Canyon de Chelly & Navajoland

We have finished the last of our 2009 regularly-scheduled workshops, and I have been working like the fabled banshee doing all the student galleries. They are done except for the photographs from our “student winners” and those who did private workshops with us. As I sit at the computer, day after day, hour by hour, I reflect on the wonderful trips we have experienced and all the amazing people we have both met and welcomed back to Barefoot Contessa Photo Adventures. We feel privileged. The work that they have produced should be inspiring to those who look at the galleries.

As I have written in the past, one of the good and bad things in running workshops is keeping up with the blog. It’s good, because it means we have been devoting all our energies to our students. It is bad, because I can’t keep up with the blog when we are so intensely involved in the workshops. 

And for those who have kept track of our computer woes, all three computers are home and up and running.  Whew!  Fortunately, I am a bulldog when it comes to backing up.  This is fair warning to others.  Even Macs can die, and if you don’t have your work backed up, especially your images, well, I don’t need to tell you just how you-know-what you’ll feel if you lose it all.

We are home for what looks like three months. Wow! Amazing! We are really lucky, as we have had a house and MooseCat sitter who has been terrific. Hannah made instant friends with our Maine Moose Cat. When he got sick during our 11-week road trip, she took him to the vet and nursed him back to health.  Thank you, Hannah! Actually, MooseCat is actually a Maine Coon Cat, but if you met him, you’d see why we named as we did.  Petit, he ain’t!

Exhibit

For those of you who live in North Carolina, or who pass by on I-85 or I-40, we have an exhibit of some of our photographs at Cup A Joe on West King Street in Hillsborough, less than five minutes north of the highways on Old 86. The exhibit will run through the end of this month. We have been getting some really good comments, so we are quite pleased.

Canyon de Chelly & Navajoland

Because so many people have wanted to see our images from the various workshops, I’ll start with a few from Canyon de Chelly. For those who don’t already know, it is pronounced “Canyon d’SHAY,” from the Spanish mangling of the Navajo word for canyon, Tséyi, that literally means “inside the rock.” It is second in size only to the Grand Canyon and is unique among National Park Service (NPS) units, because it is comprised entirely of Navajo Tribal Trust Land that remains home to the canyon community. NPS does not “own” the park, rather works in partnership with the Navajo Nation to manage it.

For me, Canyon de Chelly is one of those magical, mystical places that speaks to my soul. I don’t mean cartoony magical, rather magically special. I always feel “at home” here, and I am not even Navajo. I love the sense of history, the grandeur, the awesomeness yet intimacy of the canyon. There is increasing evidence that people have inhabited this land for well over 2,000 years, perhaps even longer. The Navajo who grew up within the canyon walls revere it, as do many of their cousins who grew up nearby. In the Navajo tradition, everyone is related, everyone is a cousin.

In fact, as we were scouting and doing our own photography before the workshop, Arnie got to chatting with a gentleman up on one of the canyon rims while I was out on a cliff edge photographing. It turned out that Ben had a son who was one of the accredited guides for the National Park Service in Canyon de Chelly. Ben called him on his cell and made the introductions. We made arrangements to meet, and when we did, it was clear that he would be perfect. No “cattle-car” tours for us!

In order to go into the canyon, visitors must have a Navajo guide. Not just any Navajo, but someone directly connected to the canyon. Even Navajo neighbors are considered visitors and need a guide unless they, too, have a direct connection to those who live within the canyon walls.

Canyon de Chelly is just plain magnificent.  With canyon walls that tower above Chinle Wash, one feels like a small speck.The light is ever changing, from deep shadows that make fascinating patterns on the canyon walls to backlit morning scenes that are misty and somewhat ethereal.

We were lucky to get some pretty amazing skies while we were in Arizona. As part of our scouting, we headed out to the badlands, an eerily desolate section of land that looks more like a moonscape than something of this earth.

There were dark stormy skies alternating with patches of bright sky that added life to the subtle plant life and patterns in the land, and we couldn’t wait to bring our group here.It really was quite funny when we did bring them back. As they got out of the cars, their faces went blank. A glazed look came over them, and instead of grabbing their camera gear, their arms hung limply at their sides.

“What the @&%#,” we could hear them thinking. They looked around and figured Arnie and I must be off our rockers. Then they started really seeing and scattered across the ashen hills.

Clouds gathered, and we could not drag them away! Thunder rumbled ominously closely, and we could not drag them away! A dangerous thunderstorm was galloping toward us, and instead of seeking safety in their cars, they turned their attention to the dramatic skies, hoping to catch a bolt of lightening in their frames. And we still could not drag them away!

It really wasn’t until I reminded them more strongly that we were the tallest things out there, that they started to pay attention. Just one more shot! Lightening was prone to zapping the earth, as it did when I clicked the shutter for this frame. This wasn’t the only bolt that struck earth. Finally, they heeded our warning and quickly sought the safety of their cars. We headed back to the lodge to grab a bite before the restaurants shut down for the evening.

