On the Halloween Trail
27th October 2019
It is October and I am out haunting homeowners who have decorated their lawns with ghouls and witches.
When I am prowling around, I might pull into a driveway and start walking through displays - sometimes seeing the homeowners inside. This year I was escorted out of a haunted front yard in RI. Last year the same at a "scare emporium" in Salem - I was shooting in the ticket entrance, presumably a public space. But I suppose I appeared intrusive.
This is what photographers do - we mean no harm, but I understand the offense.
These days many property owners are instantly aware of intruders via security cameras. Optimally I will first knock on the front door to ask permission. But my favorite light is at dusk and one cannot waste time with idle chatter. Out on the street, I have all but given up trying to shoot young trick-or-treaters, as their parents will aggressively approach me. I must be very careful with the children... and am grateful if they are completely covered up with masks. In Salem of course, it is fair game. Anyone who is out on the streets of Salem is likely to be photographed. Many adults will stop without my speaking to let me admire them with a clicking shutter.
As with my other photo work, I shoot multiple frames and compose later. In the case of my Halloween series, I merge the shots to mimic a single-frame photograph in the tradition of street or portrait work. This is the only series I have that is what I might call "documentary."
I started the series in the last years of my father's life in New York. We made local road trips during the Halloween season and I would roll down my window and take a few snaps. The year after his passing I took up the baton more seriously.
And what is it about? I haven't a clue. It is some sort of seasonal passage - alchemy and natural warnings. As soon as the leaves start to color and the wind snakes about, I am hooked. By November 5th or so.. it is done. The balloon deflates and everything goes silent - what is left is the rustle of squirrels burying their nuts for the months ahead.
Another photographer had the pose and I stepped in fast.
The cat came to me and explained it.
When I am prowling around, I might pull into a driveway and start walking through displays - sometimes seeing the homeowners inside. This year I was escorted out of a haunted front yard in RI. Last year the same at a "scare emporium" in Salem - I was shooting in the ticket entrance, presumably a public space. But I suppose I appeared intrusive.
This is what photographers do - we mean no harm, but I understand the offense.
These days many property owners are instantly aware of intruders via security cameras. Optimally I will first knock on the front door to ask permission. But my favorite light is at dusk and one cannot waste time with idle chatter. Out on the street, I have all but given up trying to shoot young trick-or-treaters, as their parents will aggressively approach me. I must be very careful with the children... and am grateful if they are completely covered up with masks. In Salem of course, it is fair game. Anyone who is out on the streets of Salem is likely to be photographed. Many adults will stop without my speaking to let me admire them with a clicking shutter.
As with my other photo work, I shoot multiple frames and compose later. In the case of my Halloween series, I merge the shots to mimic a single-frame photograph in the tradition of street or portrait work. This is the only series I have that is what I might call "documentary."
I started the series in the last years of my father's life in New York. We made local road trips during the Halloween season and I would roll down my window and take a few snaps. The year after his passing I took up the baton more seriously.
And what is it about? I haven't a clue. It is some sort of seasonal passage - alchemy and natural warnings. As soon as the leaves start to color and the wind snakes about, I am hooked. By November 5th or so.. it is done. The balloon deflates and everything goes silent - what is left is the rustle of squirrels burying their nuts for the months ahead.
Another photographer had the pose and I stepped in fast.
The cat came to me and explained it.