jacknewton.net
  • Photography
  • June26th

    1 Comment

    … but the flesh is weak.

    A familiar saying, and one which I just lived recently.

    A while back, friend and fellow photography enthusiast Steve Alexander suggested that one day we needed to go together to Yosemite National Park with our cameras. Steve and I have enjoyed several trips together over the years, including a great trip to Greece where I took several shots I consider some of my best.

    I love the U.S. National Park system — heck, I met my wife while we were both living and working at the Grand Canyon — so I always told Steve that I would love to figure out a trip someday. Of course, the real world gets in the way sometimes, things like losing my job, losing my Mom, and then having my home burn down were reasonable excuses not to expend the time, energy and expense of a trip to Yosemite.

    But 2010 is a different year, I’ve got a job I love, a new home being built, and some actual paid time off to use. So off to Yosemite it was — for Steve, me and two other buddies of his.

    At first glance, Yosemite is everything you imagine. Soaring cliffs of granite. Gigantic pine trees. Roaring, majestic waterfalls. Seriously, the place is a naturist’s dream, well worthy of its status as a national park. Not 30 minutes into our initial visit to the park we saw a large brown bear foraging in an open meadow. It was an incredible rush.

    We spent three days hiking, in the valley and up the mountains. The first inclination that I may have overstepped my personal fitness boundaries came after the first of our “training hikes”. We had decided to don full packs and do some shorter hikes to try and acclimate to the elevation and the rigors of hiking before taking on our monster trek to Half Dome and back.

    After the initial training hike, I found my shoulders sore from the pack, my feet aching from the walk, and my lungs seared from gasping for air. An ominous start, for sure. We hiked about 7 miles through the valley first, marveling at Lower Yosemite Fall. Mirror Lake, so well documented in photos, was a minor disappointment because it was more of a swamp, and not able to mirror any of its majestic surroundings. Still beautiful, though,

    The next day’s hike was much shorter in length, only about 5 miles, but about 800 feet of elevation, up to just over 8000 feet. Sentinel Dome offered a 360 degree view of Yosemite Valley, including Half Dome, El Capitan, Yosemite Fall and much more. Absolutely stunning vista, something I’ll never forget.

    But then it was time for the big hike, from the valley floor to Half Dome, and hopefully up the famous cables to the top. We decided to take the longer John Muir Trail rather than the more popular, shorter Mist Trail, mostly because of the very steep steps which highlight the Mist Trail. Taking the Muir Trail meant a 9 mile hike, pretty much consistently involving elevation, and then of course the 9 miles back down later. Having hiked the Grand Canyon several times, I knew that the journey down was harder on the knees and feet than the way up, and I kept that in mind as we began our ascent.

    Boots on the trail at 7 a.m., we started our journey. The trailhead sits somewhere around 4,500 feet above sea level, so it didn’t take long for us to start to need to pause at the end of switchbacks to get our breath. From the moment we started, we were hiking up, each step bringing with it thinner air. We walked steadily, however, leap-frogging other groups continuously as we all struggled to make it up.

    At about mile 7, I stepped awkwardly on some rocky steps, and felt a sharp pain in the front of my right knee. I was able to avoid further pain by being more careful about my steps and relying on my left leg for the unavoidable big step increases the remainder of the way up. We arrived at the base of Little Dome dead tired, sore and exhilarated.

    One look at Little Dome, however, made me realize that while I may be able to make it up there to the cables on Half Dome, i was worried about the 9 mile journey back down if I pushed my right knee further. Little Dome isn’t a particularly long distance but it’s fairly straight up, a series of stairs on an extreme grade. I thought it over, and discussed with my climbing partners, and decided to forgo the final ascent. In actuality, I’m not sure any of us could have made it up if I had not decided to stay at the base of Little Dome. Steve A and Steve S were able to shed their packs and leave them with me, and Steve S had actually forgotten one component of his harness and was able to use mine. They lightened their loads and headed up the stairs of Little Dome while I made a comfortable nesting spot and rested my legs.

    They returned about three hours later, full of excitement about finally being on top of one of the iconic images in our country. They got their photo taken standing on “the visor” which in effect makes it appear that you’re standing practically out in thin air. Honestly, I had already felt bad about not making the final push to the cables, and seeing their excitement only heightened my disappointment. I laughed to myself about my particular mentality that allowed me to feel bad about myself even though I had just completed 9 miles of intense elevated climbing which would put many people to the test.

