I went to Thrive Yoga for my Saturday morning vinyasa flow 2/3 class just as the snow storm was hitting the DC area. There were treacherous driving conditions. I took my camera with me because I thought I'd try to take some cuts with a 50 mm f/1.8 lens, which gives some interesting effects. After about 15 minutes of practice, I stopped and picked up my camera to take some shots. I wish I hadn't. After about 20 minutes, I got back on my mat and I did not get into the full swing of the inspired vinyasa that Susan Bowen had put together.
During workshops, like the recent ones with Rumbaugh and Kest, the sessions are 2.5 hours long. There are natural pauses and interruptions. I sometimes need a blow. Even then, I felt that my mind was divided; that I was rushing through the shots without carefully surveying the full scene to capture the details in my mind before shooting; that I was skipping steps in making sure the camera had the right settings.
Norm classes are shorter (75-90 minutes) and the segments hang together more integrally. For instance, today, I missed a segment to loosen up my shoulders so I was not prepped for the segment on revolved bound side angle pose. On the other hand, taking good pictures requires concentration and patience to capture the right angle, light and pose. If I'm constantly thinking about when I should get back to my yoga practice, I am not giving the photography sufficient attention.
Lesson learned: in most daily circumstances, either practice yoga or take pictures; don't try to do both. I need my yoga just as much as I need to practice taking photos, if not more. I put an example of the shoot (on right) in this blog entry.
Bonus point: I did feel the difference for having practiced three days during the work week and doing some simple yoga on the other days. I also fit in a hot vinyasa class with Stephanie Rosenbltatt on Thursday so I pushed myself physically at least once during the week.
Let's just say that I appreciate the photographs of the Yoga Day USA event YoGA at MoMA. My problem when shooting at a yoga studio is that I have a limited range of angles from which to take a pictures, none of them giving me a wide shot that takes in the full array of yogis and yoginis. I also encourage you to take a look at the videos on Elena Brower's Virayoga. Elena was the lead instructor at the event, and has a beautiful practice. Better yet, I'll show it here.
At the Desirée Rumbaugh workshop, I was explaining my knee injury to Desirée and how I had recovered from the surgery. I told her that although the downtime from yoga had been felt, I did not look at it as a loss. In fact, it had helped in many respects; most importantly, it had allowed me to approach yoga from a beginner's vantage point. My muscles had softened, loosened up and become more malleable. I had to slow down my practice and become more aware and alert to what my body was telling me. And even though I was once again a beginner, I was not coming at yoga from the same point of five, six years ago. I had learned a lot about yoga; I was less fearful of "doing something wrong;" I understood the importance of consistency.
In other words, to paraphrase a quote from the Greek philosopher Heraclitus, you can never step in the same river twice; for other waters flow flow over you. And, for that matter, you are never the same person.
It occurred to me that this is good advice to any beginner (or practitioner). You have to accept the injuries, the illnesses, the interruptions in practice, as opportunities to approach yoga from a fresh angle. The lapses are also chances to emphasize the other aspects of yoga beyond the physical asanas: meditation, pranayama, seva. After "backsliding," the first reaction is to feel regret or peeved.
Tonight I went to a Hatha yoga class with Marylou McNamara at Thrive Yoga. Some practitioners would look down on it and consider it only appropriate for novices. I call the Tuesday night session my "remedial" class because it always makes me come back to the basics. Last night, Marylou gave a masterful class that was full of nuances and subtleties grounded in Anusara principles. These details probably went over the heads of most people there because of the peculiar vocabulary of cuing that Anusara instructors use and because their practice probably is not yet mature enough to recognize the ins and outs of this type of instruction, but the yoga still did them a world of good and they will reap its benefits, as I did.
I am unable to write any comments about the Desirée Rumbaugh workshop; just no time to string together more than a few lines. I have posted more photographs on the Thrive Facebook gallery. I was trying to take shots without a flash, relying on opening my lens as wide as possible. The more settings and options you have, the more likely you'll forget something or just get it wrong. Plus people are moving, which may complicate things with slow shutter speeds. In other words, I am saying that there's a high failure rate in these photographs. I might be able to rescue some of them with Photoshop, but it's a steep learning curve.
