Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘Canon 18-55mm’

Would you feel insecure and self-conscious if you sat down in a crowded public place and started to sketch? Most adults would feel that way. It would take a really good instructor to get them so excited about drawing that their inhibitions disappeared and they could lose themselves in a few blissful moments of creation—probably like a child feels when creating art. Romain, my instructor for two sketching tours in Paris, was that kind of instructor.

Romain Olivier Thieulot is an energetic and engaging 29 year old artist in Paris. He teaches art at the University of Paris and has his own art studio. As with most artists, though, money is tight, so he conducts sketching tours as a kind of “side hustle” to earn some additional money. Although he is quite young, he is devoted to a traditional style of art rather than digital art. That, he believes, is one of the reasons why he was chosen to teach at the University of Paris. He did not go into a lot of details about the curriculum at the university, but he described the style that is taught there as “academic,” and it sound like it is a regimented system with very specific rules.

Fortunately, that is not the approach that he used with us. He coached and encouraged us as we moved from place to place with our sketchbooks and collapsible stool, all the while providing us with instructions on the major principles of drawing like composition, perspective, and showing emphasis through detail and value (degree of lightness and darkness). Importantly, I think, he left a lot of room for individual expression. Before we started to draw our first building, I remember, he told us that we could choose to draw it any way that we wanted, sketching, for example, the entire building or only a part of it. What was important, he said was to have a clear idea of what we saw as the major area of interest, because the first lines we put on the paper would dictate important considerations like scale and composition.

Romain had carefully chosen the locations and routes of these tours, one in Montmartre and one in the Left Bank area beginning at Notre Dame, in order to provide us with fascinating bits of information along the way on the history of the city of Paris and in particular on its rich artistic and architectural history. (Architecture is one of Romain’s areas of expertise and he was able to explain many aspects of the architecture that makes Paris so distinctive.)

One of the places that Romain highlighted was Le Consulat, a historic coffee house that was frequented by many of the artists, writers and painters that flocked to the Montmartre area in the 19th century, including Picasso, Sisley, Van Gogh, Toulouse-Lautrec, and Monet. In the second photo below, Romain was showing us a postcard-sized copy of a drawing that he had done of the café. If you click on the photo you can get a real appreciation of the amount of detail in his drawing. I don’t recall long he spent on that particular drawing, but I remember him showing us similar ones on which he had spent forty or fifty hours of work.

One of the fun little bonuses of Romain’s sketching tours was the quick sketch he would do of the individuals in our little group as we were at work. The third photo shows the three members of our group in Montmartre—I think it is pretty obvious which one is me.

During one conversation that I had with Romain, he shared some insights into the world of a professional artist in Paris. As we we passing a series of galleries in the Left Bank area, he noted how difficult it was to get your work into a gallery. Even if you were fortunate enough to get your worked displayed, there were so many fees involved that the artist was often left with very little money when a piece of art was actually sold.

Romain seemed to be much more content to display his work at his own studio/workshop, Atelier Thieulot in the 15th arrondissement in Paris. You can check out his studio on his website and get a better idea of his workplace and of his work. The website is in French, but even if you can’t read the details, you can’t help but be impressed by the number of exhibitions in which he has participated and the awards he has received. If you click on the tab, “Mes Créations,” you can look at his work divided into categories such as architecture, oil painting, drawing, and design. One of my favorite ways to view his work, though, is to click on the “E-boutique” tab and if you do, you too will look with amazement at his detailed drawings.

I saw some wonderful art and architecture in Paris, but some of my favorite moments in the city were spent in creating my own art during the sketching tours with Romain as our guide, coach, and instructor. I was intrigued that the tour is titled “Être artiste à Montmartre,” which means “To be an artist in Montmartre.” We were not pretending to be artists as we toiled over our sketchbooks—Romain made us feel like we really were artists.

We have become friends on Facebook, have exchanged texts since concluding the course, and he is also now following this blog. Paris is wonderful, of course, but it really is the people you meet that make a trip memorable. Thanks, Romain.

Romain Thieulot

Romain Thieulot

Romain Thieulot

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

Read Full Post »

I spent some of my favorite moments during my recent trip to Paris exploring again the Rodin Museum and its wonderful outdoor sculpture garden. There is something really special about seeing sculptures outdoors, where the time of day, the season, and the weather can make them come alive in new ways that are not possible in the controlled confines of an indoor museum.