This wasn’t the only great sky we saw. In September, we celebrated some of those skies in the blog called Glorious Skies. Many of you wrote to say how awesome they were. That same week, after I wrote that blog, we had rainbows dipping down to the canyon floor and promising gold. We even had double and treble rainbows, but this was the shot I liked with just a hint of the second arc.

You cannot come to Canyon de Chelly and not go into the canyons themselves. As least I can’t. They host a gold mine of Anasazi ruins, petroglyphs, pictographs, and magnificent scenery.

Some of the ruins are high up on the cliffs. Our guides reminded us that erosion lowered the canyon floor a 100 feet. Rivers will do that. Think of the Grand Canyon.

So, while the Anasazi built up on the cliff walls, they had to put water dams in front of the doors so that the water would not enter the abodes when the river was in flood. That would not have been necessary if they had built way high up.

Because of the varied terrain, however, some of the communities were built on higher ground where there was no flooding. Those are still pretty close to the ground. We visited quite a few and were fascinated by the sophistication of these early architects.

Our guides shared many stories of their ancestors and of their gransparents who had taught them many of these stories. We were enthralled and felt so lucky to have this experience. I think our hosts were equally pleased. What better than a captive and interested audience?

On our way up one of the canyons, a scene caught my eye. We were trying to meet someone, so I didn’t even bother to say, “STOP,” but I kept in in my mind for later. After many stops and numerous filled flash cards, we headed back out.

As we approached the area, I asked our host if he would mind stopping for a short bit on the way out. He was amenable, so I warned the others to be ready to grab their cameras and tripods, as the light was fading, and we would not have much time.

I bolted out of the car and raced barefoot across the sand to the place I had targeted for my shot. I did just two shots, one horizontal, one vertical, and by the time the first of our group joined me, I was through, stepped aside, and helped them compose their photographs. It was a great way to end the day, and while it wasn’t our last day at Canyon de Chelly, it’s a good image on which to end this blog.

Workshop Updates

We already have a lot of sign-ups for our 2010 workshops. People & Culture of Belize and Savannah & Her Lowcountry are our two first workshops of 2010, but we already have people signed up for our last two next fall. As we always urge, if you are even contemplating joining us for one of our workshops, make your room reservations now. One of the B&Bs that hosts some of our New England Fall Foliage participants is already full … of our people! You can always cancel later if necessary and not pay any penalty! If “our” inn or hotel is full, or if you prefer to stay elsewhere, we always have links to other choices.

Remember, too, that spouses and SOs are always welcome to join us. The 2009 season saw a number of them. We go to some great locations that they enjoy, even though they aren’t photographers themselves.

Comments from you are always encouraged and welcomed. If you do not see the “Leave a Reply” box below this article, it’s probably because you are still on the Home page. In that case, click on the Comments link at the end of all the tags just above “Older Posts” at the bottom of this box or just click on the article title at the top and the “Leave a Reply” box will appear down at the bottom.

Remember, you don’t need to be a WordPress member to do so. Even if you choose not to do that, we hope you will share this blog and our website with your friends and relatives who love photography.

Monthly (ish) Newsletter

If you want to be added to our newsletter list (we send them out about once a month), write us through the Barefoot Contessa Photo Adventures contact page.

A Personal Pet Peeve — Bad Manners

I know, I know, I’ve been way behind in writing my blog. That’s what comes of being on the road for nearly 11 weeks. It has been a great almost-11 weeks, though. With five workshops and a lot of enthusiastic participants, we couldn’t be more happy. The comments we’ve been getting leave us drop-jawed.

Over the next few weeks, I’ll share images we’ve done from Summertime on the Maine Coast, Canyon de Chelly, Arches, Canyonlands & Moab, Fall Aspens & Ghost Towns of Colorado, and the just-completed New England Fall Foliage workshops. Frankly, when have I had time to do any imaging? I have all I can do to keep up with emptying my mailbox of Spam! Who invented Spam, anyway? Tarring and feathering comes to mind as an appropriate punishment! Perhaps boiling oil poured from a great height?

Added to this, the monitor on Arnie’s laptop (my old one) died, so he hasn’t even had a real chance to go over his photographs. Bit by bit, we’ll catch up and share some of them with you. Arnie wants me to do a blog on “Margo, the Horse Whisperer,” so stay tuned for that one, too!

One of the things we really stress in our workshops is being aware of others around you and having good manners about trying not to walk in front of another photographer or not hogging a particular spot too long. We encourage people to seek their own vision and bring their own interpretations to a scene.

I was appalled last week, not at our group, because they really tried to be respectful, but at others at one of our locations, an oft-photographed farm in Vermont. A number of our participants were equally appalled.