I went through the whole week, five days, topping each day off with a yoga class at Thrive Yoga. Today, I was unable to go to class -- for that matter, classes at Thrive were not offered. I guess I could say that my streak stands in tact because Thrive did not have classes. I doubt that we'll have classes on Sunday either, because the blizzard shows no signs of letting up and the roads are a mess.
These shots were taken at 3:00 pm and show my entrance way and the patio in the backyard. Not a few hours before, I had cleared out the sidewalk and access to the car for a second time today, but the blizzard had covered everything in three or four inches more.
Looking out over my neighborhood shows that the blizzard has hit hard. Not many neighbors have even tried to dig their cars out. For that matter, where would they go? The snow plow came through only once in the early morning. When it does again, we will have to clear out the parking slot again. Because this street is a cul de sac, the community association has to pay a private contractor to plow the road, and they are just as overworked as the street crews.
At least I got my exercise in for today. My back and shoulders ache, even though the snow is light and not packed. I suspect that we're going to be shut in for two or three days more. Of course, I am on vacation so snow emergencies do not do me any good.
Update: 10:30 pm I looked out my front door and the snow had stopped. No yoga classes tomorrow at Thrive. Will spend the day shoveling and hope that life starts getting back to normal. Now I will just try to be mindful in the silence.
At the Brian Kest workshop at Thrive Yoga a month ago, I took it upon myself to be the official photographer of the event. I took my Nixon D40 and kept it near my mat. A couple of times a session, I got up and took some photos, as many as I could because so many uncontrollable factors (and my own incompetence) can cross up a photo. You can see a selection of the shots at the Thrive Yoga Facebook photo gallery
Kest was cool with the distraction of a flash and shutter going off. Susan told the people that if they objected to any of their photos that showed up on Facebook, they could drop her an e-mail and we would remove it. I made a point of taking lots of shots of student greeting Kest after class. Several people specifically requested photos as mementos. Saturday class was more packed and it was really hard to move around. For the workshop weekend, I positioned my mat in a spot in the corner that allowed me a little more leeway because it was "leftover space" -- no one could fit another mat in there. On Saturday and Sunday mornings, it became so hot and humid that the lens started fogging up and everything took on a halo-like glow. I caught it on Sunday and could wipe it clean with a towel, but I was afraid that I would scratch the lens.
There were times when I did not feel comfortable taking pix. For instance, during the Long, Slow and Deep (LSD, get it!) session on Saturday afternoon. People were really zoned into their experience. Besides, by the time, we had actually tunneled into the sequence and deep restorative poses, I didn't know if I could get up. And if I got up, whether I would be able to get back down again and in the same mind and body set. I decided that meditative sets were off base (well, the whole practice is meditative, but you know what I mean).
I don't have any other lenses so I had no way to get around the limited anlges and focus depth. Susan had commented that I tend to show panoramic views of the whole (really a large segment of) class. I tried to focus in on individuals or smaller groups. As evident in this blog, I am working on a series of photos that concentrate on isolated shots, a hand, a foot, clasped hands in a bind. Rather than looking at the whole pose and the full practitioner, I am focusing on a small slice of practice -- a kind of drishti.
There is this obsessive idea of the perfect pose in much of the Western practice of yoga, that you have to get the alignment just right, find your edge with ease and grace. So we want to see lanky models pose with perfect lighting. That's why I like the isolation shots because there is no presumption of perfection. The foot of a novice on the mat is just as eloquent as the foot of a master. It tells a lot of things. My daughter, for instance, saw a picture of a foot and hand on a mat and immediately noted that the ball of the foot was slightly raised, putting more weight on the outer edge of the foot. In yoga, you're supposed to distribute the weight over all "four corners" of the foot.
I find myself really draw to this subject matter. In part, I am grappling with words to describe the experience and frequently coming up short. Photography offers another approach, more spontaneous, direct, succinct. But you're only working with the surface, which is only the first layer of the senses.