When I travelled to Washington D.C. on Saturday, one of my goals was to see some of the Rodin sculptures that I recalled were in the Hirshhorn Sculpture Garden. The garden is sunken slightly below ground level and as I descended I immediately spotted the large sculpture known as The Burghers of Calais (Les Bourgeois de Calais). This multi-person sculpture is very well-known and I had seen another casting of it recently in Paris. (According to French law, there can be only 12 original castings of a Rodin sculpture, and both the one that I saw in Paris and this one are original castings.)

I couldn’t remember the story behind the sculpture, so I turned to Wikipedia. From a factual perspective, the sculpture commemorates an event during the Hundred Years’ War, when Calais, a French port on the English Channel, was under siege by the English for about eleven months. As you study the faces and the postures of the men in the sculpture, you realize that it is much more than a monument to a historical event.

According to Wikipedia, “Edward, the king of England, offered to spare the people of the city if six of its leaders would surrender themselves to him, presumably to be executed. Edward demanded that they walk out wearing nooses around their necks, and carrying the keys to the city and the castle. One of the wealthiest of the town leaders, Eustache de Saint Pierre, volunteered first and five other burghers joined with him. Saint Pierre led this envoy of volunteers to the city gates. It was this moment, and the poignant mix of defeat, heroic self-sacrifice, and willingness to face imminent death that Rodin captured in his sculpture.”

The sculpture in the second image is known simply as The Walking Man (L’homme qui marche). I am amazed at Rodin’s skill in capturing a sense of movement in such an incomplete figure. For me, it’s like a three-dimensional sketch that has come to life.

The final Rodin sculpture that I wanted to highlight is known as the Crouching Woman (also known as Lust). I find the pose of the woman to be intriguing and the Rodin Museum, which has a terracotta version of the sculpture, asserts that it “looks like a compact block with limbs gathered together and pressed tightly against the torso. This block-like sculpture reflects Rodin’s aesthetic analysis of Michelangelo’s sculpture: it is a work that, to quote the great Italian artist, could roll down a hill without breaking.”

These Rodin sculptures remind me of Paris, but in a greater sense, they highlight my heightened appreciation for the work of artists. Sometimes artists capture beauty and other times they create beauty (and often they do both at the same time). What is beauty? That will have to be the subject of a separate blog someday.

 

Burghers of Calais

The Walking Man

Crouching Woman

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

Read Full Post »

Blogging helps to create communities. We are exposed to people from all around the world, some of whom may be like us, but many of whom are quite different. What is critical is that we interact with each other—we “like” and comment on the postings of others. All of this takes place in a virtual world and we develop relationships in that world. Wouldn’t it be cool if we could meet each other in person, in “real” life?

It may sound like the story line for a corny Hollywood movie, but an American photographer recently met an Irish poet in Paris, thanks to the efforts of a New Zealand blogger who had much earlier highlighted their respective blogs. As you might suspect, I am that photographer; Damien Donnelly of deuxiemepeaupoetry.com is that poet; and Liz Cowburn of exploringcolour.wordpress.com is that blogger.

Several days ago I said a few words about Damien when I re-blogged one of his postings with photos from our time inside the Grand Palais in Paris, so his name may sound familiar. When I first made plans to visit Paris, I thought there might be a chance that I could meet Damien, but what I did not realize at that time was that he was preparing to leave Paris. As it turned out, I made it to Paris before he left.

We agreed to meet for lunch. Have you ever met someone in person that you met initially on-line? Did you worry that the on-line “persona” would not mesh with reality? I really encourage you to read Damien’s poetry, which I previously characterized as “personal and universal,” and I can reassure you that he is just as thoughtful, introspective, and engaging in person. During our lunch together, we shared deeply details about our personal lives and our connection with Paris.

One of the things I remember best was Damien’s description of how long it took to reach the point when he felt comfortable telling people that he was a “poet.” You see, like many creative people, Damien has a full-time job and crafts his verbal art in the remaining time. Gradually, though, writing appears to have taken on a greater role in his life. As of a few day ago, he no longer has that full-time job and in a few more days he is leaving Paris.

Is he calling it quits? As the French would say, “au contraire”—Damien is in fact returning to Ireland to pursue a dream. You can read more about it in the “About Me” section of his website, but the essence is that he plans to find and renovate a property in Ireland that will serve as a writers’ retreat and bed-and-breakfast. Damien is also working on a novel and I believe more of his poetry is about to be published.

Why am I writing all of this? First of all, I want to let you all know how wonderful it is when the virtual world and the real world overlap—meeting and spending time with Damien was one of the highlights of my three weeks in Paris. I hope to have the chance to meet more of my readers whom I consider friends. Maybe New Zealand?

