Breakfast at Susie’s

 Breakfast at Susie's Sunset Cafe

(Click to enlarge)

 

The name of Susie’s Café on the square in beautiful downtown LaFayette, Georgia was officially Susie’s Sunset Café. But I always thought it should have been named Susie’s Sunrise Café, because the early morning sun streamed in through the plate-glass front windows and illuminated everything all the way to the back wall.

Susie’s had booths down each side for those who preferred a feeling of relative privacy, but it also had a couple of long tables down the center where lawyers, businessmen, farmers, factory workers, and gas station attendants ate their breakfasts together and chewed the fat (no reflection on the bacon or sausage) in amiable equality. 

Susie's has been gone for several years now, replaced by a Japanese restaurant, and LaFayette is the poorer for its loss. Places like Susie's are the heart and soul of country towns. 

On a technical note, the photograph was made with an Olympus SPn rangefinder camera with a non-interchangeable 40mm lens on Fujichrome Sensia RD 100 film. I had noticed the potential for this picture sometime previously, but it took more than one attempt to get myself seated in the best position with the most interesting combination of people in place. No one noticed me as I made a few exposures with my small camera from a booth to one side.

(Photograph and text adapted from my limited-edition book Georgia: A Backroads Portrait.)

Blog Note: I post Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings at alifeinphotography.blogspot.com. I'm trying to build up my readership, so if you're reading this on Facebook and like what I write, would you please consider sharing my posts?

(Photographs copyright David B. Jenkins 2020)

Soli Gloria Deo

To the glory of God alone

In Praise of the Unspectacular Photograph

  

Early Snow

Sourwood Lane, McLemore Cove

Walker County, Georgia

Friend and fellow photo-blogger Dennis Mook, who blogs as The Wandering Lensman at thewanderinglensman.com has been on a roll lately with some really good posts.

On November 19th, he wrote about wabi-sabi, a Japanese term that means the appreciation of "beauty that is imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete in nature." But when he looks at today's landscape photography, he no longer sees a representation of nature or nature's imperfections: he sees photographs that are dramatic, over-edited, and over-saturated; hyper-real and hyper-perfect.

On November 27th, he posted a photograph that was so quietly beautiful that I was compelled to write in his comments section "This photograph is quietly, modestly, perfectly beautiful. I would hang it on my wall anytime. It is a perfect counterpoint to the "spectacular," overprocessed photographs you wrote about on Nov. 17. . . it will have far more "staying power" on your wall than a so-called "spectacular" landscape. It will give the eye delight and rest every time you walk into the room."

From my very earliest days in photography my aim has been to capture a moment of stillness in each photograph. My name for my portfolio of "art" photographs is "Images of Tranquility." My photographs are mostly quiet, and I hope, quietly beautiful. I don't do spectacular. I just see what I see and try to show it.

Ricky's Trees

Daugherty Gap Road, McLemore Cove

Walker County, Georgia

My post-processing is pretty simple: I have an old version of Photoshop -- CS2 -- that does most of what I want to do. Just an exposure adjustment in Curves, if needed, and light burning and dodging with the Brush tool, plus a simple adjustment in Unsharp Masking that enhances mid-tone contrast without affecting highlights or shadows, and I'm done. I want my photographs to look like the scenes as I saw them, not hyped-up renditions that never existed in reality.

Rooted in the Past

South Dicks Creek Road, Armuchee Valley

Walker County, Georgia

I realize this will not make me popular with some photographers, and maybe not with the art-photo buying public. So be it. I am thankfully, too old to care.

Blog Note: I post Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings at alifeinphotography.blogspot.com. I'm trying to build up my readership, so if you're reading this on Facebook and like what I write, would you please consider sharing my posts?

(Photographs copyright David B. Jenkins 2020)

Soli Gloria Deo

To the glory of God alone

 

Time to Go

Our herd, on a foggy morning.

We raised cattle for 24 years. It was

a lot of work and deeply satisfying.

 

Well, it has finally happened. We have a contract on our home and property; the property which we bought 35 years ago, onto which we moved in a 12x40 mobile home 33 years ago this month, and the home which we built almost 27 years ago. It has been an incredible journey. But it's time to go. Upkeep and maintenance are more than we care any longer to deal with. The choice is not easy, but nonetheless clear. We can walk out now, or be carried out later. We think (hope) we have a few more years of traveling in us and that's what we'd like to do.

We have about five weeks before we have to be out of our house to make room for the crew that will set up our estate sale. We're pretty much selling out to the walls, taking with us only those things that will fit in a fifth-wheel trailer or motor home, plus a small storage unit. It's amazing how much two people can accumulate in more than 55 years of marriage. I had thought that it would hurt to give up all these "things," but you know, it really doesn't. We used them, we enjoyed owning them, and now we're ready to move on. 

Our 22-foot travel trailer and Chevy 1500 pickup which have served us so well will have to make way for a trailer large enough to live in and a truck powerful enough to pull it. It's been great, especially the trip west in 2018. 

