WhereaboutsPhoto

Relaxing on a cold Sunday afternoon at the Penn Quarters neighborhood in Washington, DC. Leica M9, 28mm Summicron-M ASPH ISO160 1/250.

What to do on a cold, Sunday afternoon after we have had the first snow in the Washington, DC area?  For me the answer was to head on out with my Leica M9 to see what was happening in the city, even if my premonition that most people would be indoors on a day like this proved to be true.  Nevertheless, for a street photographer there’s always something interesting going on out there, and this also proved to be true, specially around the Penn Quarters neighborhood in DC.  I have written before that Pen Quarters is an incredible mixed neighborhood anchored around the dwindling Chinatown district.  Yes, there are all sorts of shady characters walking its streets and the place is not always the cleanest part of town, but what it lacks in high-brow gentility it more than makes up in character.  From the noodle-makers at Chinatown to the corner ticket scalping operations around the Verizon Center, there is always something going on in this place.  And for yours truly, this is good enough on a wintry Sunday afternoon.

The Martin Luther King Memorial at the Mall attracted large crowds all weekend.

One of the places I really wanted to visit this weekend was the Martin Luther King Memorial.  Of course, I knew it would be crowded, but I thought that if I went late in the day, the crowds would have dissipated by then.  Well, I was wrong.  Like me, thousands of people were making their way through the construction barriers that seemed to block everyone’s way around the Reflective Pool in front of the Lincoln Memorial.  However, the chilling temperatures helped to quicken the pace a bit and soon I found yourself moving along with the crowds jaywalking across Independence Avenue.  Once there, what struck me was how overblown the controversy surrounding the artist and where the monument was carved seemed in light of the significance of the monument.  In keeping with the other monuments at the Mall, the Martin Luther King Memorial was very tastefully done, reflecting a quiet serenity that was only challenged by the strength of the words carved along the surrounding granite walls.  And along these walls, people young and old continuously touched and read the words that once were so eloquently expressed by the Reverend King himself.  These words resonate as true today as they did the first time they were heard.

Aspiring artists working on their paintings are a common site along the Grand Canal.

The Grand Canal terrace of the Peggy Guggenheim Gallery evokes the romance of days past.

Gondolas, while highly commercialized these days, still remain the symbol of Venice and one of the linchpins to its romantic past.

While Venice is unquestionably one of the most colorful cities in Europe, its historical legacy can sometimes be better appreciated when seen in black and white.  Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that the city itself is so old, or maybe with the very nature of black and white photography that makes everything look as it came out of grandma’s attic.  Whatever it is, the color shift ages the city even more, and this is something that has its own artistic appeal.  After all, the colors in the city of Venice are really quite subdued; sort of like the colors you find in the unkept parts of most western cities.  The effect is even more pronounced when the weather turns and the days get dark and cloudy.  From a photographic point of view, such rotten days scream out for some black and white photography.  Thanks to Leica and Nikon, capturing the mood of the city during those days is sheer enjoyment, as the city inevitably reminds you more than ever of the old comparison with an aging French actress: a bit past her prime, but with a level of elegance and class unmatched anywhere in the world.

The colorful island of Burano in the Venetian lagoon with its bright colored houses and incredible laid-back atmosphere.

Burano may be small, but what it lacks in size it more than makes up with its incredibly colorful canal.

Burano's long fishing tradition is alive and well today, with fisherman pulling into the canal to sell their catch on a daily basis.

Like in Venice next door, some of the wonders of Burano are to be found down alleyways and off the main thoroughfares.

The tiny island of Burano in the Venetian lagoon is simply one of those must-see places in the world.  It probably won’t make the famous “places before you die” publications out there, but once you set foot on this idyllic place, you’ll understand what I’m talking about.  Don’t get me wrong, its narrow, winding walkways are well worn out by now, but even if you are not the first visitor to the island, the relatively-long boat vaporetto ride from Venice is more than worth it.  As a photographer, you just don’t know where to start.  The colors are magnificent, with incredible reflections on the canal that give the appearance that the houses are extending into the water.