Secondly, I am personally inspired by someone who decides at age 44 to go all in on his passion, who has the courage to radically change the course of his life in pursuit of his creative vision.

Let me end with the words of a short poem that Damien posted a few days ago, part of a series of poems as he prepares to leave Paris. This one was entitled “Bookends; Timing is Everything.” (In order to get the full impact of the poem, you should click on the name of the poem which is a link to the original posting with Damien’s accompanying photograph and brief words of explanation.)

“Coming in

is easy.

Learning when to leave

is an art

not easily understood.”

Damien Donnelly

Damien in the Grand Palais

 

Damien Donnelly

Damien in the Grand Palais

 

Damien and Me

Damien and me after lunch.

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

 

 

 

Read Full Post »

It is finally beginning to hit me that my stay here in Paris will soon be coming to a close. Will this shot from yesterday evening be my final image of Notre Dame de Paris in the fading light of the day? Perhaps I will have a chance again tomorrow.

We’ll always have Paris.

Notre Dame de Paris

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

Read Full Post »

Yesterday, 23 November, I stumbled upon a very large and vocal march through the streets of Paris that was directed against domestic violence towards women. What really struck me were the handmade signs carried by many men and women of all ages expressing anger and sorrow at the lack of action in this area by the French government, which many see as deliberately turning a blind eye to the problem.

These are images straight out of my camera, with no attempts made to make them pretty. I have done a loose translation in the captions of the main signs that you see in each photo. If you want more details about the march, check out this BBC report.

Male executioner (Note: In French this word combination sounds a lot like Marlboro). To be born a woman kills. (Note: the wording of this warning matches that on cigarette packaging.)

Sexism kills. Feminism saves.

 

We teach our boys about consent and what happens if the state does it? No is no!

 

Red smoke. (I am not sure of the symbolism here.)

My body belongs to me. In France 2019 there is a rape every 7 minutes. We are all concerned.

Not a single one more. The state is not protecting us.

 

Four out of five handicapped women are victims of violence. The state is complicit.

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

Read Full Post »

It is Saturday night in the Paris, the City of Light. I took this photo a short while ago as I was crossing one of the many bridges over the Seine River.

I hope that your Saturday night is as colorful and filled with light.

city of light

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

Read Full Post »

When I was a college student majoring in French literature, which brought me to Paris for an academic year from 1974-1975, we spent quite some time studying the works of René Descartes, the French philosopher, mathematician, and scientist. Most of us are familiar with the quote “I think, therefore I am,” (“je pense, donc je suis” in French), but I was surprised to learn that a better English translation might well be “I am thinking, therefore I am.” Why? Those who deeply study Descartes’ work believe that Descartes was trying to express the idea that it is in the very act of thinking that he proved his own existence. I admit this is pretty esoteric and geeky, but it is part of my memories of Paris.

Yesterday I visited the Musée Rodin that is housed in a beautiful building, the Hôtel Biron, where noted French sculptor Auguste Rodin worked and lived. The French government bought the building in 1911 and was going to evict Rodin, but he made a deal with the government, pledging to donate his works to the state if it turned the building into a museum and let him remain their for the remaining years of this life. The museum and its surrounding gardens house and amazing collection of Rodin’s works, along with paintings by Monet, Van Gogh, and other artists.

I consider myself to be a thinking man and Rodin’s famous statue, Le Penseur (The Thinker) has always been my favorites. Yes, the statue has been overly commercialized and there are multiple castings of the statue throughout the world. It is difficult to say which one is “the” original, since a smaller version of the stature was designed to be part of Rodin’s large work Gates of Hell. Emplaced outdoors in Rodin’s world, surrounded by countless other works by Rodin, the version of statue at the Musée Rodin feels authentic—it is the one that was donated to the people of Paris in 1906.

One of the coolest thing for me about sculpture, especially when it is outdoors, is that you can examine it from multiple angles and the feel of the statue changes as the light and weather changes. I spent a lot of time with The Thinker yesterday and even spent some time seated on a bench with two others as the three of us silently worked on our sketches of the well-known sculpture. As the final photo shows, my skills have not yet improved, but my confidence has definitely increased. I did not feel ill at ease or self-conscious when sketching.

Two things really struck me about Rodin’s work as I was sketching. The first impression was a sense of wonder and amazement at Rodin’s ability to capture the human physiques. My rudimentary drawing skills kept rendering the body with straight lines— ended up with skinny arms and legs—while Rodin expressed so well the muscular curves of the men he sculpted. Secondly, I concluded that it is near impossible to sketch hands and feet, especially when they are twisted or contorted. There are just two many moving parts in hands and feet, which makes knees and elbows seem easy by comparison.

