I Married a Photographer

Dean shooting a HDR titled "The Elders"

After spending all day Saturday out in the hot sun at our daughter’s field hockey tournament, we planned to attack Sunday with unusual energy.  Constantly running between the kids’ games and practices, we find that most of our weekends are spent at the extremes of straightening the house or lounging about.   It has been a while since we all climbed in the car with nowhere to go and nothing special to see or do. So that’s exactly what we did!  Sunday in the early afternoon, all four of us and the baby (Dean’s Nikon D300) hopped in the family vehicle to a destination to where we rarely ever travel!

With nothing on our minds but a new family adventure, a hint of newness came over me.  It felt good to approach life with a fresh mind, open to explore.  We found our car slowing down around Halfway Dam; we could not resist.  Slowly we pulled the car into the parking space, I heard the gravel under the tires as we came to a stop.  The first door opened.  I felt the hot Spring air sting my face as I stepped out into the afternoon sun.  Seeing photo opportunities all the time, Dean really has become crafty in finding what angles, lighting, and lenses to use in any given situation.  It always amazes me to see him work.  He gets so into his art that my job is not to point things out to him but help him change the lenses and encourage his craft.

In order for you to view any of these images at an excellent resolution/size, you’ll need to become Dean’s contact on Flickr.  He also has posted most of the images on Facebook and JPGmag. After he took some great images of the forest near the dam, we headed up the hill to the overlook area.  This is where things got interesting!  Having little to no expectation sometimes is the best way to go about things. And in this instance it proved correct.  We got to the top of the hill where there is a narrow pull-off on the right hand side of the road. On this day it happened to be lined with cycles.  There were at least 10 bikes there whose owners stood about 20 feet away looking out over the dam talking.  Dean pulled off the road to turn around since there wasn’t a space for us to park and headed back down the hill.  As he was driving away, we talked about how the bikes would be a great untapped resource.  We ran the scenario by one another – ask the owner permission to take a photo, hand him/her a business card, send him/her a print after it has been processed and violá!  We both looked at one another and Dean did exactly what I thought he should, turned the car around.  I was getting a card ready to hand to the bike owner as Dean became excited thinking about how his shots will turn out. He could see the the HDR results in his mind’s eye and just couldn’t resist.

We parked the car and approached the slew of bikers who were laughing and clearly having nice time.  Dean singled out one fellow to ask him which person owned the bike he wanted to take a shot of – the owner agreed.   After asking us if we were cops, which I found humorous, Dean proceeded to take some amazing images.

As we wrapped up the photo session, we waved to and thanked the bikers once again. They all kind of reminded me of my Uncle Jim but that is a whole different story.   We packed up our equipment and headed off to the next destination; taking snaps of the Amish in transit to . . . uh . . . wherever they go on Sunday. Church? One culture to the next, huh?!  Looking back on the day, it was perfect in a number of ways.  Dean has illustrated to me a number of times how serious he is about doing photography full-time and when I see him work I can’t help but think that his talent is somewhat of a waste in an area that underwhelmed is the new overwhelmed.  We continue on though hoping for that shot to get published or to find that perfect studio space.  Everyday one step closer . . .

After writing my last blog entry, Dean and I began discussing the differences in one’s perspectives as a child v. an adult.  For instance, revisiting places from childhood and noting that the setting isn’t quite how you remember it.   Think of your  school play ground , specifically the sets of monkey bars  you played on when they were shiny with a fresh coat of paint. Now after years of weather beating down on them they are rusty, crusty, and much shorter than you remember.  Similarly, stepping into a tree house as an adult with barely enough room to turn around in. Once  inside, you think back on the days when you gathered with friends, made pacts and swore that it was as big as a  mansion.  There is a lot to be said for gaining knowledge,  but with that one loses the innocence and wonder of  being a child.

Dean setting up to take a shot of an old building in the middle of nowhere. The coal region has such a feeling of lonliness.

In the most recent blog entry, I  wrote about an experience that molded a younger me.  Our approach to the  Shamokin /West Cameron  area was a unique experience for me.  I wasn’t afraid of tables falling on me; I hoped to never relive that horrifying gym session with the cafeteria tables stacked high while children ran about (for full story refer to the previously posted blog entry).  Things were not how I remembered them -at least not exactly.  We drove around areas familiar to me, and not.  With each turn it was an adventure.  I returned to that nostalgic locale and what it meant to me; a step back in my life.  Yet as we explored , the majority of our findings were completely new and strange.

