... or maybe just liquid
Seeing Through a Glass
The March Print of the Month (or thereabouts) is more about liquid as opposed to liquid light in January. I took this photograph from my favorite lunch hangout in the Pike Place Market. Even though the name changed to "Sound View Cafe" a decade or two back I still call it the "Soup and Sandwich Manufacturing Company" It's on the level just below the main arcade and (obviously) looks out over the harbor.
I'm getting ready for my show of prints from "Scene Through a Glass" project at the local community center in Burien next month. There will be an opening on the first Tuesday -- I guess that's April 2 from 6-7:30 p.m. If you happen to be in the area ....
Climate Control in the Darkroom
The cozy little darkroom is in one corner of our double garage. It shares the space with the furnace. My plan was that there would be enough stray heat from the furnace to make such a small space habitable in our mild winters. I even put in a couple of extra vents between the furnace enclosure and the darkroom to let more stray heat in. The problem with this approach is that the house is very well insulated so --- the furnace seldom runs once the house is up to temperature first thing in the morning. I had to get a small electric heater.
Speaking of Getting Ready for a Show
I have just finished, well nearly finished, getting the work ready for a retrospective show of photographs and other art by my late and seriously missed friend, Joe Budne. Unless I miscounted (not impossible) there will be 72 pieces in the show. Joe, who died a couple of months before turning 96, was a photographer as well as skilled in etching, drawing, and water color. In addition he was a wizard art director and editor with an eagle eye. This show will be at the Mirabella retirement complex in downtown Seattle -- corner of Denny and Fairview. There will be an opening -- in early April. Call Mirabella for details.
The email newsletter from the Peter Fetterman Gallery in Santa Monica (a serious treasure trove of wonderful photographs, by the way) mentioned a new book about one of my heroes, Willy Ronis. Ronis' negatives and archives went to the French state upon his death in 1999. When the donation was originally arranged in the 1980s, Ronis prepared a set of albums of what he considered to be representative of his even-then long career. He continued to photograph until 1992 and added several more albums to the original set. The new book reproduces the entire set of albums -- nearly 600 photographs -- along with brief descriptions by Ronis of what/where/when/why and how he printed them. The book weighs a bit over eight pounds -- not good for reading in bed.