Ampersand

Early in my foray into photography, I received a request to photograph the old Union-Tribune building. It was a quick CRE photoshoot. I refer to them as run-and-guns. There's no time to scout; you're walking with a broker who is always late for something, and you must assess, compose, set up, and capture photos rapidly before you get left behind. At the time, it was par for the course and a trial-by-fire way to cut my teeth in CRE and Architectural photography. I admittedly was pretty green then, but I would focus and learn from every shoot to never stop improving. I'm deliberately never complacent (see: stubborn), and I still maintain that practice today.

The old Tribune building had a dice roll of random surprises for me. One suite was a dated office space, and the other was a shell space with no working lights and construction materials all over the floor. I barely had time to snap a slow shutter to compensate for the lack of light. The final suite threw me for a loop—the set of a local news station. Looking at the scene, I had my first brush with the Dunning-Kruger effect. (The overestimation of ability in an area where I lack knowledge or skill). The studio lights were blindingly bright, the background was Vanta Black, and the anchor desk was covered in glossy materials. My camera effectively looked at me, shrugged, and said, "I don't have a clue." Out of the corner of my eye, the broker checked his phone for the time. With the clock ticking, I could only think of running a wide bracket and HDR the Hell out of the shot later. Thankfully, I've grown my skill set considerably since then, and my current compositing workflow is dramatically different now. Needless to say, those early pics were fine but underwhelming.

One of the great things about CRE photography is that buildings and spaces can change. Sometimes, they are reimagined entirely. This was the case when I received a request to photograph the Union-Tribune building again a couple of years later.

The two-building project had been home to the San Diego Union-Tribune since 1973. Around 2015, it was sold, and the Casey Brown company gave it a massive glow-up. A significant amount of thought went into the renovation. Colorful art adorned the walls. Branding & thematic elements flowed throughout the project, including the underside of overhangs. It encourages visitors to look up—those who do notice the glass walkway connecting the two buildings. Everything from the lighting fixtures to the landscaping was well thought out. This was someone's passion project, and it showed.

The photo request was eerily similar to the original—another run-and-gun dash through multiple suites. Having a few years of photography experience for the brokerage, I negotiated a little more time in each space, making it clear that more time equals better photos. The project would still be comically fast-paced, but at least I would have 10-20min per suite vs. 30 seconds. In line with my previous visit, the spaces were random and awesome. The first was a test kitchen and company headquarters for a fast-casual restaurant. The second was a legal firm with great office design. A conference room that would fit perfectly at the UN was next, followed by a massive cafeteria. I wrapped the interior shots, again wishing I had more time. The shots were good, considering the time allotted. I knew the broker would love them, but I felt I could do better.

It was midday, and overcast clouds were moving in from the coast. Exterior shots were next up. I negotiated with the broker, requesting some time to scout and wanting to revisit for golden hour. He made a few phone calls with the property owner, and I was given the green light as long as I could deliver the final shots soon after. I got to work lining up a few test shots of the second building. Originally a 3-story brick building, "The Press" had its center mass blown out for an open courtyard. A glass and steel gangway connecting the structure's north side was suspended on the third floor. The courtyard was flanked by floor-to-ceiling windows on each floor. The glass line gave way to vibrant murals at the far end. A few minutes in, I already knew the shot I wanted. I spent the following hour scouting and packed it in. The cloud layer was getting thicker, and the light was fading. The broker needed the shots by week's end, so I would have to get lucky by the next day, or it's off to sky replacement city.

Here's a quick tip for anyone getting into the genre: If you're replacing a sky in your composition, pay attention to the direction of the light source in your scene AND the sky you are adding in. We've all seen those insane, overprocessed residential photos. The building is practically glowing, the saturation is cranked to Wonka levels, and they almost always have a sky on LSD added in. The most troubling part is when the light source in the sky is polar opposite to the light direction of the scene. Your brain is forced to do mental gymnastics, and you end up with the uncanny valley sensation. If you need to replace a sky: 1. Select a sky that keeps the light facing the same direction as your scene or at least close. 2. Keep it subtle. Try not to oversaturate or add a too-intense sky for the scene. All this does is draw attention away from the subject. Imagine a "the more you know" star, and let's move on.

As luck would have it, the next day was shaping up beautifully. I returned to the site well before golden hour and set up. I began by shooting in the space between the two buildings, focusing on the elevated walkway and pass-through. The accent lighting had just switched on, adding additional visual interest. Afterward, I shifted focus to a few standard marketing shots of the buildings. Think of cardinal angles showing scale, space, and proximity. The sky lit up as I was wrapping the last coverage shots. High-elevation clouds were illuminated from the west as the sun lowered toward the horizon. While this photoshoot was a couple of years after the original, it was still relatively early in my career. My gear was reflective with a mid-range Canon DSLR and a series of workhorse lenses. Missing from this were tilt-shift lenses. They were simply out of reach at the time.

I was lamenting my lack of bespoke equipment as the sky put on a Southern California masterclass of gorgeous. I backed up further than usual, desperately trying to capture more of the sky in the photos. I picked up the tripod and headed to the Press building's open courtyard. Lamenting my equipment would have to wait as there were more images to capture. I positioned myself toward the back of the courtyard, looking north to the gangway. The interior lights were beginning to get brighter. The glass line became less reflective, and I could start to make out interior details. Every 5 minutes or so, I'd run a bracket with the intention of doing some nifty time-blending in the final composite. Sunset turned into the early blue hour. The light from the sky and the property were beginning to balance out. With the occasional shutter click to break the silence, a line from the A-Team popped into my head. "I love it when a plan comes together." I hummed the theme song while reviewing another few shots. Ten minutes later, I packed it in. There were a couple of late nights of editing ahead to hit the deadline. Admittedly, I am a night owl who drinks enough coffee to make the Starbucks siren blush. I was looking forward to the edit. The photoshoot became one of my early favorites, and I came away with one of my top ten favorite photos.