The Thinker in Paris

The Thinker in Paris

The Thinker in Paris

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

 

Read Full Post »

Yesterday I went on a three hour sketching tour, which turned out to be awesome once I got over some initial inhibitions over doing art in the public eye. Our instructor/guide, who is a young professor of art in the University of Paris, led us on a mini tour of Montmartre, sharing liberally fascinating tidbits of information on the history of this area of Paris and its role for the artistic movements in Paris. Along the way, he also shared his personal history as an artist and his own views on art.

Before we began, he issued us a collapsible stool, a sketchbook, and a little pouch of materials. At preselected points along the way, we stopped, opened the stools (sometimes literally in the middle of a sidewalk) and had a specific, timed assignment. There were only three of us in our little class, so we got plenty of attention as we sketched, though Romain’s comments were mostly in the nature of gentle questions.

Our first assignment began when we stopped in front of a beautiful pink house, known as La Maison Rose. This building, which was probably built in the 1850’s has a fascinating history and was immortalized by several painters. If you are interested in the history of the house, here is a link to a really engaging article on the blog at parisnicevacations.net that initially appeared in French in Montmartre-Addict. Of note, there is a very interesting connection with Picasso and one of his former models.

As the clocked ticked down inexorably, the blank page challenged me, defying me to create something with my hands, my mind, and my three graphite pencils of different hardnesses. Romain, our instructor, emphasize the importance of the first line, the line that would set the parameters for the entire sketch. I wish I could describe for you what was going on in my head as I worked on this first sketch, but it passed in a blur. I know that people passed and watched us, but I was so focused on my work that I paid them no attention.

We had 20 minutes for the sketch, if I recall correctly, which sounds like a lot of time, but it was so easy to get distracted in the details of the building. The second photo below shows the results of our initial sketches. Can you guess which one is mine?  While we were sketching La Maison Rose, Romain watched us and even did his own little sketch of us sketching. It’s not hard to pick me out in that sketch, shown in the third photo below, considering that I was the only guy in the group of budding artists.

We did some other exercises, including sketching in pen, and I might do another posting about that. I was pretty energized by the experience and as the evening wore down, decided to try a more deliberate sketch of La Maison Rose, using my photo as reference material, and the result is shown in the final photo. The lines are a little wonky and I didn’t really leave enough white space on the page for the building to breathe, but I like it a bit better than my initial sketch en plein ail, though I must confess that I spent more time on it, used an eraser more, and was a little tired when I completed it at 2:00 in the morning.

In case you wondered, my initial sketch was in the sketchbook on the left. My German colleague, whose sketch book was in the middle, seemed to be the most experienced of the three of us and has a somewhat more refined style. My Australian colleague, who was originally from South Africa, tended to sketch more lightly and delicately, and it’s a little hard to see her work in the photo. We really were not in competition, so it was easy to share our results with each other. What amazed me the most, perhaps, is that throughout the entire class, our basic “styles” and approaches did not change much.

My sketches tended to be darker, bolder, and a bit chunky than the others—I think I am ok with that, though I obviously do need to a lot of work on actual drawing techniques. I have signed up for a shorter sketching tour with Romain on this coming Sunday that begins outside of Notre Dame and I hope to get in a little practice before then.

La Maison Rose in Monmartre

Sketching in Montmartre

Sketching in Montmartre

Sketching in Montmartre

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

 

Read Full Post »

Montmartre is the small hill with the highest point in Paris where the stunningly white Sacré-Cœur basilica is located. Previously I have posted panoramic views of the city that I took from the stairs of Sacré-Cœur.

How do you get there? There is a little funicular train that will take you up the hill, but I have always elected to walk. Multiple sets of stairs approach the summit from different directions and I have climbed up a lot of different ones. Some of them are decorated with colorful patterns, but all are steep and long.

Montmartre has become one of my favorite locations to visit and I think I have walked there every other day on average. Here are images of a few of the sets of steps that I have successfully encounterd over that period of time.

stairs to Montmartre

Stairs to Montmartre

stairs to Montmartre

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

Read Full Post »

Place du Tertre, a small square in the center of Montmartre, is a special place where artists of all varieties set up their easels every day and work in the open air, surrounded by the milling public. Many of them are portrait artists, who gently try to convince you to sit for a portrait.

