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Little Paris

2012-05-12T18:29:42Z

The city of Dresden is known as one of the most beautiful places in Germany. And it absolutely is. However, most people know Dresden for what they think of as the old part of the city. There is the Frauenkirche and the Zwinger and all that magnificent architecture. There is the Elbe River with its steam boats and lots of other places to plentiful to mention.

But there is also another part of Dresden on the other side of the river that few tourists ever get to see. It's called "Neustadt", the new town, which is misleading because historically it is actually the oldest part of Dresden. It's where everything started about 800 years ago.

Today, Neustadt is a bustling place looking very much like certain parts of Paris and it's inhabited mostly by young people with a pretty liberal disposition. Consequently, you get to see things that seem rather un-German and exotic, which is exactly what makes this place an absolute treasure for street photography.

I went there just a few days ago and came back with more respectable street shots than I have produced in the last two years put together.

Here are some of the better ones.

Wait a Second!

2012-05-06T21:47:51Z

Usually, I download pictures I took during the day the same night. I also edit them right away and post the best ones on Flickr, 500px and Facebook. I'm kind of an instant gratification guy that way.

But then I hear people say, "You need to let your pictures rest for a while!", or "Give it a few days before your edit." I never understood this type of comment. Why the hell would I wait? I'm here, the pictures are here, my laptop is here. You are here. What's the point of waiting?

That's still the way I feel, by the way. But I do concede, that there are some pictures I shot years ago that I never bothered editing, because I didn't think they were worth it. And now I think they have potential. And then, of course, there are those that have always been great, like the one above. They are so great that I keep going back to them and re-edit them in some way to make them even better.

This shot was probably one of my first real street photos ever. I remember how it happened as if it were today. I was roaming the streets of Berlin, somewhere in the Checkpoint Charlie area. I look around for interesting things. I turn my head to the right and BAM, there is this cop with his twin daughters. I can't describe the rush of excitement I was feeling. What a shot! What a freakish coincidence! What an opportunity!

I run after them because they are quite a ways away already. I crouch down on the street and rack my zoom lens all the way out to 135mm. Aim, focus. Click!

I knew it was a great picture, immediately. Coincidentally, it was also the moment I realized who I wanted to be as a photographer. I knew it right then. I didn't have to wait or contemplate it. I knew it! And I know now.

So there. If you want to wait for goodness, do it. I prefer to create it and then share it. Life is for living. :)

People

2012-04-17T18:47:39Z

When it comes to photography I keep getting back to people. I do landscapes, I do architecture, even flowers and animals. But at the end of the day, it's always about people. They interest me, I wonder about them. Where are they going? What are they thinking? How do they live?

That's why public transport is so interesting to me. There you get the full brunt of a city's real soul. Because that's the ultimate test, isn't it? You are all together in a very confined space. How do you behave? How do you cope and how do you deal with others?

Are people edgy and protect their personal space or are they accommodating and think about others more than they do about themselves? It's those key questions about any society, big or small, and they are answered withing seconds on any bus, tram or subway train.

And it's not just that. Public transport is full of stories. People's stories. Passengers, drivers, service people, just everybody. I like reading those stories in their faces, clothes and behavior. It attaches me to them and the city they live in. And if I'm lucky enough I am holding the camera up at the right moment.

Romeing

2012-03-04T00:03:54Z

What a city!

I have been to Italy many times in the past, but never made it farther south than Milan. And while northern Italy is also Italy, it's worlds apart from Rome. It's a different part of the country with different people and a different way of life.

You expect the capital city to be enormous in proportion. And yes, there is a metro, tons of buses, even an unexpected tram line. Yet, the best way to explore Rome is by walking. I suggest to get the sights out of your system during the first two days. Do the Colosseum, the Spanish steps and Vatican City.

Then let it all go and just stroll. Enjoy the parks, venture into the northern parts of the city that tourists rarely go to. Wander through those quiet side streets and forget your map and GPS. You can't get lost in Rome. At the end of the day you will always magically wind up in the center, where it's loud and bright and an orange juice costs more than your daily food allowance back home.

I must have spent 100 Euros for food and drinks on my first day in the city. That's before I discovered where to eat and where not to. There is a surcharge for everything in Rome. Even food you never ordered, like that fantastic white bread that comes in a basket. They just bring it out. You touch it, you buy it. And if you like cocktails, you better bring a wad of cash. Oh, and notice the short pause the bartender takes to think of his answer after you ask him for the price of your drink. That's the time he needs to make one up. He doesn't think about the cost of the ingredients, you see. He looks at you to figure out how much you can afford. So dress down if you're thirsty.

The X100 - Pain and Bliss

2012-01-21T17:57:45Z

It is the latest addition to my camera bag - the Fuji X100.

Six months I had battled with the decision of whether I should spend a thousand Euros on a quirky camera. And I am still not sure. But the money is gone and so I'm making friends with this thing, this prima donna , this nuisance, this marvel.

It lacks everything I had in my old compact: reliability, functional certainty, simple operation, a zoom lens, sufficient battery life, small size, and resistance to abuse. Yet if gave me the most important thing a photographer can hope for: stunning pictures.

But the joy is conditional. You have to coax the X100 into compliance, you have to stroke it and talk gently to it, whisper a compliment at the right moment and pull its chair out.

