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When I got to Venice, I met up with several other friends, including my good friend, colleague, and extremely taleted cinematographer Richie Trimble. Riche had, only the day before, completed building a new bicycle from scratch, albeit one that was 14.5 feet (4.5 meters) tall.
Note that the other two bicycles behind Richie are other “tall bikes”, albeit ones of standard size made from two bicycle frames welded together.
I can’t imagine it would be possible to build a bicycle any taller and still ride it. As we rode around Venice and Marina Del Rey, Richie was constantly ducking under bridges and power lines only a few inches over his head.
At some points, other riders would ride ahead and clear pedestrians and vehicles out of the way to make a path, so Richie could ride under parts of obstacles that had more clearance.
I’m sure you’re thinking “how does he get off?” “How does he stop?”. These are all very good and valid questions, so I will direct you to this very fine video, shot by Richie himself from the GoPro strapped to his chest. If you think it’s scary to see photos *of* the bicycle being ridden, you should see the view from the driver’s seat from the man himself:]]>
Let me explain.
While traveling for Magic Window, I have a pretty good system worked out for picking locations. Before I even head to a new city, I tend to study Wikipedia, Flickr, and maps to decide what I want to shoot and where best to shoot it from, taking into account angles, where the sun will be setting and at what time, and how busy a location might be. In a tourist city like Prague, this is very important. Once I get there I usually spend a few hours location scouting earlier in the day before I commit to a location for three hours.
My location today was a small island in the middle of the river with a direct view of the 14th century-built Charles Bridge, also an internationally-known landmark slammed with tourists. Shooting on the bridge itself can only be accomplished at sunrise, and I haven’t done that yet.
So, at around 4:30pm, I get to my previously scouted spot to find absolutely perfect conditions, and few people in sight. Without too many people around I’m free to relax and not worry about being sold trinkets or being distracted by hustlers and pickpockets, both of which have happened, although I’ve yet to have anything stolen.
The location was quiet, with the occasional couple holding hands and looking at the scenery or a tourist coming by to snap a few photos and leave.
I set up my camera at the very apex of the island, and noticed a rock with some kind of symbol embedded in it, which i thought nothing of besides “that looks interesting”. Deciding that this was the best location to get the widest shot, I set the timer and sat down under a tree a few yards away.
A little over an hour later, I noticed a large group of people walking towards me banging drums and singing, a few with dogs and small children. The children and dogs immediately ran towards the water, making me very nervous. For a few long minutes I did nothing, until the children decided to duck under my tripod legs while playing. I lept up and started shouting at them “Too close! Don’t touch it!” over and over again, which meant nothing because they didn’t speak English. One little girl stuck her tongue out at me and ducked under the camera again. Never having dealt with this situation before, I had no idea how to handle somebody else’s misbehaving children that didn’t speak the same language as me. Eventually an adult came over, scolded the children in Czech, and pulled them away. Meanwhile people were coming up to the rock-symbol, rubbing it, and walking away.
I stood by my camera uncomfortably, trying to keep an eye on it as well as my backpack with my other camera, iPad, and a half-dozen lenses in it. I had no idea what was going on but I was in the very center of it. Eventually an adult with a camera came up to me.
“You speak English?” he asked.
“Yes!” I said, thankful that somebody else did.
“Is this a timelapse you’re doing?”
“Yup. Can I… Leave this here?”
“How long are you going to be here?”
“Oh, until it gets dark. 7:15 or so.” (A full hour and a half)
“Oh. Do you suppose you could come back tomorrow?”
“Aaaahhh… Errmmm… No… I’m only here a few days, and I’ve been here an hour and a half already, I’m kind of committed to this location now. There was nobody here when I got here, and I didn’t know you guys were going to need this spot. It’s too late for me to find another one now. I feel bad though, but this is my work and I came here from California to shoot timelapses in Prague.”
“Okay, okay, I understand. We’re going to burn a large doll and throw it in the river. We do this every year for the equinox to celebrate the end of winter. Is that okay with you? This -is- the prettiest spot in Prague!.”
Now, at this point I had no idea how I had convinced him that he now needed my permission. I felt very weird about it though, after all they were locals, this was their city, not mine, and I was in their yearly equinox spot, literally on top of what appeared to be a sacred symbol, and I had just shouted at their kids. I was keenly aware that the “right” thing to do was to pack up and go, and I was already mentally prepared to do just that. All this was running through my mind, and what came out of my mouth was “Of course! Please do!”
“Okay. We can throw it over that way if you like.” He gesticulated away from the camera. “But we usually throw it over here. I don’t want to ruin your shot,” he said without any trace of sarcasm.
“Oh, that’s fine, no problem!”
“You should take pictures!”
I had just noticed that I had an icy death grip on my second camera, which I had hastily taken out of the bag for protection. The man walked off, talked to someone else, and immediately a large effigy that I hadn’t noticed before was lifted up to loud applause, a surge in drum beating, and some chanting in Czech.
Within moments it was on fire. Another man waded out into the water, shouted something in Czech, and threw it as far as he could. There was much loud applause as the smoldering mannequin drifted down the river and under the bridge.
I’ve synced the timestamp metadata from my two cameras (one was on an intervalometer, the other handheld) on the photos below and put them in order:
15 minutes later the group had broken up without anyone else speaking to me, and I was left alone again for another hour and a half as daylight melted away on the last day of winter.
