July 2007

Sometimes a little window opens up. A small bit of time you know is fleeting and it will be gone if you think about it too long before acting. A few months ago, I had the chance to shoot in a beautiful location, 25 stories above Michigan Avenue.

A model friend of mine and I spent two nights until the sun came up exploring the unfinished space. The welders and overnight construction workers weren't sure what to make of us I imagine, but it probably made their shift a little more interesting.

It's always a challenge shooting against glass. The reflections are the biggest battle. I was covered in black from head to toe, including gloves so you couldn't see my image in the glass. We used one light on her and let the city fill in on it's own.

The buildings along Michigan Avenue are architecturally so inspiring. Pictures taken in the 1920s look so different, with the exception of a few buildings that were there then and still remain to this day, like the one in this image.

A beautiful fleeting moment high above the city.

June 2007

One of my biggest challenges when shooting fashion is to try to create an image that showcases the dress or jewelry or, in this case, fabulous shoes, but do it in a way that still feels like art. It's a hard line to walk sometimes.

I have beautiful light coming in from the west in my studio and depending on the time of year or the time of day, it's better light than I could ever hope to create artificially.

There's just something about shooting without a lot of cords and electricity and just following the sun around my studio that is more freeing than being tethered to something stationary.

It becomes a bit of a dance. Waiting for the right moment as the sun creates amazing shadows that creep across the walls and floor. No rewinding. No going back. Just making the most out of an ever changing moment.

And I think that's what's most rewarding about an image like this. Just the basics. My beautiful model Frances, a camera, a tricycle, and perfect natural light. When all the moments converge together and you know you have the shot, it's when fashion meets art in the most amazing way.

May 2007

Someone once asked me if I pick the photographs for the postcards months in advance. The simple answer is no. Sometimes I do like to use a very recent photo that I've made, and other times it's something years old. But each image I select is usually on my mind in some way or another the week I select it.

This one of a warehouse in Chicago's Fulton Market is from last fall, but for some reason pushed it's way to the head of the class this month. From the very moment I was reviewing images from that shoot I was struck by this image. There's nothing very special about the building. There were certainly more historically important and architecturally interesting buildings I photographed that same night less than a mile away. But like I said, something about this image...

This shoot was part of a personal assignment to go out and shoot Chicago like I would shoot a city, in Europe, for instance. I walk these streets every day and very rarely take the time to look at them through my lens. The warehouse district is just a few blocks from my studio and if I happen to be walking home through there around 3am, it's already starting to come to life. Forklifts, trucks being loaded, all in the darkness. I'm ending my day and they're just starting theirs.

April 2007

It's my birthday month this month. I really enjoy my birthday. Years ago I sort of pioneered the concept of birth week. Meaning that sometimes, one day to celebrate is simply not enough!

I just got off the phone will my great friend Jillian Ann, who is featured on this month's postcard. We made plans for her to come into town for a week so we can make more wonderful photos. We're both in an interesting place creatively at the moment and that usually results in some amazing images. I'm sure this time will be no different.

I've been meeting and working with lots of new models this year and it's been a very rewarding experience artistically. But I've been photographing Jillian for about six years now and every time we work together it's like picking up where we left off.

We've both been through a lot in those six years and it usually finds it's way into our art in one way or another. To look at our work over the years really is an interesting progression. And I guess that's what life is all about. Progression. So as I celebrate my birthweek this April, it's not about what has been, but life as we all progress forward! Raise a glass!

March 2007

As Carrie Bradshaw once said, “It's really hard to walk in a single woman's shoes -- that's why you sometimes need really special shoes!

I’ll admit that I’m probably more comfortable shopping for couture than sitting in a sports bar. I’d rather be at Fashion Week than the Super Bowl. I can tell you when the fall collections debut in Paris, but I’m not entirely sure how many players are on the ice at any given time.