I watched several of those artists at work and they are amazing talented, creating true-to-life drawings over an extended period of time. This is in sharp contrast with the large number of quick sketch “artists” who aggressively pursue you in the streets, trying to convince you to stand for a “portrait,” which is often a mere caricature that barely resembles the subject.

A number of other artists worked on small canvases with oil paint using palette knives. I had the impression that some of them were working in almost assembly line fashion, cranking out the same limited number of scenes of Paris suitable for souvenirs.

After circling the square, I returned to the only artist who was working in watercolor. He would sketch out his detailed paintings in India ink using a pointed fragment of bamboo as a drawing instrument. After the ink had dried, he would carefully apply multiple washes of color. Some of you know that I have dabbled with watercolor and I was absolutely enthralled as I watched this artist at work, mixing and applying the colors from a watercolor set not all that different than ones that I have.

Watercolor painting is time-consuming and unforgiving—you really cannot hide your mistakes. Supplies are relatively expensive, compared to oil and acrylic painting. Why would an artist choose this style of painting? It does not seem like an economically rational decision.

I did not want to interfere with the artist’s efforts, so I watched from a respectful distance and discreetly took a few photos. When he reached a certain stage when he needed to let a layer dry, he stopped for a smoke break. As he lit up an unfiltered, hand-rolled cigarette, I started to talk with him.

At first I asked him about the materials that he uses. He paints on high quality Arches 100% cotton paper, using a mix of artist quality paints from Winsor and Newton, Sennelier, and others. For brushes, he uses several rather large natural hair brushes. He pointed to one of them and noted that it had cost over 80 Euros (about $100), but he had used it for close to ten years.

He said that he had been painting from a young age and preferred painting in public like this and had done so for almost 40 years. Based on some comments he made about other painters, he seemed to reject the almost elitist idea of painting in seclusion in a studio, with works hanging in high-priced galleries.

He obviously loved what he was doing, but somewhat wistfully talked of eventually retiring to a place in the country. As he puffed on the final fragments of his cigarette, he announced that it was time to get back to work. I thanked him for talking with me—we spoke exclusively in French—and sharing his experience and perceptions. He graciously agreed to let me take a quick portrait shot and that photo, the last one below, is one of my favorite remembrances of this trip to Paris.

The first photo below gives you an overall sense of the environment at the Place du Tertre. Note the assemblage of easels and the passing tourists and compare that with the focus of the painter, who appears to be in his own little world.

The second image provides a slightly closer view of the work in progress. Note the large size of the brush that he is using and the initial delicate washes of color that he has applied.

The final shot, as noted above, is a quick portrait of the artist. It’s a candid pose from where he was standing. I really like the way that it turned out, capturing in part the unique personality of this awesome artist that I was happy to encounter, a man content with doing what he loves outdoors in all kinds of weather (except, he noted, in the rain, which obviously is bad for watercolor paintings).

Painter at Place du Tertre

Painter at Place du Tertre

Painter at Place du Tertre

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

Read Full Post »

I did not plan to make birding a focus of my trip to Paris, but I can’t help but take shots of them when the occasion arises. I’ve seen lots of gulls and pigeons, some mallards, and a few swans, but so far have not gotten close enough to get shots of them—I have relatively modest telephoto lenses with me on this trip.

The first image shows a crow, what I think is a Carrion Crow (Corvus corone). I am not at all certain about identifying birds in Europe, so please correct me if I am wrong. I photographed this crow and the other birds featured in this posting in the Tuileries Garden, which is located in between the Louvre and the Place de la Concorde.

The second bird is a Common Moorhen (Gallinula chloropus). Several other moorhens were swimming about in a small pond, but this one decided to boldly look for food. Perhaps it was looking for a handout from tourists.

The final birds are Common Starlings (Sturnus vulgaris). This small flock of starlings flew about from place to place. I did not detect any signals, but all of them seemed to take off and land at the same time.

If you have followed my blog for any length of time, you know that I like to photograph anything that catches my eye. Even in a place like Paris, where there appear to be famous landmarks in every direction I turn, I am just as likely to be spending time photographing these modest little birds. I think it would make me a maddening travel companion for a more normal person.

Carrion Crow

Common Moorhen

Common Starlings

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

 

Read Full Post »

I got up early yesterday morning, hoping to get some photos of the sun rising over Paris from the steps of the Sacre Coeur Basilica, the highest point in Paris. Unfortunately it rained on me the entire walk there and while I was there. The sun did not cooperate and it is tough to take photos in limited light when it is windy and rainy.