Taking pictures is a great excuse for stopping in the middle of a demanding vinyasa and taking a breather. It was a demanding practice so I welcomed the opportunity to get out of more hard stuff. I also welcomed the chance to get around and look at other people's practices more closely. It was enriching to see the diversity of experience and ease on display.
This past weekend, I participated in the multiple-session workshop of Brian Kest at Thrive Yoga. I had made a commitment to Susan Bowen, the studio owner, that I would take photos of the sessions, and I was really looking forward to the event. As it turned out, my brother died on the eve of the workshop. Since the funeral was not until the following Friday, I decided to attend. As I told Susan when I showed up on Friday evening, I wanted to celebrate my brother's life on the mat, just as I have included him as my yoga intention for the year.
In a way, the physical demands of the Kest workshop were just what I needed. The need to reach beyond my normal edge in my yoga practice meant that my body's messages overwhelmed the emotional pain of my grief. I had no time to dwell on his death, and when I got home, I had no problem sleeping. Yesterday, I felt so drained and fatigued that I did not go into work, and today, I am dragging again, but I believe it's more because of my grief and pain from my brother's death. Last night I could not get to sleep until 4 am.
Because of these considerations, I have not had a chance to comment on the workshop itself. It was just too difficult to focus on putting ideas down on paper. I don't think I can do more now than jot down some initial ideas and then come back later with something more substantive. Kest leads a physically demanding yoga practice, based on Ashtanga yoga but evolved over 30 years of his own experience. Susan had to wait a full 18-months before she could book a date for him, and we had many people from outside the Thrive Yoga community coming in for the workshop, some as far away as Florida. Many of the participants were repeats, either having taken a class, workshop or retreat previously. His most memorable line was "Some people bring their shit to yoga, and turn yoga into shit."
My son, Matthew, has been selected to show his photos in the Washington Project for the Arts's Options 09 exhibit, the 13th installment of the biennial show. He was one of the 250 artists that the WPA evaluated this year, ending up as one of the final 13 who will show. He's the only one who does not have formal art training (a Masters in Fine Arts) so it's his talent that's getting him in there. For the first time, he will be displaying his photos in the format that he originally envisioned them (larger prints, sparing no expense):
As a tradition, OPTIONS is a survey of the brightest and most talented emerging artists in the District of Columbia, Maryland, and Virginia regions and offers visibility for artists who do not have gallery representation. WPA originally developed the biennial series in 1981 with legendary artist Gene Davis and Washington Review Managing Editor Mary Swift as curators of the first WPA OPTIONS showcase.
This year, WPA is fortunate to have Anne Collins Goodyear, Assistant Curator of Prints and Drawings at the National Portrait Gallery, Smithsonian Institution, curate the exhibition.
The exhibit opens today at the Conner Contemporary Art, 1358 Florida Ave, NE,2nd Floor, Washington,DC, and will last through October 31.
Needless to say, this is a big breakthrough for him, and we're very, very proud of him. See his website.
The exhibit got a review in the Washington Post's Weekend supplement: "Other surprises: the sheer amount of painting. Work by Johnson, Mullins, Kim Manfredi and Polly Townsend may give hope to those who have heard rumors of its demise, and the shortage of great photography. True, Ren, Matthew Smith and Matthew Wead all contribute interesting photographic works. But where are the others?"
My family has been in an extended debate about what the last enigmatic line means?
Star-Telegram.com Fort Worth Cats perfect their best yoga poses:
The pitching thing did not stick for Gulledge, even though he struck out two batters in a perfect inning, but the yoga has. Gulledge noticed in the off-season that he was faster. "Unbelievably faster," actually. He said his endurance and flexibility improved, too.
I can't resist it &mdash another sports story about pro athletes taking up yoga to give them an edge in their competitive game. This time it's a minor league team in Fort Worth, Texas. This time, the middle-aged sports writer puts down his pen and joins the mini-session before a ball game. Like the previous story, this has photos, too.
CharlotteObserver.com Mary Lou Buck's yoga journey:
Buck, now a petite 72-year-old with silver hair, would become one of Charlotte's pioneer yoga instructors. After teaching and studying for years, she opened the city's second private studio, Yoga for Life in Dilworth, in 1998. Phyllis Rollins opened the 8th Street Studio believed to be the first, in 1993.
