The Ultimate Geek

While many prefer to shy away from their inner geek, I tend to proclaim my geekdom with pride. I openly tell my students that I am the ultimate bio-geek, photo-geek, and nature-geek. I not only embrace my inner geek, but I try to convince my captive audience that it is cool to be a geek and those who hide from "geeking out" are the real losers. 

A Quick One

Not much to say, just another cold Minnesota day... 
With morning temperatures touching -30 degrees fahrenheit during my Friday commute, and a cold breeze today, I just could not do it. I wanted to shoot, but frigophobia (fear of cold?) gripped my heart and I stayed in bed.

Tomorrow is another day. I will wake up. I will wear the winter garments. I will go outside, stand up to the elements, and try to pursue my art. Wish me luck as the call of the camera persuades me to overcome my frigophobia.


Image #1: Tettegouche State Park, MN
Image #2: Somewhere on the St. Croix River, MN

©2000-2011 BTLeventhal.com / Bruce & Tamy Leventhal. All rights reserved. No image on this site may be used without permission

When it's Cold...

Take pictures!
Unlike some of my other posts that focus on trumpeter swans ("Shooting the Cold" & "A Success Story"), this one is not about the birds. I'll also spare you from yet another rant  about how cold Minnesota can be and instead focus on my strategy for staying warm and functional when temperatures plummet. While there is no one best way to maintain your core warmth, thermoregulation is a necessity if you plan to be a productive photographer in sub-zero conditions.
Having lived a chunk of my life in warmer states, it has taken me nearly twenty-years to finally understand how to continue shooting when most people would rather sit around a fire, hide under a blanket, and drink a hot toddy. What follows is my top ten list of suggestions that will make you a better cold-weather photographer.

1. Layers, Layers, Layers! Dress in layers: When planning a cold weather shoot, I wear sock liners, socks, thermal underwear, thick pants, t-shirt, long-sleaved shirt, fleece, Gortex-lined down coat, hat, and gloves (specifics to come).
2. Thermal Underwear Matters! I wear Patagonia expedition weight thermal underwear. While patagonia products are very pricey, these thermals are as warm and tough as they get. I purchased my first pair of patagonia thermals in 1987 to stay warm during long hours of research in Alaska... I still wear and use this same set today. With Patagonia, you get what you pay for!
3. Wear Wool Socks over Sock Liners: Wool is warm, and wool will stay warm even if it gets wet. I advise that you wear liners because wool also itches.
4. Invest in good winter Boots: Everyone I know who shoots and plays in the super cold wears Sorrel of Columbia boots. Ignore your desire to be fashionable, buy ugly boots that wick away moisture and are rated to sub-zero temperatures. If your feet don't stay warm, you will not stay outside... guaranteed! 
5. Wear a Head-Sock and a Hat: Head-socks are ugly, they hide your face, people will think your batman, but they block the wind. Your core heat will escape from any exposed skin, and your face will be the source of this heat loss. I wear a head-sock to protect my skin and top it off with a hat that covers my ears. This extra bit of protection extends my productivity during the coldest hours of the morning. 
6. Gloves Matter! If you asked me five years ago if I could imagine wearing a pair of $50 gloves, I'd say Hell No! Well let me tell you, a bit frostbite will make a cheap man (or woman) open up their wallet and spend like mad. I now carry two pairs of gloves into the field whenever I do a winter shoot. Each pair retails for about $50 and has a different purpose. When shooting, I wear AquaTech Sensory Gloves. These are the warmest full cover gloves that allow for enough dexterity to manipulate the knobs and buttons on my cameras and lenses. Neoprene fingertips for the thumb and index fingers are perforated with holes that allow my fingers to be temporarily exposed, do some work, and retreat back into the warmth of the glove. My second set are a pair of Manzella mittens. When it's really cold and I feel the hammer pounding away at my finger tips, I plunge my cold lifeless clubs into a pair of Manzella Tundra Mittens and sigh in relief. Like a pair of good boots, the right gloves will keep you outside when everyone else is running for the car or cabin!
7. Drink and Eat Before you Shoot: You will burn those calories as you hike during a cold day, or wait for your subject to arrive. The cold sucks the life out of your body, and you will need to generate some internal heat to keep the system working. Surprisingly, dehydration can be a real problem during cold-weather aerobic activity. Stay hydrated, eat well, and burn that fuel.
8. Carry Chemical Hand Warmers: This is a cheap way to warm up really cold fingers. Before heading out for a long morning shoot, I will open a pair of hand warmers, shake them to initiate the chemistry, and slip them into my Manzella mittens. The extra warmth from these chemical packets provide instant relief when the tears of pain begin to flow.
9. Know How To use your Camera! The cold weather is no time to learn what those buttons do. You will be uncomfortable and you want to expose those fingers as little as possible. Knowing how to use your gear will save you from the pain of fumbling around with a camera that you should know how to use.
10. Accept the Challenge: Many photographers put their cameras away during the winter and wait for warmer days. Some of my most interesting landscapes and unique wildlife images have been made during the coldest days of the year. Get outside, use the gear, and embrace the opportunity... it's worth the effort.