I hope to try again when the weather is better. In the meantime, here is a composite panoramic shot that I took earlier in the week that gives you an idea of the view from that spot. I am curious to see how WordPress handles a panorama shot and encourage you to click on the image to see some of the amazing details.

I took a series of eight shots and stitched them together with the Photo Merge feature of Photoshop. Only later did I come to realize that I might had been able to achieve a similar feature with my new iPhone, but I am still so unaccustomed to it that I have not even used the phone (or camera in it) in several days.

It was a bit cloudy and dark the day that I took these photos and it is a bit hard to pick out landmarks. One of the most notable landmarks, the Eiffel Tower, is not visible in the image—it is off to the far right, hidden by the trees. As I was walking away, I caught a glimpse of the tower and by climbing on a wall and leaning against a railing, I was able to capture the second image below. You can definitely see how much the structure towers over the surrounding buildings (pun intended).

Panorama of Paris

Eiffel Tower

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

 

Read Full Post »

During my three-week vacation in Paris, I am staying in a small studio apartment that I rented through Airbnb. It is located on the top floor of an old building on Rue Montorgueil, a pedestrian zone in the center of the city that is lined with shops and restaurants.

One of the apartment’s wonderful features is that it has a balcony overlooking the street. Although I have had to bundle up a bit in the cool November weather, I love spending as much time as I can sitting outside, observing the people below. The first shot shows one of my first dinners here. I don’t usually photograph my food, but this image gives you a sense of the balcony setting as well as a look at some of my basic food groups here.

The second shot gives you an idea of the view from the balcony. Yes, it is a long way down, but it is literally not for the faint of heart, because you have to walk up 96 stairs in a narrow winding stairway in order to get this view.

The final photo shows one small set of the stairs I have to climb. On each of the six floors, there is a small landing and one apartment to the left and one to the right.

dinner in Paris

Paris balcony view

Paris apartment stairs

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

Read Full Post »

How do you photograph a structure like the Eiffel Tower that is so iconic and so well-known? The first choice is to decide which side of the Seine River you want to be on when taking the photos. You can get some good photos from the hilly area across the river called Trocadéro, or you can stay on the same side as the tower itself. I chose the latter option.

There are some real limitations, because the grassy areas leading away from the tower are fenced off.  If you get far enough away, you can get the traditional full-length shot like the second image below. I personally like to move closer and shoot upwards.

Unfortunately, my favorite angle is no longer available. In 2011 I was able to walk right underneath the tower and shoot direct upwards while standing in the middle of the four legs. Now there are plexiglass barriers surrounding the entire tower that are used to funnel visitors to a single entrance with fees and security checks for those who want to climb the tower or take the elevator.

The first show below is my favorite. I like the angle and was able to wait for the clouds to move into a photogenic position. I took the shot with a DSLR and a zoom lens. Recently, I bought my first real smartphone, an iPhone 11, and during this trip I am learning how to use it. I am still not used to the idea of taking photos with a phone and it feels so unnatural to hold at arms length to take a photo. However, this iPhone has a super-wide mode and I decided to use it to take the final photo. The perspectives are a little distorted, almost like a fisheye lens, but I like the effect.

As you probably have noticed, I am combining the roles of a tourist and a photographer, thinking a lot about my shots as I take them. Unlike most of the tourists I saw yesterday, though, I don’t plan to spend a lot of time taking multiple selfies.

Eiffel Tower

Eiffel Tower

Eiffel Tower

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

Read Full Post »

Yesterday, on the day of my arrival in Paris, I felt drawn to visit Notre Dame de Paris, anxious to assess its current condition. There was a lot of worldwide press on the fire in April 2019, but since that time Notre Dame has  disappeared from the headlines, at least in the United States.

My first view of the cathedral was of the towers, which appear to be relatively intact. From that angle, as shown in the second photo, I had no idea of the extent of the damage the fire had caused.

When I crossed to the bank of the Seine River and walked down to the water level, I could clearly see the massive devastation. There is scaffolding supporting part of the structure and tarps covering other areas. This is a familiar angle for me, and I distinctively sense and feel the loss of the roof and the spire that are no longer present.

I am sure that I will photograph Notre Dame multiple times during this stay in Paris, but it seems appropriate to share these photos today, as I compose my first post from this beautiful city.

If you have not seen my photos of Notre Dame de Paris in 2011 that were featured in my last post, Temporary change of venue, check it out and you can do your own comparisons.

Notre Dame de Paris

Notre Dame de Paris

 

© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.

 

Read Full Post »