I do have to admit that while the colorful houses and the island’s reputation for great, hand-crafted lace are the big draws to the island, I had another reason for crossing the lagoon.  That reason had to do with food.  You see, it just so happens that Burano is home to a very famous trattoria by the name of Trattoria Da Romano that according to travel show celebrity chef Anthony Bourdain, makes one of the best fish risottos in the world.  And how good was it?  I wouldn’t know.  It just so happens that the trattoria closes its doors for the entire month of December, which happens to be when yours truly showed up with a voracious appetite.  However, just when I thought that all was lost, a very friendly local saved the day.  It just so happens that Burano has another equally famous restaurant: the elegant seafood heaven that is Trattoria al Gatto Nero.  You definitely know that the seafood in a restaurant is super-fresh when most of what is available depends on what the fisherman were able to catch overnight.  Incredible stuff and worth every penny, not to mention the trip across the lagoon.

Dorsoduro is a study in contrasts, with some of the the most humble dwellings in Venice as well as some of the most opulent ones.

The architecture in Dorsoduro is often the perfect frame for a pretty face.

Across from the busy Ponte Accademia, Campo San Vidal is an oasis of tranquility.

The modernistic Peggy Guggenheim Collection stands in artistic contrast to the mighty Gallerie dell'Accademia.

Western Dorsoduro still shows its working-class pedigree, but in a grand way.

When you read about Dorsoduro in travel books, what jumps at you are all those references to a working-class district in Venice.  I guess in a sense it is that, but in another sense it is so much more than that.  Yes, its working-class roots are evident everywhere (more so on the western part), but as you move east down the narrow streets bordering the Academia, the wealth that has descended to this part of Venice becomes readily obvious.  Like in most of  the rest of Venice, that wealth lies behind the old front walls of mansions, hidden from the rest of us mere mortals.  Only when you enter the masters-filled halls of the Accademia gallery or the tranquil gardens where Peggy Guggenheim once entertained famous lovers and friends alike, do you fully realize how rich and wonderful hidden Dorsoduro must be.

More than in any other section of Venice, Dorsoduro plays with your imagination.  This is perhaps because from what I could see, the area presents the most vivid social class contrast in Venice.  Of course, this is not a scientific observation, but rather the views of a photographer who spent a day meandering through its streets.  Most of these streets didn’t seem to be packed with tourists (or at least were not when I was there), which kind of explains some of the reactions from locals when I suddenly appeared around a corner with a hefty zoom lens.  No doubt they would much prefer for people with cameras to stay away.  However, this being the photographic paradise that is Venice, that would simply be too much to ask.

One of the many quaint restaurant in Cannaregio just north of the Rialto Bridge and near the Santi Apostoli Church.

Easily missed while walking down Calle Rio Terra De Maddalena, the Campo Maddalena is a quiet oasis in a very busy part of town.

Getting lost in the quiet back streets of old Jewish area of Cannaregio is like taking a stroll through 16th Century Italy.

The quiet, narrow Cannaregio back streets are the perfect place to spend an afternoon getting lost on the way to nowhere.

Cannaregio is a place for families, and a significant amount of the dwindling Venetian population call the neighborhood home.

On the northern section of the Grand Canal in Venice you will find the picturesque sestieri of Cannaregio.  The walk from the Piazzale Roma to the Rialto via Cannaregio is one of the most enjoyable in the city.  This sestieri is mostly known as the former location of the Venice Jewish Ghetto and the famous Galleria Franchetti, otherwise known as the Ca’ d’Oro.  Nevertheless, it is the endless shopping and markets that seem to bring most people to the neighborhood.  This is indeed a great shopping place with wonderful little restaurants like Al Leon D’Oro with their great regional, down-home cooking.  You also get the feeling that people walk through its streets at a much slower pace than in other parts of Venice, which is perhaps attributable to the abundant number of small shops lining the great Strada Nova.