It’s old-fashioned to some, but many people were brought up to respect the property and space of others. We were also taught to ask permission before treading on someone’s land. We call it “being housebroken.” Today, we see more and more of, “If it’s mine, it’s mine; and if it’s yours, it’s mine, too.” Hmmm. I wonder how those people would feel if the tables were turned?

We arrived at our location to find a workshop group already there. We expect that, as this is a popular spot. What we didn’t expect was people lined up, almost shoulder to shoulder and facing the same way. Some were even in the middle of the road, totally unaware that it was a public road that the farmers and residents use often. I can’t and don’t blame them. That’s the fault of their instructor for not letting them know or for not knowing himself.

I have been photographing on this property for over 25 years, and as you might surmise from the above, I have always asked permission. Long ago, the owners said I didn’t need to ask; I had a permanent “pass” to photograph on their property and to bring our workshops there. Even so, I ask every year. To me, it’s just plain good manners. It is, after all, private property, as opposed to some other parts of the country where there is a lot of public, open land.

Our group gathered their photo gear and went straight toward the beautiful mists that were floating through the valley. At that point, there was no interesting light on the farm below. One man, an imposing dark bundle of parka and camera bags, the husband, we learned later, of one of the students in the other group, charged ahead in front of everyone, planted himself without regard of anyone else in his group or ours and snapped away. I certainly don’t object to his photographing, but he was very inconsiderate of the photographers in both groups.

At one point, the instructor came up behind one of our participants and tersely asked how long she was going to stand there, as though he owned the land and held all rights to it. She was not in anyone’s way and politely told him, “Until I’m done.”

Our group got some great shots that will be on the website as soon as I can process them. I suspect the other group saw that we found other subjects more interesting than the farm and that our cameras were pointed in various directions, depending upon the individual’s eye and interest. They drifted away from their appointed position at the crest of the hill above the farm and came over towards us. Most were polite, but not all. Some wondered what we were doing there. They seemed to think this was their territory and their property. Sound like their instructor? Again, I fault him for not making it clear, and I fault him even more for not asking permission to bring his group onto the property.

There is a “donation” box at the road side. Some of our participants wondered if he even made a donation for his group.

A second workshop group arrived. Their instructor told his group to wait for the light. We could not believe that he didn’t see all the other things there were to photograph and point his students in those directions. Perhaps he did after we left. As we were gathering up our group, he asked, “Aren’t you going to wait for the light?”

“I’ve been photographing here for years, and our group has gotten some great shots already. We’re headed down the hill.”

“What about my group? You’ll be in the way.”

“No, I’m just going down the road and will be out of the way in just a minute.”

I backed the car out of the field and headed down to the farm. Three people were standing in the middle. I asked them politely if they realized that this was a public road and that traffic sometimes went through pretty quickly. I also suggested that they might want to be careful, as traffic wasn’t going to expect them in them in the middle of the road. They thanked me, and I was out of sight in 30 seconds.

On the way down, I saw the bundle of husband and camera bags by the pond right beside the farmhouse. I could not believe it. The presumption of him being so close to the farm. The attitude that he exhibited. I wonder how he would feel if people invaded his property without permission. I suspect he would be “pissed.”

I chatted with the owner, and we caught up on this and that. We talked of my mother. He had done some painting for her many years ago and still remembered her. She used to come to the farm, too, to paint oils and watercolors and always asked permission.

I asked him how many people had asked permission to photograph there. I was the only one. On one hand, I could not believe it; on the other hand, given the attitude of some of the people that day, I’m afraid I did believe it. That doesn’t so much speak well of me as poorly of the others.

We got to talking about the hoards of people who invade the farm each fall. Our host related how one afternoon, some buddies had come over to toss horse shoes and enjoy the afternoon. A couple of cars came by, pulled into his driveway, belched forth a gaggle of foreign photographers who started clicking away. No “Hello,” no asking permission, no “Thank you.” It frustrated him, as people are often rude to him.

After chatting for a bit, I went back uphill. Some of our participants reported polite “discussions” with one or two people who didn’t think we ought to be there. Again, I fault the second instructor, too, for not explaining the lay of the land and for not asking permission. He talked to Arnie, as he wanted to make sure we would not be in the way when we photographed below. Again, curious. I don’t think he pays the taxes on the property, nor did I hear him tell his people to be respectful of our participants.

Back down at the farm house, different-sized jugs of maple syrup were set out on a table with prices. Our host and his family make a lot of syrup each year at the sugar house right down the road, and I always encourage our participants to buy syrup from him, if only to take back to the B&B where they are staying. It is an easy way to thank the owner, and it supports his business. It’s just plain good manners.

We did try to stay out of the line of sight of those above, but there were times, in order to get the shot we wanted, our participants were “in the way” for some of the time. We did, however, try to hide behind trees and bushes.

