This text dissects basketball’s Triangle offense as if it were Galileo’s treatise on celestial bodies.
Gut punch. An animated interactive map of the history of the Atlantic slave trade.
Imagine an all-American kid in his little league uniform. What color is his skin?
Click Here to read, “Black and Tan,” an essay on Race in America
Well, maybe not the attitude. But in testing out the new Leicas, there’s been some learning. The lenses have much less distortion, and so are less forgiving to a shooter who rarely holds the camera perfectly level.
Enhanced clarity in communication happens, in part, through this sort of technical clarity. One hopes. And if not, well, playing with new toys is always fun.
Having fun with on the subway this morning. A couple more in this series on Instagram.
This picture has a kissing cousin from a couple years back.
The photos in the other post were all shot on a phone, these were shot on a camera. Though the distinction between the two capture methods continues to shrink, there is a difference in the kinds of images you end up shooting. When shooting with a camera that weighs several pounds, the intent of each frame tends to be more clear. Shots on phones can sometimes have a “right there” quality — the phones themselves fit into spaces that larger cameras can’t, the subjects tend to be less intimidated.
Whatever the intent, these shots from paradise ended up looking like they belong on the wallpaper of your computer desktop. And that’s what I use them for.
Three shots from a recent trip to paradise. The first scene struck me as hopper-esque, even before I shot it. Beautiful sunsets and rainbows were par for the course as well.
Here is an essay I wrote on the intersection of race and commerce in the recent film Furious 7: Tears in Dom’s World.
Having admired Kehinde Wiley’s work from the web for so many years it was a revelation to see the canvases in person. They were larger than I expected them to be. Majestic. Looking at a canvas closely you can see technique. And there’s a moment I love as you back away from a painting that technique turns into the picture itself. With Wiley’s pieces I found myself backing up further. The other viewers themselves — often white — became a part of viewing Wiley’s black and brown subjects. I wonder if this is on purpose.
My friend Zoran came out on one of the coldest nights of the year to capture these images of us working. I’ll thaw out in a couple weeks.
The twin grand jury decisions not to indict police officers for the deaths of Mike Brown and Eric Garner roiled the city in November and December. Against this backdrop I began production on my first feature film, a lifelong dream. But if filmmaking is the act of creating a dream world, then raising one’s own voice amid a chorus/cacophony of others in protest felt both more real than anything else, and movie-like.
The footage above is from a protest that took place two weeks before we began shooting. Climbing the barrier to the FDR, stopping traffic both ways, then proceeding to “take” the Brooklyn bridge was surreal — the car horns blaring (some in support, some in opposition) were felt as much as heard. I took the photo below after a long week of production. Having missed a major protest in the city while filming that day, I was content to begin a weekend of relaxation. But from the apartment we heard helicopters, then distant chants. One branch of the march had reached our neighborhood and, well, history waits for no one.
The news that two NYPD officers had been killed in Brooklyn rippled through our film set another day — our location was not a ten minute drive from where it happened. Between takes small groups could be heard discussing the implications. But my mind was on the task at hand — we were filming a party scene that night, one of the most difficult on our schedule.
Our production finishes soon. It is a new year, but the jumble of emotions that is this moment in New York continues. The camera is one tool that sees both dreams and reality. I am learning to juggle the two.