I’ve enjoyed working on silhouette photographs from my archives this week. They can be a powerful way to show relationships while also minimizing distractions. I made the photograph above at the Tate Modern museum in London and it still blows me away to see it. Liz and I went specifically to see a show but misread the time and arrived five minutes before the museum was to close. She went right to the museum shop and I went up on the balcony and, honestly, pouted. In the process, however, I looked out on the vast space toward the entry, late afternoon light flooding through the tall windows and streaking across the floor, and was stunned at the silhouettes and shadows I saw. I was speechless but was able to make a dozen exposures as people walked across the shadows.
The rest of these are set more in the natural world, and I hope you enjoy them as much as I have.
Any who read this blog regularly or who live or have travelled in Central Vermont, know this striking silhouette well—the mountain known as Camel’s Hump, so obvious from nearly every place—here seen against the backdrop of a beautiful sunset sky. I once did a slide show for a local senior center and featured a number of images of the mountain from various locations, all to the delight of the “old folks” for whom Camel’s Hump had long been part of their lives. “I used to see that from my kitchen window.” or “On the way to the barn, it was always there.” I treasure that time with them and know full well what an important role this silhouette has played in my life for the 45 years we’ve lived here. It is always there greeting me when I come home.
The moon is so mysterious. Unlike the sun, it is always in different places at different times and in different shapes; sometimes not visible at all, at least when I’m awake, or “hidden” in a blue sky or lost in clouds or a storm. I usually keep track of the dates of the new moon and full moon and usually have a good idea of when and where to see it if conditions allow.
Often I’m delighted by a surprise viewing, as was the case with this full moon. My photo pal and I had spent a long day out with our cameras and on the long, winding drive home anticipated where we might see the full moon we knew would soon rise. When it peeked over the trees, we found a safe spot to stop and enjoyed this long view across a lake as it rose silhouetted in the hands of the conifers. This was a “blue” moon, meaning the second full moon in the calendar month, and I was grateful it revealed itself to us.
Another sunset! What would life be without them, this a fire in the winter sky and the perfect place to silhouette the bare trees. So often these spectacular shows only last a few minutes and that was the case with this one as well. But what a glorious way to end a day of being out on a walk with friends.
Another silhouette of trees but this against a huge Spring cloud, again right at sunset but without the brilliant color. Instead the “God beams,” or crepuscular rays as they are known in science, shooting up through the hazy sky as the sun sets. Sort of a double silhouette! Sights like this just take my breath away. Often I have to remind myself, after I make a photograph like this, to just put down the camera, take a couple deep breathes and be thankful.
Again, thank you for taking time to enjoy these silhouettes with me. May you find more in your week ahead.