All images were shot at Swan Park, Monticello. On this day, the temperature never made it above 10 degree Fahrenheit. We began shooting at 7:15 a.m. and stopped around 10:00. With the damp air and cool breeze, the weather really challenged our bodies. This type of photography was all about waiting for peak moments. The lack physical activity challenged our ability to thermoregulate during periods of inactivity. Warm clothes and pre-shoot preparations made these images possible.

©2000-2011 BTLeventhal.com / Bruce & Tamy Leventhal. All rights reserved. No image on this site may be used without permission

North Shore Journal

Tamy and I decided to celebrate the 2010 Winter Solstice in one the crispest regions of the lower 48. Located only three hours north of our home in Stillwater, Lake Superior is an icon of the midwest. Cold Canadian air swirls above this inland sea and creates localized weather systems that add drama to an already spectacular landscape. 
Put on your expedition-weight underwear, a down jacket, and take a walk with us along the North Shore... it's as cold as it looks!

Windblown Snow

Canon 5DmkII + 50mm f1.4 @ f11

Gooseberry River

Canon 5DmkII + 50mm f1.4 @ f11

Land Touches Water

Canon 5DmkII + 50mm f1.4 @ f11

Curious

Canon 1DmkII + 300 f2.8IS w/1.4xConverter @ f4.5

©2000-2011 BTLeventhal.com / Bruce & Tamy Leventhal. All rights reserved. No image on this site may be used without permission

Shooting the Cold (I)

Twenty years on and I still can't let it go. I was California dream'n with those sunny December days and January rains. It was my winter-free life, a perfect weather world that I admit to occasionally missing. I was young, a college student, a researcher and a photographer. I could motor to the bay on my Vespa, collect some data on foraging shorebirds and snap a few photos without ever needing a jacket or long-sleaved shirt. If I wanted to see snow, I could drive into the Sierra's, strap on the skis and pretend to be cold. Life was good, but it was also a bore. 


The West Coast has a homogenous climate that can be too good to be true. While I never had to endure the über-cold that I now suffer in the midwest, I craved the diversity of life and landscape that defines seasonal change. In California I had to drive to the mountains for snow, to the beach for water, and to the desert for drama. In contrast, the drama now comes to me as summer gives way to fall, fall to winter, and winter to spring. Each season ushers in renewal, diversity and change. 
Minnesota is a cold place to live with subzero temperatures that stretch into the negative double digits. These extremes create a unique landscape that is anything but static. The frigid air impacts the movement of wildlife, the texture of the land, and the light that illuminates.  