Who says you can't start something new late in life? Buck founded her studio in 1998 when she was 62 years old, but had already been teaching since 1980. She still teaches even though she just sold the studio. Even more intriguing, Buck lives in North Carolina, not one of the hotbeds of yoga in the country so she was a pioneer in a region where it was not trendy to take up yoga.
Be sure to take in the accompanying photographs of Buck's class.
I was following John Friend's twittering and came across a link to this shot. Twitpic has several other shots of massed yogis in formation. Awe-inspiring gatherings that project channeled prana. Friend is on tour, currently in Canada, putting on workshops for Anusara yoga teachers.
As a hack photographer, I am fascinated by shots of yoga practice, both the group sync and the individual pose. John -- or his people -- have many opportunities. It's a lot harder than it looks because the photographer has to capture the instance of grace in poor, indoor lighting, and frequently in movement.
When I bought my camera last week, I had a twinge of hesitation, even reluctance, and it was not just because it was almost four hundred dollars more on my credit card. Getting into serious photography means that I have to devote time to learning how to use the unique technology encased in SLR cameras. Sure, with default settings, I can take dramatically better photographs than with a point & shoot camera, like my Sony Powershot A630. But when I get into more challenging shooting environments, like inside studios, then it becomes more complicated to get the right settings. I've been winging it so far, and then hoping to correct any flaws in lighting, hue, contrast or saturation while retouching the digital photos on my computer. That brings me to the second cause for reluctance, learning how to manipulate digital photos in Adobe PhotoShop (for serious professionals) — or Corel Paintshop Pro (for amateurs who wanted a full-featured application) in my case, at least for the time being — without turning them into garish reflections of the real thing.
I don't think that it's exceptionally hard to get the basics of photography: it just requires setting some time (hours, days, man-years?) aside to read the manual, supports sites, photography blogs, etc. and then apply the skeleton of a knowledge system while the ideas are still fresh in the head. I frequently will do the research, but then not find the time to apply the tips and tricks soon enough to consolidate the lesson. With a number of pending projects and to-do lists, I don't need another major task, but it looks as if I have done just that.
This became apparent to me after my latest round of shooting yoga poses at Thrive Yoga. Using my son's Nikon D90, I was able to shot more richly detailed photos and not have to worry about being out of focus or poorly lit. But once I got back home and worked with the material, I began to see shortcomings and flaws. First, rather than using the built-in flash, a separate, stronger flash bounced off the ceiling would have produced much better lighting. Second, another lens or two would have allowed me to have more variety in my angles and scope. Those two points can add nearly $350-500, minimum, to the price tag of this "hobby."
As to the initial hurdles of getting on firm footing with manipulating the digital files, I probably should have a couple of chats with my son, Matt, who has gone well beyond the initial steps of mastering digital photography.
Nikon D40 with standard kit lens AF-S DX 18-55mm f/3.5-5.6G ED II
This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution ShareAlike 2.5 License
I gave in to an impulse and bought a Nikon D40 SLR camera this weekend at Circuit City (liquidation sale, so a full $100 off its retail price). After using my son's camera, I amazed by the major improvement in quality of the photographs over my Canon P&S (Point and Shoot) camera. Because taking pictures of yoga is like a sports shoot since there's a lot of movement involved and it almost always takes place inside dimly lit studios, I saw obvious need for an SLR camera if I was going to be serious about capture the moment, and now compromising to get a half-assed shot. I chose the DX because it was the most inexpensive, entry-level model of the Nikon brand, and I can borrow lenses and flash from my son to give me a little more flexibility on a short budget.
I don't expet to be as good as govindakai's photostream or even Alan Little, but it is just a major plus for web development and blogging. I was influenced to get the D40 (aside from my son's own preferences) because Ken Rockwell recommended it even over the more advanced Nikon and Canon models.