    We began our hike down almost immediately, wanting to make sure we were back in the valley before dark. The journey down was eventful for one reason, and not a good one. At one part of the hike right after Nevada Fall, the trail is wet and a steady stream of melting snow pelts you as you walk. Steve A slipped on the wet rocky path, and immediately knew he had broken his left wrist. He rigged a makeshift sling from a bandanna, and continued down the mountain, gutting out the pain.

    When we had all regrouped at the valley floor, we took Steve A to the park hospital, where they x-rayed and confirmed the break, and put it into a cast. We were all exhausted and sore and hungry.

    As I sit here less than a week from the hike, I still feel bad about not getting up to the top of Half Dome. I think about the preparation required for me to think about doing it in the future, and doubt my resolve to adequately prepare. It would take not only getting into better overall shape, but also working specifically on climbing stairs and potentially having my knees looked at to see if there was some mitigating treatments I could find to better suit them for such an ordeal. I know it just won’t happen, and that my one shot at being on top of Half Dome most likely just came and went.

    Still, Yosemite was breathtakingly beautiful, my love for our National Parks is further cemented, and I’m determined to find a way to visit more.

    Half Dome, pictured on the left at sunset, got the better of me, but I’m sure I’m not the only person for whom that’s the case. I’ll have to take solace in the fact that even at 50 years old I could hike 20 miles of extremely difficult trails with very high elevation, and I got to experience one of the more beautiful places I’ve ever seen.

    That’s plenty for now.

  • January30th

    No Comments

    If you follow this blog, or my wife’s (Operation ReNewton), you already know that on Christmas morning of 2009 our family home burned and we were lucky to get out unharmed. While we try to keep remembering that getting out is the most important thing, as the days pass and we deal with the loss of literally all our material possessions, I have to admit sometimes it’s hard.

    Whether it’s the loss of silly sports memorabilia or a favorite sweatshirt, or a beloved piece of furniture with little monetary value but incalculable sentimental value such as my grandfather’s roll top desk, sometimes it’s hard not to feel sad despite the obvious blessing of getting out alive.

    These days, for me, the loss of all my photos and camera equipment seems to dominate my darker moments. Playing the odds that a computer hard drive failure is much more likely than a devastating house fire, I had backed up all my photos to two different external hard drives. But alas, they resided in the very same house with the inferno, and last week I was informed by the data recovery experts that they could not retrieve my files. Approximately 40,000 high resolution digital images gone.

    Our trip to Greece, the apex of a life spent traveling – gone.

    All my experimental efforts with lighting and other techniques I’ve explored over the years – gone.

    Concert photos, including some recent ones from U2 of which I was very proud given the difficult lighting and lack of press access with which to take them – gone. This list could go on forever, because I’m one of those annoying guys who carried a camera with me pretty much anywhere I went.

    One of my regular assignments was to take photos of the kids and families at the Miracle League at Town & Country, a charitable organization for whom I’m proud to devote my time. I loved taking those photos, trying to find those moments when the kids would be expressing the joy of being out on that field with their buddies. I have had countless conversations with the families of the players, who would tell me that they loved this photo or that photo of their child. I have to admit those moments made me feel proud, and cemented my commitment to helping those kids have whatever moments of happiness I could help bring. But all those photos are now gone forever.

    In addition to the photos lost, all my equipment was destroyed as well. A few days ago as Veek and I sifted through the rubble – as we do each weekend looking for something, anything, which could be resurrected – I spent 30 minutes with a rake combing through the ashes of our old office. I knew where my equipment had been stored, and where my camera bag was lying when the fire struck. It didn’t take long to start finding the remnants of the pieces.

    First, in the area where an oak cabinet housed all my equipment, I began to find specialty cameras I used for occasional experimentation. My Argoflex box camera, built in the 1950′s, for which I built a contraption which allowed me to take a photo of its viewfinder with my 50mm lens, a style called “Through The Viewfinder” photography. My Lomo Fisheye II, an inexpensive film camera with an extremely wide angle lens to give a unique perspective to a routine scene. My strobe lighting equipment, solid backgrounds, plexiglass shelves to try out lighting techniques. All gone.

    I know that I need to remain vigilant about remembering what we COULD have lost in that fire. We didn’t spend any time in a hospital, or god forbid, a morgue. “Stuff” is just “stuff”. I know that. But losing my cameras, losing all those source, high-resolution images, has pained me a great deal. I know that as we work through the multitude of issues related to rebuilding our home and our lives, obtaining new camera equipment is not going to be high on the list of items on which to spend money. It may be a year before I can even imagine saving the money to buy a similar high-end camera and lenses as I once had. And that saddens me.

