Photography

A study in beauty

(Click on each photograph to see a larger picture on a separate picture page.)

In the early 2000s, I was enmeshed in the wonderful world of black and white portraiture. I used that time well.

I reached out to friends and contacts and asked them if they’d like to have their pictures taken. Everyone I asked appreciated the chance to have their portraits done.

These images come from that period, when I did a photo shoot in natural light in Woodland Park, in Seattle, My model was an admittedly beautiful person. I met her working, and we bumped into each other infrequently.

This photo shoot also represented a collaborative effort. We each contributed to the final body of images, which I took with a Nikon and Yashica twin-lens reflex.

All I can say is, some people are simply beautiful. They just look good on film. My model was one of those people.

I never saw her again after I gave her the 11×14-inch prints I promised. I would like to think she has one hanging in her study.

O tannenbaum, o tannenbaum

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A Christmas tree lot near my home in Portland is always a busy place after Thanksgiving and up to the final days before Christmas. I love the smell of Christmas trees. I can remember the ritual from decades ago getting them with my mom and sister on a cold night at a small lot not far from my home in the St. Louis area. Decorating the tree was a tradition we did as a family of three. For me, the sight of a tree brings a feeling of both nostalgia and peace. Happy holidays, everyone.

Final fall fling and fading colors

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Fall in Portland this year was drier than normal. The colors, which are primarily red and yellow, stuck around until the end of November. I took these shots on a route I normally run, through Riverview Cemetery, through the River View Natural Area, and along the Willamette River. A running injury forced me to walk it two weekends back. When you go slower, you see the same scenery differently. The leaves are now mostly fallen and the stark openness of winter is upon us.

At long last, I reboot my photography website

After many weekends of work, I have nearly completed the re-launch of my old and once-again-new photography website called rudyfoto.com. I have published this website for more than a decade. I rebooted it after a long siesta of several years.

Photographs that I previously published on my rudyowens.com website can now be found at rudyfoto.com. The re-launch also allowed me to post new images and themes, including an enitrely news series on surfing in Oregon and compilations of my essays compled over many years on the American city. That series includes St. Louis, Portland, Seattle, and Detroit, all of which I have called home at some point during my life. My other series include travel photo essays and documentary projects, incuding my series on Nazi Germany’s damning legacy of human rights abuses, which I completed between 1999 and 2001.

My main webpage, rudyowens.com, will remain my main web hub, and I will continue to publish periodic photo essays on this blog.

Please let me know what you think about my old and dear friend online friend: rudyfoto.com.

Leucadia Memories

(Click on each photograph to see a larger picture on a separate picture page.)

In September 2014, and quite by accident, I found myself in the mostly high-end Encinitas, California neighborhood of Leucadia during an eventful visit to San Diego. The trip was pivotal in my lifelong quest to know my biological kin and then write a book about the decades-long journey.

Leucadia played a small part in that adventure.

The community lies in north San Diego County, along the Pacific Ocean and in the hill just above the waterfront. An Amtrak rail line runs through the community, connecting San Diego with Los Angeles.

I found the people to be friendly and the surf shops, coffee shops, and eateries very laid back. People looked prettier than average, but in San Diego, I discovered that was common too.

One website called it: “Eclectic. Funky. Hip. Happening.” The same article went on to describe houses selling for north of $1 million. To me, that’s far from funky. But the community is unquestionably cool.

I came here looking for a hotel that was close to the ocean, yet far from the city. This was the perfect spot. I immediately fell in love with its mellow vibe. It was a perfect place to launch my beach runs and hang out in the local cafes.

I came back again in 2016, this time to try surfing, take a quick holiday from Portland, and work on my then draft memoir. The place felt mostly the same, except a restaurant had closed and a new brewpub had opened.

In another life, one where I had great financial success, I could see myself here, for at least a couple of years. In my case, I had to settle for two short stays that are now fading away.

Here are a few shots from those fun visits.

Beautiful morning light in Lafayette Square

 

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During my last visit to St. Louis, I indulged myself. I decided to stay in a historic mansion that is now a a bed and breakfast called the Lehmann House, just off of Lafayette Park, in the historic Lafayette Square neighborhood of St. Louis. This beautiful section of urban space is unrivaled in any U.S. city. It was one of the earliest planned communities in the once mighty industrial city, and it catered to the very wealthy when it was developed in the 1800s. It was built around the oldest municipal park west of the Mississippi River, Lafayette Park.

I have shared photo essays on my blog before about the area’s exquisitely built brick homes and architectural styles. I did not have much time to enjoy the area as I had hoped, but I squeezed in two morning walks that were about as perfect as I can remember, ever. The light had that brilliant Midwest-morning Kodacolor glow, and the air smelled fresh from a recent rain. I wandered around the “hood” and snapped these shots, allowing my senses to guide me. If you visit St. Louis, you have to put this place on your list. You will then wonder what we have done so wrong in urban design since we built communities with craftsmanship and care not that long ago.