Last weekend, I took some shots of the YogaUSA Day event at Thrive Yoga. It was a packed house, 64 people signing up online. Susan Bowen led the session. I think some people got a bit freaked out by so much attention (a photographer shooting every few minutes). Admittedly, no one came expecting to have their practice immortalized. Most people were there because the class was free, and Susan was just hoping that a few of them would come back for more.
I was using my son's Nikon D80 SLR camera, which was a real treat. I now understand why attempting to take shots of yoga practice with anything but an SLR camera is tough, almost a guarantee of amateurish shots. Yoga is like any sports activity: you need a fast shut time, a sensitive CCD and the ability to modify the RAW file in Photoshop (or similar application). I've been working with a Canon compact, which is fine for tourist shots, but for anything moving at real life speed.
Thrive Yoga is offering a $69 unlimited month yoga pass promotion. She made a good point explaining the offer to the people at the event: you have to give yoga some time to see if it can work for you. The first couple of sessions, you're looking around at the other people, worried whether you're holding the pose correctly, fidgeting in your clothing, and trying to figure out the audio cues that the teacher is giving you. Meanwhile, your body is complaining after the session that unusual demands were being placed on it. You need a couple of weeks to get over the initial shock and awe, and then take a more balanced assessment of how yoga affects you.
Proof that I was actually in Spain (Segovia in this case), not at a meditation retreat in Nepal. My wife can take credit for this photograph.
This weekend I went to Susan Bowen's vinyasa class on Saturday and Sunday. I also put in an hour on the elliptical trainer and the treadmill at the gym so I feel that I have gotten back up to speed on my yoga and conditioning after my vacation break. It may be a while before I am up to full strength because I still feel the fatigue in my shoulders from lots of planks, Four-Limbed Staff Pose (Chaturanga Dandasana), and Upward-Facing Dogs (Urdhva Mukha Svanasana). On Saturday, it was a student's birthday so Susan made us do 40 vinyasas to honor her.
This 10-day process to get back into my exercise routine drives home a simple lesson: the mature adult's body takes a long time to adapt to more rigorous and skilled endeavors. I started running nine months ago, but seriously only less than six months ago. I should lower my own expectations about what I can achieve, both in the short and the long term. Instead of thinking about having lost training time due to my break, I should look at the two weeks as an opportunity for my body to relax and chill out. Although I can run three miles, it does not mean that I need to do it, especially given the wear and tear on my muscles after years of inactivity. I need to incorporate ample recovery time so that I don't stress my body too much. Hints of shins splits are a clear warning in that respect. It's not like I'm on a training schedule for a half-marathon (or any competition, for that matter).
I think it's been providential that I got into yoga before running. My gradual learning of yoga allowed me to ramp up the physical demands on my body gradually while enhancing my body awareness. Yoga's emphasis on breathing gives me a value instrument for measuring exertion while jogging. I've been using the ChiRunning technique of Danny Dyer to give me a training method in keeping with my yoga approach. I've actually had to teach my legs and core how to run, and that's included some minor pain as muscle groups have found new uses.
Labels: breathing, class, conditioning, photos, running
My son, Matt, had another set of photographs on public display at Artomatic, the yearly, month-long, DC-area multimedia free-for-all that fills up an empty office building with the creative work of hundreds artists of varying degrees of accomplishment and invention. The show will be taken down tomorrow so we went to see it this evening since our travels had prevented us from taking it in sooner. Matt had to put in his time as a volunteer at the event (a requirement of all participating exhibitors) but he got away from a few moments so that I could snap this picture of him.
Matt drew a lot of attention, apparently, and I had feedback from a friend who chanced upon the exhibit and thought it was really good. Matt also got a favorable review by Mark Power (his photography teacher so he may not have been completely impartial, but probably sensitive): "His work may not have been the "best" photography at Artomatic but I liked it the best." According to the exhibit rules, Matt had to design, build and set up his exhibit himself so he invested a lot of time getting the show ready, even learning how to frame pictures. As I mentioned here previously, he was in an photo exhibit in March.
