The Hydromancer
Twas’ a frosty weekend’s photoshoot. 28 degrees air, and 48 degrees water with a brisk north breeze. No matter your pursuit or tolerance for cold or icy water, this was cold by any standard, especially for bare skin, submerged for 20 minutes. But winter water means clear water, and a clear winter sky in the Pacific Northwest means cold air. Jill summons up a strength seen in few that allows her the ability to steady herself and focus into the images. Put your head under water sometime in the above mentioned conditions, then show me a calm and focused look while you hold your breath, dive down, compose and do it again, and again, and again.
This series takes another step toward the ethereal. Lore. Myth. Magic. “The Hydromancer” is the title of one image, but really canvases them all at the same time.
The Hydromancer, lamp in hand, illuminates her path as she wanders the sea in search of kindred connection to both elements and life. She is seen here as both being silently observed, and as being aware of being seen....and thus inviting the viewer to join her in the abyss. Colors and tones also evoke connection to the primaries seen in the Lion's Mane jellyfish as seen from underwater.
We’ve shared a lot of ideas about the use of props for storytelling, themes and vibes to convey. But this shoot was essentially only Jill’s vision and direction: The lantern, the choice of colors and the stories behind the images to be captured.
We go over these ideas and concepts in the days leading up to a shoot. And then once on site and on shore, we talk through the ideas in more detail. Like, angles for shots, how close we will be (choice of lens), angles of light, etc. But once in the water, things always change. Currents, water clarity, sunlight - or in this instance, also buoyancy. This particular outfit was extremely hard to keep submerged and also tangled up in her legs making swimming difficult. So then we adjust accordingly - me swimming about looking for interesting angles or moments, while Jill does the hard work of staying composed in the middle of frigid chaos. Trying to look cool while your fight or flight reflexes are on active stand by is no easy task.
And final notes on this (and all of these.) Jill is not my “model.” She is my friend and my artistic collaborator. There is a difference. We make these photos together, the way a band makes music together. I don’t hire her to sit still and pose for a portrait. She has to work incredibly hard to make this look so seamless. So while I do compose, shoot and edit the photos - her role is extremely physical and creative in this. That’s what a collaboration is. It is doing the work together.
A Life Well Lived
84 years young, Michael Powers is a household name in Half Moon Bay. His home…well…the campus…his home and several others he built with his own hands, stands as a beacon of an era. It all began circa 1968 and crept out from there. Recycled woods from all manners of things; an old water tower, a bowling alley, fences, barns, you name it. An artist and adventurer, Michael still lives on the fringe of society, eschewing anything normal for the riches of empathy, the outdoors, deep human connection and all mediums of art. It was a treat to get to follow him around for a bit and see it all through his lens.
Behind the Curtain
I thought I’d take a moment to share a little bit of the “how its done” here. It’s not voodoo. But there is, maybe, a touch of magic that has to be present.
Let’s start with the environment.
Upwards of 98% of the swim-art photos I shoot are taken off Owen Beach at Point Defiance in Tacoma, WA. We may shoot anywhere along the beach, including the tip of the point off the clay banks. And sometimes far enough off shore to be in 200+ feet deep of water (max depth in the channel is around 550' feet, give or take.)
It is tidal salt water and the water temperature spans about 48 degrees at the low and maybe 55 in the height of summer. That is always radically influenced by tide too, and the deep channel that keeps a lot of cold water. In some areas not far away, long, shallow sea floor shelves might bank up a lot of solar heat and keep a water temp as warm as the low 60’s. But for all of these shoots, we are generally in an area that will stay about as cold as these local waters will be.
If we elect to go closer to the tip of the point, we’ll usually be going after images that include bull kelp (when in season). The point also tends to carry a pretty healthy seal and sea lion population. And in some years we might even get a roosting Bull Stellar sea lion. Looks like that might be the case this year. When that is true, I tend to avoid the point and give a wide berth to the resident bull. That’s a big animal and very territorial. They move about and stake their claim in different spots most seasons, with a few exceptions. Just a couple of weeks ago, a bull showed up just as we were entering the water. He swam aggressively back and forth, posturing and putting up quite the display. That is, until a female swam by and distracted him. But 20 minutes later, he was back, just as we were wrapping up and exiting the water.
Choreographing the shoot.
Since these shoots feature “no wetsuits”, we don’t get a whole lot of time to waste. So we’ll often sit and talk about a plan before we get in the water. I’ll look at the overall conditions….water clarity, overhead sunlight or clouds, current, wind and surface conditions…and then think about how that all plays into the shot.
Depending on the swimmer, the collaborative nature of the shoot will take shape from there. Of the last year, I’ve done a lot of shooting with Jill (image below). She is an artist and art teacher by profession, with a background in dance and gymnastics from her younger years. So she brings an eye toward composition to the table, and together we can talk through an idea with the hopes of creating curated images once in the water.
