War of the Worlds Made People Fear
This week, my photography class assignment includes playing with depth of field and motion. To use the full range of settings, I have to use a tripod. I dislike tripods; I find them bulky, awkward and moment spoilers. The logical me knows having three more legs is a good thing, so I am slowing making friends. But, the pod is not helping me make new friends.
Old Town Alexandria Pier, Wednesday, September 20th, 5:45 pm
In Alaska, I loved the piers. Full of colorful fishing, tourist and ancient oil boats, plus floats, ropes and brooms. The Alexandria piers are a little more proper. Everything is blue. I am a bit uninspired and set up to take a picture of a flag flapping. I adjust the settings, then blur and stop motion, light changes, do it again. I notice a young guy walking down the pier toward me. I smile but look away quickly. He has a badge. I instantly get nervous. It’s a public pier; I am not doing anything wrong. Am I? He fiddles with some ropes for a while, but he is watching me. I get more nervous and try to look casual. I do an outfit check; I should wear less black the next time. Maybe put my hair in a bun. He’s now just a few feet from me.
“Oh, phew. You made me nervous. I thought someone was on that boat. That you were taking pictures of someone on the boat. I thought, oh no, not someone on the boat.” He is wearing a navy blue baseball hat and matching windbreaker. Looked about twenty.
“I’m just taking pictures of the flag for photography class, no people." People scare me.
He stood there for a several seconds watching me snap several frames. Was he waiting?
“We have to take pictures of motion – and the flag is blowing in the wind. See. ” I point nervously. Why am I nervous?
“There are flags over there, on the main dock, up on poles. Really big flags."
“I like this flag, if that’s okay.” I look at him, slightly more confident because I said I liked an American flag.
His smile is pained now, like he ate bad noodles. “Okay then. Okay.” He pauses again, but then turns and walks off, fiddling with ropes along the way.
I take a few more pictures and realize this flag is lame, very boring. I pack up and walk off the dock. The baseball hat is at the base on the pier, pretending to tie a knot.
Hirshhorn Sculpture Garden, Thursday September 21, 2006, 8:30am
The National Sculpture Garden is closed at 8:30 am, so I end up at the Hirshhorn Garden. Not that it’s second best; it’s just sunken down a level and has less light. I walk through on a scoping mission, eyeing the level of the sun. I pass the security guard on the down ramp. I get nervous again.
“Morning!” I smile big.
“Morning.” She grins a little and nods.
Phew, I calculate that I should have more photo options in about a half an hour. Up above, I try taking pictures of a red steel sculpture, but I need stilts to get the angles and background I want. I want the Washington monument between two parts of another sculpture, but I would need to dig a hole for that. Then I notice a sprinkler! The sun highlights the water drops, five different sprinklers crisscrossing around a sharply angled black sculpture. I scoot quickly, but pause when I notice the suits. Five people are standing in a line, getting their photograph taken. About 20 times. When they finish, I find a place to set my bag, I unclip and start freeing the three, two-part legs. Fwwap, snap, fwwaaap, snap. It’s too short, so I hoist up the neck. I click the camera in and hear pssssbbbb. The sprinklers stop. Waahh. Then they start again, Yeah! Oh, it’s just a quick spit. Waahh. The maintenance man is watching me. He goes back to painting orange circles around the sprinkler heads once I put the tripod away.
I head back to the garden and find a manless coat sculpture. I set up the tripod again, with the fwaps and snaps. Because it’s in the corner, I don’t have enough background to really play with depth of field, but I like it anyway.
Then the security guard approaches. “Excuse me maaaam.” She’s walking through alternating sun shadow streaks. It’s quite dramatic.
“Yes?” Guess what, nervous again.
“You can’t have iPods in here.”
My iPod was in by backback. Did I have it on when I came in? “Sorry, an iPod?”
“The pod.” She points to my tripod.
“Ohh, the tripod. Sorry, it’s just for photography class.”
“Did you get permission? You need permission to use the ipod, sorry tripod.” She puts her hand on one hip, but is not hostile at all. Actually quite sweet.
I’m tempted to lie, but I can’t of course. “No, I didn’t. Umm, do you know why?”
“Why what, mam?”
“What I can’t use a tripod?”
“It’s just Hirschorn policy.”