Our group ended up buying quite a few jugs of syrup. Again, it was such an easy way to show our appreciation for the generous hospitality. And he told me he really appreciated it.

I wish more people took this attitude. Sure, there are still plenty of people around with good manners, but I find it troubling that there are an increasing number of people who take things for granted, especially some leaders who, in our mind, should set a better example.

This is not the only place I have seen this lack of respect for property owners. My mother and I used to live in an “hysterical” district with lovely old houses. We were always amazed at people who would get out of their cars and wander across our lawn to take a picture. I would always ask them, “Excuse me, may I help you?” It was a gentle reminder that they were on private property.

I could go on, but you get the point. I assume many of you have had similar experiences. Perhaps you’ll share them in our comments below.

Workshop Updates

We have added some new workshops for 2010: People & Culture of Belize for February (this workshop is limited to only ten people), Spain’s Andalucia and the Alhambra for early June, and Sicily, Crossroads of the Med for late June. In addition, we will be going to Zion National Park in September.

As always, if you are contemplating one of our workshops, be sure to make room reservations early. There are a number of locations where rooms will go quickly, often months ahead. You can always cancel later if necessary and not pay any penalty! If “our” inn or hotel is full, or if you prefer to stay elsewhere, we always have links to other choices.

Remember, too, that spouses and SOs are always welcome to join us. The 2009 season saw a number of them. We go to some great locations that they enjoy, even though they aren’t photographers themselves.

Comments from you are always encouraged and welcomed. If you do not see the “Leave a Reply” box below this article, it’s probably because you are still on the Home page. In that case, click on the Comments link at the end of all the tags just above “Older Posts” at the bottom of this box or just click on the article title at the top and the “Leave a Reply” box will appear down at the bottom.

Remember, you don’t need to be a WordPress member to do so. Even if you choose not to do that, we hope you will share this blog and our website with your friends and relatives who love photography.

Monthly (ish) Newsletter

If you want to be added to our newsletter list (we send them out about once a month), write us through the Barefoot Contessa Photo Adventures contact page.

Glorious Skies

We’re in our sixth week of being on the road. We started out heading Down East for our Summertime on the Maine Coast photo workshop, then to New Hampshire for my mother’s service and an annual reunion with childhood buddies and their “spice.” At the end of August, we began our journey westward with a stop in the Chicago area to visit our “kids” and grandkids for several days.

I always love driving cross country. We have traveled to many parts of the world, all of which we love, but we do live in a magnificent part of the world. With the exception of, perhaps, Australia, our country has an incredibly varied landscape with a geological history that well shows the power of nature.

When we do our road trips, we get in the car and drive long stints, taking turns at the wheel. While Arnie was driving, I took the time to catch up on paperwork, my computer plugged into one of those wonderful power converters. From Chicago, we headed southwest down through Illinois to Missouri. Our first stop was in Joplin, almost on the Missouri/Oklahoma border. The next day, we traversed Kansas and its miles of rolling hills planted with various crops, then into Texas, passing wistfully yet again by the sign to Palo Duro, a place that one day I will visit. It seems that my timing is always wrong for a stop there. Perhaps next year…

Gertrude (our GPS) indicated that we were making good time and that Albuquerque was a good place to spend the next night. I love Alburquerque and have made many stops there over the years on my way to different parts of the Southwest, to San Diego, to the desert, etc.

After checking in at our hotel, we headed into Old Town and wandered about. Tourism is definitely down. What is usually a vibrant and bustling part of town was very subdued and quiet. There were no waits at the restaurants, and many of the shops were closed earlier than I remembered from my other visits there. A concert in town may have had something to do with it, but still, there were plenty of parking places, so our economy has had a definite impact on tourism. We wandered around the streets, ducking into this or that small plaza. In one, we found this unusual fountain. What made it for me, was the combination of eerie light and shadow.

Alburquerque is always a feast for the eyes. We returned the next morning to drop off a bracelet of mine for repair at the Santo Domingo Trading Post. I am not a shopper, but I can get into a lot of trouble in a trading post, and this one I visit every time I am in Alburquerque. I love old Indian jewelry. I have pieces that my great grandmother got on her trips to the southwest back in the teens and twenties.

Afterwards, we photographed around the old square. We were both attracted to the strings of peppers that adorn just about anything — eaves, doorways, etc. They are so colorful against the adobe walls.We needed to do some final scouting at Canyon de Chelly, so we headed up through Navajoland. After a quick stop at the historic Hubbell Trading Post, we took a circuitous route to the Canyon on an unpaved road to the painted desert in this area. These moonscapes are always fascinating, and Arnie and I had to tear ourselves away to get to Chinle.

