“There’s something happening here / But what it is ain’t exactly clear…”

Apologies to Steven Stills and Buffalo Springfield for co-opting their anti-war song, but this opening phrase often plays in my head in relation to any number of associations. I developed this roll of Kodak Double X a few weeks ago, then scanned it. This image was one that I singled out.

I was using my recently restored Nikon F2 Photomic, which I constantly point out has been in my camera bag since I purchased it used in 1978, and a new-to-me Nikkor 43-86mm f3.5 lens, gifted to me earlier this year. I do not typically shoot with a zoom and have, in fact, sold off two or three in recent years. It’s totally unreasonable, but I eschew zooms because prime lenses are supposedly “sharper,” which is an almost meaningless term in the age of pixel-pumping, and somehow “cheating” because you can…well, zoom. Rather than position yourself, Bresson-like, in the ideal position.

This type of snobbish constraint was something I picked up as a young autodidact from magazines and photojournalism student friends. It’s rubbish, but it clutters my head, nonetheless.

I was drawn to this scene because it was rich in content. There is, indeed, lots of “something happening here.” I set up the shot, guiltily using the zoom to frame the scene. I pressed the shutter once and felt satisfied, but before I pulled the camera from my face, I watched the person walk quickly into the lower right of the frame. Now there was something more happening here. I instinctively pressed the shutter again.

“BAM!” It was an Emeril moment.

I am describing this image because, like the best dishes, it has layers of intentional content, from the tiger-stripe curtain to conquering ivy, to the damaged wheelbarrow (so much depends upon a wheelbarrow). This is not a swipe-type image. It is meant to be savored – compliments of the photographer.