The Magic Of The Light
Leonard Misonne (1870 - 1943), a master pictorialist photographer who employed many process and techniques through out his career, championed a diffused printing system and light quality. One glance at his work affirms the undeniable: Misonne knew light.
Though but a novice at photography myself, I nevertheless sense an ethereal presence in the light of early morning and late afternoon. Even as I compose this piece, dancing images of my own attempts--some in rain, some in dark, none in noonday bright--flick across my computer screen. Surprisingly, dawn and dusk have stamped unique personality and character onto ordinary subjects.
--A drab monarch butterfly, long past his glory days of summer, absorbs a final spurt of brilliance from the radiant reds and yellows of Regina garden mums.
--Shadowy figures circle a roaring campfire, oblivious to what only the camera sees: faint traces of orange left by sparks flying through enveloping blackness.
--Five-score leaves scattered over the surface of shallow pool paint the full panoply of fall color within the reflection of an overcast sky. And the central presence of a single scarlet sweet gum leaf lends uniqueness to the assembly.
--Slicing a patch of morning sun with its shadows, the quizzical angles of a stool's legs and cross members frame a curious cat in likewise quizzical stance.
--A tangled jungle of monkey grass, leaves overlapping and entwined, conceals all but the two golden eyes of a kitten at a game of tiger in the grass.
--An unremarkable neighborhood feline, the golden glow of early rays trapped in his outline of fur and whisker, radiates a resplendence worthy of the king of beasts.
Well known contemporary photographer John Sexton acknowledges the importance of light to his life's calling. "It is light that reveals, light that obscures, light that communicates. It is light I 'listen' to. The light late in the day has a distinct quality, as it fades toward the darkness of evening. After sunset there is a gentle leaving of the light, the air begins to still, and a quiet descends. I see magic in the quiet light of dusk. I feel quiet, yet intense energy in the natural elements of our habitat. A sense of magic prevails. A sense of mystery. It is a time for contemplation, for listening--a time for making photographs."
In this season of my life--well past noon but not yet dusk--laying hold of meaningful evening light demands increased sobriety. Jesus' proclamation, "I am the light of the world," thus assumes a more reverent and reflective application to my own unique circumstances: the object is nothing; the Light is everything.
Copyright 2003 James McAlister
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