I thought his photos were quite inventive and the triptych plus one format created a kind of graphic language that tapped into quotidian objects for resonance and irony. Matt had never shown any "artistic" tendencies in childhood; he had plenty of potential as a writer. His training as a geographer (cartography, remote imaging, and other graphics) probably opened him to more visual expression. He's mostly self-taught, except for a few classes that he's taken recently.
My son Matt 
had one of his photographs selected for a collective exhibit, Photography Exposed, by dcist. There were over 600 entries by 200 photographers and 60-some photos were finally chosen. The exhibit opened last night.
Matt's been working with photography for a couple of years and he's taken a couple of courses. It's become one of his creative outlets, and he's invested a lot of time, thought and money into it. For his birthday two weeks ago, we (including Stephanie) gave him a Nikon lens. This is the first time that he submitted his work for public viewing. You can see more of work at Flickr.
The opening took place at the Civilian Art Projects, just off the DC Mall. The place was packed, and there was a line that went down two flights of stairs and around the corner in the rain because the gallery could only hold so many people. I suspect that not all of them came to see Matt's work. When you have several scores of aficianados showing their works, they tend to invite a lot of friends and family. Stephanie and her steady squeeze Ron showed up as did several of Matt's house mates.
The exhibit will be shown until March 15, 2:00 pm to 6:00 pm, Wednesday to Saturday. If anyone is interested, you can buy the photo for $135. The selected photo is below. All rights reserved.
For the past two weeks, I've been thrown out of my normal routine of work, yoga and blogging. For the past week, I took a vacation with my wife going to Canada and visiting my old home town in Niagara Falls, New York. In Ontario, we were staying at a resort that was 90 minutes north of Toronto, in the north woods, so there were no studios nearby. We had only limited access to Internet, just enough to check the e-mail and our bank balance. There was a fitness center, swimming pools, jacuzzi and sauna so we did take advantage of the facilities. Even though it was supposed to be the peak season for the foliage, the extended dry summer weather meant that few trees had changed colors. That was a disappointment. While we were there, the weather broke a record for warmest day by over 10 degrees. We made a quick, two-day excursion to Quebec, which required too much time behind the wheel driving, but allowed us to see the picturesque wonders of Ville de Quebec and Montreal. If I were to recommend one place to see in Canada, it would be Quebec. Canada has become a lot more expensive than it used to be because of the falling value of the US dollar.
I had not been back to Niagara Falls in 43 years so practically no one that I knew from those days is still around. I wouldn't even know how to contact them. The city has fallen onto hard times, with its old industrial base (chemicals) gone obsolete, the Air Force base closed and nothing has moved in to provide a solid economic foundation for the area. There's a lot of urban rot in the city, despite the need to keep the area neat and clean to attract tourists. I visited my old home and was struck by how small it all seemed. I remember my yard being huge; in my childhood, I organized infantry charges across its expanse. My elementary school had been demolished so that piece of my memory is gone. My junior high (Gaskill) is now a private prep school; it still looks the same. The church where my dad pastored is now home to another denomination. I was expecting to have a bout of nostalgia, but it all seems so remote because I left the town when I was 14 years old.
Teresa and I spent a full day taking in the sights on the American side of the Falls. We went on the Maid of the Mist boat outing below the falls where you really feel the force of nature all around you. We visited the museums and historical displays because I wanted Teresa to understand the cultural context in which I grew up; I loved to study the history of the region. Even though it was a weekend, we did not have to fight crowds. I know that I never spent that much time sightseeing when I lived there in the 1950s and 60s. We hit the Canadian side of the falls, which has a much better view of the Falls than the American side, when we came back from Ontario on the following Saturday.
The week before, I had a flare-up of my sinus infection that left me voiceless and groggy. It felt as if needles and pins were piercing my throat any time I tried to swallow. I got to see my doctor quickly and was prescribed another two-week round of antibiotics. Within three days, I was feeling a lot better, but by then I was packing bags for Canada. I have a sneaking suspicion that the repeat was due to my sinus not being completely cleared up the first time, that having my sinus infected so long made it especially hard to clean out all the infection.
For those who like to peek in on other people's practice, check out the photographs at Yoga is Youthfulness, a San Francisco-area Ashtanga studio.
Labels: photos, yoga_resource