    But as with most everything since the fire, the amazing spirit of those around me has forced me to lift the clouds of my discontent. At least three friends with whom I share the passion of photography have offered the loan of equipment until I get my own again. A dear friend JB even sent me an original Russian Lomo which he said had been “sitting on a shelf in his house for years”, because he saw the photo of my burned up equipment and wanted to do something to help. These generous acts combine with all the other, countless acts of support and kindness which Veek and I have received, to keep my mind clear and focused on what’s really important.

    So it may be awhile before you begin seeing lots of new entries to my galleries. But you can bet your ass that I’ll be using Veek’s little point and shoot which survived the fire at every opportunity, if only to make sure I’m taking photos of the luckiest family in Austin.

  • September23rd

    No Comments

    Today’s Lens, the excellent New York Times photoblog, discusses the incredibly sensitive topic of photographing and publishing pictures of the victims of war, combatants and non-combatants alike. This controversy has been around ever since the Civil War, and impassioned opinions exist on both sides. Recently, a photo of a Marine mortally wounded in Afghanistan has fueled the debate anew. [For the sake of good taste and my own personal opinions of this most recent example, I will not republish nor point to the photo. The curious may search on the name of the photographer, Julie Jacobson, to find the photo in question.]

    There is hardly anyone in their adult years who has not seen some of the most iconic war images taken – the horrific scene of Vietnamese villagers, including one screaming young girl, running from a napalm attack; the execution by handgun of a suspected Viet Cong spy; and most remarkably the dramatic images taken by perhaps the highest practitioner of the art of wartime photography, Robert Capa.

    Photo by Robert Capa

    Photo by Robert Capa

    Capa is credited with creating two of the most remarkable photos of war ever taken.

    The first, depicting a soldier in the Spanish Civil War, shot and falling to his death. The second, an image of American GI’s wading through the surf on D Day, did as much as anything to show the sheer terror of being in the first waves of soldiers that fateful morning.

    As a boy, exposure to these images helped me form opinions about war, it’s costs and it’s sacrifices, but it did not turn me into a pacifist, nor did I consider myself unpatriotic for viewing them. I saw those images as necessary elements of trying to understand war. Later, as a student of history, reading about the bloodshed at Shiloh and Antietam, the horrors of Bastogne and Market Garden, and many other battles too numerous to mention, it was photos which put a real face on the descriptions in the texts.

    Photo by Robert Capa

    Photo by Robert Capa

    My parents bought me a subscription to the excellent Time Life series for World War II, chock full of large format black and white photos of every aspect of the war – boredom and panic, land and sea, home and overseas. I think those images helped cement my love and interest for studying history, and I can’t ever remember thinking that viewing them was something I should not be doing.

    I had a conversation with my brother a few months back about the controversy surrounding the publishing photos of the coffins of soldiers being unloaded at Andrews Air Force base. I tried hard to understand his point of view that the photos were nothing more than a cynical media ploy to undermine the war effort and embolden our enemies. My take on the photos was that it was important for all Americans, not just the families of servicemen and women, to witness the cost of war, and to understand the incredible sacrifice being made. We agreed to disagree, and with two sons having served in combat, he and his family deserve the utmost respect from a beneficiary of their service such as the likes of me.

    Soldiers Return From Afghanistan

    Soldiers Return From Afghanistan

    Similarly, my friend Steve, a former Marine, has spoken to me several times about his disgust with the publication of recent photos depicting the horrors of war. I think his take is less about the politicization of the photos, but rather the intrusion on the families of the soldiers, and I find it hard to disagree with that point of view.

    In this latest instance, for example, the father of the fallen Marine pleaded with the Associated Press to not publish the photo. As someone sensitive to the rights of the people whom I capture in my lens, I could not in good conscience publish a photo like the Jacobson image when I knew the parents objected strongly.

    There’s no clear answer to this controversy, but I do know that publishing photos of war is not going to stop anytime soon. I don’t feel that doing so necessarily emboldens the enemy – personally, if we as a people believe a war is worth fighting, it’s important for everyone to know the sacrifices involved and do whatever they can to help.