I was never much of a still life photographer. Not so much for the fruit in a bowl. But I find it very interesting to make a compelling photograph of shoes. It’s a challenge to come up with an idea and a composition that feels fresh. I was shooting with one of my new models this year and opening up box after box of shoes until she removed the cover off a pair of Roberto Cavallis and I could see by the look on her face the search was over.

There’s nothing more fun to watch than a woman try on a pair of shoes she loves. And she loved these. The thing I like most about this photo is that the way it’s composed it takes both shoes to get a full picture of one. I like letting part of the subject leave the frame. And since the other shoe fills in the blanks, it’s a photograph that makes you work a little, but not too hard.

And that makes the ”special” even more so.

February 2007

Sometimes a change of perspective allows you to see things in a way you never anticipated. I think that applies to life as well as art.

One thing I've learned over the years is given enough time, everything changes. The trick is to keep your eyes open so you can appreciate the evolution of your perspective.

I know that when I'm getting ready to create an image I choose the vantage point that I think will be the most interesting. More often than not, my instincts are correct. But then I take a moment and walk around my subject and compose an image from a less obvious angle. Whether I'm photographing a body, a building or an entire city, the results can be incredible.

Paris is a beautiful city to photograph. It's been photographed by millions of people since photography was invented. This image was taken on my second trip there, about ten years after I first visited. La Tour Eiffel continues to be breathtaking to me every time I visit regardless of how many times I've looked at it with my own eyes.

It's tempting to go to the top of it and photograph the city below, but when you do that, you lose one of the most incredible elements of the view because you're standing on it. A much better vantage point is from the top of the Arc d'Triomphe, and not only because you can see the Eiffel Tower from it, but because it becomes a hub to the spokes of Parisien streets including Champs Elysées.

That's where I made this image. It's good to look at life from a new spot once in a while.

January 2007

Even though January can be a little cold and gloomy, it's one of my favorite times of year. And I think it's because I get a chance to breathe. All the holiday rushing is behind me and I can begin to simplify my life again.

Smaller things become satisfying again. The effortless. The unembellished. It think it’s easy to get caught up in the complications of life that continue to demand more and more of us. We’re running so fast that we forget to find beauty in the things that we somehow stopped managing to see.

Turn the volume down a notch. Enjoy a moment of quiet. Stare at something beautiful and be late to an appointment.

And so I thought I would pick an image this month that reflected that. Simple but beautiful lines. An understated yet breathtaking shape.

I'm looking forward to creating new work in 2007 that is inspiring in the most true and basic way. I have new collaborators and we've already begun the process of new ideas together knowing we’re going to try things that will fail along the way at times, but we’ll also make some incredible photographs because we’re going to be fearless.

I think we're all anxious to stretch and see where the art muse takes us. There's a level of excitement that I haven't felt with subjects in a while and we're feeling a little bit invincible right now.

December 2006

“I want you to take your camera and go shoot Chicago like you’d shoot some place in Europe,” said my friend Ryan. “You live in a beautiful city.”

She was right. I have traveled all over the world making photographs, but for some reason, I hadn’t focused my camera on my own city.

I went on a five mile walk and traversed familiar paths as well as deserted train yards and the desolate warehouse district near my studio. I didn't come back until my memory card was full. It felt good - like my senses do when I'm traveling in a new city.

I started taking my camera with me everywhere and a few days later I made this photograph. It’s both uncertain yet hopeful. Like life is sometimes. You can see my journey through my city at my new online photo store.

2006 has been such a good year that my postcard mailing list has grown larger than is cost effective for me to keep it free. So I’m switching to email for the monthly postcards. But for those who still prefer to get a physical postcard in the mail, you can buy 12 months of signed postcards for $25 in the USA or $35 internationally. And if you missed any this year, you can also buy a complete set of signed 2006 postcards while supplies last.

-Thanks to everyone who made 2006 a great year!

