#TravelTuesday Notre Dame

Happy 850th birthday to “Our Lady of Paris”. Long ago in 1163 the first stones were laid for the construction of a gothic style cathedral in Paris. Work continued for over 150 years and since “completion” rebuilding and reconstructing has occurred on numerous occasions. For the full history you can check out the Cathedral of Notre Dame website, because this is not a history lesson.

Living in America our history is very short compared to Europe. The ages of our churches in the “new world”, even the old ones, span a century, or maybe two. Most of the original places of worship built here were small. They gave sanctuary to a few dozen people. There was no need for giant buildings. The importance of religion in early American settlements cannot be understated. For many people it was the entire reason for the arduous journey across the Atlantic. It seems obvious that the people coming here felt that the God they worshiped did not need giant edifices in which to dwell, he would be just as comfortable in a country church as a grand cathedral. I know many artists work “for the glory of God”, and it shows in their art, and maybe that’s what inspired the architects, builders, and craftsmen centuries ago. I have been inside the National Cathedral in Washington DC, Saint Peter and Paul’s Cathedral in Philadelphia, and several large churches in the United States and the feeling is daunting. There is a power and grandeur emanating from these holy structures. For example, I could shout from the rear of the church and wait long seconds for the echoes to return. They would sound like soft reverberations that have been delayed by a higher power and would envelop me in whispers. The size and scale of the room would seem impossible, and I would feel small and humbled. Maybe that’s what the planners had in mind.
Abroad, in Notre Dame Paris, St. Stephen's in Vienna, and Westminster Abbey in London, the same reverence exists, but deeper. There’s a sense of the ancient, the long forgotten, the blood sweat and tears of the laborers. There’s the odor of age, the coagulation of dust and condensation laying in hard to reach places. There are dates that bend the mind’s sense of time etched in the walls. And beneath it all lies the hallowed ground of graves and crypts of mighty men who changed the course of history. I can’t describe the wonder and feeling adequately; you’ll have to go.

Nikon D800 Nikkor 28-300mm f/3.5-5.6 @ ​28mm f/6.3 ISO 100, 3 image panorama

The Long Wait to Die

The picture below is of a local Christmas tree farm. I thought the pattern of the trees beneath the drama in the sky deserved a picture. Then I started thinking about the trees. I really enjoy Christmas; it’s one of my favorite times of year. I have had real trees that I decorated to celebrate the holiday season in the past but I haven't for a few years now. I have a smaller pre-lit (4’) “fake” tree that my wife and I decorate shortly after Thanksgiving. I talked myself into the artificial tree with arguments such as the ease of care, the lack of mess, even the “If I miss the evergreen smell, I can light a scented candle” rationalization.

I don’t want to get all tree hugging fanatical, but it’s kind of strange how we treat the Christmas tree. I realize it’s not the same as farming livestock, or fish to eat as food, but it isn’t the same as harvesting wheat or grain for nourishment either. The Christmas tree exists for our entertainment; at least that’s the only purpose I can see for inviting one into our home. It’s few weeks of green luster and aromatic pines dwindle, and it is irreverently disposed of in the trash.

In my youth the Christmas tree represented the coming of the holidays, the warmth of family, the joy of friends, the anticipation of gifts and the singing of carols. Today, maybe I‘ve realized that emotion rests within me and I have no need for a dying tree to awaken it anymore.

Nikon D800 Sigma 85mm f/1.4 @ 85mm f/16 ISO 100 1/15 sec.​

Black and White photography

Black and white photography has always been a bit of a conundrum for me. It’s so romantic, so dramatic, so direct, and yet, not real. I enjoy photographing rich colorful landscapes with deep azure blue skies, or magenta sunsets, or lush green sprawling meadows, or bright yellow “pop off the page” daisies. This is how we see, so I’ve always felt that if the photograph was drained of its wonderful palette there must be dark forces at work. One of my favorite photographers, Moose Peterson, recently taught a class on Kelby Training about black and white photography. It’s much more of an art form then I had thought.

Technically there’s a few things a black and white picture needs to have, namely something black and something white. These two obvious necessities give your mind the parameters to frame the rest of the shades of grey. Without a clear black the picture looks like everything is in a fog, without a clear white the picture lacks contrast and becomes just a darkened scene. Think of pure white and pure black like the header and footer on a page. Your brain can see that the interesting stuff is in the middle.

Emotionally, the power and depth that a black and white picture can emote is impressive. As an observer, having the color stripped away lets you look deeper, into the essence of light. Without all the color, the picture feels more precise, more pure, and even more truthful.

I used to wonder if color technology existed at the beginning of television and film, would black and white as a medium, even exist today. Now, I am sure that it would. Black and white images have a beauty that is only possible without color, and sometimes a story is better told without a rainbow of noise.

Nikon D800 Nikkor 50mm f/1.8 @ 50mm f/16 ISO 100 1/60 sec

#Travel Tuesday The South Rose Window in Notre Dame Cathedral

Long ago, around 1260 AD ,the south rose window was installed in the Notre Dame Cathedral. It was designed by Jean de Chelles and Pierre de Montreuil and was donated by King St. Louis. The window’s themes are from the New Testament and focus on the Triumph of Christ. For the meaning of specific panes you can check out this informative website. The pictures on that site are not mine.

A few facts. The window is almost 13 meters in diameter and contains 84 pieces of glass. Some of the panes have been lost and replaced, including the center one. Many of them are now out of order. Beneath the rose window there are sixteen lancets (spear shaped windows) which were replaced in the 19th century. They depict sixteen prophets and the four evangelists.

Sometime in my early schooling I learned of the miraculous rose windows at Notre Dame. I remember a picture in a textbook in history class. I remember the time I made “stained glass” with my grandmother. We melted Crayons placed between wax paper, then pasted them behind cut out black construction paper. When we hung them in a window it gave the general effect of stained glass.

Beautiful as the window itself is, one of the main factors that contributes to its glory is its surroundings. Hearing the whispered echoes refract endlessly in this holy place, smelling the musty incense from almost a millennium of worship, tracing the steps of millions of believers through the recesses of the hallowed Notre Dame, gives a sense of religious awe. To look up and see the spectrum of colors glittering into the immense hall sends chills down your spine and is a delight to the eyes. My picture hardly does it justice. So you’ll have to go yourself.

Nikon D800 ​Nikkor 28-300mm f/3.5-5.6 @ 56mm f/5.6 ISO 1600 1/200 sec