It amazes me that one can be in a specific area and not really see anything.  Hence, our fascination with the rediscovery of this particular area.  Both Dean and I spent a good portion of our lives in as a part of the coal region and now we are able to see and appreciate the life and culture it offers us. For Dean, it was going to High School  in Shamokin, but living outside the coal region. He would hear the stories of the other kids ‘going up on the mountain’ to party, or the multitude of stories about other well-known locations that he never got to see. Now things were becoming real and tangible to him.

Our adventure took us to what is commonly called the ‘Third Patch’ area just outside of Shamokin.  We ran across The Wash House going out of Shamokin, PA, up Market St. and out Rt 125. Past the Shamokin Filler and instead of following the highway to a sharp left (all less than 2 miles outside town I suppose) we took an unmaintained ice-covered road up the side of a coal hill. This was less than a half-mile up the hill I suppose.

That was the beginning for Dean, who was just enthralled at the history buried in these back trails.  He took out his Nikon D70 and began setting up to take several HDR (High Dynamic Range) photographs. Dean mentioned trying to capture the mix of beauty and grotesque; the myriad forgotten stories of lives that touched these locations.  Several of the shots, Dean used the normal 50mm lens while for dramatic effect he used the Sigma 10-20mm wide-angle.

If you’d like to view our images from out journeys they can be found at  Dean’s Flickr page

If any one reading this knows of any areas that would be great to photograph, please let us know.  In addition, if you have a vast untapped knowledge of the Coal region and can help us be historically more accurate, it would be appreciated!

Like the oxymoronic title?  This is and update on when and where you maybe have seen Dean’s images.  I was happy to announce in June of 2008 that Die Strafbar Photography was hung at The Kind Cafe in Selinsgrove, PA.  We had about 25 pieces there ranging from portraits to landscapes.  It was our first time in the community and the staff at the cafe were great, very hospitable and easy to work with.  We had our photos there from June 27th to July 18th.

Photographing the remnants of an old stone house on rt 204 in Kratzerville, PA

With little feedback, we were on to our next endeavor. Just a week later, I entered Dean in a local judged contest.  Not completely knowing what to expect, I happily took over some framed pieces ready to be put on display.  I did take a visual survey of the other photography pieces that had been entered but I wasn’t sure for which ones we’d directly compete.  Well, that artist’s reception was just not our ‘cup of tea’ so-to-speak.  There were a good variety of artists there who used their medium as a way to pass the time.  For me personally, I just found it really ridiculous to compare some of them on a fair basis.  Based completely on talent and interestingness, there wasn’t a whole lot offered there.  I felt that our work was so very out of place. Dean’s submitted work was dark and brooding in contrast to the generally placid landscapes and portraits of the other contestants; almost a different genre. All-in-all, it was a learning experience.

In February, Dean and I were in contact with some new people for the Bloomsburg ArtWalk.  This is a great way to get your name out in the community and network with new artists; each artist applies and then is paired with a business in downtown Bloomsburg.  On the designated night, there are sandwich board signs placed in front of each of the participating businesses so that passers-by know to stop in.  The timing for this show was hard for me to manage, Dean was just getting back from a business trip days before the show.  I felt crunch time coming down on my shoulders and I didn’t want to get too ahead of the game.  I had notified the business and was  nervous about this foreign experience.  When the day came that we took our photos in to be hung in Ready Go Burrito, we met with the business owner Sean.  He was wonderful to work with, a very interesting, artsy man who welcomes all types of art in his business.  On the night of the event, all the staff was very open and welcoming. At one point, the joint was packed with people ,whether for the food or the art I’m not sure but overall we had a great turnout.  I also made a point to go visit the artist who was my p.o.c trough the entire experience, Abigail Smith Kurecian.  She was located up the street from us at B Green Loft, displaying her beautiful pottery.  I introduced myself and thanked her for setting everything up in such a mindful manner.

Onto our future, we will participate in the ArtWalk again on May 7th from 4pm to 8pm again in Bloomsburg.  We’ll keep you posted to all the details and would love to see you there! If you know of any other artist-friendly cafes, pubs, restaurants, or galleries that would be willing to work with us, please let us know.

Having a husband who is a photographer is a vastly interesting experience.  I have worked with photographers off and on for 10 years, met  a handful of them and have found that in more instances than not, they really are a rare breed.