I think there is a lesson to be learned here. I’m not sure if it’s “be more respectful to local cultures” or if it’s “be assertive and people will respect you”.
Either way, I felt like kind of an asshole for most of yesterday evening.
…That is, until I downloaded the photos and realized that the kids had indeed bumped my tripod and I had to spend 40 minutes lining everything up in post.]]>
I landed in London a few days ago. I’m a huge fan of London, and the UK in general. In a lot of ways it feels like a far-flung older European extension of America, and in so many others I’m constantly reminded that it’s still an entirely different country a world away.
This is my third visit to the United Kingdom, but up until now I’d never been outside of London. On Sunday, I rented a car and met up with my friend Peter and his girlfriend Sakura to head out into the countryside. Since it was my rental car and I was supposed to be the driver, I gave it a good effort. I made it about a block and a half before I encountered my first right turn, and, of course, wound up driving on the wrong side of the road. Between trying to shift with my left hand, keeping the car centered in the road when I’m used to sitting on the left side of the car, and not hitting pedestrians, keeping the car on the right (left) side of the road was too much. Less than a mile later we did the ‘ol Chinese fire drill at a stoplight and I gave the driving over to Peter.
We stopped at a lovely 16th century-era restaurant for Sunday Roast, which is not really “a thing” in America, although I wouldn’t mind if it was. (Sooo much meat!)
The restaurant abutted the Grand Union Canal, another centuries-old piece of English infrastructure. We didn’t see any boats go by, but there were plenty of ducks, and I shot my first experimental tilt-shift time-lapse. It came out pretty good, here’s a frame:
We spent the rest of the day wandering around the countryside, first stopping to shoot a scene at the Berkhampted Castle Ruins:
Then making our way over to the Stocks and Pond in Aldbury:
Then to the Monument in Ashridge:
And finally culminating in a 3-hour long stretch of shooting the sunset from Ivinghoe Beacon, the flagship shot of the day:
After returning the car, I decided that I’m permanently opting out of driving in countries that drive on the left. I don’t much care for driving in general, especially in cities, but flipping left and right around and trying to keep two tons of steel from hitting other cars and crushing bicyclists is too much.
I’ll stick to the double-decker bus.
It was beautiful. As someone who grew up in Los Angeles, I’m not accustomed to being around snow unless I’m skiing in it. I’ve never lived in a city that gets regular snow. I actually brought my skis with me expecting that I might be able to ski through the financial district, but after looking at the streets I decided to keep my skis in working condition.
Really, it wasn’t so bad. Of course, being that Seattle isn’t accustomed to such things, the city basically completely shut down.
In dozens of places that I’m accustomed to seeing hundreds of people, it was all but deserted.
After wandering around a bit and calling some Seattle friends, I found the party:
A steep street in the Capitol Hill district had been completely closed to vehicles due to the inability to plow it and the impossibility of driving on it.
People were sliding down the ice in anything they could find. Boxes, pieces of cardboard from boxes…
…Pieces of cardboard that weren’t from boxes:
Just about anything that looked like fun.
And yes, some people actually had real sleds.
And, of course, some people had the same idea I did and brought their skis.
And that instead of going, we holed up in Tahoe to get work done?
Well, we wound up going to Black Rock City anyway.
Josh and Moshen have this awesome friend Mike, who owns a 6-seater single-engine airplane:
Josh and Moshen had planned doing a fly-over of Black Rock City, and at the 11th hour, the invitation was extended to me. Moshen drove us to Minden, a tiny town in Nevada near Tahoe, and there we met up with Mike and Leslie.
Here’s Josh and I looking horribly scruffy. I also look somewhat nonplussed, but the A/C hadn’t kicked in yet, and Nevada is an uncomfortably warm place in the winter, and extra-uncomfortable at the tail end of summer.
After fueling up and going through customary pre-flight safety rituals, we took off on a 40 minute flight to Black Rock Desert.
Here’s Pyramid Lake from the air. Our camping spot from my previous post is just beyond the furthest-visible outcropping on the left edge of the lake:
More photos after the jump…
Not sure what this mountain is, but it’s pretty amazing how it’s a darker color than the surrounding desert. I’ll bet there is a good reason for this, but I have only a passing knowledge of geology that doesn’t include desert mountain coloration.
After traversing a few more mountains, Black Rock City appeared in the distance.
As we got closer, we could make out the shape of streets, and see the Man and the Temple:
From 10,000 feet, it’s difficult to get a sense of the sheer size of the place. It’s the 9th-largest city in Nevada, and exists for only one week a year. Being up in the air and without being able to make out individual people or objects, it’s difficult to get a sense of scale or sense any movement. It was certainly impressive to see, but being in a small plane high above it all, with the naked eye it felt distant and static.
Fortunately, Canon makes some really impressive lenses. Looking at the photos on my computer a day later, I could make out groups of people on the ground and see the arrangement and composition of the camps, and all of a sudden it came to life.
Here are two zoomed-in crops of center camp from the photo above:
Here’s the Man:
And a few more shots of the city:
After circling a half-dozen times, we made our way back to Minden.
Josh and Moshen are kicking themselves for not having landed, even if for a few minutes. Personally, I have no regrets.
Even though that would have been pretty cool.
A huge thanks to Mike for having me along. I hope to do it again next year.
Or hey, hopefully sooner.]]>