Kreider's Korner Photographs

Notre-Dame de Chartres (Chartres Cathedral)

2009-07-14T09:25:00.000-07:00

On Sunday, April 19th, 2009, we took the train from Paris to the medieval city of Chartres so that we could visit Notre-Dame de Chartres, one of the best known Gothic cathedrals and hear the organ at high Mass. Before purchasing train tickets, I was careful to checked various websites to see what was scheduled for the day and to learn what information they had to offer.

As soon as we entered the front door and stood inside, my heart sank. None of the websites mentioned anything about the cathedral's entire choir being blocked physically and--more importantly--visually. Scaffolding immediately behind the altar (under the crossing) rose from the medieval to the vaulted ceiling, and enormous sheets of plastic stretched the height of the majestic choir. Once built, cathedrals obviously require steady maintenance, but I only wish I had been warned. However, I hope that these pictures will also hopefully suggest that even with the heart of the cathedral unavailable, there is much that can be seen, enjoyed and treasured.

Challenges faced all visitors with cameras: on this cloudy rainy day, with many of the grand windows blocked, there was only a fraction of the customary natural light. I shot at ISO 1,600, hand-held without flash (in order to be unobtrusive). Once your eyes adjusted to the more dim light, you could see the outlines of the beautiful ribbed vaulting in the aisles.

A beggar patiently stood by the cathedral's open door, between the interior's darkness and the more bright daylight outside. Every cathedral has its faithful beggars, always has, always will.

During Mass, we sat near a beautiful candle on one of the nave's pillars. I liked the interplay of the candle's light and light coming through the cathedral's stained glass window, with its deep blues, reds and greens.
At the conclusion of the organ's performance after Mass, I went forward to the crossing to see the present altar area. I was worried to notice that one of the bishop's attendants had mistakenly left this beautiful silver vessel for incense at the base of one of the central pillars.
The beautiful lectern, from which the sermon was delivered, has gold sculptures which reflect light wonderfully.
Other pillars have bases which are about as high as a medieval person's waist. The stones have been highly polished by centuries of casual touching by millions of hands.

Given the dark lighting in the nave, I spent most of my time in the apsidal ambulatory which goes around the choir. A number of chapels radiate from this ambulatory. In the afternoon, light reflects softly from the well-worn paving stones in the ambulatory.

Most chapels are relatively open to the ambulatory, and several were important places for prayer throughout the day. There were many pilgrims that Sunday, not just tourists but people who came to pray.

Ever since cathedrals were built, candles have played an important role in cathedral life. So many were used for lighting in the middle ages that officials decreed all candles should be made of at least 50% bees wax, and preferably 100%. This was very expensive, but it cut down on the pollution caused by burning oil and fat, and kept the interiors brighter longer.

One apsidal chapel was closed for repairs, but the lighting coming through the protective plastic sheets was fascinating.

We did not have access to the Chapter House, but we could see the stairway leading from the apse's ambulatory to the higher, exterior Chapter House. This is where the monastic community met daily to hear someone read another chapter from the Rule of St Benedict. Those who follow the rule are generally known as Benedictines.

Faculté Libre de Théologie Évangélique (FLTE) at Vaux-sur-Seine

2009-07-09T11:47:00.000-07:00

On Wednesday, May 6th, 2009, I was invited to photograph the day's activities at the Faculté Libre de Théologie Évangélique (FLTE) at Vaux-sur-Seine, 40 kms or about an hour's train ride from Paris. This is a Protestant seminary in which students from various evangelical denominations prepare to become pastors and church leaders. Some of the denominations represented include Reformed, Lutheran, Pentecostal, Mennonite, Methodist, etc. I felt that there were approximately 80 students, and about a dozen faculty and staff present that particular day. I was honoured when Dean Jacques Buchhold gave me a tour of the facilities, introduced me to their work, and granted me free access to all classes, the dorm, the weekly faculty meeting and other activities. After a while, people graciously learned to ignore my camera as I walked around, even when I took pictures during lectures.

These pictures give but a brief glimpse into the busy activities of these highly dedicated and very friendly theologians and seminarians. Over the decades, many congregations have been profoundly helped by FLTE's graduates.

Not long ago, FLTE celebrated 40 years of serving the evangelical communities in France.

The campus is compact, having two main buildings. One of these houses the seminary's library, office support staff and class rooms. The trees around this building moved gracefully in the wind on that overcast day.

Dean Jacques Buchhold is currently leading the seminary. His office bookshelves were crammed with books.
Dean Buchhold also chairs the faculty meetings. My understanding is that the seminary's entire faculty is involved democratically in all important curricular and institutional decisions. The meeting that particular day began with a Faculty/Staff Coffee right after lunch.

In a sense, the graduate seminars and lectures are the seminary's primary activities. Like graduate students everywhere, these seminarians took notes by hand and on their laptops.

You can just make out the River Seine, which is seen from the classroom windows.

Since the seminarians come from different Protestant traditions and cultures, discussions were fascinating, and at times lively.

I even took a quick picture (joyfully posed) of a seminarian giving a practice sermon in class.

The library at FLTE is developing important strengths in areas of interest to the faculty. It is also creating a shared electronic library catalogue with other scholarly libraries through Patchwork", or Bibliothèque Protestants et Associées, a cooperative network which enables a dozen scholarly libraries to share resources. One of these is the library at the Mennonite Centre de Paris, which specializes in Anabaptist writings, Anabaptist history (particularly in Europe) and worship.