But as busy as the Strada Nova is, the moment you move down one of its narrow side-streets, an incredible sense of calm overtakes you.  Cannaregio is unquestionably a great place to get lost.  Granted that it may lack some of the great architectural wonders of San Marco, but what it lacks in grandeur, it more than makes up with incredibly picturesque little squares, bridges, and slower pace of life.  In fact, at times it felt like you were trespassing into a part of the city that you were not supposed to be at as a tourist, let alone a photographer with a big camera strapped to your neck.  But it is precisely this sense of the “private” Venice that kind of pulls you into the area, as if at any time you would expect to see Cassanova himself come out of one of those small wooden doors wearing a mask and disguising his presence with a long, black cape.  I swear that he was there somewhere.

At the center of Piazza San Marco lies the great Basilica di San Marco and the tallest building in Venice, the Campanile.

Life at San Marco extends into the Grand Canal, as everyone is drawn to this Venetian epicenter by land or sea.

At just about every turn in the San Marco area Gondoliers wait for business from the more than 34,000 tourist that visit the city on a daily basis.

Just about every neighborhood in Venice is dotted with quaint, small bars and inviting coffee shops begging you to slow down and linger for hours.

While the population of Venice has been greatly reduced over the years, families are still common in just about every neighborhood in the city.

Without a doubt, the center of Venice is the Piazza San Marco.  Everyone seems to go there first when visiting the city, and from the looks of it, at the same time.  Even during “low season” the place is packed with just about every nationality you can think of.  But while this seems to be everyone’s starting point, the San Marco region is so much more than this grand Piazza.  Of course, there is the Rialto Bridge in all its splendor surrounded by expensive, but rather quaint restaurants, but there are also the endless side-streets full of small shops, trattorie, and wine bars with delectable cicheti.  At just about every corner of this most-amazing maze there are things to discover, and rarely do they disappoint.  Sure, product imitations are everywhere and the pizza sometimes leaves a lot to be desired, but dig a little and the rewards are simply out of this world.

From a photographic point of view, Venice is a city for wide-angle lenses.  Yes, there are plenty of characters to photograph there, but the sheer masses of people constantly moving on their way to who knows what, means that there’s always some roaming tourist that will get in front of your great portrait shot.  What’s more, the locals move a mile a minute through all the narrow passages in the city, and believe me that those fast-moving locals don’t show much love for camera-wielding tourist.  The approximately 61,000 residents still there (less than half of the number of people who lived in the city fifty years ago) simply get overwhelmed by the millions of visitors that descent on their back yard every year.  However, theirs is a loosing battle.  Such magnificent city will always be a magnet for visitors that would never forgive themselves if they never got to see this enchanting city.

There is no greater symbol of Venice than the masks associated with the carnivals of this ancient city.

While the Rialto Bridge has been described as too touristy, it still puts on every day some of the greatest spectacles in Venice.

The Cannaregio section in Venice has to be one of the best kept secrets in the world with its picturesque canals and laid back atmosphere.

To say that Venice is one of those places you must absolutely see before you die would be a gross understatement.  Like Rome, words alone would not do justice to in describing it.  One look at this ancient city and you can’t help but ask yourself what took you so long to get here.  Plenty of travel books have described Venice in great and colorful detail, so I won’t even try to do the same here, but over the course of various posts I will try to capture as best I can the beauty of this great city.

Yes, most people in Venice are not residents, but rather people like me conflicted between taking photos or simply marveling all day at sights that only existed in our imagination.  No cars, no bicycles, no factories, and no shopping centers.  Only the damp, narrow alleyways and streets that once entertained the likes of  Marco Polo, Vivaldi, Tiziano, Casanova, Titian, and Tintoretto.  Their legacy is what made this colorful city great.

A Spanish gentleman at the picturesque and immensely popular Puerta del Sol square in central Madrid.

The Gran Via in Madrid is one of the world's most famous boulevard and an incredible monument to Spanish architecture.

Madrid's Gran Via is a beehive of activity and the area's trendy cafes and restaurants are balanced by some very creative street food stands.