November 2006
I was talking to Ken, a painter friend of mine the other day. Like me, a great deal of his work features women as his subjects. I told him I knew it was probably a case of the grass being greener, but I envied that he could create his art without having to find an actual physical subject.

If he woke up in the middle of the night with an idea, he could paint it. Unless I happen to have a model sleeping on my sofa that evening, I don't usually have that luxury, and anyway, I find models hate to be woken up in the middle of the night for a photoshoot.

Ken thought for a minute before answering. He slowly nodded and said that yes, he could see how that would be frustrating to not be able to create a photograph whenever I wanted.

Then he continued. "Yes, but sometimes I wish I could make art in the click second of a shutter," he said.

He was right. Often, it takes Ken weeks or even months to finish a painting. So I guess we both have our patch of greener grass. Being an artist can be a very frustrating during the times when I have no one to photograph, yet it's the thing that brings me the most joy in my life when I am shooting.

I guess that's why I appreciate models like Jillian Ann, who spends quite a fair number of nights on my sofa. And luckily we're usually so tired from marathon shooting during the day, I haven't yet had to wake her up in the middle of the night with an idea for a 3am shoot.

October 2006

Life rushes by. There never seems to be enough time in the day. I think I've come to realize that even if you keep rushing, there is still never enough time to get everything done.

And perhaps in the rushing to complete everything, we miss so much more. Every time I take a trip to Europe, I try to bring a little bit of it back with me and make it a part of my life.

This image was taken in 1993 during my first visit across the Atlantic to Italy. I was still very new at experiencing a new country and learning to savor rather than rush. As I was trying to find an interesting composition of the Colosseum, I decided to try to include three elements that seemed to be pervasive everywhere in Rome.

The Colosseum is breathtaking in the mere fact that is is still standing two thousand years after it was built. History. The second element is the high speed chaos that are the Roman streets. Orchestrated reckless speed. And the third, innovation.

While the sewer grate in the foreground of the image isn't ancient, it's still a reminder of how the Romans took control over water flow in Italy. I had to get on my stomach to make this image, and I guess that's one way to prevent rushing and see the world from a different vantage point.

September 2006

"Ooh look at those brooding clouds! Let's go up to the roof!"

Melissa was in town last month so we could make some new photographs and we were trying to figure out what to do with a new pair of wings I had bought a few weeks earlier. She pulled a beautiful antique corset out of her travel bag, and we headed up.

Melissa's fearlessness always amazes me. I think our best pictures come when both of us just throw caution to the wind and keep moving forward. It's when we're right out on the edge, literally and figuratively that we create our best work together.

We tried all kinds of things that day, hanging, dangling, balancing, standing and... sitting. But even when Melissa is sitting, she's doing so much more than that.

She has the uncanny ability to convey all kinds of emotions even when you can't see her face, like in this image. I can't see her expression, but somehow I can imagine it. Is this creature guarding what she sees below or is she sad at what she feels coming from thousands of broken hearts? Is she about to unleash her wrath, or is she enjoying the quiet beauty of a thousand heartbeats?

I guess it's whatever you see reflected in yourself. As for me, Melissa is one of the most positive and energizing people I know, so whatever she's thinking, it's warm and peaceful. It's always an incredible experience creating with her. This time was no exception.

August 2006

Sometimes life can be so overwhelming that it's easy to forget to scale down once in a while. I know I can become paralyzed when I have too much in front of me wanting my attention. But I find if I can put aside most of the noise and concentrate on one thing at a time, well, life becomes more manageable.

When I walked into the Cimetière de Montmarte in Paris last month, it was an overwhelming visual. I've visited cemeteries all over the world, but this one was unique on so many levels. The density of the graves and crypts was stunning, almost stacked on top of each other.

It was built in the hollow of an old quarry in the early 19th century. Since then it has become the final resting place of a large number of famous artists, filmmakers, dancers, writers and composers who lived and worked in the Montmartre arrondissement of Paris.

