I've recently been working on growing a section of the portfolio.
Currently, It may or may not be called, Dudes Drinking In The Studio.
Why? Why not?
On occasion, I have a friend or two over to the Fishtown digs and once the spirits begin to flow, the DiBruno's cheeses begin to disappear and the sounds of Jack White begin to vibrate the walls, I know it's time to document who passes through.
Recently, Poppa Murph made his way through the studio.
Who?
That's right. Poppa Murph. My father, Tom Murphy. Funny thing. Growing up I always thought his full name was Murph Murphy. What did I know? Everyone called him Murph so that must have been his full name.

We had a dinner for Poppa Murph's big 60th birthday. Yes. 60th! We have awesome genetics. What can I say?
Between my wife and I, our first baby daughter, Harper Thomas Murphy, his first grandchild, will be blessed with beautiful genes. Lucky girl. Ha.
There it is. The first official name announcement.
I digress.
So the booze were flowing. Oh, yeah. Not my normal style but I had to commit a sin and bring Miller Lite into my home. No worries. I didn't drink any of it. I stick to my guns and drink only the finest craft beers of the planet. To each his own though.
My flavor was Philadelphia Brewing Company's Harvest From The Hood. The brewery is seconds away and even better, the hops are grown locally by Greensgrow Farms. I'm a big supporter of local.
Come on dad! Get with the program!
Where was I? Oh yeah. The booze were a flowin'. Both of us huge fans of Jack White, had Lazaretto cranking through the Bose sound system. Rare but on this evening, I even turned on the subwoofer.
Our wives, Margie and Stefanie were chilling in the living room as Murph Murphy and I hit the studio.
In advance, I knew we'd end up shooting a tiny bit so I advised him to bring a golf club and maybe some other golf related props.
The man golfs (doesn't look right. Is it golves?) more than I breathe. Pretty effing awesome if you ask me.
Me? Golf? I never learned formally but it's on my high priority list. I mean I could hit the ball with good form but I'm just not as awesome at it. Some time at the range would help.
Fuck. Sorry. I digress. Again.
The Shoot
I don't like these shots to be perfect. I like to show the edges of the muslin and the bamboo floor of the studio. In post, as the first shot shows, I may or may not crop for something more formal.
Currently, It may or may not be called, Dudes Drinking In The Studio.
Why? Why not?
On occasion, I have a friend or two over to the Fishtown digs and once the spirits begin to flow, the DiBruno's cheeses begin to disappear and the sounds of Jack White begin to vibrate the walls, I know it's time to document who passes through.
Recently, Poppa Murph made his way through the studio.
Who?
That's right. Poppa Murph. My father, Tom Murphy. Funny thing. Growing up I always thought his full name was Murph Murphy. What did I know? Everyone called him Murph so that must have been his full name.

We had a dinner for Poppa Murph's big 60th birthday. Yes. 60th! We have awesome genetics. What can I say?
Between my wife and I, our first baby daughter, Harper Thomas Murphy, his first grandchild, will be blessed with beautiful genes. Lucky girl. Ha.
There it is. The first official name announcement.
I digress.
So the booze were flowing. Oh, yeah. Not my normal style but I had to commit a sin and bring Miller Lite into my home. No worries. I didn't drink any of it. I stick to my guns and drink only the finest craft beers of the planet. To each his own though.
My flavor was Philadelphia Brewing Company's Harvest From The Hood. The brewery is seconds away and even better, the hops are grown locally by Greensgrow Farms. I'm a big supporter of local.
Come on dad! Get with the program!
Where was I? Oh yeah. The booze were a flowin'. Both of us huge fans of Jack White, had Lazaretto cranking through the Bose sound system. Rare but on this evening, I even turned on the subwoofer.
Our wives, Margie and Stefanie were chilling in the living room as Murph Murphy and I hit the studio.
In advance, I knew we'd end up shooting a tiny bit so I advised him to bring a golf club and maybe some other golf related props.
The man golfs (doesn't look right. Is it golves?) more than I breathe. Pretty effing awesome if you ask me.
Me? Golf? I never learned formally but it's on my high priority list. I mean I could hit the ball with good form but I'm just not as awesome at it. Some time at the range would help.
Fuck. Sorry. I digress. Again.
The Shoot
I don't like these shots to be perfect. I like to show the edges of the muslin and the bamboo floor of the studio. In post, as the first shot shows, I may or may not crop for something more formal.
Lighting? The born again (thanks to my mediocre handyman skills) 28 inch Westcott Apollo softbox with a 430EX ii Speedlite firing inside at 1/8 power ratio.
Exposure looked like this ::
Shutter :: 1/100
ISO :: 200
Aperture :: f/11.0
Here I'm almost at a black canvas to start with just teeny tiny hint of ambient to contaminate from above and on the muslin. . . which I dig. Can't really see it on these. Hmmm. Maybe I had the dimmer down lower than usual.
I worked with my love, Betsy (Nikon D4). She was rockin' a super sexy set of carbon fiber legs by Feisol.
The glass to top her sexy body? Nikkor 24-70mm f/2.8G ED. I typically have the camera height about mid torso range when shooting for the Dudes Drinking In The Studio series. Ha! You don't hear about much camera height discussion in photography blogs.
Well, there you have it! Enjoy!
Stay tuned for more visual deliciousness.
Happy birthday Dad!
Until next time. . .