We started with the South Rim and visited a number of the overlooks. As the sun was setting, thunderstorms gathered, and we saw the most incredible sky either of us has ever witnessed, and we have both seen a lot of big skies in our time. The setting sun streamed sideways and behind the walls of rain, making them glow pink and orange.

It started out with subdued colors.Then the riot of colors began. As the sun set, the clouds lit up in places, making a dynamic contrast against the inky black ones.After the sun set, most people left the overlook. Arnie and I stayed, because experience has taught us that the most magnificent skies often are seen a half or three-quarters of an hour after sunset.

And this is where the light changed, minute by minute. Arnie and I were enthralled and drop-jawed at the spectacle. It was unbelievable. As Arnie said, it was something out of the special effects in Star Wars. For me, it was mystical and magical. Even the Navajo who have lived here for centuries said they had never seen skies like this.As you can see, the skies were glorious.

Workshop Updates

There is only one spot left in our Lighthouses of the Outer Banks. Write to us first through the Barefoot Contessa Photo Adventures contact page, however, to make sure it is still available.

As always, if you are contemplating one of our workshops, be sure to make room reservations early. There are a number of locations where rooms will go quickly. Remember, you can always cancel later if necessary and not pay any penalty! If “our” inn or hotel is full, or if you prefer to stay elsewhere, we always have links to other choices.

Remember, too, that spouses and SOs are always welcome to join us. In fact, we are welcoming back two today at Canyon de Chelly. We go to some great locations that they may enjoy, even though they aren’t photographers.

Comments from you are always encouraged and welcomed. If you do not see the “Leave a Reply” box below this article, it’s probably because you are still on the Home page. In that case, click on the Comments link at the end of all the tags just above “Older Posts” at the bottom of this box or just click on the article title at the top and the “Leave a Reply” box will appear down at the bottom.

Remember, you don’t need to be a WordPress member to do so. Even if you choose not to do that, we hope you will share this blog and our website with your friends and relatives who love photography.

Monthly (ish) Newsletter

If you want to be added to our newsletter list (we send them out about once a month), write us through the Barefoot Contessa Photo Adventures contact page.

Spain, Same Place — Different View, Part 2

Last week, we traveled from Barcelona southwest to the Cava country of Penedès, then up north to to the beautiful Anso Valley in the Occidental Pyrenees. This week, we’ll continue with Same Place Different View with more of the Spain workshop images.

The Pyrenees are beautiful, rugged, and at the same time, friendly. Full of history, there are many buildings of various ages to photograph, small stone villages on mountain tops, and plenty to feed the photographic eye. We headed east to the Pyrenees Central to another lovely valley close to the French border.

One day, we drove up to one of these mountain-top villages, snaking up challenging switch backs on the steep mountain slopes. Finally arriving at the summit, or at least close to it, we found gorgeous views down two different valleys.

There was a magnificent mountain watching over one. Arnie chose to photograph it with one of the little stone huts in the foreground as the late-afternoon sun was hitting the mountain. You can see the valley and towns below.

I wanted to give the mountain a more remote feeling and walked up above the village with one of our students, looking for a different vantage point. We came across mounds of Pyrenean Broom.

The yellow of these low-growing plants contrasted quite nicely against the blue of the mountain, now in shade, as the sun had dipped behind “our” village’s mountain.

Without the little stone village or the valley below, I felt that the mountain felt more solitary. I got down quite low to really feature the Broom and threw the mountain way out of focus with a shallower depth of field.

As dusk fell, the few lights in the village came on. Arnie and I were standing loosely in the same place and aiming our camera at roughly the same compass point. He chose to photograph the village itself, with the road leading you down into it.

He had done this earlier in the day when one of those narrow European tractors was going to and fro, and a villager or two out and about. At night, however, the village had a different, deserted feel.

By photographing the village at night, Arnie gave it a sense of mystery with the narrow street often hidden by the roof lines.

Earlier, when it was still light out, we had started to walk to an ancient monastery, but what was probably only a kilometer or two away by raven, was close to eight on foot over a narrow, twisting, root-filled path in the keep woods. It didn’t make sense to walk that path in the dark, even with flashlights.

So when I saw that monastery again later, I knew that was the photograph I wanted. Silhouetted against a brooding sky, the ancient building looked as remote as it actually was. I had to use a fairly long exposure to get the detail out of the sky. All I needed was a raven “quothing,” “Nevermore!”

When we first arrived in the stone village, were all drawn to the stone church that dwarfed the houses below, but the light wasn’t right to photograph it. Eventually, the light came on in the tower, as well as a flood light on one side. Arnie photographed with some of the students, using a modestly long exposure and an appropriate white balance to give the light a warm glow.

When I was photographing a little above the village, I noticed how the flood lights on the others side provided rim lighting to the tower, and even caught a little bit of the roof line.

