Greg Molyneux Photography

Tag: landscape

Best Photographs of 2017
The Observer — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
The Observer | Captured: February 2, 2017 | Location: Cedar Run Dock Road, West Creek NJ
This checks all the boxes in the Big List of Striking Winter Sunsets on the Marsh™. Intense pastels illuminating a cloud filled sky? Check. Glassy water reflecting back the image of said cloud filled sky? Check. And of course dormant browns of of half frozen marsh grass now void of life? Check. This is winter on Dock Road. Winter in all its stark glory. The pause between breaths as we await life’s return. It is to the winter sky alone we look to light the fire in the otherwise dark and cold reaches lurking in the depths of winter.
Overrun — 35mm | f/1.4 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/4000
Overrun | Captured: February 4, 2017 | Location: East Coast Avenue, Loveladies NJ
I am best known for the high detail color photographs I produce on the regular. But it is minimalist black and white composition that is my preferred medium of expression. Simple lines and strong contrast, set against a proper light and form interplay to creates a product worthy of careful attention. It is easy to see intense color and a dramatic sky and connect to the pop in an instance. It is a whole other animal to sit with an image. To drink it in and consider the mood and the tone; not only of the scene but of that creator as well. What is the message? What is the metaphor? What is driving the simplicity weighed against a study in contrast and line? Is the subject large or small? More important does it matter? There are but a few of the questions you can sit with gazing upon a piece that offers room to breathe.
Golden Glow Before the Snow — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/160
Golden Glow Before the Snow | Captured: February 8, 2017 | Location: Stafford Municipal Boat Ramp, Cedar Run Dock Road, West Creek NJ
More simplicity. More February photographs. Patterns are forming that will hold true for the rest of this gallery. Here we move from vivid pastels and contrasty black and white to the warming glow wrought by the strong yellow tones of golden hour. Cast out over a lolling bay the light infuses the world with tranquility and summons you to relax. Breathe. Pause. Breathe again. Drink in the paradox that is warm winter light shone through the damning reality of cold winter temperatures. A look into this photograph tells us nothing of the cold outside and the snow on the way. Looks can be deceiving. Cherish them, but do not wholly place your trust—for it may be but a glamour coloring a whole other truth.
From Stone to Sand — 14mm | f/2.8 | ISO 400 | EXP 1/60
From Stone to Sand | Captured: March 23, 2017 | Location: Surf City Sunset Park, Surf City NJ
Work with what you know. Work different when you can. Here I set to work here with my 14mm lens—my most used lens. With intent I abandoned my usual manual focus process. Ditching rigid adherence to sharp focus throughout the composition, I flexed to a selective focus strategy. A strategy I often deploy when shooting my 35mm and 100mm lenses. The result is a wide angle photograph that falls away from the four small pebbles set atop a damp sand stage. Waves roll back to a blurred out sunset bringing a depth and illusiveness to the composition. Cool blue tones bookend a thin strip of fired horizon. A horizon as if painted by an easy brushstroke made with a loose hand bent on coy imperfection.
Clear View — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/10
Clear View | Captured: March 23, 2017 | Location: Surf City Sunset Park, Surf City NJ
Here we strip down landscape photography to its basic form. An uncomplicated study in line, movement and color theory. Laid bare have nothing more than a mirrored gradient of color. Our mirror halved by a thin line cutting the center with dark contrast. The photograph hinged to its bottom world darkened and brooding. The bottom world features gentle undulations furthering the difference to its elevated counterpart. Here we have a waved surface to counteract the staid air above. There is subtle movement in these undulations. Movement drawing us over the water as we travel from the left’s strong glow to the darkened shadow of the right. Our eyes move top to bottom, left to right in this simple study of color and line. Embrace the minimalist and remember less is more.