I made of few wide photographs of the beautiful chaos, before becoming unsatisfied with what I was finding photographically. I began to look for details as I walked in front of the history before me.

Poking out from one of the crypt doors was a small bunch of flowers that looked like it could have been there for a hundred years. I made several photographs of it from various distances, but my favorite was right up close. So close that it's impossible to tell the context of the flowers, but that's okay.

Sometimes life, as well as death, is all in the details.

July 2006

Me and my shadows. Every once in a while I spot a trend in my photography. Something that keeps appearing in my work. And it's usually not something I'm trying to do on purpose.

A while back I noticed that I was shooting a lot of travel photography that included bicycles, either being ridden or simply stationary in the frame. Now it's shadows. I think it's really interesting to create something in layers.

I like the idea of your eye choosing between paying attention to the foreground image or the background image. Sometimes the shadow reveals more about the subject than the foreground. I really enjoy that interplay.

This is an image of Jillian Ann from a few months ago. We were chasing the sun across my studio and just as it was setting we decided to quickly try one more thing.

She threw on the crinoline and some ballet shoes and adjusted her make-up and I began timing the sun and determined we had about ten minutes before it would be gone. I didn’t really have time to explain what we were doing or we would have lost the light. But Jillian managed to decipher my fragmented explanation and found the moment.

We shot as much as we could in the few minutes and the sunlight through my windows managed to linger long enough for us to find this photograph. Merci au soleil !

June 2006

"I want to take some pictures in a cemetery."

I had just met Melissa a few months earlier at one of my gallery exhibitions and we decided we both liked each other's work and we began a collaboration that continues to this day. I wasn't quite sure what we would do exactly, but Melissa and I had developed an artistic chemistry that was already pretty formidable.

I put it off for a while trying to figure out what kind of images to create, but she kept poking at me to do it before the weather turned cold. So one early overcast Sunday morning in September, we agreed to meet at one of Chicago's most historic cemeteries and create something unusual.

Since it was open to the public we tried to be considerate of the people paying their respects around us. The cemetery is so wooded and enormous that it wasn't hard to be out of site of pretty much anyone who was there. But every once in a while a car would catch us by surprise and we would freeze hoping that Melissa would just blend into the surroundings. I think it worked.

This photograph was quite difficult to make. Melissa had to squeeze through a hole in the statue just a little bigger than her head. When I was getting ready to make the exposure, I had visions of trying to explain to the fire department what we were doing as they tried to extract her. But she got out as easily as she got in and the resulting photograph is one of my absolute favorites I've ever made.

May 2006

Sometimes you get a lot of chances to succeed, and sometimes you only get one. The state of photography is going through an amazing evolution, but I prefer to mix the old with the new whenever I can.

Last year in Paris, I brought my digital camera, but I also brought a trusted Nikon F3 film camera and Hasselblad 500C that have traveled all over the world with me. It just seems more fitting sometimes to photograph historic places with equally venerable cameras.

We were exploring the beautiful Opéra de Paris and I reached into my bag to grab the F3, the one camera I had chosen to take with me that day, when I realized I was on my last picture on that roll of film, and it was at that moment that I also realized I had left the rest of my film back at the hotel.

One chance.

We had only made it just a little past the lobby and I had to decide whether to shoot what was in front of me or wait and see if there was a better picture further inside. I chose to make the photograph you see here.

It’s one of my favorites of the trip. I don’t think it would have been as amazing as a digital photograph. Something about the light and and the long film exposure.

Je voyagerai à Paris encore cet été. J'attends avec intérêt de faire les photographies qui seront inspirées par cette belle ville. C'est une ville qui apprécie l'art et les artistes davantage que n'importe quel endroit que j'ai jamais éprouvé.

April 2006

"Are you sure you want to get on a plane this week in New York," I asked?

It was four days after the Twin Towers fell and Jillian Ann and I had been trying to set up our first shoot for about six months. She said yes, that she needed to get out of the city for a while.

