Ansel
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128 creative works found
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Old Oak tree has lost all its original limbs but recently sprouted a new top.
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This wonderful oak tree is located in the foothills of the Tehachapi Mountains in Southern California. All the original limbs have been broken off by the snow loads of winter storms. The present limbs were regrown over the years. Photo taken during a blowing snowstorm.
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A path beckons in the twilight hours. Solemn, serene yet boding like a snake sleeping in the cold.
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There’s sunshine and swell but it’s too windy to get decent waves without a massive massive paddle.. so, we watched and waited.. then moved on.
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Portrait of Georgia O’Keeffe. Oil on Canvas / American Artist. Georgia O’Keeffe was raised in Wisconsin, educated in Chicago and Virginia, taught, painted, and lived on the east coast until her early sixties when she moved to Abiquiu, & Santa Fe, New Mexico. Close to one hundred when she died in 1986, living alone and painting in scenery that inspired her famous flowers in closeup with strong sexuality, voluptuous lilies and poppies, stark desert landscapes and animal skeletons. She worked in charcoal, water color, and finally oils, and worked large. I’m not sure her story is known well outside the states. She was photographed, courted, and married (1924) by famed 1920’s photographer Alfred Stieglitz who adored her, left his wife and family for her, and made her more famous than he was. She too, was madly in love with him. His black and white photographs of O’Keeffe filled Stieglitz’s famed “291” gallery in New York and caused a sensation with portraits focused on her beautiful bone structure and striking looks, and spectacular nudity. He took over 300 portraits of her from 1918 to 1937. Stieglitz may have been in love, but smart enough of a businessman to cause O’Keeffe’s work to skyrocket in price, averaging $100,000 a painting, monumental for a living artist and a woman in that time. What he did for her career lasted, interest waned some but revived and her work is priceless now. Every girl painter can use a Stieglitz, few get one. Stieglitz died in 1946 and she moved permanently to New Mexico three years later after cataloguing his work and papers. She was 59, began a new life in a landscape she claimed as her own. “God said I may have that mountain,” she’d written, “if I paint it enough.” So she did. / I painted this from one of Alfred Stieglitz’s famous photographs of Georgia O’Keeffe. / When you do portraits, you start to hear conversations from that time, get a sense of the thinking of the subject, smells and impressions wander through you or assault you inescapably. It’s a fascinating and somewhat dangerous occupation because when you put down the brush and turn away you wonder where the hell you’ve been and question your sanity. I’ve come to accept it as just what happens and there it is. One cannot help but see Stieglitz’s fascination with O’Keeffe’s profound physical symmetry. It bothered me. I thought it annoyed Georgia, too, that he was making more of it than in truth was there. Certainly a thoughtfully bright, introspective & solid woman. But he did not capture the O’Keeffe who stood in the desert in thunderstorms alone in the middle of the night to draw the electricity in the air into her being, which she was notorious for doing. Or the O’Keeffe who lived alone on her Ghost Ranch, and drove in her Model A Ford recklessly to plateaus and mountains of New Mexico to soak in the wilderness. DH Lawrence, Ansel Adams, the Lindberghs were visitors. / It’s not the last portrait I’ll do of her, but I wanted to see more in her than Stieglitz’s precision, no matter how beautiful that is to see. / I think he was incredibly kind and thoughtful about this woman’s life, and helped her reach a financial independence undreamt of for an artist of her time and sex. Stieglitz said of the first drawings of Georgia O’Keeffe that he saw: “Finally, a woman on paper!” He admired her, and he loved her. I can’t blame him for thinking her perfect. I’m just not so sure he saw the savage in Georgia. Other US photographers who did some earlier radical work in b/w, nature, and nudes you might want to visit: Ansel Adams. Brett, Edward, and Cole Weston. Edna St Vincent Millay wrote: “My candle burns at both ends; / It will not last the night; / But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends— / It gives a lovely light!” / Which, published in 1918 became an anthem to end constraints on overwatched Victorian girls. A wild, free life… edged with death. / The Hawks Perch
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Photo featuring a natural stone bridge found within Death Valley National Park.
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Very old oak tree in California foothills during snowstorm.
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Sunset on the Yosemite Valley.
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New snow and fog frozen on old oak tree.
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The church at the old mission of Chimayo in northern New Mexico. Also known as El Sanctuario de Chimayo. Cloudy evening in the Spring just before a rainshower, the spot betwen the two steeples is a pigeon in flight.
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Taken in Victoria Park Bristol.
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The early morning sun and fog move on and around El Capitan.
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Water flowing down rocky steps.
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Half Dome Yosemite National Park.
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Kootenay River, (National Park) B. C., Canada.
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My tribute to the master, not a patch on his work but I’m still learning. / Best viewed large. /
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i walk in a puddle of love / near the golden gate bridge seen in the distance / view from baker beach, san francisco when my friends invited me to san francisco, / it would be the first time in my adult life that i had spent time there since being a playful teenager, visiting my sisters flat / they asked me to make a list of the places i wanted to see / and out of the four things i really wanted to do over the weekend, two included “finding Ansel Adams” i knew from stories that I read, that as a young child, Ansel live in SF, somewhere near the western addition and the presidio and would often walk down to Baker Beach, and the other was to go see his gallery at a winery just outside san francisco. how alive the city of san francisco felt, what dreamers would dream; people bustling with energy, never dulled by the overcast, rain or cold- still out riding their bikes, surfing, walking the dog or jogging one of the many trails along the waterfront and through the hills. the architecture alive with color and detail, setting a moody backdrop. when we finally made it to my first destination at baker beach / i knew i had found a piece of ansel adams that i could keep forever take time to notice the little things in life / ©gabryshak
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shot at 12mm, f/4.5 / edited using Adobe Photoshop CS3
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Garnet Lake and Banner Peak highlight the majestic alpine beauty of the Ansel Adams Wilderness in the Sierra Nevada Mountains of California.
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Fine art black and white print – available matted or framed.
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