Nothing on the Top — 35mm | f/1.4 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/1600
Nothing on the Top | Captured: June 11, 2017 | Location: Ocean Acres, Stafford NJ
It is late spring now. What has been a journey in landscape photography now takes a turn to nature and flowers. A turn back to my photographic roots. I cut my teeth in 2012 with flowers. It’s how I learned how to shoot. In subsequent years wide angle landscapes cannibalized my attention but 2017 called my back to my origin story. In this photograph I use my backyard honeysuckle to play out many of my favorite tropes. First is the selective focus, keeping only two pods of honeysuckle together in focus. Your eye starts in the bottom left third and leaps up to the upper right third creating movement. From there it all falls back to bokeh in a kaleidoscope of pink, purple and green. This is a small scale fantasy writ large. Balanced only in what you can see weighed against what only your mind can make known.
Sunday Alone — 35mm | f/1.4 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/640
Sunday Alone | Captured: June 25, 2017 | Location: Ocean Acres, Stafford NJ
Let us continue our flowery bokeh dream. Here we get moody and elusive. The blossoming heads of rudbeckia flowers drift in and out of focus. Cast as an array splayed out in a stunning bouquet of form and color. Have we been shrunk down to join this world? Or do we find ourselves pawns at the whim of giant flowers? Questions arise as we search to find our place. Where do we fit? One of the peculiar elements that attaches me to this photograph is its painted affect. This seems more a fit at the business end of a skilled oil brush than the product of glass and machine. Here lies the hidden jewel of photography—the serendipitous unknown of the journey. Unplanned surprises that render whole worlds in a way that elevate us beyond mere reproduction. Photography is more than a single moment captured as though frozen. We endeavor to convey movement and life both before and after we press the shutter. There is a story flowing by and our page most give clue to what was and what still may be.
See Me — 100mm | f/2.8 | ISO 400 | EXP 1/1000
See Me | Captured: June 25, 2017 | Location: Ocean Acres, Stafford NJ
Is it joy you seek or darkness and foreboding? This photograph manifests whatever you take with you. Each journey is a personal and only your soul will choose. Your gaze starts atop the hosta flower bloom, hailing from the highest point. Now begin your spiral descent carrying a pack weighed with thoughts and projections. And down farther still you search the darkest reaches touched here and there by a lightened edge of leaf. Is it a lifeboat to keep you afloat? Or will you sink below to the depths beyond? Will you confront the self that lies beneath? Your weapons, you will not need them.
In the Flower of My Youth — 100mm | f/3.5 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/320
In the Flower of My Youth | Captured: June 25, 2017 | Location: Ocean Acres, Stafford NJ
In full disclosure this may be my favorite photograph of the year. My growing affinity sits in the drama playing out between the two rudbeckia flowers. There is an interplay and sense of conflict between the two subjects. Our foreground flower is moving on and leaving its companion left behind. There is an obvious parting but what is the meaning of their goodbye? Are they leaving on good terms? Is there strife? I read a sense of both ennui and quiet resolve through it all. Furthering the enigmatic mystery is the yellow hue dominating the image. Yellow often conveys happiness through warmth and yet it is still not clear that is the case here. Much like the previous photograph may haps this photograph must play out on the stage of our own mind directed by our own bias.
A Marsh Life — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
A Marsh Life | Captured: June 27, 2017 | Location: Cedar Run Dock Road, West Creek NJ
We have come to the final landscape in this 12 photo set. It is not without a small bit of controversy, either. I’ve been back and forth between this and its counterpart, yet have finally settled upon this for my set. My reason is simple. More than showing off a stellar summer sunset bathing a stunning pink glow upon the salt marsh, I wanted to show the human element at work. People make this place their home. There is a real and beautiful world right outside our doorstop. Some folks set atop the razor’s edge of nature’s wrath and its grace. The salt marsh fits this category. Weather and storms rain hell, yet in its benevolence it bestows gifts of wonder, peace and light.
The Small Blue — 100mm | f/3.5 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/500
The Small Blue | Captured: July 24, 2017 | Location: Ocean Acres, Stafford NJ
Take the stage your time is now. An eastern tailed blue stepped into the spotlight and I was lucky enough to serve paparazzo for a moment. The entirety of this photograph is set up by the sharp beam of light dropping vertical through the photograph a bit left of center. This strong light source further serves to illuminate the master crafted wing tips of our butterfly friend. There she feeds full of grace atop a fresh purple coneflower wholly unconcerned with our presence. May we all feel so empowered when the light fixes and it is our time to shine.
