On a bright fall afternoon in 1986 I stood on the banks of Lagunitas Creek at a bend we locals call White House Pool. My 35mm camera was on a tripod. I felt a mix of emotions­–elation as I watched this rare occurrence of popcorn clouds reflecting on the still waters below and fear that what I saw was just too much to express with an image made with my camera.

It had been three years since I had decided to dedicate my life to becoming an artist/photographer. Most of that time was spent in mastering the technical aspects of photography. Now, hesitating, I wondered if I would have something worthwhile to say. So, as I stood on the banks of the river with a magnificent tableau begging to be photographed, the time had come. It was as if God had reached down from the clouds to shake me by the shoulders, saying “Well, what are you waiting for?”

So, I went for it. When I first saw the scene, the water was still with the clouds mirrored below. As I looked through the lens, a gentle breeze started, slightly rippling the reflections on the water. I made a horizontal photo first, and then quickly turned the camera for a vertical shot. Click. Suddenly, the wind intensified, erasing all the reflections. The scene was gone!

Back in the darkroom I looked through the wet film as it hung drying. The beauty of the light pouring through the reversed image was extraordinary. I looked forward to printing the positives. When the first prints appeared, almost magically from the development tray, I began to feel hope that I finally had something to say, to show. Next I would have to decide which of the two compositions I would put out into the world.

I decided to feature the vertical and began making prints. Clouds, White House Pool (vert.) became a  signature photograph of my early landscape work. It provided entry to Viewpoints Gallery curated by the late Lee Flynn. Lee took me on as a featured photographer and gave me my first exhibits.

Clouds, White House Pool (vert.) began to sell. Limited-editions went out to the world. It was used as premium during a fund-raiser by the Bolinas Museum, and was the featured artwork used to promote the West Marin Music Festival. It opens my book, Point Reyes 20 Years.

Meanwhile, Clouds, White House Pool (horiz.) the first exposure I made that afternoon, became an orphan. A few miniatures and a couple of numbered prints were sold early on. I began overlooking it and I stopped showing it. 

The other day, a visitor to my gallery who had seen one of the rare horizontal miniatures, asked if I could make a print for her. I located the negative and as I made her print, I wondered why this beautiful image had been abandoned. Had I chosen the wrong version to feature in my catalog? As I worked on the orphaned print I became more and more drawn to it. Memories of that afternoon, so long ago, flooded me. I decided to add it to my catalog and made a large version for the front window of my gallery.

So now, I’d like to know—which one do YOU like best? Please take a closer look via the links below. Write to me here: marty@martyknapp.com., or post your comments on this blog page. I’m all ears, and if you don’t mind, please tell me why you prefer one over the other!
Clouds, White House Pool (horiz.)
Clouds, White House Pool (vert.)

It’s that time again. I’ve reviewed the photographs I made over the last twelve months to come up with my personal favorites to share with you. View the complete Favorite Photos 2019 Collection. 

As you’ll see, I’ve spent a good deal of time wandering among the trees, letting the light lead me to discoveries. In January I met an old friend, Riggy Rackin, masterful english concertina performer, who led me on a special walk above Rock Springs on Mount Tam. I looked skyward to make the following photograph:

Most of my photographic wanderings occurred not far from my home. In fact a couple of my favorites were made on walks along the Green Bridge Trail, right next to our home. They ended up in my recently published book, One Place Deeply.  The one shown below was made a few days after the summer solstice in 2019.

In Jenner, California I met my friend Jim Wehlage and walked a darkened trail down to a rock outcropping above the sea.  Shown here is a time exposure of the Milky Way rising above the rocks in the star-splashed sky. 

Lately I’ve been looking much closer at the flora along the trail. During a recent frosty morning, I was drawn to a gesture made by a pair of leaves in the early morning sun.  Another morning a frozen teasel beckoned.

I hope you enjoyed looking at these photographs. You’ll find more of my macro plant images in the Close-up Flora Collection.

In Spring, 2011, I began photographing the views along the Green Bridge Trail, a loop trail in the wetlands near my Point Reyes home. My photo walks soon became a daily ritual. As I continued to photograph in this park, I became intrigued with its many facets which changed with the seasons, hours of the day and weather. It became clear that this seemingly obscure area would reveal unexpected treasures if only I would continue to take the time… to pause… and to look deeply. In the back of my mind I entertained the idea of some day publishing the fruits of my walks in a photo book.

In November, 2018 I was invited to show my photography at Marin Civic Center’s Bartolini Gallery. With the idea of a future book still in mind, I chose to show a series of images from my walks in the park. The show was named One Place Deeply: Walking the Green Bridge Trail. Buoyed by the positive response to this exhibit and after a second showing of the work at Toby’s Gallery in Point Reyes, I began working in earnest on the book.

Using the exhibit as an outline, I expanded the number of photographs for the book. Selecting the finals from over one thousand images made during the previous eight years was an arduous task. Finally, this November, the book was published. It bears the same name as the earlier exhibit: One Place Deeply – Walking the Green Bridge Trail.

The book, mirrors the exhibit, but doubles its scope. The original exhibit featured 34 photographs, the book has 63. The series of images flow in thematic sections like the show: Invitation, Portals, Mystery, Frozen, The Creek, Abundance & Intricate Design. The following are my musings on the making of the photographs featured in both.

BEGINNINGS
In 2011, Jean and I rented an old family home on the doorstep of the wetlands behind Point Reyes Station. My proximity to the wetlands provided many hours of meditative photography. I walked the loop trails there on hundreds of occasions over the years and continue to do so these days. On mornings, as Jean lovingly prepared our breakfast, I was free to explore the light with my camera. That was just one of the many ways, she helped make the creation of this book possible.

When I first wandered into the wetlands behind Point Reyes Station in late spring of 2011, it was the exquisite details on the dew-drenched flora I found along the Green Bridge Trail. I sometimes became lost is reverie as I studied nature’s glory through the magnifying lens on my camera.

PORTALS
After a while my focus turned away from close-ups of the light sparkling on the plants to broader views I found along the maze of trails there. Openings in the willows bordering the creek fascinated, drew me in. As I walked I noted that the sun’s angle changed views dramatically as it coursed through the seasons and the hours of the day. At times I felt I had entered a landscape for the first time, even though I had walked into it countless times before.

ATMOSPHERE
I visited in times of frost, fog and sun. Each atmosphere changed the character of the views I found. I acquired a small, pocketable but very powerful camera. It liberated me from the constraints of carrying a heavy tripod. Who would have thought that the digital revolution would allow such freedom of movement! Reacting to changing light, I repositioned myself for much more spontaneous photographic creativity!

RETURNING
One foggy morning the details of nature’s intricate patterns drew me closer. This time, though, I needed my tripod to steady the heavier camera and macro lens attached. On a spider’s web I found dewdrops like pearls strung opulently and lit softly through the mist by the sun’s rays. On another morning, as the fog lifted, I found a gossamer web decorated with a spare arrangement of drops that still confounds me whenever I look at it

I found myself kneeling close to where I had started in these wetlands… photographing again the magnificent world of the very small. I thought of William Blake’s poem, which is featured in the end piece of my book:
To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.