I got the same warm glow as Arnie, but what I could not compensate for was the offensive mercury vapor lighting of the street lamps that you can no longer see. It was an easy fix. I just went into Lightroom and put a magenta wash over the putrid-green areas, so the virtually unlit part of the church had more natural lighting.

Spain has some gorgeous national parks, as does most any country. Beilsa, where we were staying, was just a stone’s throw from one of the best ones. We drove up there and checked in with the park rangers to get a trail map and some recommendations. Our target was a long cascade. There was much to photograph along the trail, and we often were separated as one person got caught up in a photograph or someone else saw something intriguing off the trail. Since Arnie and I were working with our students, we were also in different places.

When we downloaded the images from the day, we were struck by the fact that yet again, we were attracted to the same scene, yet treated it quite differently, as you can see below.If you study both photographs, you’ll see where Arnie’s vertical fits into my horizontal. This is a case where we reversed roles. Usually, I go for the more intimate scene, while Arnie, with his early background in photojournalism, takes the broad view.

From Beilsa, we headed to the coast to take in some of the charming fishing villages as well as Dali country. We were all taken by one particular village and returned to it another day. Arnie and I love the different qualities of light, and while I was off photographing something else, Arnie did a lovely scene of the cove with the beautiful evening sky. Later, I photographed the same cove from a different vantage point at night. Both of us used the reflections in the cove to give life to the dark areas.Same place, very different view!

Our B&B in this area was just a kilometer down the road from one of the Salvador Dali houses. Between the two small villages were fields of sunflowers. I don’t know what it is about sunflowers, but it is hard to resist photographing them. They are so cheerful. Our students, of course, wanted to photograph these flowers, and since it had been a dry summer, it was hard to find a good field. The one close to our B&B was the best one. These are two that Arnie and I did. Again, same place, different look to the setting.We mentioned Dali above. Salvador Dali is probably the most revered artist of Catalonia. A native son, he put his inimitable stamp on the landscape with his fantastical buildings. Way ahead of his time, his buildings are often whimsical, and it astounds me how fertile his imagination was to so completely escape the normal artistic boundaries and aesthetics of his day.

We headed north to Figueres to visit the Dalí Theatre-Museum. It was fascinating, and we wandered from room to room, photographing (as long as we didn’t use flash or tripod), being amused by Dali’s sense of humor, and taking in all the wonderful architecture of this amazing and eccentric artist.

I can’t speak for Arnie, but I had always wanted to visit “the building with the eggs on top.” At the time that I first saw a photograph of it, probably as a teen, I had no idea it was part of a museum. There certainly is no missing it!

Arnie saw what I found and didn’t want to repeat that. Instead, he did a whimsical treatment of his own, throwing the building out of focus. That said, who would miss what building it was if they had ever seen it?We returned to Barcelona where we had begun, the scene of the crime where Arnie’s camera and lens were stolen. Thankfully, tat was all behind us, and Arnie had a lot of photographs, thanks to the efforts of NPS (Nikon Professional Services) both on the American and Spanish side of “the pond.”

One cannot think of Barcelona without thinking of Gaudi Like Dali, he was away ahead of his time. We visited one of the Gaudi houses, la Pedrera. Incredible from the outside, we all found it mostly disappointing on the inside that was pretty humdrum, except for the attic and its support beams. Everyone touts the roof, but again, we were disappointed. Too many people, too many metal fences that were obviously added later for safety. Added to that, the roof was only open during daytime, and the light was just to hot for our tastes.

Arnie and I worked with out students and tried to get a shot ourselves. Finally, after much waiting, Arnie found this one a woman mimicking the lines of one of the towers.I had been eying the four “people,” but every time I tried to compose a shot, someone stepped in. Finally, I took a different approach. This was a case where the bright light against the very-blue sky actually worked.Even the little wisps of clouds cooperated!

On our last day, we headed for the waterfront. It has been renovated, so what was a dangerous area for tourists is now a tourists’ mecca. The crowds actually added to the ambiance and vitality of the area. Arnie was working with shadows and found this image.I had been looking at the various reflections in glass, hoping I could make some composition out of one of them. Finally, the light got low enough so that I found my shot in a restaurant.We were pleased at all the shots our student made, and we were particularly pleased to have been able to make a few of our own.

Workshop Updates

For those who want fall color, while New England Fall Foliage is sold out, we still have space in Fall Aspens & Ghost Towns of Colorado. If you look at the banner photograph at the top of this blog, you’ll see one of our locations.

Meanwhile, tomorrow, we take off from New Hampshire to the west for our three September workshops. We’ll stop and visit family on the way, then immerse ourselves in final scouting and preparations for the different locations. For anyone interested in Lighthouses of the Outer Banks, it is nearly full, so if you are contemplating joining us, you might not want to procrastinate.

As always, if you are contemplating one of our workshops, be sure to make room reservations early. There are a number of locations where rooms will go quickly. Remember, you can always cancel later if necessary and not pay any penalty! If “our” inn or hotel is full, or if you prefer to stay elsewhere, we always have links to other choices.

