Contre-jour; Silhouettes and Cutouts.

This is one of the first posts I created (almost an entire year ago), and then completely forgot about. Haha. I've always been interested in silhouettes and their artistic offerings in the ways of photography. The french term for silhouettes, Contre-Jour literally translates as "against daylight." Silhouettes bring forms and shapes down to their most basic, but at the same time I think they are sometimes more of a bold statement than most other kinds of photography. Here are some of my favorites from years past.

"Evasive yet confrontational." Los Angeles, CA.

Estes Park, CO.

Detroit Airport, MI.

Los Angeles, CA.

The Top of the Rock, NYC, NY.

Estes Park, CO.

Lake Austin, TX

Downtown Austin, TX.

Valley Village, CA.

From Courtney

"Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is nonexistent. And don’t bother concealing your thievery—celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: “It’s not where you take things from—it’s where you take them to."

-Jim Jarmusch

Witnesses of decay

Took a deeper look at the wastelands of Cleveland, when I was home for Christmas. It surprises me more and more each time to find moments of incredible beauty in the way this city has fallen apart. It's bittersweet, but absolutely fascinating at the same time.

"The Guardians of Traffic"

Four giant Art Deco style statues guard the entrances to the Hope Memorial Bridge, which crosses over the Cuyahoga River, close to downtown. They were designed by sculptor Henry Hering and architect Frank Walker. The bridge was constructed in 1932, and renovated later in the 80s. They were constructed to symbolize progress in transportation.


Each one holds a different mode of transportation. They are wonderful. (And not just because they remind me of the giant statues that guard the river in The Lord of the Rings Movie, well, OK, maybe that's why...)

According to Wikipedia: the bridge "was listed in the National Register of Historic Places on October 8, 1976, after a controversy in which county engineer Albert S. Porter threatened to remove the historic pylons to widen the span, stating, 'Those columns are monstrosities and should be torn down and forgotten. There is nothing particularly historic about any one of them. We're not running a May Show here.'" That blows my mind. How could someone not appreciate the grandeur of these things? I guess you could say it fits in perfectly with the way this city has fallen apart. Walking around, you can tell there is no appreciation for the architecture or the infrastructure. What a giant waste.




Stumbled upon this old abandoned-looking gas station. These sweet old-school gas pumps look like they haven't been touched in years. Gorgeous. There are so many places in this city that feel like time has just stopped. Buildings and designs were simply abandoned and left to rot. No one has bothered to wind up the clock so the city can move forwards again.



The entire place is littered with the remnants of industry.




Lots of the older buildings and factories in this area have faded layers of numerous company names on the external sides of their brick walls. Nobody bothered to lay down a fresh coast of paint before scribing the new words. It's endlessly interesting to me because you can see the complex layers of history splattered across all these places. The wear and tear of neglect and disinterest abounds, which in the end creates a new identity itself.




In many ways, it's a shame to see a place in such dire neglect. I'm sure Cleveland is only the tip of the iceberg as far as rotting industrial cities goes, and it doesn't look like anyone will have the desire or the power to step in and clean things up anytime soon...

West Side Market, Cleveland

There is something amazing about open air markets. Whenever I visit one, I wish grocery stores were never invented. Over Christmas, I visited the West Side Market in Cleveland with my parents. Check out the history here, it's actually pretty interesting.



Open markets create a strong sense of community. They are a personal, visual and visceral experience. The vivid colors and the dirt on the floor, the heckling of European and Middle-Eastern vendors, "one dollar for you, pretty lady, one dollar," create an unmatched atmosphere and experience. You actually interact with the people who make or cultivate your food. You have the opportunity to establish relationships with the vendors and other customers, which doesn't typically happen in a traditional grocery store.





And you can have a direct interaction with your food. You can taste it and feel it and smell it. I guess you can do all of those things in a regular grocery store too, but it's not a complete experience in the flourescent-lit crowded impersonal grocery store. Seeing your food come from different stalls makes you consciously think about where it's coming from and how it gets to your plate. It's so European and old world and wonderful.





The colors and the life of the place were so vibrant, which says a lot considering that we went close to closing time, around 3 p.m. in the afternoon, when most of the vendor stands were closing or closed already, and the crowds began to thin out.





How I wish Austin had a market like this. Next time I want to go around the exterior of the building also, and try to catch some more crowd shots. The building was put up in 1912, and definitely reeks of the old Cleveland aesthetic.

Bliss.

The top of the Hancock Building. Glorious silhouettes and cityscapes. My two favorite things.


























Mad love for Chicago.

High Culture

The Chicago Art Institute Modern Wing = a Renzo Piano masterpiece.

I would love to see how the natural light works during the day, because apparently he employs the use of special auto-adjusting lights to keep a very specific, consistent balance of light in the exhibition rooms. I can only imagine how bright white daylight would illuminate the exhibitions in a very clean and elegant way. All that aside, I have to say it was spectacular at night also.


I'm obsessed with the use of straight lines and glass in this building. That's kind of Piano's signature style, but when you're actually inside this building, everything just seems to flow together in a breathtaking way. The combination of the warm oak hardwood floors and the abundance of windows creates an interesting warm but airy haven from the freezing cold outside. Very unusual, very well executed.

Has some pretty cool art inside also ;)

I should've tried to snap a shot of this glass wall facing outwards, because it shows off Frank Gehry's curvaceous music pavillion in Milennium Park. It's a cool kind of homage from one architect to another.



Overall, it was an illuminating experience. Hehehe.

Because some things are just better in B&W

"We should have framed this place, and kept it on your shelf, next to your big city dreams."

You might recognize this angle from my very first post back in February. I think I like this version better. Cool to see the ways in which my vision of Chicago has mutated and the ways it has remained the same over the course of the last year. Many of those original photos remain some of my all time favorites, but it's neat to see my perspective evolve.