    I try to think about what life must have been like during World War II, with average American families affected by the war effort in a multitude of ways. Rationing of gas, rubber, and a host of other common items, for example. When reading about our troops needing equipment, I can’t help but feel as if the vast majority of Americans would rather squawk about their taxes than get involved in solving the issues by raising funds and increasing output at the factories making armor, or munitions, or whatever.

    Publishing a photo of coffins or soldiers dying or civilians caught in the chaos doesn’t win or lose a war, but rather it helps everyone understand the nuance and complex nature of conflict. We shouldn’t go to war casually, without shared sacrifice. Seeing the faces of young men and women who have served our country in the greatest possible way should strengthen us in our resolve.

    But, above all else, I am a believer in the right to privacy, and if the family of a serviceman or woman does not want their loved ones’ image used for any reason, I fully respect that, and would hope that we as a society would, too.

  • September17th

    No Comments

    If you haven’t discovered “The Big Picture” over at Boston.com, you’re really missing out on some great photographic journalism. For some time now, they’ve been creating exceptional photo essays and getting rave responses.

    I’ve been amazed at some of the images from news events well-known and not, but particularly some compelling examples such as “Remembering September 11th“, “One Year After Hurricane Ike“, and countless others. They have an extensive archive of past essays, easily found near the top right of the page, and which allows you to search by their widely diverse categories such as “disaster”, “astronomy”, “environment”, “daily life”, “sports”, “politics”, “war”, and much more.

    kissesThe latest, “A Collection of Kisses”, has a pretty interesting mix of poignancy, humor, sadness and sweetness. It’s not often you’ll place photos of sports stars kissing their trophies next to images of parents kissing the bodies of their dead children.

    As usual, though, the high quality imagery from Boston.com holds your interest throughout. I added one of my “kissing” photos here to join in the fun, but really, the way in which the editors at The Big Picture compose their essays is a marvel. I am hard pressed to think of one time I viewed their work and said “Meh, that’s ok, but not great.” Most often, I am blown away, and end up forwarding a link to the essay to friends.

    I heartily recommend adding “The Big Picture” to your subscription list, I can’t imagine you’ll feel it wasn’t worth the effort. Selfishly I’d like to see people supporting excellence in photographic journalism, and the Boston.com photoblog team is doing an admirable job keeping up the tradition established by the old Life Magazine, National Geographic and others.

    And hey, they accept submissions from just about anybody, so if you think you’ve got the chops, check out their “About” page to find out how to get your photos in these amazing essays. If one of your photos is selected, please let me know so I can shout it to the hilltops!

  • September14th

    4 Comments

    Friends who compliment me on a photo I’ve taken will often hear the response, “Well, thanks, but photography is a lot like golf. Unless you’re Tiger Woods, there is always someone better.”

    Although I’ve learned a lot about photography over the years – how to harness the powerful capabilities of modern consumer cameras, how to compose an interesting shot, post processing in Photoshop, etc. – I see examples of superior technique and composition each and every day.

    Jim Reed/Barcroft Media

    Jim Reed/Barcroft Media

    Today I found a link to a gallery by Jim Reed, a storm chaser. A quick look at the gallery soon revealed that I have yet to a photo as exciting as Jim’s shown here. Amazing colors, a true sense of the photographer being in the scene (with the associated danger of being so close to such extreme weather).

    I would love to be witness to an event worthy enough to photograph and be of interest to a wide audience. For this reason, I tend to carry a camera with me most of the time, just in case that day brings me witness to something of importance. It hasn’t happened yet, maybe it never will. I certainly won’t be spending time and money chasing storms like Jim Reed does, but I’m glad he’s doing it.

    Photo by Steve Alexander

    Steve Alexander

    Time and place make so much difference, in so many ways. My friend Steve has taken a couple of photos which blow me away. His photo of a mandrill at the Houston zoo, baring its teeth, is worthy of National Geographic, and I believe he was asked by the zoo to have it included in their newsletter.

    It’s the reason I like to talk about photography with other enthusiasts. Just discussing each other’s efforts, organizing photo shoots to try out techniques, learning from each other – these all combine to help me feel as if I’m progressing as a photographer.

    I’d like to think that someday I’ll be in exactly the right place and time to capture an image as powerful as some of the ones I see from other photographers which I admire. No matter what, time spent learning is never wasted, and I expect improved results from the types of shots I current take – mostly portraits, nature, events.

