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
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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.
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.
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.
As you can see, the skies were glorious.
There is only one spot left in our Lighthouses of the Outer Banks. Write to us first through the Barefoot Contessa Photo Adventures 
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. 
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. 
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. 
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.
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. 
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.
Same place, very different view!
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.
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.”
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!
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.
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.
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 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.
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.
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.
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. 
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!
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.
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. 
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. 
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.
Needless-to-say, we were stressed and exhausted before we got on the plane for the red-eye to Barcelona. It’s a wonder we didn’t forget anything.
For Arnie, this was a return to Barcelona. For me, while it was a return to Spain, this was my first visit to Barcelona. We knew Barcelona is a hot bed for theft. I put my camera equipment in my trusty old L. L. Bean backpack that has served me so well for decades. Arnie had his in a waist pack. I carried my backpack around front so I could clutch it. Arnie kept his hands on his equipment.
We sampled strange-looking fruits, one of which reminded both Arnie and me of a pig. There were smoothies, nuts, confections, meats, and anything else you might like.
Above us, on one side of the Plaça, a man tended the lush plants cascading over the wrought iron on his balcony. Late afternoon segued into evening, and as a long line gathered at the restaurant, we decided to stay put and eat dinner there, our table now covered in a nice white tablecloth.
On the way, we were struck by the fountains at Plaça de Cataluna at the north end of La Rambla. Arnie and I both pulled out our long lenses, and as I photographed, I jammed my purse and backpack between me and the fence girding the fountain area. People came close to us, but we were vigilant.
We had a good laugh with Joaquim who was the one helping us. He was one of the upper people in the local station. A nice fellow with a whimsical face and a great sense of humor, he was efficient, thorough, and most apologetic for what had happened to us. He spoke excellent English, as he had lived on the west coast in California with his wife for a few years. I would not have trusted my Spanish for the details needed for a police report, so we were very lucky.
Joaquim filled out the lengthy report, asking us to repeat details to make sure he got it all right. Meanwhile, he talked about how frustrating it was for him not to be able to catch these people. He used to be a plain-clothes detective in the banks and stores, and he could put people away for five, eight, twelves years. Thefts with a weapon, or thefts done when someone is threatened or hurt carry a Federal penalty of mandatory prison time.
Alas for us, crime does pay. In Spain, if thieves are caught, they simply pay a fine. In this case, they absconded with several thousand dollars worth of camera and lens. A $500 or $1,000 fine is peanuts. As Joaquim said, they probably would sell it on eBay. Occasionally, the police have been able to catch thieves that way, but more often than not, the bands go free.
I went over the Spanish-written report with Joaquim, and I was surprised that even with my rusty Spanish, I could understand everything in the report and point out a minor correction or two that needed to be made before he printed up the final version. He and Arnie signed all the pages, and he gave us a copy for the insurance company.
We headed back to the hotel with our friends, an adventure under our belts. I called Carlos to tell him we were ready to head over to the Nikon offices (you’ll see that it’s near IKEA down by the red building). He was ready for us, and we chatted about cameras, the megapixel war, new developments, and photography in general. We looked over the Spanish literature and checked out the latest models in the showcases.
The Nikon loaner paperwork was filled out, and both Arnie and Carlos signed it. Carlos also apologized for what had befallen Arnie. People had been so kind to us. The young folks near us on the bench the night before, the owners of hte gelato place, the waiter at the outdoor café by our bench, the plain-clothed police, Joaquim, and Carlos all helped erase the bad taste we had because of the theft.
