Tuesday, April 28, 2015

Harper Thomas Murphy (H™) is born! :: documentary photography :: viewer discretion is advised

When friends or family show me their JC Penny-like newborn portraits; photographs of their new bundles of joy, I ofttimes fantasize about sucking the cold blue steel, the business end of a .45 Smith and Wesson. #JustSaying . . .

WTF?! You Say?

I'm horrible, I know. So sorry to hurt your delicate feelings. 

You know exactly the suicidal emotion I've just described. Don't lie. You'd just be fooling yourself. Not only do you know that horrific visceral feeling described but each and every one of you know the photos I'm talking about. At this very moment you have a mental picture of the picture.

It's your best friend. Your cousin. Your neighbor. It may be you.

"You gotta see the baby!"

"Maybe the dingo's ate your baby."

Seinfeld reference. Couldn't help myself. Fans are laughing their asses off at this very moment. Thank you Elaine.

Where was I? Ah. JC Penny. The poor kid is popped in front of a muslin and some stuffed animals. Lighting about as interesting as the dried skin between my pinky toe and whatever the next toe is called. Add some Gaussian Blur to make a shitty shot even shittier and presto. The most beautiful baby who happens to be the smartest baby, immortalized by the wet behind the ears photographer at JC Penny.


Excuse my candor.

Be it for a client or personal project, I typically like to color outside the lines. . . creatively speaking that is. It takes balls but that's the only way to separate yourself from the heard in the world of art.

As I do for the client and portfolio work, of course I'm gonna go against the grain when it comes to the birth of my child - my first child.

"Roads? Where we're going we don't need roads." 
-Dr. Emmett Brown

This would be the approach, then, now and always. Kind of a stretch on a familiar Robert Frost quote but that would have been too expected. 

The Idea

Documentary style, all the way. 

As for the law? Ummm. Let's just say that if you take the raw docu route that I've taken, with your camera . . . do so at your own risk. 

Balls people.

Without Further ado . . . 

1. Already over 24 hours into labor, I wait while I sympathize as Stefanie's contractions are pretty intense by now ::

2 & 3. Just an awesome analogous dichotomy. H™ (Harper Thomas Murphy) is born April 23, 2015 18:16 EST. 2.99kg and 49.53cm ::

4. It's official ::

5 & 6. Under what resembled heat lamps at an all you can eat buffet, H™is weighed and measured ::

7. H™'s vital signs are recorded ::

8. Mommy gets put back together ::

9. That magical moment ::

10. After an exhausting 30+ hours, H™ and mommy rest ::


Without beating around the bush? Beating around the bush. Get it? Never mind.

I threw White Balance right out the window! On many shoots, I use the Kelby technique to find mid tone grays to correct for jacked up white balances.

On this day? Not a fucking chance.

Although the room was sterile, I wouldn't have the photographs shit the bed in this mundane mode.

On this day, I wanted to embellish the vibe of the different areas of the hospital in a cinematic way.

The birthing suite. Cool and cold tones. To achieve this, I pulled back the Kelvin temperature to a super chilly 2500°K.

The, I don't know what to call it, the weigh station? Carry little weight, I had to try and let the french fry warmer play. Futile attempt but the power from the sordid incandescents would work just fine.

Bedtime. Those wood paneled walls were screaming for my attention. Holy shit. With the tungsten light bouncing from those specular panels, the warmth, the texture, UHH, I was in heaven! Need I say more?


I'm tired. Need a nap.

More to come. Stay tuned.

Until next time . . .