    I’m also planning on using Zack Arias’ excellent DIY tutorial on seamless white backgrounds to take a series of photos very soon, further honing my skills with effective and creative lighting. I’ve already seen an improvement in my professional video work from working on my lighting techniques for my hobby. Steve and I have discussed a trip in the future solely for the purpose of shooting and testing our abilities.

    The lesson? Photography, as with so many other things, can be a life long learning opportunity, if that’s your interest.

  • September10th

    3 Comments

    Although I spend a fair bit of time trying to hone my skills with a camera, the reason I got into photography in the first place was to have fun. I started off by taking pictures of my family and friends, and beginning with my first SLR back in the 1980′s, I experimented with “trick” photography, such as:

    • In a completely dark room, leaving the shutter open and walking around the room flashing things with color gels to get multiple images exposed in one image
    • Using Cokin filters to alter the scene which I saw through the viewfinder
    • Using perspective to create images which otherwise did not exist

    I saw a set of funny perspective shots today and thought I’d share the link (The site, Environmental Graffiti, has some excellent, more serious photography, too, by the way).

    They immediately made me think about a trip to visit my friend Tom out in South Dakota almost 25 years ago. We went to see Mount Rushmore, and I had him lie on his back and shoot a photo of me with my head placed next in line to the four Presidents. (I’m searching for my old photo albums to see if I can find the shot and will scan it and post it here later if I can do so.) I was cracking myself up as he lay there, looking at me as if I were nuts.

    So take a moment for some whimsy, and think of how you can create your own perspective shots. It doesn’t take a special camera, just a bit of imagination.

  • September4th

    7 Comments

    Frankencamera is here. Researchers at Stanford are “out to reinvent digital photography with the introduction of an open-source digital camera, which will give programmers around the world the chance to create software that will teach cameras new tricks.”

    Computational photography is an emerging field of study, in which researchers are working hard to allow programmers the potential of creating new ways to extend the possibilities of what powerful digital cameras can accomplish.

    This article from the Stanford University News site, is very interesting, interesting if you’re a camera geek, that is. Imagine having a digital camera not limited in it’s functions by the software provided by the manufacturer. The article provides several real-world applications for such possibilities:

    Extending Dynamic Range – HDR photos are all the rage right now in the world of digital photography. In a nutshell, you take several versions of the same photo using different exposure levels, and then combine them to create a single composition in which every pixel is lit perfectly. Unfortunately, most HDRs you’ll see are more in the line with abstract art rather than the subtle use of exposure to optimally light each pixel. No matter what your intent would be, open source photography may offer is the ability to take extended dynamic range photos on-demand rather that in the digital darkroom with tools such as Photoshop and Photomatix.

    Video Resolution Enhancement – computational photography offers the possibility of creating higher resolution video from traditionally low resolution cameras, by interspersing high resolution still shots periodically and allowing algorithms to recombine them into a higher quality final product.

    One of the more interesting, and perhaps dismaying, aspects is the potential to allow just about anyone to take a high quality photograph by leveraging photos of the same scene which have been taken before, and shared on a network.

    Imagine someone standing in front of a commonly photographed scene – let’s say the Eiffel Tower. Using the principles of computational photography, if the camera was connected to a network, it could potentially analyze highly-rated photos of the same scene and use the exact same settings as those who had taken the shot before. You could significantly lessen the chances of taking a poor shot, but at the same time, you’d also increase the sheer number of instances of the exact same photo. Why not just download the photo someone else took and go get an espresso instead of standing around taking photos?

    It’s interesting to think about how digital cameras have incredible power, but most users don’t have a clue how to harness them. Basic operation is often alien to people who’ve spent hundreds of dollars on very nice cameras, so I doubt they’ll be the target audience of open source photography.

    Ultimately it will be the geeks who get excited about extending their equipment beyond the manufacturer’s software, so I suppose my fears of endless duplicates of a scene, right down to tone, shadows, etc. are unfounded.

    Heck, it’s not like there aren’t a billion shots of the Eiffel Tower as is. What’s a few billion more?

  • August25th

    3 Comments

    My friend Steve, a talented photographer amongst other things, sent me an article topic idea the other day. He wanted to talk about how the availability, and more importantly, the affordability of high pixel cameras has changed the nature of photography. His basic premise is that by allowing photographers to capture such great expanse and detail, it gives them the ability to create several different compositions from the same shot, much more so with each new generation of powerful cameras.