Little Lion — 100mm | f/3.5 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/640
Little Lion | Captured: December 10, 2017 | Location: Ocean Acres, Stafford NJ
I end this set in a fitting place. My cat Daisy became part of my household in late July and my world has been richer for it. She has been both a source of comfort and a driver for change. With Daisy I have a partner and a friend. A pet to care for and an ally to support. Through that I have a new muse, a trusted friend to photograph. A source for comfort as I dabble into portraiture. So here it is with my last photograph, a portrait photograph, that I declare my pivot in 2018. I have a goal to expand my photographic reach into portraits. And not only pets, but human friends too. This will not be set to replace my landscape and nature work, more so it will augment my skill and range behind the lens.
Coda
2017 marks my fourth best of retrospective. (I invite you to check out 2014, 2015 and 2016 to assess my growth through the years.) It is the highlight of my photographic year. It puts into perspective my body of work over a set period of time. Instead of working one discrete photograph at a time as I do all year long, here I see my once singular photo as a piece of a larger whole. Each year I work through this process I learn new lessons and see my photographs in a different light. Time works for and against me in this regard. Some photos I was certain I loved fade over the year, while other photographs command my attention and affection in stronger ways.
With that in mind 2017 was different from 2014–2016 in three key ways. First, I made far fewer photographs in 2017—more than a 50% reduction in total exposures. Second, my volume of landscape work declined proportional to my overall shot reduction . A the same time my flower and macro work increased relative to my total body of shots. Third, I did not have any full stop stand out mega hits—see Ruinous Splendor for an example. However, my total body of work is more cohesive and consistent, and thereby stronger. It is in this same vein I am proud of my 2017 set. There is a core theme of simplicity, color theory and minimalism carried across my work here. A cohesiveness that has not always been there before. Better still is balance: a strong sampling across landscape, nature and flower photographs. There is even a portrait worked in. Presented together there is more breadth and focus to my work. I am confident I am finally cultivating a style to call my own.
Retrospective
December 24, 2017
Derelict
Derelict — 14mm | f/8 | ISO | 7 Bracketed Exposures
The twin forces of time and water erode a once proud place of recreation and enterprise. Torn asunder in Sandy’s rage, the derelict of Rand’s continues to degrade. The months pass and the irresistible force of nature reclaims as it is wont. In the absence of human intervention the twin forces return the natural order. The skeletal remains that once brought safe harbor to ships fade in a slow, inexorable exodus to the sea. With the outpost unmanned nature will have what is hers. Nature will always have what is hers. The twin forces do not sleep.
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December 21, 2017
Endeavor
Endeavor — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Endeavor to try new things.
Endeavor to make new paths.
Endeavor to challenge yourself. To push yourself. Endeavor to reject the voice that says no.
Endeavor to forgive.
Endeavor to learn.
Endeavor to conquer. Not others. Not things. Endeavor to conquer yourself.
Endeavor to be each moment. It’s the only moment we’ve got.
Endeavor to make mistakes.
Endeavor to learn. To laugh. To cry.
Endeavor to fail.
Endeavor to forgive.
Endeavor to learn.
Endeavor to try new things.
Endeavor to be.
Endeavor.
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December 5, 2017
Set Down
Set Down — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
It was easy living at sunset yesterday afternoon. A soothing burn caught fire over the calm water and quiet sky at Stafford Forge. Alone in the stand I stood, taking in the slow smolder and making my brackets. So easy was the pace I was able to step back from my camera equipment to breathe in the scene. A steady moment of respite to quiet the cacophony of life.
In my head I like to letter grade sunsets. The familiar range from A+ to F- that would either make or break your parents’ hearts. Without hesitation I slotted last night a B+ effort. Not Mother Nature’s most profound work, but worthy of recognition and praise regardless. I laughed to myself as B+ manifest unsolicited in my head, noting how my letter grade habit sort of just happens. I’m still a slave to the report card it would seem.
Better than an assignment of grade, however, was the value of being there, present in the moment. Quiet and alone taking in the master work of the natural world even when it’s not A+. It was there I stood taking in the cool fall air and eyeing the fire as the light of day set down.