What do you do when you are delayed for eight hours at Madrid’s Barajas International Airport?  You count your blessings, that’s what you do.  Why?  Because you happen to be in one of the greatest cities in Europe with just enough time to get a taste of this uber-sexy city.  My first question at the information booth was “how can I get downtown for a few hours?”  The answer was simpler than I thought: take Airport Express yellow bus for 2 Euros and three stops later you will be at Puentes de Cibeles smack in the middle of the city.  You just pay the conductor after boarding and off you go.

Once at the Puentes de Cibeles and staring at the Palacio de Cibeles and the Museo Naval, a quick right turn puts you in the direction of the famous Gran Via boulevard, packed with pedestrians from every place imaginable.  Palatial architecture, trendy cafes, and fast moving cars are all around you in a way that almost leads to sensory overload.  From the Gran Via take a left into the sloping, busy Calle Montera, which will bring you down to the vibrant Puerta del Sol square.  In fact, when you get there you get the feeling that there is a huge party going on.  Thousands of people engaged in all sorts of activities, from casual strolling to small demonstrations.  You’ll see mimes sitting or standing still, music blaring from street performers, a local activist making some kind of point about a transportation issue, men shouting at the corners that they are buying gold, and young people posing for photographs.  The result: a contagious energy boost that felt like you just had a Cuban espresso loaded with caffeine.  Whatever it was, it was definitely contagious.    On my way back to the airport all I could think of was that I definitely had to come back to this city.   And so I will.

Restaurant worker takes a break from a busy day.

One of the great things in walking around town with a Leica M9 camera strapped to your neck is that this inconspicuous wonder makes this kind of photography possible.  It’s beautifully quiet shutter never disturbs a scene, but rather allows the activity you just record to go on unperturbed by extraneous sounds.  You stop, linger for about about 30 seconds taking pictures, and everyone around you continues to do whatever they are doing without even noticing you.  It may sound like an exaggeration, but using the Leica M9 has to be the closest a photographer can get to merely glancing at a person.  Unlike traditional DSLR’s, the Leica M9 never attempts to “talk over the crowd.”  It merely looks, whispers softer than the street sounds about you, and blends seamlessly with the street environment.  If only my Nikon equipment which now sits at home collecting dust could even come close.  Now, there’s a thought.

The great Potomac River slowly reaches for the open ocean past Old Town Alexandria.

Couldn’t resist posting this photograph.  It was taken late in the afternoon on Thanksgiving weekend with the Leica M9 and a 28mm Leica Summicron-M f/2 ASPH.  And yes, it was all about that oblivious seagull sitting there facing one of the most beautiful sunsets of the season.  Walk along the Alexandria waterside on any given afternoon and you will be rewarded with many similar scenes.  And yes, there will also be lots of tourists, performers banging on three or four instruments at the same time, and joggers who for some reason find the need to run right through those who are trying to enjoy the scenery.  The secret: face the water, the seagulls, and the sunset, and you’ll soon loose track of the commotion behind you.

Reflecting farmhouse near the community of Aldie on Route 50.

Reflecting pond at the Chrysalis Winery near Middleburg.

Taking photos of ponds is not how my day started.  I was actually out taking photographs of what I though I would refer to as “things we normally drive by without noticing.”  To do this I packed my Leica M9 and a 50mm Leica Summicron-M f/2 lens and headed out on a beautiful day to the Virginia countryside.  I figured that if I just pull over to photograph whatever caught my eye, that I would come up with a pretty good selection of those out-of-the-way scenes that most motorist will never see when traveling from point A to point B in their hurried lives.  As I kept pulling over every few miles to climb over fences and muddy-up my shoes in the name of photographic composition, but in short notice found myself fascinated by the reflections on the many small ponds that dot the area around Middleburg.  Next thing you know, my chance encounter with one of these reflective ponds became the purpose of my photographic life for the day, and like one of the migrating geese that can’t resist the sight of water, I too found myself getting dirty just to catch a glimpse of the still reflections of trees and houses.  To say that the light was perfect on this Saturday morning would be a gross understatement, and the waters were so still that they looked as if someone had painted them there over a solid surface.  A simple gift of nature, but one that was well worth the mud on my shoes.