I'll do my best to keep up my regular Monday-Wednesday-Friday blogging schedule, but things are gonna be really busy around here for the next month or two, so some posts may be short or MIA.

Blog Note: I post Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings at alifeinphotography.blogspot.com. I'm trying to build up my readership, so if you're reading this on Facebook and like what I write, would you please consider sharing my posts?

(Photograph copyright David B. Jenkins 2020)

Soli Gloria Deo

To the glory of God alone

The Chicken Farmer of Cook County

Chicken Farmer Danny Gandy with pet rooster.

U.S. Highway 41, Cook County, Georgia

"This is not a fighting cock."

 

Traveling north through Cook County on U.S. Highway 41 after leaving his sick Honda with a mechanic friend near Hahira, Michael Largent and I noticed a small house beside the road with a yard full of the distinctive shelters often used by those who raise fighting cocks. Each shelter had a large and colorful rooster attached to it by a tether. 

Danny Gandy's chicken farm. Although some of the

roosters appear to be free, they are actually tethered.

I thought it was a sight worth photographing, so we pulled off the road. In a few moments we were met by the affable Danny Gandy, owner of the establishment, who explained to us that these were not fighting chickens. It is not illegal to raise gamecocks in Georgia, but fighting them is. Nonetheless, the "sport" continues, with the law often looking the other way. 

Danny was very cooperative, allowing me to make as many photographs as I wished and proudly posing with his roosters, all the while assuring me that "these are not fighting chickens." 

One of Danny's roosters.

 Despite all his assurances I somehow doubted if any of those roosters would ever see the inside of a WalMart freezer. But I wrote down Danny's address and sent him a print of the picture at the top of this post.

All photos Canon EOS 5D Classic, 24-85mm f3.5-4.5 EF lens.

Blog Note: I post Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings at alifeinphotography.blogspot.com. I'm trying to build up my readership, so if you're reading this on Facebook and like what I write, would you please consider sharing my posts?

(Photographs copyright David B. Jenkins 2020)

Soli Gloria Deo

To the glory of God alone

Another Definitive Portrait

Choral Director Glenn Draper

In an earlier post I described a definitive portrait as closely related to the editorial portrait, but going deeper, showing not only what the person looks like, but also revealing something about his or her character.

This portrait of the distinguished choral director Glenn Draper was made in my first studio around 1986 when he was at the height of his career. Dr. Draper's accomplishments are truly too numerous to list in one blog post. He was director of music at First Presbyterian Church in Chattanooga for 30 years, while also heading up the Choral Activities program at the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga. He was director of music at the Lake Junaluska United Methodist Conference Center for 55 years and organized and directed choral groups such as the UTC Singing Mocs and the Glenn Draper Singers, which he directed in a performance at the White House while in his mid-80s.

I was transitioning from Kodachrome 64 to Fujichrome around the time I made this portrait and had to dig the original slide out of my files to see which film I had used. It was Fujichrome. I loved the warmth and clarity of Kodachrome, but Fujichrome is also a beautiful film, especially the original RDP100. As you can see.

Fuji eventually won the day because I could get it processed in a few hours at a local lab or process it myself, while Kodachrome had to be sent away to a Kodak lab and had a turnaround time of several days. Over the years I processed thousands of rolls of Fujichrome, using Unicolor or Kodak E-6 chemistry in a Unicolor film drum or later, in a King Concepts film processor.

For this portrait I seated Dr. Draper in front of a blue, seamless paper background lighted by one small flash, and placed a more powerful flash in an umbrella in front and somewhat to his left. (This was before I began using soft boxes.) A reflector on the camera side completed the setup. The camera was an Olympus OM, probably the OM2n, but I don't remember for sure. The lens would have been the Zuiko 85mm f2, my favorite lens at the time.

This was an easy session. Although a man of great accomplishment, Glenn was warm and gracious. Also, I knew him personally, having sung in his choir at First Presbyterian.

As for using 35mm for portraits -- I was doing it in the 1980s and '90s, when 'most every one in my market was using medium format. Around 2000, as I was closing my last studio, another photographer came to look at my space with a view to renting it. He was a dedicated user of medium format and 4x5, and held 35mm in low esteem. Looking at the framed 16x 20 and 20x24 photographs hanging on my studio walls, he would point at one and then another, asking what format I had used. He was somewhat scandalized and almost unable to believe that most of them had been shot on 35mm film. Finally, as he was about to leave, he pointed at one 20x24 portrait and said, "Now you can't tell me that was shot on 35mm!"

"Yes, Doug," I said, as he threw up his hands and left.

Blog Note: I post Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings at alifeinphotography.blogspot.com. I'm trying to build up my readership, so if you're reading this on Facebook and like what I write, would you please consider sharing my posts?

(Photographs copyright David B. Jenkins 2020)

Soli Gloria Deo

To the glory of God alone

A Fond Farewell to Canon

"Faceoff"  Georgia Highway 122, Ware County

A Canon EOS 5D Classic photo from my limited edition book

Georgia: A Backroads Portrait.