I'm glad she did because that first photoshoot and the many that followed over the years cemented what another friend of mine calls a very symbiotic relationship. Jillian challenges me, both photographically and personally. I'm healthier because of her, body and mind.

When she is in front of my camera we make amazing images. And when I put the camera down she teaches me even more about making sure I’ll be around for years to come.

This month marks the one year anniversary of my new studio and home. In the last year many incredible things have happened. I'm a much healthier person than when I unlocked the door for the first time.

I've had some wonderful photoshoots here and this is from one of the first ones not long after I moved in. The building was having construction being done and was covered with scaffolding. I'm sure my building neighbors were irritated by it, but I loved the patterns it made on my walls when the sun was just right.

Good light, interesting shadows and my beautiful friend Jillian Ann. Happy anniversary!

March 2006

Don't forget to look. It's something I try to remind myself as I'm walking down the same streets every day, over the same bridges, past the same old doorways, loading docks, monuments and parks... and even elevators.

There are many things I love about my building, but one of the first things I noticed, even back on my first visit with my realtor was the elevator. Definitely not one of those wood veneer or generic shiny reflective surface designs. No, this one had a bit of character.

I'm in it several times every day and recently I had started to ride it up and down from the first floor to the roof, just to spend a little more time in it, studying the light and the space. I filed all of those thoughts in the back of my head.

Then one evening when I was photographing Morgan, a model friend of mine, we decided to explore the space of the building. It was late at night and we explored the hallways and staircases... and the elevator.

I didn't want to tie it up since it's the only one in the building, so I set up a small light on my floor pointing into it through the doors, and we called for it, Morgan got in and we shot for about 30 seconds. Then she would get out, we'd let the doors close, wait a few seconds to see if anyone had called it, and then she'd jump back in and we'd shoot for another 30 seconds.

We repeated this for a few minutes. This was one of the resulting images. It was fun to find a new space to shoot in even if it was for just a few minutes, and almost comical to keep hopping in and out of the elevator so we wouldn't leave anyone stranded.

February 2006

After a 5 year absence, I’m happy to announce that I’ll be exhibiting photography of some of my naked people at: Echo Gallery 1529 W. Chicago Ave. in Chicago.

Opening reception Saturday February 18th from 8 - midnight Second reception Saturday February 25th from 8 - midnight Exhibit runs through May 18th 2006
312-666-0858.

I’m featuring two themes at this exhibition. The first is a series of ethereal Underwater photographs I shot in an indoor pool. Using longer than usual exposures, combined with flash lighting I was able to create images that to me seem to have a lyrical and graceful quality about them.

The second series is called Love and Ecstasy and I’ll just let that name be the description of it to peak your curiosity. The photograph on this postcard is from that series.

I’m very pleased to be showing work in public after all this time. I’ve spent the last five years shooting and learning and growing as an artist and perhaps those of you who have been following my work for the last ten years or longer will see something new but also a touch of the familiar.

Hope to see you there.

January 2006

11 years earlier I was faced with the same dilemma. How do you take an original photograph of one of the most photographed objects in the world?

This time however, my friend Morgan and I were simply giddy with excitement, having just finished a most glorious dinner at Mandalay Ray on Opera Night. It was nearing 2am as we made our way in the general direction of the Eiffel Tower, meandering down small side streets and catching glimpses of it over a building or treetop.

By the time we reached the Seine, Morgan had given up on her high heels and we ran across several lanes of traffic on Avenue de New York, propping ourselves on top of one of the short walls to steady ourselves enough to make the long exposures necessary since it was the middle of the night.

We would stop and shoot, and move a little closer, and stop and shoot again, until we were finally directly below it. Then suddenly, the lights turned off. And the beautiful glowing tower was at once quiet.

I know the lights weren’t really making a sound, but the night sky was suddenly less full of excitement. It was still. We had closed the Eiffel Tower.