The pride and joy of the communist world, the Trabant, is closely guarded by impersonators eerily reminding us of the times of the Belin Wall.

Leave it to the creative folks of the National Spy Museum to reproduce scenes from the former East Germany and the times when spies roamed those dark streets with impunity.

An old too familiar presence in the communist world during the Cold War brought a certain chill to the streets of Washington, DC.

The Trabant, one of the greatest remaining symbols of the communist world and its design and engineering legacy.

I have to say that those folks from the Spy Museum in Washington, DC do know how to put on a show.  During their Fifth Annual Parade of Trabants they introduced locals and tourists alike to the little automobile icons of the communist era: the Trabant.  Of course, I have taken a few photographic liberties by applying some vintage filters to these photos, but I thought that by changing the photos to make them look like they came out of someone’s long-forgotten shoe box in an attic, that this would be more representative of the times when this little East German wonder roamed the streets of East Berlin.  Having seen many times the Berlin Wall and the creepy barbwire that incarcerated the people of East Germany, I have to confess that the presence of these Trabants and the constant wandering around of East German guard impersonators made me at times a bit uneasy.  My mind kept going back to another era and the times when I used to be awaken in the early hours of the morning in Bavaria by the steady roar of hundreds of tanks being loaded into trains for their move towards the wall separating east from west in Germany.  But this was Washington, DC in 2011 and not Germany in 1977, but for some strange reason, getting those images out of my mind was proving impossible.

But what can you say about the Trabant?  To say that this little box was the personification of simplicity would be an exaggeration.  With its 18 horse powers and pollution-generating engine, it has been classified by many as one of the worst engineering creations of all times.  And yet, transported to the Annual Parade of Trabants this weekend, it was described by onlookers as cute, interesting, and outright pretty.  That is, until it was time to get inside to “enjoy the ride.”  For starters, fitting four average Americans into these little wonders was the first challenge, and certainly not pretty.  This was followed by starting of engines and the Trabants working “just as new,” which like in the 1960′s & 70′s started with an explosion of dark smoke and an engine that soon gave up.  On this day, like a generation ago, these East German wonders had to be pushed down the street before they would start up again after letting out a metallic cry that made everyone there turn around and look.  This too transported my mind to another place and another era, but this time I have to confess that the memories were a lot funnier.

One of the many war veterans in Washington, DC makes his statement at the Navy Memorial.

Lady sits by herself next to a loved one at Arlington National Cemetery.

There is no shortage of patriotic scenes in Washington, DC.  From great parades down Constitution Avenue to the endless sea of flags displayed by the Rolling Thunders, the city is always abuzz with music, bullhorns, and the endless chants from people demanding this or that from the government.  All this activity makes for some great photography, or at the very least, for the photographing of some really interesting people.  It is with this intention that I venture into the city on a regular basis to search for all this “sound and fury” and the characters that make it possible.  However, this past weekend it was precisely the opposite of all this characteristic commotion that caught my attention.  Not sound and fury, mind you, but rather the lack of it.  To be precise, what caught my attention were those simple, quiet scenes around our great national monuments that kept reminding me of the price Americans from every walk of life have paid for their country.  People, seemingly from worlds apart, sitting quietly and alone, but with more in common than they will every know.  Their silence spoke louder than words.

The Georgetown foliage is the perfect backdrop for engagement photographs.

I’m always surprised by the variety of scenes I find in cities around America.  These are simple scenes that for some reason meant something to me as I endlessly walk about town “to see what I see.”  Generally, though, I don’t go around photographing other photographers, but coming upon this scene I couldn’t help but think about the wonders of the fall season and its effect on people.  After the scorching months of July and August in Washington, DC, the cool days of fall bring a certain energy to the city that is truly palpable.  And as soon as the trees begin to change, photographers and their subject are out finding the brightest colors and the perfect backdrops.  For a city of dark suits and serious faces, the magnificent colors of the season seem to bring a brief respite from the daily grind and the opportunity to let loose.  It won’t last forever, so best enjoy it while you can.