For a while I’ve been obsessed with photographing ice. I’ve photographed frozen creeks, lakes and mud puddles. The different patterns that form in the frozen water is amazing. Some are wild and totally abstract. Some look very art-deco. Sometimes I’ll look through the top layer of ice to photograph leaves, twigs and flowers. The colors are very muted and the images look like a memory or a dream.

It’s starting to get warm here, so I’ll have to put my habit on hold till next winter.

My wife has made a video of a selection of my ice photos and posted it on YouTube.
You can see it here.

Please check out the ice portfolio on my web page.

I was looking at images on a photography website, early one morning. One photographer was bemoaning the fact that his new beautiful image had too much noise in it to be made into a print. I was immediately incensed. Who made up these rules? Probably some web loudmouth. A beautiful photograph is a beautiful photograph, period!

With these disturbing thoughts in my mind I set out to take photos. While driving to my chosen location that morning, I thought of different ways to portray my rant. What stories I could use to illustrate the absurdity and arbitrariness of such rules and the people who espouse them.

But I had to stop. First, to notice the beautiful sunrise over the Flatirons while I drove south. Second, in order to focus on what was at hand, poring over the fantastic formations, textures, shapes and colors of the ice on South Boulder Creek. One day I would notice one type of photo opportunity that intrigued me — frozen leaves and twigs peering through the clearer portions of the ice. I would go back another time looking for more of these and the edges of where the ice met the flowing creek would hold my attention. More recently I was captivated by the beautiful patterns in the frozen, melted and refrozen layers. I had to keep a quiet and open mind and not have any preconceptions, because there was so much to take in, and any preconceptions of what I might be looking for would blind me to other opportunities.

Occasionally I’d look up see the bare cottonwoods lining the creek and the beautiful Flatirons in the distance. I’d marvel at the luck of this Brooklyn boy to end up in such a beautiful place. And, once or twice, I’d remember the fury in my mind as I drove here this morning and my plans to write about it.

It was funny. From a morning start of agitation, self-righteousness and self-victimization, I was now feeling quiet, serene, excited and joyful as I navigated the ice looking for new visions.

I knew I didn’t want to go back there and be the frightened person who wanted to rant. There’s a lot in the world that I don’t agree with and would like to see change, but approaching it from the point of view of a frightened angry ranter will not make the change I would like to see. I’d rather spend my time walking on ice.

Maybe not the best one to start with, but one that I like a lot at the moment. This was taken in a heavy snow storm. I loved the contrast the color of the Willow added to the image.

Walking down a road in the Sierras, these aspen limbs caught my attention.

The first thing I do every morning when I get up is look at the sky. I’m still working on new ways and locations to capture these amazing sunrises.

It’s been many years since I lived in an area with a real winter. It was still fall, but the morning was frosty and I was taken with the light frost on the newly dead leaves and grass.

Probably my most unique photo of the year. I was told that I should be looking to take more like these, and I would like to. We’ll see. I can’t plan it. I need to see something and be inspired.

We have maybe two foggy days a year here. I was very lucky to choose this location this morning and have a hint of the flatirons at the top. That light horizontal line behind the trees is actually the morning sun shining on a meadow.

Even after the sun is up the skies keep giving.

When I posted this online, most viewers wanted to see it warmer. I tried a warmer version and to my eye, the colder version has more drama. This is near Long Lake in the Indian Peaks Wilderness. I love this place.

I’ve photographed this tree in all seasons and light. This one is the best.

Another attempt to capture the amazing winter mornings.

Thanks for looking. I’m much more interested in looking forward than back so I want to leave you with something from this week, the first week of 2012.

The sunrises here on the Colorado front range are amazing. I have never seen patterns and colors in the sky like I have here. I used to photograph a lot of sunrises, either at the pacific ocean or in the Sierras. My images followed what unfortunately has become a pretty standard format. They were shot with wide-angle lenses and the colored sky was there usually as a pretty backdrop for a mountain or seascape. I no longer seek to make those kinds of images.

Instead, I’ve been making images where the sky is the dominant part of the photograph. What foreground there is, is there to complete the composition.

I’ve added a new gallery to my webpage, Colorado Skies, and I’ll be adding new images to it regularly. Regularly at least for the next month or so. The best skies are in the winter. Here is a link to Colorado Skies.

Philip Hyde from Lumière on Vimeo.

I having an opening at the Highland City Club in Boulder this Friday.

It runs from 5PM-7PM

The address of the City Club is:
885 Arapahoe Avenue
Boulder, Colorado 80302

The show runs through February 7th, but if you can make it to the opening, stop by and say hello.

We’ve already had two snowfalls, but I love the fall color here so much, I just had to post some more.

Now I can concentrate on winter images.

I like movies that are thought provoking ⎯ the same with literature. However, when I listen to music or look at visual art, I don’t want more thoughts. I want the music or art to take me out of my thoughts and pull me in.

Mankind is hard at work destroying this planet and in the process destroying himself. Unless you’re living in the wilderness, you can’t help being reminded of this constantly.

I don’t need art to tell me this.

There seems to be a strange view in the world that beautiful art is just escapist and doesn’t accomplish anything. Is it escapist to listen to Bach’s Concerto for Two Violins and be so totally absorbed in it that by the time it’s over, you’re in tears? It’s that’s escapism, I’m all for it.

I go out into nature because it gets me out of my mind. If I’m thinking too much, I don’t see anything. If I quiet down, I can appreciate the beauty. I try to capture that quiet beauty in my photographs.

Rather than thought provoking I would like to think of my work as thought relieving.

My wife, Emily, worked on this video for a long time. She discovered the music of Robert Coxon and crafted the images to evoke the feelings in the music. When she was all done, she tried to contact the composer to no avail. Finally she contacted his publisher, but only got information about the licensing fees required to place the video on YouTube. I was against spending the money, but enter Emily’s 89 year old mother, Reba. After Reba saw what Emily produced, she insisted on giving us the licensing fees for our birthdays.

Thank you Emily and thank you very much, Reba.

Here’s the link to see it.