This photo is printed as a "double truck" -- 24 inches wide, in the book.

 

 I'm glad to see Canon kicking things up a few notches with their new R5 and R6 releases, but I won't be coming along for the ride. (To mix a few metaphors.) 

I began using Canon in 1993, first their film cameras, and then making the move with them to digital in 2003. After a series of 10Ds, 20Ds, and 30Ds, in 2006 I bought the original 5D (now known as the "Classic," and for good reason) and used it with considerable satisfaction for the next eight years. To me there was something distinctive about the files from that camera. Some have called them "filmlike." This is all subjective, of course, but I guess that's as good an explanation as any. Whatever. The photos look good and that's all that really counts.

I was happy with my Canons. They were totally reliable and the image quality was great, but gradually a pair of bodies and three or four lenses, especially the pro zooms, became a heavier package than I wanted to carry. At six-one and 210 pounds I am not your basic 97-pound weakling, but I just don't like to carry unnecessary weight.

My youngest brother Phil, a superlative bird photographer, recently showed me his brand new Canon R5 full-frame mirrorless body. Sleek and compact, it fit my hand perfectly.  But am I tempted? No. Smaller and lighter than the 5D4, or even the 6D, these new bodies are really nice. They are. But they don't tempt me, because they won't work without lenses and the lenses still weigh a ton. Same thing with the Sonys, A lightweight body doesn't help much unless you're going to carry just one, with a smallish prime lens.

Actually, I bade Canon farewell in 2017 when I switched to the Fuji X system. Small cameras and small lenses, with little or no loss of image quality. But I still have a soft spot for Canon. You can't just wipe out 24 years of good experiences. 

Earlier this year I picked up an X-H1. It's slightly larger and heavier than my other Fuji bodies, and the handling felt a bit strange as first. But I quickly became acclimated, and now it feels just right. The more I use it, the better I like it. This thing is so solid and well-built that I may never need another camera. It offers higher quality and more capability for less money than any camera I've ever heard of. 

As Mike Johnston The Online Photographer said, "It strikes me as a simply amazing camera; virtually everything on it is well thought out and beautifully implemented, and works smoothly and effectively." 

So a belated fond farewell to Canon. My Canons served me well and I wish the company continued success.

Blog Note: I post Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings at alifeinphotography.blogspot.com. I'm trying to build up my readership, so if you're reading this on Facebook and like what I write, would you please consider sharing my posts?

(Photographs copyright David B. Jenkins 2020)

Soli Gloria Deo

To the glory of God alone

 

Two Red Chairs

Red Chairs, Hahira, Georgia

Canon EOS 20D, 24-85mm f3.5-4.5 EF lens

After a number of successful years as a creative director/design editor for several different organizations and publications, Michael Largent and his wife Debbie moved from Atlanta to Chattanooga to be closer to her aging parents. The transition to a much smaller market was a difficult one for Michael, as it was some time before he was able to find a position with a salary appropriate to his very considerable skills. 

Michael had a venerable Honda Accord which had been carefully maintained by a mechanic friend who owned an independent Honda repair shop in Atlanta. About the time Michael moved to Chattanooga, the mechanic friend went on semi-retired status, moved to Hahira (pronounced "Hay-HI-ra") a village just north of Valdosta, Georgia, and bought a home with an oversize garage complete with hydraulic lift in the backyard, just to keep his hand in the game. 

In January, 2007, Michael's Honda developed major engine problems. Since his longtime mechanic friend offered him a deal he couldn't refuse, he asked me if we could load his car on my flatbed trailer and haul it to Hahira. I knew my trailer and Dodge Grand Caravan were up to the job because I routinely used the rig to carry three 1200-pound round bales of hay at a time to feed my cattle, so I said okay. Besides, he was buying the gas, and who could resist a road trip with a good friend? 

The trip south on Interstate 75 was uneventful. We deposited the Honda at the mechanic's new home, which was actually in the country a few miles from Hahira, and while Michael and his friend were talking things over in the backyard I walked around the house and liked the look of two red lawn chairs on the front porch. 

Old Mount Zion Baptist Church

U.S. Highway 41, Dooly County, Georgia

Canon EOS 5D Classic, 24-85mm f3.5-4.5 EF lens

 

Coming home, we drove up U.S. Highway 41, where I made several more photos I liked, including the one of the wide porch in Cordele and this one of Old Mount Zion Baptist Church. These and some others from the trip are included in my limited edition book Georgia: A Backroads Portrait.

The name "Hay-HI-ra" lends itself to puns, at least to my mind, but unfortunately I can no longer use them because my newest granddaughter-in-law, the very lovely Jenn Robinson Jenkins, is from there. 

Who could have imagined it? Lose some, win some.

Blog Note: I post Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings at alifeinphotography.blogspot.com. I'm trying to build up my readership, so if you're reading this on Facebook and like what I write, would you please consider sharing my posts? 

(Photographs copyright David B. Jenkins 2020)

Soli Gloria Deo

To the glory of God alone