During the recent holiday season I found myself in San Francisco's Ghirardelli Square, famous tourist mecca and the center of the universe for chocolate and ice cream cravers.
As I approached the main entrance, well before the intoxicating effects of sugar overload set in, I experienced a strange sense of déjà vu: I'd not been to this locale in far more than a decade — perhaps as many as twenty years had passed — yet in an instant a long buried memory percolated up hazily from the depths of formerly dormant mental archives . . . I suddenly recalled that it was in a shop in this square where I first laid eyes on Ansel.
Whether or not Ansel noticed me is hard to say; he is to this day, after all, rather stoic and closed-mouthed. Nonetheless I was drawn to him. The attraction was not derived from any sense I had of fuzzy cuteness and all that promises. Au contraire, Ansel stood out (or sat out, as it were) due to his studied frown and clearly skeptical, if not outright irritable expression. No saccarine version of warm-and-fuzzy bromide, this creature. Nope, far from it.
From that first sighting it was clear to me that I'd discovered a suitable foil to my perpetual need (at the time) for superficial soothing. Here, if I could but bear it, was the chance to establish a relationship with a creature who would perhaps provide a bit of security and comfort in times of need . . . but always with an accompanying dose of quietly fierce admonishments that I embrace reality and deal with it.
And so it has been through the years since we left that nominally escapist establishment together. Partners in time.
I admit to having selfishly kept Ansel nearly completely out of the limelight of my social circles; ours is a very private relationship. Indeed, only my wife and, to a lesser extent, my daughter have gotten to know know him closely. Few others have even met him.
Thus, this submission's image is a great risk — his reluctant agreement to assist in my new pursuit of studio lighting (and portraiture in particular) is a Big Deal. Much like Salinger's example, he guards his space fiercely, and shuns publicity. Even so, sit for me he did, just this past evening, for a rare photograph.
Naturally I'm deeply grateful for Ansel's patient cooperation: he posed at some length, without uttering a single complaint, despite many nudges and adjustments in search of just the right perspective, composition, and (above all) lighting. Goldilocks moments, he might say, if only he dared.
In the end this result emerged. The setup: two studio strobes, both using black umbrella reflectors. Close in, at nearly right-angled to his left, was the "primary", set to 1/2 of full output. The secondary, somewhat farther away and at roughy 45-degrees to the right of his nose, was set to 1/8th power. No on-camera flash was utilized. Minor adjustments in post-processing were applied using LightRoom 3.4 and Photoshop CS5.
Thus, I present not only my first "formal" portraiture experiment using studio lighting, but also the world-wide first introduction of a close, closely-guarded member of our family.
Ansel Bear, #1918-7D;
© 2013 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.
(click image for larger version)
Details: January 31, 2013, Canon 7D; f/8 @ 1/160 sec; ±0 EV; ISO 200;
Canon EF 100mm f/2.8 Macro USM
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Canon EF 100mm f/2.8 Macro USM
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