On one magical Saturday, the effect of microclimates was visible across the landscape. It was bitterly cold, but the radiant heat from below caused moist air to rise, condense and freeze as it collided with the cold air aloft. The hoar frost clung to the branches and sparkled like fine diamond jewelry. To capture the magic of this moment, I focused my 300mm lens on the crystal-laden trees, set the aperture to f/5.6 and spot metered the most reflective part of the landscape. Had I accepted the meter's reading, the sparkling frost would have appeared as tones of gray. Knowing that I wanted the trees to glow against the darker background, I increased the metered exposure by one stop from 1/320 of a second to 1/160. By exposing for the lighter tones, I was able to capture the reflective frost and add contrast to the foreground. 


While I am challenged by the long Minnesota winters and the bitter cold that defines these months, I embrace the opportunity that the inclement weather offers. The cool winter light, crisp air, and precipitation events open the door for a type of creative expression that was never possible during those winterless California days. 

©2000-2011 BTLeventhal.com / Bruce & Tamy Leventhal. All rights reserved. No image on this site may be used without permission 

Kenya 2010: Final Thoughts

Photography is much more than a record of some fleeting moment in time. The images we produce are a reflection of our experiences and lives. The well known author and travel photographer Rick Sammon, claims... "the camera looks both ways." In short, the final image is more than reflected light striking a sensor or piece of film, it is an expression of the artist, photographer, and seer. It is a purposeful interpretation of the moment.

While the tools required to produce todays' digital images are more sophisticated than the light-tight boxes that once clung to sheets of film, it is the intent of the image-maker that continues to define the final photograph. The modern camera can suggest an exposure, composition, and final processing, but the photographer still gets to choose the moment... the perspective... the time in which the shutter is released.

All of this modern technology simplifies and complicates the photo-experience. The dichotomy can confound the novice and experienced shooter, and enable a paralysis that blocks creativity. While modern cameras are more capable than ever, these capabilities can obstruct the seer from seeing. When the tools cloud our vision and stifle our potential, we must seek a new balance... we must learn to manipulate the tools rather than allowing the tools to manipulate us. 

Immerse yourself in your image making experience; be the vision maker. 
Travel with your gear, take a photo walk, and carry the camera. Use your tools to imprint your mark on the fleeting event and seek to do more than document the occasion. Our time in Kenya was about being there... living the moment... telling a story... sharing a vision.

©2000-2010 BTLeventhal.com / Bruce & Tamy Leventhal. All rights reserved. No image on this site may be used without permission 

Just Can't Stay Inside!

Tough... resilient... hardy... ignorant?
It snowed for two days and an ice pyramid now sits outside my front door. 
It was a sultry minus 12 degrees during my morning drives to work this week. 
The wind and damp air penetrates layered clothes every time I dare to venture out of doors.
We are Minnesotans... we are tough, resilient, hardy and... ignorant. 

We have to be ignorant to live here. To survive the long winter that begins each fall, one must ignore the fact that there are warmer places to live. Our collective existence requires that we ignore the cold and unpredictable weather. Furthermore, to combat the inevitable slide into depression, we must all ignore personal safety and venture outside every now and again.

Find something to photograph... much like a dog searching for a tasty morsel, this is the stimulus that keeps me going forward during the long winter months. This Saturday was like every other cold Saturday morning. The internal and external alarm buzzed the brain at 5:30, and the debate began. Should I get out of this warm bed? Really!? At some point, I lose the debate and give into my desire to taste adventure.

On this particular Saturday, I managed to convince Tamy to join me. She was reluctant, as our work week was nothing short of dreadful, but she too relented to our calling. We must try to enjoy the winter, we must try to enjoy this experience, we must distance ourselves from the oppression. 

The light sucked. It was overcast and the air was both dry and damp at the same time. The cool breeze sucked the moisture from our faces and hands, but the birds kept flying in. We could not stop our desire to document the moment. Swans who were too ignorant to realize that that warmer weather was just a flight away soared into the Mississippi river in search of shelter and food. As the sun rose behind the overcast sky, Tamy and I panned flocks of birds as they flew by. The wind hammered at our fingers and toes, but we were too ignorant to care... we were living the winter, enjoying the adventure, and running from depression.