Just last night it drove me crazy. I sat in a restaurant with a friend and wanted to take her picture, because the light was so beautiful and she looked nice. The first picture came out completely dark. I couldn't see why. Second picture, same thing. I checked all the menus. Nothing. Third picture: starry night. The moment was gone, my friend started eating and I ordered another cocktail to wash down the disappointment.

After the meal I looked at the camera again and saw that the shutter speed dial had accidentally moved from the automatic setting to 1/4000th of a second, the position right next to it. This could never have happened with any camera I have ever owned and it is only one of many steps in the painful learning process that comes with the X100. You literally have to unlearn many of the things you took for granted and give in to the new rules.

Once you do, a new world opens up to you. It's like records and mp3s. It's the same music, but it sounds better.

Between China and Japan - Part 1

2011-10-25T00:38:02Z

“I’ll give you a seat in the front row with more leg room.” This was the first sentence I ever heard from the mouth of a real-life Korean person. The words were spoken by a female airline attendant at Frankfurt International Airport and not only contained cheerful news for my body, but a powerful message from the center of the Korean soul: “We don’t know who you are, but we will go out of our way to help you.”

It’s hard to describe Korea to Westerners. It’s even harder to explain why one would go to Korea, voluntarily no less.

While Korea has its place in the North American culture, most of Europe, including my German homeland, is largely oblivious to the existence of this far eastern nation. Even if people were able to find the country on a map, they most likely would have no idea about its culture. In fact, they would be hard pressed to imagine what Korean people looked like or what currency they used.

When making arrangements for my flight to Seoul, I began researching online to see if German travel companies offered any package deals I might benefit from. I found offers for Thailand, Vietnam and China. Korea, however, was nowhere to be found. Finding a travel guide in a bookstore proved equally impossible.

As disappointing as this was, it was also a good sign, because it meant that I was very unlikely to encounter large groups of German all-inclusive tourist or any establishments catering to their needs.

I booked a ticket with Asiana, a Korean airline, and decided to begin my trip in the capital city of Seoul. It made sense at the time to start with the biggest city and that hunch proved correct.

The flight from Frankfurt to Seoul was by far the quietest and most relaxed air travel experience I have ever had, certainly after 9/11. The Korean cabin crew’s attitude can only be described as restrained and respectful. No barking orders, no “You need to buckle up, Sir!” There was not even a safety briefing, or if there was one it was so unobtrusive as to be invisible. In short, I was left in peace.

Sleepless in Korea

2011-10-21T21:25:10Z

It's 5.30 in the morning and I'm sitting in bed, my back propped up against a wall with a pillow wedged in between for comfort.

I've been in Korea for a week now, but the jet lag is taking its time to subside.

The bed I'm sitting in belongs to a small guesthouse in Gyeongju, a town in the southeast of the country. Gyeongju is one of the oldest cities in Korea and known for its cultural treasures, temples and tombs.

For me coming here is more of a break from Seoul, the place I spend most of my time at in Korea. I love Seoul, yet the big city hustle can take its toll and at some point you just need to get out for a while. The other reason is the family that owns the guesthouse. It's really their private home and they provide some of the rooms for people to stay in, so it all has a very personal touch to it. Sometimes they even make dinner for everyone.

I like these people for their warmth and readiness to accept complete strangers into their house. And there are quite a few now, about 6 or 7 Korean girls and a guy from France who lived in Korea for a few years and now returned for a nostalgia trip. I love those trips, too.

The Mallorca Chronicles

2011-09-20T23:18:12Z

This is a story about my trip to Mallorca, last February. I haven't had a chance to publish it yet, but here it is now. Enjoy!

The German winter of 2010 had been early, cold and unbelievably snowy. In fact, no one could remember ever having seen so much snow in my area. City streets were flanked by ploughed-up banks of snow so high you couldn’t see over top of them. Every now and then these banks would be interrupted by comically car-shaped hills, containing someone’s Volkswagen or BMW. People could be seen digging holes where license plates would be, in an effort to make sure that excavating the rest of the vehicle was time worth spending. Suffice it to say, the Germans were challenged that year and rather unimpressed by the effects of global warming.

By February 2011, the snow had all but melted and temperatures had settled in that strangely uncomfortable range just around the freezing point. While that’s rather mild for February, it is decidedly too cold for me. Two months in the white hell had eaten at my coping skills and my stiff upper lip had chapped. It was time to make an escape.

There aren’t too many options for really warm weather in Europe at this time of year, unless you want to spend five hours on a plane flying to the Canary Islands, where it’s always warm. But then, being located off the West coast of Morocco, the Canaries don’t really qualify as part of Europe, in my view.

Southern mainland Spain is always a possibility, of course, and I did contemplate it. With daytime temperatures safely above 15 degrees Celsius, it certainly qualified. However, there is a particular place in Spain that I had heard countless reports of, but never visited myself: the island of Mallorca.

I am not a mainstream person by any means. If everyone goes crazy about something, I will reliably pass. So, places like Mallorca usually don’t hold much interest for me. But the prospect of a short two-hour flight and a favorable weather forecast changed my mind. I was willing to give it a whirl, started my research and picked a small town on the island’s southwest coast called Paguera.

Unbelievably, 350 Euros (about $450) bought me a full week of accommodation at a 3-star hotel, including breakfast, roundtrip airfare and bus transfer from and to the airport. I have no idea who benefitted from this deal, other than me, but apparently someone did.