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November 28, 2017
Gratitude
Gratitude — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Navigating my way to the harbor of gratitude has not come easy. For too much of my wayward adolescence, followed by protracted adolescence, and followed still by reluctant adulthood I have sailed headlong in the seas of bitterness. Tired and alone. For long years the song of the Seirênes would see me crash upon the rocks left bereft and embittered. Aimless I sailed rudderless and without wax. All too eager to hear their song, giving in myself to ease and complaint. Alone on a leaking vessel, left to lament and stew instead of acknowledging privilege and blessing.
Whether it the natural course of aging, health scares, or a seaman’s search for home, I am want to release the angst. To avoid the call. To stuff my ears full with wax. I am ready to stretch the lines and grow to embrace that which is important and true. Long yet I must travel, though on this Thanksgiving I sail one leg closer to the warm embrace and calm shores of gratitude. May your own journey find its port of purpose.
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November 23, 2017
Sunset Story
Sunset Story — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Cold creeps, it stretches and subsumes as light runs eastward to darkened horizons. Birds swarm and spool, spiraling along supplicating breezes sent to steel them. Solemn avians stand tall. Stoic sentries stalk shallow pools steadfast in search of sustenance. Shrieks and squawks signal sounds of supplication. The search sated. Air stings cold yet life sings passion. Soaring above the sacrifice of sunlight sequestered.
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November 20, 2017
Cold Movement
Cold Movement — 35mm | f/1.4 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/100
I’ve been listening to Walter Isaacson’s, Leonardo Da Vinci, on Audible. While I haven’t enjoyed it as much as his biographies on Steve Jobs, Albert Einstein, and Benjamin Franklin, I find I am connect more though Walter’s latest work. Being something of an interdisciplinary and a procrastinator there is a resonance with the famous Florentine. While at only a fraction of a percent on Leonardo’s scale I, too, have a wide array of interests powered by curiosity. A Jack-of-all-trades I want to know a little something about as many things as possible. Of course Leonardo took this to a mind-boggling level; a Leonardo-of-all-trades and the master of all. He stands as the pinnacle Renaissance Man, even if he left most of his work unfinished or unpublished. Of course, he was more interested in pursing art, mathematics, engineering, optics, fluid dynamics, and stage craft to acquire knowledge for its own sake. He was less concerned with finishing things and reaping external rewards that motivate many of us.
Much of Isaacson’s biography covers Leonardo’s work as a painter. While I was a mediocre and frustrated painter at best who never enjoyed the practice, these chapters have sparked connection to my photography. Isaacson tells us Leonardo was a master of movement in his works. He instructs us that a work should not capture a moment as frozen and rigid. Instead it is necessary to convey what was happening one moment ago in the past transitioning to what will happen in the next moment in the future. This fundamental cornerstone built an emotional and narrative quality in Leonardo’s work. He wrote about its importance many times across the decades in his famous notebooks.
Taking this maxim from the preeminent Renaissance master has me thinking I would do well to incorporate movement into my own work. I want to create photography that flows from one moment into the next. Better this than a stale image, emotionless and locked in time. In a weird way, armed with Leonardo’s thoughts on the matter, I can picture him judging my work with cutting critique. In this way I want to be sure I it will pass muster.
Last night on the marsh I had my first chance at capturing movement under the auspices of Maestro. The first arctic air mass of the year arrived in New Jersey yesterday. With it a biting north west wind to serve as wake up call that winter is coming. The sky was cast with a deep orange-purple glow that only shows when a serious winter trough swings through. Set to this dreamy backdrop, invasive phragmites bent low before the stiff breeze; bowing in unified motion under the power of wind. Here was my chance at movement. Using my 35mm lens, soft focus, and a hint of blur the viewer can imagine where the phragmites were a glimpse prior. Now compare that with where they will be in the next eye blink. The movement brings action and reality to an otherwise still looking scene. This better conveys the cold, windy, unsettled reality on the marsh last night. This stands in narrative opposition to what could otherwise look like a placid blue hour on the marsh.