For the most part, we usually have about 20 minutes to work in the water, before things get too cold to carry on. And because the best shots tend to come in the late Fall and Winter months (for ultimate water clarity), then we are also working with the coldest water of the year; generally in that 48 - 50 degree range. (I swear I can always tell the day that the water temp dips from 50 to 49. There is just something notable about that one degree change. The cold of the water has an added bite to it. Hands hurt for a bit while getting acclimated.) And the part about water clarity? Summer warmth brings about naturally occurring algaes to the water. So it gets very speckled and cloudy looking. Some days you can barely see a few feet. While others, maybe you can see 20 - 30 feet.
Anyway - correographing.
It’s always best to talk about the vision for the day. Talk through the steps to achieve certain poses, and the ideas or spirit of the shoot. With limited time, it’s wise to at least head into the water with a basic sense of where we think things can go. That can always change (and sometimes does) once in the water. Maybe the situation surprises us, changes or just otherwise isn’t what we thought it might be. Maybe some sun rays open up and change the direction of the day. Or maybe it’s darker than thought. It could be any number of things. But still, we talk about the goals and sometimes even rehearse them on land a few times. (Sometimes if there is a breeze and we are using fabric, we can mock-run the effects of the fabric in the breeze, as though it was water current.)
Props.
This year we started testing a few props. A dress. A sarong. A pile of golden/ yellow Fall leaves. This is where things start to get considerably more complicated. When introducing fabrics into the water, an element of risk elevates with it. The fabric is cumbersome, acts like a sail, an anchor, a straight jacket, a tourniquet….pick your problem. The more the fabric, the bigger the problems. Then add current. Staying untangled is a real thing.
And let’s check back in with the cold. You can talk through all the plans you want, but when that cold water goes into your ears - reality changes. Breath gets short. The panic button illuminates. Fight or flight mechanisms start to tingle.
For me…from the backside of the camera…it’s about working around the burst of chaos while also helping influence some calm. Helping the swimmer settle down, calm and relax their face, and find the space to move through the reduced gravity. From there, I try to just be present, observe the motions and the environment, and focus on framing the best shots I can. It’s tricky when shooting motion while in motion. Buoyancy wants to pull me up, while I am fighting to go down. I may only have one hand somewhat free…but usually am trying to control the camera with both hands, while using my feet to propel me in whatever direction is required.
While all this is happening, I am watching the swimmer move, watching the light refract through the water column, watching bubbles rise and trying to maintain my position relative to the subject. A million moments happening at the speed of light, and I am clicking away photos, hoping to capture them all.
In between breaths, its back to the surface where we recompose, and if there is fabric in the scene, try not to get tangled up and drown! A few moments of focus and recollect…..then 3…2…1…..down again. Swim an arc…..do a somersault….dive and spin….drop straight down….blow bubbles….so many things to do or try, while seeking equilibrium with the surroundings. I love it.
Wrapping Up
Around the 20 minute mark, its usually time to head in. The shivers get deep after that, and re-warming takes a lot of time. In Jill’s case, she’ll start with a bucket of hot water to rinse off. Then a couple of hot water bottle/ bladders to tuck under warm dry cloths, followed by a thermos of hot coffee. Warming from the outside in and the inside out. Other swimmers (like Melissa) prefer to go for a trail run after to regenerate warmth.
For me, now it’s time to also get changed into dry cloths, while safely packing away the camera. If it was an exceptional shoot, I’ll usually sit for a few minutes and take a sneak peek at what’s on the memory card. It’s hard to contain the excitement. Once home, all the gear moves into the shower to get de-salt-watered and clean, while the camera downloads over to the computer where I’ll spend part of the day reviewing and editing.
The Images Below
Wew captured this one yesterday morning, and you can see some other samples from this shoot in the portfolio page on this site and also in the last blog post before this one. Jill had procured some chiffon fabric and wrapped it up like a sarong. The effects were stunning. In some instances, the fabric almost looked like a liquid being injected into the sea - like an old school lava lamp.
The second and third image shows how we incorporated the leaves. This was Jill’s idea. We started on shore by collecting a large pile of golden yellow leaves, then setting them free into the water. This was challenging! We had a lot going on at once, and a water current that was running entirely opposite of what we expected. How the leaves behaved was interesting and we had to react to that, rather than truly control it. But as you can see, we were able to create a variety of scenes, vibes and feelings.
Alright. That’s about it for now.
More as winter marches on….
~Dean
Fall. Leaves. Fabric. Action.
The wait for clear water is over. Fall is here. Winter is near. The north breeze and cold dry air set the stage.