Pre-game scene with Timbers fans

 

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The Portland Timbers, the city’s Major League Soccer franchise, have an enthusiastic fan base, including the noisy Timbers Army. I came down to Providence Park in early August for a work project and caught some of the pre-game action. One thing was clear. You don’t have to be a soccer player or athlete to be a hardcore sports fan.

Seward, tourist hub of southcentral Alaska

Seward, Alaska, the small port city on the Kenai Peninsula, remains one of the most visited Alaska tourist communities. Nestled along the scenic Resurrection Bay and sitting next to scenic mountains and nearby fjords, it offers fabulous views and access to Alaska’s abundant wildlife, as well as fishing. The foreign-run cruise-ship industry also docks in Seward and unloads literally hundreds of thousands of visitors every tourist season—an estimated 1.3 million people will visit Alaska by these floating behemoths of the sea in 2019.

I frequently drove to Seward when I worked and lived in Anchorage from 2004 to 2010. The drive offered spectacular views, and each trip was rewarded by equally great vistas and experiences in Seward. I loved late spring and early summer the most. Here are a few of the scenes from trips I made in 2009 and 2010. I miss it and remember the landscape fondly.

Icons of eastern Oregon

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During the past two months, I have traveled widely in Oregon. I always enjoy an Oregon road trip. The high and wide-open plateaus of north central and eastern Oregon, just before the Blue Mountains, rekindled my love of the open road and empty places.

I made two separate trips: one to Condon, in Gilliam County, and another to Pendleton, in Umatilla County. Gilliam County is bisected by the John Day River, a popular fishing and rafting destination. The landscape is dominated by a high plateau and constant wind, making it an ideal location for massive wind farms that sprout majestically above wheat fields. The county seat, Condon (pop. 682), is a charming community that felt alive and loved by its residents.

Pendleton (pop. 16,682) sits on the Interstate 84 corridor, further to the east, straddling a valley near the start of the Blue Mountains. The community is a true Western town. It is famous for its rodeo, woolen goods, and also whiskey. Nearby Umatilla is also famous for the now decommissioned 20,000-acre Umatilla Chemical Depot, run by the U.S. Army that was home to a massive stockpile of chemical weapons.

Agriculture, along with wind energy, are two major economic drivers in this sparsely populated area of Oregon. Native Americans have lived here for millennia. Pendleton lies within the ancestral lands of the Confederated Tribes of the Umatilla Reservation, whose designs adorn Pendleton’s famous woolen blankets and more. The tribe also runs the Wildhorse Resort & Casino, a major economic resource for the area.

Visually, I was mostly struck by the iconic imagery presented by the grain elevators in both areas, along with the towering wind turbines. The site of large, manmade structures in mostly open spaces has always appealed to my visual sensibilities, wherever I may be.

Easter 2019, suddenly a day of sadness

It is a sad Easter, not a joyful one that most of us had hoped for. I woke up this morning to the news that more than 200 people in Sri Lanka had been murdered by coordinated terrorist attacks that targeted foreigners at luxury hotels and innocent civilians, Christians, at churches.

This terrible day is one of many that we may soon forget, given such attacks have happened at places of worship so many times in the past 20 years.

The news made me think about what I had heard the night before at an Easter vigil that I attended at a local Episcopal Church. I decided to go because I like the tranquility services provide me. I also like listening to a good sermon that touches on things we are too afraid to talk about outside of places of worship, like the meaning of life and death.

The sermon was delivered by one of the church’s Episcopal priests, a former registered nurse. She must have done palliative care, given what she described as her time spent with patients who were on their final journey in life, with hours to live.

She talked about what happens the last hours of life, when patients make a passage from this world to whatever is in the next. She outlined the changes she would see among some patients in their last hours, when they get ready to let go. She described it as a calm and even a glow. She used these images to compare to how Jesus would have looked after the crucifixion and what Mary Magdalene and Salome were expecting to find in the tomb after seeing a gruesome event—the crucifixion of three persons a day earlier. Leave it to a nurse to focus on the details like this and to make us connect with the thing we fear the most in life, which is the end of life.

No one lost in these incidents in Sri Lanka would have the peace that comes in such end-of-life moments. One of the terrible images we saw on the internet showed blood on a statue of Jesus, while other shots showed the victims, where they died suddenly.

What happened was chaotic and meaningless. Most of us likely would prefer a peaceful passing, and be ready when it comes. In reality, many of us will not pass that way, and for some, the passing is tragic and swift, as we saw for many in Sri Lanka.

I have no pictures that capture the end of life or Sri Lanka. I do have some photos of Israel, where events in the life of Jesus reportedly occurred according to the accounts left in the Bible. Here is one from Jerusalem, a holy city to three faiths and, reportedly, where Jesus of Nazareth was crucified. The photo is from the interior of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, reportedly the place where Jesus was crucified by the Romans and entombed.

Easter is meant to be a day of joy and renewal for hundreds of millions of Christians the world over to celebrate the victory of their savior, Jesus Christ, over death, according to Christian teaching.

This year, Easter has another meaning. There will be no joy for weeks and months to come for far too many.