Remember, too, that spouses and SOs are always welcome to join us. We go to some great locations that they may enjoy, even though they aren’t photographers.

Comments from you are always encouraged and welcomed. If you do not see the “Leave a Reply” box below this article, it’s probably because you are still on the Home page. In that case, click on the Comments link at the end of all the tags just above “Older Posts” at the bottom of this box or just click on the article title at the top and the “Leave a Reply” box will appear down at the bottom.

Remember, you don’t need to be a WordPress member to do so. Even if you choose not to do that, we hope you will share this blog and our website with your friends and relatives who love photography.

Monthly (ish) Newsletter

If you want to be added to our newsletter list (we send them out about once a month), write us through the Barefoot Contessa Photo Adventures contact page.

Spain, Same Place — Different View, Part 1

Those of you who have been following our blog know about my mother. Anyone who has lost a parent knows what a hellish summer it’s been, thus the long delay between posts. Thanks to all of you who wrote expressing condolences. We really appreciated those notes. But now, I’m back, so things should get back to normal, blog-wise.

An update to Arnie’s stolen camera and lens … When we returned Stateside, there were no replacement lenses to be found. Nikon Professional Services (NPS) really went to bat for us. They not only instantly produced a loaner camera body and lens for Arnie, but since they knew our saga, they let Arnie keep extending the loaner for over a month. While Nikon Replacement Services had no problem getting Arnie a new body, it was the lens that was difficult. There were none to be found. Arnie called everyone he could think of and more, but nada – nothing!

NPS was fabulous, a pro’s dream team. Both Debbie McQuade and her boss, Melissa DiBartolo, top people at NPS, went all out and finally found a lens somewhere (we didn’t ask where). That lens is still out of stock everywhere, so we are ever grateful to them. Kudos to NPS. Arnie is a happy camper!

This week, we’ll return to Spain. It was great to receive so many comments on Beware of Thieves while Traveling. We were really lucky. Passports (in hotel safe), money (minimal while traveling), and credit cards were all safe, and everyone was so kind and helpful, save, of course, the thieves!

Now that Arnie had a loaner camera and lens for the rest of our trip, we took off for the wine country of Penedès, southwest of Barcelona. We stayed in a lovely B&B, Arianel-la de Can Coral. Rainer and Arianel, charming owners, guided us to some great locations over and above the ones we knew.

We tasted plenty of wonderful wines we would have loved to find back home, but alas, those wineries do not export over here. Bummer! Everyone gave us a special tour. I’m sure it didn’t hurt that over the years, we have done a number of assignments for wine publications.

We were met by the charming owner of Albet i Noya who gave us a wonderful history of his grandfather’s early commitment to organic farming.

We stayed there so long, that we missed our other appointment, so called to express our regrets that we could not make it by the end of the day. We didn’t want to miss the promised trip up into the vineyards up on the hillsides.

The owner passed us on to his manager who gave us the winery tour. We then all hopped into his 4WD, and we took off for the hills with great views of Monserrat and the surrounding vineyards.

The next day, we visited Jean Leon in an ultra-modern, stunning building that tucked into the hillside. Our hostess made time for us before a group from Russian came and said we could stay after the group arrived. In contrast to the reception building, the cave, was more traditional in feel, with rows of barrels and that musty smell that means the cellar has been kept at optimum temperatures and humidity for the wines.

It was interesting that while Arnie and I both photographed in these wineries, we gravitated toward different subjects and different areas. Until, that is, we called Montse, the stunningly chic owner of Rexach Baque, whose caves literally run under the little village. Montse greeted us when we arrived, and I asked if we could have a picnic at the table in her mother’s garden. Not only did she say, “Si,” but she brought us a bottle of the finest cava we have ever had. For those who don’t know, cava is a sparkling wine made by the same method as champagne, but because it isn’t in France, it has to go by another name.

She was all set to give us the grand tour, but I explained that while we would love to see her extensive caves (over 1,000,000 bottles of wine), we were caved out. Montse understood, and we all laughed when two hours after lunch, we were still down in the cave photographing and talking about the passion of photography and wine making. It was well past closing time, but she was relaxed and I don’t think any of us wanted the conversation to end.

As I’ve written before, it is always interesting at the different things or different views Arnie and I find in the same place. It’s a reminder to all of us that there are many ways to look at a subject. Keep that in mind as you explore your subjects.

Arnie and I were drawn to the long lines of cava stacked many rows high. While we both chose a narrow depth of field and shot toward the light, our photographs have a very different feel.

Arnie chose to accent the height of the rows, with subtle detail below, while I was drawn to the way the backlight picked up the moisture on the bottles.