Collaboration in art is like a dance. I shoot plenty of swim. But there is a line between that, and shooting planned, themed, compositions. Especially in such cold water, in winter conditions with tidal currents. Images like these have been goals for my friend Jill and I for some time now. Experiments earlier this year were promising, and once summer’s seasonal algae speckles were gone, and the water turned clear again….off we went.
These images were a little extra interesting because the process was also being filmed from above the water for an upcoming documentary. This photo shoot but one small facet of the overall, but should be interesting to see none the less. Look for more about that at the City of Tacoma’s Ground to Sound Film Festival. https://www.groundtosoundfilmandartfest.com/
For the leaves in the second image, we actually collected from shore and brought them out into the water. Juggling the leaves, the long fabric, camera, etc., proved to be more difficult than expected. And the current was running the opposite direction of what the tide chart seemed to show for the day. The sky was fogged over heavily, so we worked with what we had. You don’t get to just hang out in the water for a long time and wait for conditions to change. With Jill not wearing a wetsuit, the clock is running fast.
The results? Personally - I think they turned out stunning.
I hope you enjoy them too.
Fall
On land or in the sea, golden leaves find their way as the punctuation of choice when looking for visual hues to signal the cadence of Fall. A rainbow adorned the background this morning, like a smile. While not shown here, there were so many seals and sea lions, that some didn’t even see the rainbow. Funny sometimes, the depth of field of our attention. That’s no jab at anyone who missed it. I could have missed it too.
Barlow Gallery Show
Come say hello in person (and not on a scrolling screen!) at the Barlow Gallery in Tacoma on Nov. 8th and 9th. www.barlowgallery.com
The Next Chapter
I never thought I’d have to think about what came after social media. And I certainly never thought that I’d lost myself in there. I still don’t think I lost myself there….but as I stand here…I’m also not entirely sure I know where here is.
I looked at the body of work at hand and the time associated with it. Ten years. Wow. That feels long when I say it. And yet it also seemed to pass by in the blink of an eye. The time seemed right to give it a closing page, and put it away on a shelf.
This is no burned bridge. Not at all. No more than when a band or an author finish an album or a book. It’s just time to start another.
So this is that. It’s that time to start another.
What’s changing? For starters, the name. “Tacoma And The Sea” is put to bed now. And the new name? Don’t have one yet. And maybe it stays that way. I always felt constricted by the former name. It always felt strange when I was sharing stories and images of the sea from Canada or California. At the same time, it was. close and it was personal. Tacoma And The Sea was a love letter to the intimacy of this place. It will forever be a part of me.
A Decade Later
Wow. Look at you here. You dropped by to see where things landed and what’s next in this artistic journey.
Thank you.
In case that opening sentence is odd to you, please allow me to make a re-introduction.
My name is Dean and for the last decade I’ve been sharing a photo-based story called “Tacoma And The Sea” on a big social media platform. I had no idea that it would take me on such a wild ride. A couple of TED stages, NPR’s THE WILD, guest lectures at the University of Washington, dozens of podcasts, live storytelling shows, classrooms, on-the-water programs….and so much more. It’s been a passion project.
I’ve made a lot of friends along the way. Lost some too. That’s life. The human experience can be brittle.
After a decade of participating in the social-scroll, I simply decided I’d had enough in that sand box. No regrets. Just had enough. So now I’m moving over to something a little slower paced. No gamification. No “like” button. No transactional foundation. And thankfully, no algorithm. I just wanted a place I could park my art and stories, on my terms. Higher resolution images and stories told as long as I want them to be.
How many of you are “following” here? I could care less. The goal here is simple: a more meaningful experience.
I’ll also be aiming to put more printed photos out for viewing in the real world. Where we can stand shoulder to shoulder, look at them, talk about them, and then maybe head out into the sea and recreate new and unique experiences as friends, you and I. Or maybe we never meet. Maybe the stories and images simply inspire you to find your way through the sea.
To my friends and family who followed this over as I exited stage left of the socials….thank you. Your notes and encouragement are what built this website. I’m not kidding. 3 days ago when I said I was closing the door on the socials, I had no plans to do this. But you all showed me that these stories mattered. I was humbled, deeply. So this place is a new celebration for us, together.
Be patient with me as I slowly add new content. I’m in no rush. Let’s reel things in a bit and enjoy the slow meal together.
Oh, and a plug for that first upcoming chance to do this “live and in person.” I’ll have a few prints on show at the Barlow Gallery on Market Street in Tacoma on Nov. 8th and 9th. And will be on site to say hello and talk story with you. I’d love to see you there.
Thank you for being here.
Much love,
~Dean
PS - there is a “contact” page up there. Feel free to drop me an email. Share a story. Or let’s meet in the sea somewhere.