    Steve sent me two examples to help illustrate his point. On a recent trip to northern California, he took a photo of a water garden replete with lilies and wildlife:

    safrog1

    The photo composed as taken is interesting, lots of colors and shapes to attract the viewer’s eye, but the high resolution allowed Steve to crop and zoom in on one small segment:

    safrog2

    For my tastes, the second composition is much more interesting, driving deep into the details of the frog and the lily pad on which he sits. Beyond the obvious appeal of the photo, I love the red corona around the lily pad and the way the clarity of the water makes it appear as if the frog and pad are floating in air.

    Steve’s point is well-taken, I think. No doubt, accomplished photographers will always try to ensure an interesting composition when they press the shutter release, but high resolution photography allows so much creativity in the virtual darkroom that a single capture can produce multiple worthy final compositions.

    Applying the principle of the “rule of thirds” to segments of a large image using tools such as Photoshop or Lightroom, photographers can now take a potentially different tack when composing their shots, or at the very least, spend more time examining the outcomes to look for other interesting compositions beyond what they envisioned when they looked through their viewfinders the first time.

    Steve’s Flickr portfolio has lots of interesting photos he’s taken all over the world, I encourage you to check them out and comment. He has taken several photos I’m in awe of, but two of my favorites are:

    Poser
    and
    Brooklyn Bridge

  • August21st

    5 Comments

    I read a funny article in Wired today about their “Top Ten Photography Peeve’s”, and I have to admit, I agree to large extent.

    It’s not a long article and it’s supposed to be humorous, so I won’t just repost it here, but I’d like to talk briefly about one of the article’s points – Rock Concert Strobage.

    Stop taking photos and just listen!

    Stop taking photos and just listen!

    What that means is people using flash at concerts trying to take pictures of the band. Next to my number one annoyance at concerts – people who spend the whole time talking to each other and have to shout because, you know, there’s a BAND playing nearby – the whole phenomena of people whipping out their cell phone or point-and-shoot cameras at shows drives me nuts. You can’t go to a show anymore without a sea of arms up in the arm, taking endless poor quality shots.

    Do people even go to listen to the music anymore?

    So here is a basic primer on how to take a photo at a music show. Hopefully you’ll be happy with one of your first efforts and put the phone/camera back in your pocket and let me enjoy the show.

    1. Turn off your flash. This is the number one mistake people make. Yes, it’s dark, but your flash only illuminates for about 7 – 10 feet. If you aren’t standing right at the stage, it’s not going to help, unless you want a very brightly lit shot of the backs of the heads of the people standing in front of you. The lights from the stage are what you are going to have to use, not your flash.

    2. Stand still or put your camera on something steady. Since you’re not using a flash, your camera is going to slow down its shutter to allow as much light as possible into the shot. This means if you move at all, your photo will be blurry. Find a spot near the edge of the crowd where you can place your camera on a flat, steady surface.

    3. Use the timer. Most point and shoots have a self timer feature. Learn how to use it and when you need to take low light shots like this, use it. Even just pressing the shutter button can move your camera enough to cause blur, so find that level spot, set the self timer, and step back.

    Using these tips will help you get the best possible shot from your camera, but be forewarned, it still probably won’t be anything great. Concert photography is an advanced technique, requires expensive low light lenses, and is best left to the professionals. I’ve had a few assignments to shoot concerts in my life, and I’ve gained a great appreciation for those who do it well.

    My advice is go to the shows to hear the band, and look online for high quality photos later.

  • August12th

    2 Comments

    Stark, black and white photos taken in a Brazilian insane asylum are featured in a powerful James Estrin article today in “Lens”, the photojournalism blog of the NY Times:

    http://lens.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/08/12/showcase-33/

    Photo by Claudio Edinger

    Photo by Claudio Edinger

    The photographer, Claudio Edinger, was inspired to visit the asylum after watching his grandmother deteriorate from Alzheimer’s disease, and the resulting photo essay is jarring.

    I love the power of photography in situations such as this, where the content truly rules. The photos are not heavily stylized, they don’t rely upon elaborate techniques or sophisticated lighting.

    Using simple equipment and effective composition, Edinger’s photos give the viewer “punch to the stomach” insight into lives of people all but forgotten.

    The availability of powerful, affordable cameras and lenses, post-production tools such as Photoshop, and especially free online galleries such as Flickr, have allowed photography to fairly explode in the past decade. The capacity to capture a quality image has expanded to include just about anyone with a passing interest in photography, but essays such as Edlinger’s ably illustrate the difference between merely taking pictures and telling a story with photos.