Over the past few months, we have entertained ourselves with exploring the Coal Region; driving out there to find a hidden treasure or interview a resident who can point us in a new direction.  Over the Summer, we had the documentary approach to our new journeys, hoping to come across a park bench with a few people who would lend us ideas on how best to approach our findings (and sometimes name them).  Both Dean and I have memories of spending time in the Shamokin/Trevorton region from childhood and every time I visit, I am flooded with episodes and stories being replayed.

I attended a tiny elementary school in West Cameron, it now is some sort of community/lodge hall type thing now -in my opinion, is a total waste.  Our cafeteria, auditorium, music class and gym were the same room.  I remember during gym class, it  was very terrifying playing games like “Red Light, Green Light” and “What Time is it Mr. Fox” because when we had to sprint back to home base, we all headed full blast to the cafeteria tables, neatly folded up at the opposite end of the ‘gym’.  These tables that had the aqua blue stools attached and when not in use and folded, stood about 10’ high, they were like up-side-down Vs an the only thing touching the floor were wheels.  I’m sure there was a mechanism on them that locked them in the upright position but as a kid, I often thought of the dangers of playing under and around these.   And we were often warned by the teacher’s aides to not go near them. EVER!  One time, I remember one of my classmates was sprinting toward the tables and I  heard an ear piercing bang.  By the time I turned my 10 year old head to see, I caught the table on its bounce up from hitting the concrete floor once.  I needed no warning after that.  I wanted no part in doing anything with or near those tables.

Later, in life I had learned to not like the coal region for one reason or another. Honestly, no good reason.  Until I had to work out there. I was a nurse’s aide and had been working for an agency which placed me in various healthcare facilities all over the area.  I worked at the Shamokin Hospital with some of the nicest people I have ever met.  If I could remember their names, I’d give them all kudos, for getting me started in my current field.  Dean and I often talk about how that is the only area near us that has culture.  Defined more by living than the things one  area has.  Though, I don’t necessarily want to reside there, I find the people very entwined with their families and neighbors alike.  A lot of people and things get a ‘bad wrap’ here for how they live but I  notice that a number of the people who I have met from there are sincerely dear people.  Tight with family and religion interested in helping out a fellow human and still holding on to traditions that previous generations have set.

In our outings, Dean has done an number of things.  When he was learning how to take and process HDRs we made a trip out toward Shamokin; and in search of some interesting dilapidated architecture we found a gem in some old mining territory.

Joel B. Vincent, drummer for Blind Chitlin Kahunas

On a clear, balmy winter night, Dean and I approached the seemingly tiny bar just out of the Milton city limits.  With hopes of hearing a great blues band, we approached the door, the boom of music became louder and louder.  Opening the door, the smell of cigarettes wafting up my nares, we entered the single room bar, scanning for an empty area to perch.  Dean, equipped with only his 50mm lens attached to the D300 was hoping to get a few shots of the band.  The lighting was nonexistent, at least not for photographs, and the people seemed to be enjoying themselves.  Luckily, Dean was able to work around the low lighting by using his Nikkor 50mm prime lens at f/1.4, barely.  The inside of the bar was tight, which also limited the available shots. But he was able to get several that bring out the energy of the band and the personalities of the musicians.

After ordering beers and listening to The Blind Chitlin Kahunas  for a few minutes, Dean took the camera and made his way closer to the performers.  I stood at the end of the bar, guarding our beverages and took notice to a few key people in the bar who I was entertained with, the dancing couple (such a forgotten past-time) and common to every bar, the wall flowers.  The partakers of the festivities were an eclectic mix of local business class and trailer dwellers, all congregating in this loud, smoke filled, dimly lit room.  To appropriately illustrate to you  how the bar operated: my husband asked the bartender what Yuengling beer they carried, she replied “Uh, Yuengling.”  At that point, I was glad we had a beer or two already!

Waiting for a friend, Dean continued finding photo opportunities as I sat sipping my Blue Moon, soaking in the experience.  He took about 50 shots that night and once processed, here is what we came up with.  Leaving the bar, feeling full of bluesy-soul and beer in addition to topping off the night with the band’s talent on Jimi Hendrick’s “Voodoo Chile (Slight Return)”,  we’re excited to see them again! Enjoy!

Chris Bovard, guitarist Blind Chitlin Kahunas