I have been through this one before. I say, sorry, okay, thanks and pack up. I wander through the garden, sighing about photos not taken. When I come out, the security guard is smoking and talking on the phone. I’m convinced it’s about me. Just outside the Hirshhorn, I see a moving truck and take a few pictures. The guard turns and stares at me. So maybe taking pictures of a massive moving truck right near the capital is a little odd. I take note of my outfit, mostly black again – shoes, long sleeve shirt, purse and camera.
Eastern Market Metro, Thursday September 21, 12:30pm
While waiting for the metro, I snap a few slow motion shots. I like them, so I pull out the tripod. This time, I know it’s probably not allowed, but the station is quiet and I am harmless. After the sixth train, I relax a little. A few riders look oddly at me, but most smile. Three more trains pass and then I hear it.
“Maaaaam.”
I turn and look. Metro security lady, bright red lips. “Maaam, you can’t take photos here. I got a call from the headquarters, they told me to come down and let you know.”
“Sorry, it’s just for a photography class.” I am dismantling while she watches.
“Yeah, but you can’t take photos in here. One of the drivers must have seen you and called headquarters. It makes them really uncomfortable.”
I feel bad. “Sorry again.”
Then a few other riders on the platform chime in “well, it’s understandable with everything that’s going on” and “it’s just for security reasons” and “of course”. The added commentary annoys me a little, but I just get on the train that thankfully just pulled up. When I get off at Woodley Park, I look everywhere for signs about photography and can't find any. I am inspecting the information station when I see two metro agents both looking at me, then just outside the toll gates, a metro police officer. I am officially extremely paranoid. I try not to look at the police man as I walk past. He says something to his headset. I’m sure it’s about me. I review my outfit again, in addition to the black; I am wearing 11 inch wide bell bottoms and I have a few worn patches in my brown corduroy shirt. Maybe it’s not my tripod, maybe I need to go shopping.
Old Town Alexandria Pier, Wednesday, September 20th, 5:45 pm
In Alaska, I loved the piers. Full of colorful fishing, tourist and ancient oil boats, plus floats, ropes and brooms. The Alexandria piers are a little more proper. Everything is blue. I am a bit uninspired and set up to take a picture of a flag flapping. I adjust the settings, then blur and stop motion, light changes, do it again. I notice a young guy walking down the pier toward me. I smile but look away quickly. He has a badge. I instantly get nervous. It’s a public pier; I am not doing anything wrong. Am I? He fiddles with some ropes for a while, but he is watching me. I get more nervous and try to look casual. I do an outfit check; I should wear less black the next time. Maybe put my hair in a bun. He’s now just a few feet from me.
“Oh, phew. You made me nervous. I thought someone was on that boat. That you were taking pictures of someone on the boat. I thought, oh no, not someone on the boat.” He is wearing a navy blue baseball hat and matching windbreaker. Looked about twenty.
“I’m just taking pictures of the flag for photography class, no people." People scare me.
He stood there for a several seconds watching me snap several frames. Was he waiting?
“We have to take pictures of motion – and the flag is blowing in the wind. See. ” I point nervously. Why am I nervous?
“There are flags over there, on the main dock, up on poles. Really big flags."
“I like this flag, if that’s okay.” I look at him, slightly more confident because I said I liked an American flag.
His smile is pained now, like he ate bad noodles. “Okay then. Okay.” He pauses again, but then turns and walks off, fiddling with ropes along the way.
I take a few more pictures and realize this flag is lame, very boring. I pack up and walk off the dock. The baseball hat is at the base on the pier, pretending to tie a knot.
Hirshhorn Sculpture Garden, Thursday September 21, 2006, 8:30am
The National Sculpture Garden is closed at 8:30 am, so I end up at the Hirshhorn Garden. Not that it’s second best; it’s just sunken down a level and has less light. I walk through on a scoping mission, eyeing the level of the sun. I pass the security guard on the down ramp. I get nervous again.
“Morning!” I smile big.
“Morning.” She grins a little and nods.
