebrated by the Portuguese-American community in Pismo Beach, California. The picture was taken on Bello Street, near the church at the end of the parade - a neighborhood of this world-famous beach resort that few visitors would probably ever see otherwise. The time was portentous, being less than a month before September 11, 2001. I consider this my best portrait ever, it having captured the freely given and unassuming love of a father for his child better than words ever could.

Ratty's Place: One of the most enduringly entertaining pieces of literature over the course of my life has been "Wind in the Willows" by Kenneth Graeme. As a documentary-type photographer, I occasionally feel somewhat limited in the subject matter before my camera, but in this instance, Ratty and Mole and many of the other, lovable and not so lovable, creatures of Graeme's imagination would surely have felt right at home along this little riverbank. Ironically, I might never have discovered this quiet manifestation of my childhood fantasy were it not for the fact that my intended French destination, Les Forges du Buffon (right beside it), was already closed for the season. As it was, I could get no closer to this scene because of the chain link fence through which I had to shoot in order to recapture just a bit of my childhood.

Shades of Lachaise: A February image, possible only for brief periods of the year on cloudless mornings, with the colossal statue of "Standing Woman" by Gaston Lachaise between the low winter sun and the "chaise" along one wall of the Hirshhorn Sculpture Garden, set below ground level on the National Mall in our nation's capital. Although my title for this image is perhaps too cute, I do enjoy the ephemeral, somewhat surrealistic nature of Standing Woman's shadow contemplating the empty bench before her.

Shadow Mirror: A "grab shot," if you will, of a wonderful wrought iron lantern casting its shadow on the wall supporting it in that most enchanting, romantic and photogenic of villages in Greece - Monemvassia. This picture was taken fairly early in the morning, on the 16th day of May. To this day, I still wonder how many (very limited, probably) opportunities the position of the sun allows this lovely lantern to cast its shadow in such a way as to turn the opaque wall that supports it into a mirror. Within a few moments of taking this picture, the position of the sun had changed relative to that of the lantern and the symmetry of the shadow enabling the wall to serve as a "mirror" was already gone.

Sidewinder: In order to capture this and some other, more subtle, aspects of White Sands National Monument in New Mexico, we were up and out on the dunes before sunrise. Only in the very low, raking light available at either sunrise or sunset is such an image possible. Given my partiality for abstract images, this trail of a sidewinder rattlesnake cutting a graceful, almost melodic, wake through a sea of gypsum sand was a natural winner for me, although it clearly hasn't been for jurors of contemporary photography exhibitions. I am comforted by the words of one of my favorite landscape painters, the great John Constable, who said "There is room enough for a natural painter. The great vice of the present day is bravura, an attempt to do something beyond the truth."

Sleigh Ride: Although I have never considered myself a particular advocate or devotee of surrealism, every once in a while something of a surrealistic nature literally stops me in my tracks, so perhaps I should consider myself something of a cryptosurrealist. In any event, this backyard full of antiques in the little village of Onnens (Vaud), Switzerland was just such a track-stopper for me. As this place was not open at the time of our visit, I was forced to shoot through the chain link fence that separated me from all of the fascinating objects pictured here. And while I have always abhorred chain link fences for generally marring the landscape, as a photographer I must admit that occasionally they have facilitated views that I might not otherwise be privileged to enjoy.

Symphony in Stone and Snow: Not an easy image for me to capture. We had just undergone a heavy, wet snowfall on the February morning of the day this picture was taken. The temperature was already near or above the freezing point, so I had to hurry into Washington, DC (about a 45 minute drive for me in this case) in order to capture our National Cathedral still cloaked in winter. Even as I composed this image, I (as well as my tripoded camera) was being bombarded with the accumulated snow falling from the tree above me in the Bishop's Garden. The just-clearing storm clouds added considerable drama to the setting. By mid-morning, almost all of the snow and all of the clouds had disappeared, rendering this brief but very special symphony finished.

The Arm: This "grab shot" was taken on the ferry to Vinalhaven, Maine on the same field trip in 1995 which also yielded "Vinalhaven Reflections." For me, this man's arm, completely surrounded by vehicles parked on the deck of the ferry, was immediately symbolic of the disjointedness that our lives often seem to experience in the contemporary world, where the ubiquitous automobile (to say nothing of other technological achievements of the age in which we live) predominates.

The Light Above: As with many others who have visited the magnificent cathedrals of Europe, I am almost always awed by their ethereality, generally when entering them from their western entrances, affording the opportunity to admire their length, breadth and especially height in one glance! The cathedral in Seville, Spain is no exception in this regard, but it does have another location (pictured here) where one is afforded another chance to reflect on the mystery and inspiration of religious structures, at least when the cathedral is not too crowded. I remain ignorant of the reasons for the nature of the space presented, other than to know it represents the outer wall of the cathedral's "cabildo," often referred to as "sala capitular" in other Spanish religious structures, which is analogous to a council chamber or chapter house in cathedrals elsewhere. And although I have been fortunate to enjoy many such spaces in the course of my travels, this is surely one of the more graceful and transcendent of its kind.

Three Graces: As I am a "flâneur" at heart, generally preferring to photograph in a clandestine manner in order to obtain candid portraits of people, this posed photograph is rather an exception for me. Nonetheless, it remains my favorite group portrait, even though I made it more than a decade ago, back in the summer of 1997. Having been a frequenter of diners in my youth throughout the 1950s and early 60s, I become quite nostalgic whenever I happen upon such a throwback to that era. Gwen's Diner, in the small Acadian community of Middle East Pubnico, Nova Scotia, was no exception. Moreover, the warmth and friendliness of the people operating Gwen's was such that I found myself violating my own modus operandi by asking them for the favor of a portrait in their work surroundings. As photogenic as the dining area was, I found the kitchen area suited my needs better and this image is the result of a very pleasurable collaboration with some very charming people.

Vinalhaven Reflections: If there is ever a place where Norman Rockwell's imagination is still manifested on a daily basis without fuss or bother, it surely has to be the little island town of Vinalhaven, Maine. There on a field trip led by Fred Schreiber, then with the Maine Photographic Workshops, I was captivated by the place and its people. Although this might seem to be a "grab shot," I actually had a bit of time to work it out to my satisfaction before shooting. In fact, an earlier shot of one of the gents in the store already appears on this web site ("General Store" in the exhibit "Juror's Choice"). To me, there is a Rockwellian timelessness to this lovely woman sharing the latest gossip with two gentlemen friends in the town's general store. That I was able to capture a bit of the flavor of the town in the reflection of the store window was the icing on a very wholesome cake for me.