©2000-2010 BTLeventhal.com / Bruce & Tamy Leventhal. All rights reserved. No image on this site may be used without permission

The Day After

On October 31, 1991 it snowed continuously for two days. Tamy and I were new residents to Minnesota... transplants from sunny Southern California. By the time it was all over, more than twenty inches of snow fell from the sky. Our Toyota pick-up truck was no match for the event, and we slid through every stop sign and traffic signal in an attempt to get to work. We were cold, miserable, and longed for the intensity of the West Coast sun. That was two decades ago, and this is today. 
History repeats... more than a platitude, it is a truth. It began to snow Friday evening and continued throughout Saturday. Armed with a Subaru Outback I navigated the blowing and drifting snow in attempt to ferry Tamy to work once again. Seventeen inches of packed snow accumulated in our driveway and now forms a mountainous pile that rivals an Everest Summit. It's cold... 5 degrees Fahrenheit... minus 20 windchill... Yes, history repeats... I now long for those warming rays of that West Coast sun.
About the Image:
This is "The Day After." Shot on Sunday at dusk, the wind was blowing from the North and I am standing in three feet of snow. The outside temperature is 5 degrees F w/ a minus 20 degree windchill. The Canon 1DsII is a remarkably resilient camera. Shot with a 50mm lens @ f11, I waited for the breeze to subside to produce a blur-free image. It was so cold that I could only managed to shoot four frames before packing up the gear and retreating to the warmth of my Subaru!

©2000-2010 BTLeventhal.com / Bruce & Tamy Leventhal. All rights reserved. No image on this site may be used without permission

Kenya 2010: Taking in the Long View

Safari is to adrenaline as waterfall is to tranquility... 
The rush of being face to face with the giants that inhabit the African savanna is a challenge for me to articulate. While our images often convey the majesty of these animals, they can lack my emotive response to the experience. The same can be said for the vastness of the African wilderness. 

A wildlife safari is the antithesis of a landscape expedition. Participating in big game safaris limits mobility, perspective, and point of view. Restricted to a vehicle and roads that cut through vast wilderness, this is no place for a tripod carrying photographer. With predators looking for easy prey, the soft flesh of a plump human might be an irresistible hors d'oeuvres for a hyena lurking in the bush. As a result, our African landscapes are often feeble attempts to document a sense of place. They, sadly, are made as an afterthought, a brief opportunistic moment, and during the waning seconds before meals.

After leaving Africa for the second time, I could not help but think about the missed opportunities. "What about the landscapes"... another error in judgement... another time?

I love landscape photography... 

In fact, I like to think that our photography is more about the place than about the animals who live there. It's the ecosystem that motivates my own vision. I strive to illustrate the tension between flora, fauna, and geography in an attempt to portray the conflict and harmony inherent in every living landscape. The way I see it, life exists on the edge defined by adaptation, change, and unpredictability; it is in the greater landscape that we can all peer into this reality of a vibrant and diverse natural world.

©2000-2010 BTLeventhal.com / Bruce & Tamy Leventhal. All rights reserved. No image on this site may be used without permission

Pattern Seeker

Both time and thoughts are dwindling as the 2010 Thanksgiving weekend fades into the past. Rather than bore you with trite platitudes, I humbly offer a few images from the holiday break.

Bone-chilling cold, icy snow, and bright skys defined this late November. As a result, I shot for drama rather than beauty. Strong directional light, deep shadows and aggressive post-processing yield graphic images with leading lines. Here the images trade beauty for a strong artistic statement.

©2000-2010 BTLeventhal.com / Bruce & Tamy Leventhal. All rights reserved. No image on this site may be used without permission