Phew, I calculate that I should have more photo options in about a half an hour. Up above, I try taking pictures of a red steel sculpture, but I need stilts to get the angles and background I want. I want the Washington monument between two parts of another sculpture, but I would need to dig a hole for that. Then I notice a sprinkler! The sun highlights the water drops, five different sprinklers crisscrossing around a sharply angled black sculpture. I scoot quickly, but pause when I notice the suits. Five people are standing in a line, getting their photograph taken. About 20 times. When they finish, I find a place to set my bag, I unclip and start freeing the three, two-part legs. Fwwap, snap, fwwaaap, snap. It’s too short, so I hoist up the neck. I click the camera in and hear pssssbbbb. The sprinklers stop. Waahh. Then they start again, Yeah! Oh, it’s just a quick spit. Waahh. The maintenance man is watching me. He goes back to painting orange circles around the sprinkler heads once I put the tripod away.
I head back to the garden and find a manless coat sculpture. I set up the tripod again, with the fwaps and snaps. Because it’s in the corner, I don’t have enough background to really play with depth of field, but I like it anyway.
Then the security guard approaches. “Excuse me maaaam.” She’s walking through alternating sun shadow streaks. It’s quite dramatic.
“Yes?” Guess what, nervous again.
“You can’t have iPods in here.”
My iPod was in by backback. Did I have it on when I came in? “Sorry, an iPod?”
“The pod.” She points to my tripod.
“Ohh, the tripod. Sorry, it’s just for photography class.”
“Did you get permission? You need permission to use the ipod, sorry tripod.” She puts her hand on one hip, but is not hostile at all. Actually quite sweet.
I’m tempted to lie, but I can’t of course. “No, I didn’t. Umm, do you know why?”
“Why what, mam?”
“What I can’t use a tripod?”
“It’s just Hirschorn policy.”
I have been through this one before. I say, sorry, okay, thanks and pack up. I wander through the garden, sighing about photos not taken. When I come out, the security guard is smoking and talking on the phone. I’m convinced it’s about me. Just outside the Hirshhorn, I see a moving truck and take a few pictures. The guard turns and stares at me. So maybe taking pictures of a massive moving truck right near the capital is a little odd. I take note of my outfit, mostly black again – shoes, long sleeve shirt, purse and camera.
Eastern Market Metro, Thursday September 21, 12:30pm
While waiting for the metro, I snap a few slow motion shots. I like them, so I pull out the tripod. This time, I know it’s probably not allowed, but the station is quiet and I am harmless. After the sixth train, I relax a little. A few riders look oddly at me, but most smile. Three more trains pass and then I hear it.
“Maaaaam.”
I turn and look. Metro security lady, bright red lips. “Maaam, you can’t take photos here. I got a call from the headquarters, they told me to come down and let you know.”
“Sorry, it’s just for a photography class.” I am dismantling while she watches.
“Yeah, but you can’t take photos in here. One of the drivers must have seen you and called headquarters. It makes them really uncomfortable.”
I feel bad. “Sorry again.”
Then a few other riders on the platform chime in “well, it’s understandable with everything that’s going on” and “it’s just for security reasons” and “of course”. The added commentary annoys me a little, but I just get on the train that thankfully just pulled up. When I get off at Woodley Park, I look everywhere for signs about photography and can't find any. I am inspecting the information station when I see two metro agents both looking at me, then just outside the toll gates, a metro police officer. I am officially extremely paranoid. I try not to look at the police man as I walk past. He says something to his headset. I’m sure it’s about me. I review my outfit again, in addition to the black; I am wearing 11 inch wide bell bottoms and I have a few worn patches in my brown corduroy shirt. Maybe it’s not my tripod, maybe I need to go shopping.
at
2:13 PM
14 Comments:
Hi Lisa, I like all of those photographs
Love, Dad
By
Anonymous, at 9/21/2006 5:37 PM
Thanks Dad!
By
L, at 9/21/2006 5:51 PM
That's the price you pay for freedom. I really like that last one in the metro station.
By
Anonymous, at 9/21/2006 9:44 PM
I hear you with the tripod dilemma. Glad you are using a short lens. Start carrying a card or some 3x5s of your work. If you have something to give people they will be less hostile. Public spaces where you can't photograph or people proclaim rules: When I'm really annoyed about this, I joke these situations off-- turn to the large street car audience and ask them and make some funny comment-- or sometimes I talk to my dog-- out loud. Difuse the situation; own it- when you can. And also walk away, searching for different light. Make sense?
