Timken Museum of Art
Back up your files. I could end this blog post with that obvious tip. Instead, I will save you an elongated cautionary tale and give you the Kurzgesagt version. My new, egregiously expensive computer suffered a RAID array implosion. It made my files unrecoverable instead of making my data more secure from failure (as designed). I had no concerns about my client's files as they are always backed up to a cloud and external drive. However, I was retooling my portfolio, and guess what? I didn't have it fully backed up. I imagined Mad World by Tears for Fears as the gravity of what I lost set in.
I spent the next few weeks recovering what I could from client Dropbox links. Large chunks were still missing until, by complete happenstance, I stumbled across an external drive with an earlier version of my portfolio. It was three subfolders down in an awkwardly named folder. For a moment, I knew what Travolta's character in Pulp Fiction felt when he opened the briefcase and golden light lit his face. Most of my portfolio was recovered, and I took stock of the remaining lost images.
One lost image was a shot I took of the Timken Museum in Balboa Park. I captured it with my 1Dx and 24-70mm lens. It showed the back of the museum with its rear entry illuminated and reflecting in a Koi pond. It was a good image, but not without issues. I recall capturing it too late into Blue Hour and overexposing some exterior lights. The image was also affected by a color temperature mix from the building's floodlights and park lamps. The photo would be the perfect candidate to revisit.
I packed the camera gear on a Sunday after the holidays and headed to Balboa Park. I arrived a little early, and the park was busier than usual. People were making the most of the last day of the holiday break. The weather was fantastic, with a light breeze. It was a stereotypical San Diego afternoon that would make Ron Burgandy proud. After a quick scouting session of the Timken, I made my way to the atrium of the newly rebuilt Botanical Garden building. The fresh interior and high-domed wood roof were stunning. A bustling crowd packed the building, but it still felt open and airy. While waiting for Golden Hour to start, I tucked into a corner and took photos of the enclosed promenade. Warm light poured through tall glass windows onto the walls and floor. Plenty of passers-by also noticed this and stopped for quick and not-so-quick selfies. Having time on my side, I waited and captured till I got what I was looking for.
After a few shots of the Botanical Garden exterior, I headed to the Timken to get set up.
Built around 1965, the Timken Museum of Art is an understated beauty—mid-century bronze and iron accent its bright marble walls. While the main entrance looks excellent, the rear of the building is the party piece. It sits facing the famous Balboa Park Koi Pond. The pond, which leads directly to the Botanical Garden Building, is an obvious but gorgeous shot you must take when visiting the city. It is a shame that the Timken gets overlooked when people pass it by heading to the bridge opposite the pond to get the reverse obligatory shot.
With the gear set up, I placed the lead tripod leg over the thin white rope that acts as a subtle reminder to stay out of the water. I opened the Cadrage app on my phone to preview focal lengths. I wanted to go with 35mm, but it didn't provide enough breathing room around the sides of the structure. I could have backed the camera up, but this would have placed me in the middle of a busy walking path. 24mm was the best choice for the situation. The next step was dialing in the composition. It would be a single-point perspective; however, I wrestled with where to place the building in the frame. I could have created a perfect 50/50 split with the reflection. A simple lens shift would do; I could click away and call it a success. The problem is, it didn't feel right. The water was moving a little, and I wanted to see if I could leverage it in the shot. The other elements I noticed were the tall palms in the background and the color of the sky. A split photo at my current focal length would cut the trees and the reflection in the shot. 17mm would minimize the building in the frame, which would not work either. I decided against the perfect split and placed the building just below the center of the frame. I could still see the complete reflection of the building and show enough of the silhouetted background palms.
More importantly, this simple adjustment gave the building a better sense of place. The subject isn't just a pretty building reflected in the water; it's all those things AND distinctly in Southern California.
With the camera locked down, I run brackets at 5-minute intervals. In between brackets, I would switch to a 1/15th shutter to capture pedestrians walking past. I watched as a couple walked into the frame and sat on a bench on the right side of the building. Another couple engaged in conversation entered frame right. A woman with deep red pants glided through the scene. I photographed them all. They each helped to build on that sense of place. The atmosphere was relaxed, and the crowds started to thin as fast as the light faded. I could hear people discussing dinner plans in Little Italy as they walked behind me. A painkiller at Kettner Exchange crossed my mind, but I refocused and captured another bracket. Behind me, floodlights popped on. It was not a problem, but it would be in about 15 minutes.
I quickly adjusted to slow the shutter speed as the sky's colors became more pronounced. After another bracket, I focus on the reflection as a couple of ducks swoop into the pond, creating a wake. I snapped a few slow-shutter frames. The disturbance to the water's surface was apparent but not distracting. More importantly, the reflection worked out better with how it softened.
As I snapped a few more, a toddler with her family walked to the water's edge and grabbed the rope. With both hands and a giggle, she started violently swinging the rope running right under my tripod. One bump and I can kiss any more shots goodbye or fish my camera out of the drink. I was already squatted, so I quickly dropped my knee on the rope, narrowly averting a calamity. The kiddo happily swung the rope for a few more minutes, lost interest, and moved along. The floodlights behind me began casting shadows on the Timken, and the mixture of color temperatures became a mess. I snapped a few more frames focusing on the interior light coming from the window line and packed it in.
Post-processing the image required a mixture of time-blending exposures, luminosity masks to recover key highlights, compositing, and Photoshop magic to achieve the look I was aiming for.
It's interesting to reflect on the creative growth between images. I enjoyed the chance to recapture a former portfolio piece, and now I'll add a few more to the docket.