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November 11, 2017
Color the Season
Color the Season — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/40
The calendar flips, it’s getting short on pages. The daylight wanes and I take stock of my photography. Judged on quantity alone this will be my least productive year yet. Fewest number of posts since starting this site in January 2014, and the fewest number of photographs since I began shooting in January 2012. Such a surface level analysis falls short, leaving the scene unfinished. When assessing the quality of my work I take more solace in my production. My photography continues to improve, and that’s the metric that counts. Though I’d be lying if I said my reduced output hasn’t gnawed at me. Yet the story doesn’t stop here.
The best, and most surprising development in 2017 has come by way of writing. My photography has always been the feature on this site, and that will not change. Even so, writing has assumed new prominence and personal joy. I would go so far to say I experience more intrinsic reward writing when compared to shooting and processing. I’m not going to contend I am great—or even good—at writing. But I will contend it stretches my mind and creativity in unexpected ways. The reality that writing does not come as natural to me as photography is a factor here as well. There is reward in the effort.
In previous years I’d make a photo, post it here and write a paragraph or two about the shot itself. If not that I’d discuss the motions I was going through in making said shot. It was little more than a narrative recounting of the scene I was capturing. Of course, a well made photo can do a far better job of conveying a scene. Lately I have been poring more energy in telling stories. I let the photograph trigger a thought, idea, or suggestion and I run with it, even if it has next to nothing to do with the photo itself. This freeform flow follows a similar trajectory to how I have always settled on my photo titles. I most always let the first thought or phrase that comes to my mind stick. And now so it goes with my writing exercise. It creates a nice companion piece to stand aside my photo work. While it may not be for everyone it helps me grow as a person and as a creator. It also makes me more excited about my own photography.
There’s no reason to expect this trend will not continue as November turns to December, and as the calendar reloads with a fresh stack of pages come 2018. I will continue to take more risks with my writing, letting my mind stroll where it is wont to go. My hope beyond this is that I can work more creative risk taking into my photography. To take new steps, take more risks and infuse more creative to my work. A lot can happen in a year, and not all of it expected.
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November 9, 2017
The Moon Was a Crescent
The Moon Was a Crescent — 100mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1.6 sec
The moon was a crescent, thin and sharp as the blade of a knife. A pale sun rose and set and rose again. Red leaves whispered in the wind. Dark clouds filled the skies and turned to storms.
—Bran III, A Dance with Dragons; volume five in A Song of Ice and Fire.
Author George R. R. Martin, in one of his strongest, and most rhythmic chapters in A Song of Ice and Fire brings the reader into long, uninterrupted passage of time. Written with exacting precision, we, along with the moon and the characters therein, cycle through time as Bran trains with the Three-Eyed Raven. “The moon was fat and full… The moon was a black hole in the sky… The moon was a crescent, thin and sharp as the blade of a knife.” The cycle repeats no fewer than three times as readers work through Bran’s journey. Cold and lonely in a cave unseeing yet aware of the cold, cruel world outside. We endure the passage of time with our protagonist. Aware of both repetition, effort and duration. This takes peculiar significance with Bran who himself is able to take over the minds of others, man and beast. As readers, Martin is imploring us to do the same through his language. We become Bran in that cave.
Recalling how I felt when I first read through this chapter I marvel at what Martin had done. His use of language, tone, rhythm and repetition stirring my imagination. I saw the moon. I experienced the time. I was with our hero feeling the burden of the work and paralyzed with the task ahead. I am not a prodigious reader, nor am I schooled in language, grammar or creative writing. Yet this chapter left a mark as though made from a crescent, thin and sharp as the blade of a knife. It took the habit of reading, and thereby the art of writing, to a new level of appreciation. For the first time I perceived how exacting words can move mind, body and soul. It was tangible evidence that reading is essential to better writing. It is the key to better storytelling. The key to better understanding of our world and our audience.
Standing out on the marsh last week, watching a sunset fade, I saw the moon was a crescent, thin and sharp as the blade of a knife. Immediately transported I saw all the sickled moon blades I’d witnessed over the years. In the same moment I was Bran. At the same moment still I was reading Martin’s words, seeing again all the sickled moon blades I’d witnessed over the years. Sharp as a knife, black as a hole, fat and full. Anything… everything happening at once, thin and sharp as the blade of a knife.
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October 28, 2017