By
Anonymous, at 9/22/2006 7:14 AM
So, it's the tripod that really gets people? As if someone who is going to cause destruction is really going to use a tripod to snap photos of their intended target.
I too like the photographs!! Nice work Lisa!!
By
Anonymous, at 9/22/2006 9:47 AM
terrific photos and text - creepy orwellian stories. i love the first pigeon photo and the metro photo - i like the innovative way you see things.
-randy
By
Anonymous, at 9/22/2006 10:37 AM
Yeah - a couple times I thought, if I was going to do bad things, you think I would set up a tripod and sit for 30 minutes, knowing full well I am on camera somewhere. That said, what a perfect disguise, a clueless photography student!
The Photoshop effect I used on the flag was called ‘dark shadows’
Noah – what is exactly that you say to your dog? “Sonoma, do you hear those people talking? I don’t.” Maybe I should pretend to have a dog, and talk to that pretend dog.
By
L, at 9/22/2006 10:57 AM
I liked the flag and the effect...it makes it look almost comic book like...
I like the truck one too all the angles point towards the monument...very cool
and the metro one I just like the coloured lines :)
By
Anonymous, at 9/22/2006 11:34 AM
the train and the flag are really nice photos.
It made ME uncomfortable to read how anxious you were getting when guards came around. why are you so insecure?
By
Anonymous, at 9/22/2006 12:51 PM
Glad I can transfer the moment with my writing. I will take that as a complement.
However, you have misread paranoia as insecurity. I am a rule follower (to a certain extent) – and don’t get enjoyment from a scolding. I like rules to have reason – and when they do, I respect them. Yet, these days rules are unposted, new or at times made up just to manage an uncomfortable situation. When I see a uniform, I wonder which unknown rule I have violated.
That and a security guard once took my stuffed husky, pulled off it’s paw, pushed a pencil in the hole and ran around the museum singing this verse over and over again:
“Who's the swiniest swine in world?
(Captain Hook! Captain Hook!)
Who's the dirtiest dog in this wonderful world?
(Captain Hook! Captain Hook!)
Captain of villainy
Madder and loot lout
Eager to kill any
Who says that his hook isn't cute!
(It's cute!)
Ahahahah!”
By
L, at 9/23/2006 12:21 PM
Oh - and everyone else - thanks a ton for your compliments!
By
L, at 9/23/2006 2:50 PM
how crazy! you should submitt this log to the city paper! This is the perfect DC story--nothing posted on "rule" but if you are doing something different, something people might not be use to, you get told there are rules...they can't be broken but, you can't know what they are until you break them. Can you imagine what it must be like to be a foreign here...you don't realize that you've broken a rule, you didn't see anything posted but you have someone telling you (in another language) that you are bad...very bad. How horrible it must be.
By
Anonymous, at 10/03/2006 5:22 PM
According to someone on flick, the rule is posted on their website. However, when I went to the link - it wasn't working.
Again though a tourist isn't going to know - but I suspect that they deal with it as it comes.
(2) Still photography that does not require a tripod, special lighting, film crews, models, impair the normal ingress/egress or operation of Authority services and can be accomplished by a hand held camera by one person is not regulated. Requests for photographic access that involve a camera crew of three or less, two pieces of lighting equipment or less, does not involve the use of a tripod, does not require assistance of Authority technical personnel or significantly impair the normal ingress/egress or operations will be allowed. Requests for a permit must be made two working days prior to the requested date of photography. Photography and filming that requires the use of models, special lighting equipment beyond two pieces, tripods, assistance and supervision from Authority staff, crews of more than three, or that impairs ingress/egress or normal system operations shall be governed by Section 100.8(a)(i). Television and newspaper press crews of five or fewer individuals and without any "plug-in" equipment are not subject to this regulation.
By
L, at 10/04/2006 4:44 AM
Lisa,
The flag picture was pretty cool, almost looks like a painting. I really like the train shot. Do you remember how long your exposure was set for? Pretty cool stuff.
Not sure what size tripod you use; assuming a typical full size one. Dad got me a small one for hiking, but is pretty cool for odd positional shots.
Sorry to hear about all the bad luck with places who do not allow for tripod & cameras. Might have something to do with the zoom lenses you can buy these days. To get a good 300 - 500 zoom shot you would need a tripod.
By
Anonymous, at 10/16/2006 11:17 AM
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