Same place, different view…

When we finally left the cellars, Montse said we could photograph in her mother’s garden. Then, she took us down into her private museum. What a wonderful end to a fabulous day!

There was a little hamlet that I wanted us to see high up on a mountain side. We drove up through switch backs, ears popping at the ever-increasing altitude. We found lots to keep us busy, but what was amazing, was the sky we saw. Huge, dramatic clouds rolled in, a warning of a nasty thunderstorm. They were magnificent. I chose to photograph them alone, while Arnie sent them off against a cross while I was gathering the group to get down the mountain before the storm hit.

From the wine country, we headed up into the Occidental (western) Pyrenees to a valley that is considered to be one of the most beautiful in Spain. Tucked up by Basque country just a few kilometers south of the French border, it was, indeed, stunning. We wandered the little stone village of Anso, with its curious chimneys. Arnie came upon this gardener in the late afternoon. Later, I happened along the same street, but the gentleman was not there. I photographed the garden as a bit of a still-life, and it had a totally different feel.

One cannot be so near to France and the Basque country without heading there. As we headed up the steep road with switchback after switchback, we found ourselves in thick clouds. In fact, I was wondering if we’d still be able to see before the next drop off! As many of you know, guard rails are not a major feature overseas!

Right at the French border that didn’t even have a sign saying Bienvenue, we saw a huge flock of sheep. Everyone hopped out and found themselves surrounded by thick fleece until the sheep dog from the stone croft up above raced down the steep slope and quickly herded the flock to the home side of the road.

Arnie scouted around and found a great angle formed by the rocks and sheep leading up to the croft.

I had something else in mind. Having raised sheep in an earlier life, I suspected there were a lot more than we could see. On the other side of the hill, after all, I heard bells. Soon, faces would appear over the rise. Sure enough, two faces popped up, the right one with a humorous look. Eventually, another huge part of the flock appeared, but I got my shot with just the two faces.

In both cases, we knew what we wanted, and put ourselves in the right position to get the photographs we wanted.

Heading down the French side of the steep mountain was hairy in the clouds, but soon, we got below them and headed for a little village our host had urged us to visit. After a picnic lunch with a beautiful view of the valley we came around a corner.

A charming house with pretty gardens, a lush lawn, and a rushing stream greeted us. “Stop,” I called out, and Arnie quickly pulled over into a side road.

As I was chatting with one of our students and a couple who were also exploring, Arnie wandered upstream for a different view. He found this shot looking down the stream through the trees at the house.

I had made a beeline for the view that had initially caught my eye. With a slow shutter speed, I gave the stream a feathery feel that added to the peacefulness of the scene. Like Arnie, I composed my photograph so that the stream entered the photograph diagonally, leading one’s eye into the scene.

Same principle, same place, but very different looks. Those of you who have joined us in our workshops know how much difference a different vantage point can give. In some cases, even a few inches can often make the difference between a ho-hum photo and a dramatic one.

On the way out, it was gloriously sunny, and as we came around a bend, we were treated to this view.

Next week, we’ll finish with Part 2 of Spain, Same Place – Different View. Next year, we are headed to a different part of the country (Andalucia) for our Spain workshop to mix things up a bit. It is an area that is also very dramatic and photogenic and we have scheduled it before France so it will not be too hot in the south!

Workshop Updates

For those who want fall color, while New England Fall Foliage is sold out, we still have space in Fall Aspens & Ghost Towns of Colorado. If you look at the banner photograph at the top of this blog, you’ll see one of our locations.

I just updated the website again today to reflect the new European dates. A number of people have done or said they are interested in doing back-to-back workshops, so we’ve rescheduled to allow enough time between them, but not so much that people are hanging around for days. In addition, those who wish to do two or three of our European workshops get a special discount. More on this to follow when we post Sicily.

Yes, we are going to Sicily in June after French Wine Country. We hope to have that page up next week.

As always, if you are contemplating one of our workshops, be sure to make room reservations early. There are a number of locations where rooms will go quickly. Remember, you can always cancel later if necessary and not pay any penalty! If “our” inn or hotel is full, or if you prefer to stay elsewhere, we always have links to other choices.

Remember, too, that spouses and SOs are always welcome to join us. We go to some great locations that they may enjoy, even though they aren’t photographers.

Comments from you are always encouraged and welcomed. If you do not see the “Leave a Reply” box below this article, it’s probably because you are still on the Home page. In that case, click on the Comments link at the end of all the tags just above “Older Posts” at the bottom of this box or just click on the article title at the top and the “Leave a Reply” box will appear down at the bottom.

Remember, you don’t need to be a WordPress member to do so. Even if you choose not to do that, we hope you will share this blog and our website with your friends and relatives who love photography.

Monthly (ish) Newsletter

If you want to be added to our newsletter list (we send them out about once a month), write us through the Barefoot Contessa Photo Adventures contact page.