A highlight in any student's day is taking a break from classes and going to the dining hall in the basement of the newer building, which also houses the dorm and chapel. Everybody eats together: students, staff and faculty. One person at each table brings the food for the entire table, then stands and serves it. The food was simple, economical and good. The first thing I noticed was the old napkin case which houses napkins for the week. This reminded me of the medieval monastic tradition (also used in some French homes) of using the same cloth napkin all week rather than consuming thousands of paper napkins. Lunch is also a time for conversation and friendly debating.

Although there was no chapel on the day of my visit, here are two photographs of the seminary's chapel, upstairs in one wing of the dormitory. A former seminarian provided the wonderful triptych at the back of the sanctuary.

One seminarian from the Alsace kindly let me take pictures in his room and I shot this, "as is". The room was a neat as his handwriting.

I also got to meet a few of the dedicated support staff at the seminary. No institution can operate without people working behind the scenes.

Several seminarians were willing to pause briefly while heading to lunch, and I took the photograph of another, unaware.

Between classes, the ping pong table was busy as seminarians played impromptu games until the bell announced the next class. After lunch, a number of seminarians played soccer (foot) for exercise, reminding me of St Benedict's advice: don't just study and worship, you should also get exercise daily. In the second picture (below) and several others in this blog, you can catch glimpses of the River Seine, the same river which flows through the heart of Paris and surrounds the Cathédral Notre Dame de Paris.

Renovating the Old Auditorium (Old Aud) for Music at UBC

2009-06-23T18:10:00.000-07:00

UBC (The University of British Columbia) is renovating its Old Auditorium, affectionately known simply as "the Old Aud". Once rebuilt, it will be suitable as an opera house and concert hall for the School of Music, offering new rehearsal space in the redesigned basement as well as a space there which can be used for practicing opera staging. All of this costs millions, but the building is one of the oldest on campus, a building which many of our older alumni remember fondly as a place for meeting potential life partners, a place for large lectures, and as one of the picturesque buildings the University somehow managed to construct for the young province. Now matured, the province of British Columbia, UBC, the Faculty of Arts and Music are cooperating to raise the money for this splendid undertaking.

These pictures were taken during a guided tour last month. At that time, the Old Aud had been taken back to the studs. As I approached the Old Aud, the first thing I noticed is that the whole building is completely fenced--a hard-hat area for construction workers, and beyond the fencing is scaffolding.

I took these stairs into the Old Aud, as I had for more than three decades, and was delighted to see the atrium completely gutted, readied for some serious improvements which have been overdue long before I arrived in 1975. The exposed 'bones' of the Old Aud seem to be very sound (click to enlarge any of these pictures).

Within the auditorium itself. UBC is retaining the lovely grand old windows, the floor slope and detailed plastering when possible, but much has to be replaced.
To get another view, I went to the balcony. The theatre seating has been removed, access holes have been added to the ceiling temporarily, but the angles and levels of the floor itself are being retained.

Now we are looking down at the auditorium from the balcony:

While upstairs, I decided to visit my old office. I could hardly find it. There used to be walls, of course, as well as a door with my name, some shelves, several desks, outlets and the like. That said, it was also either very hot or very cold, and was usually an ideal place for growing molds of various types. I was glad to bequeath it to someone else.

Going now to the basement, I first stopped to see a new room. This space was apparently never before utilized, but a doorway has now been made through the cement wall, soil removed, and this absolutely dry windowless room will become an opera storage room. This is an excellent use of otherwise dead space.

For decades, I joined hundreds for lunch at Yum-Yums in the basement of the Old Aud. This was a great place for some greasy Chinese fast food or sandwich, once the noon rush was dissipated, a place I liked to go to review notes for an afternoon lecture over a cup of coffee. The concrete floor has been removed so that earth can be removed and the flooring be lowered. I understand that this space will become rehearsal rooms, practice rooms, and a place for blocking operas. I never dreamed I would ever see even a small steam shovel parked at my favourite lunch spot.

One of the most visible and significant changes is the addition of an orchestra pit between the stage and auditorium's seats. I waited for about 10 minutes to get this picture of a loader driving straight through the orchestra pit on its way to get another load of dirt from the Yum-Yums floor.

From the basement level of the orchestra pit, you can see the basement windows of Yum-Yums as well as the auditorium (one level up) and its balcony.

Finally, climbing to the stage, we see the nearly gutted back stage area where inventive students have left signatures for decades.

The ceiling of the back stage reminds me of my father-in-law's old corn crib. Large holes had to be made in the roof in order to drop steel beams into the exceptionally tall area to provide the level of improved support now required for earthquake preparations.

I hope to revisit the site in July and give another report.

Treed Paths at VanDusen Botanical Garden, Vancouver

2009-06-13T21:18:00.000-07:00

Vancouver's VanDusen Botanical Garden draws garden enthusiasts from around the city, province and beyond. I visited this wonderful garden recently, partly because brother Mark and Amy were visiting, and partly because Yves asked whether I might have any photos of peaceful pathways, possibly something including a bit of light shining on the path ahead. This suggestion gave me a useful theme for the early afternoon. The sunlight on this hazy June day was quite bright, so taking pictures in partial shade was a good idea.

This is the most complicated pathway, one eventually crossing some water. If you click on the picture to enlarge it, you can hopefully see the turtles sunning themselves on one of the rocks.

My second pathway is more typical of the garden, having crushed stone and borders of plants with a canopy of trees. For most visitors, this path simply takes you from one part of the garden to another, but I like the path itself.

I was intrigued by the way this path turns mysteriously, seeming to continue endlessly.

Within the park (or garden) is a small quiet self-contained section which is surrounded by trees. This is what the entryway looks like after entering it.

Walking, walking, looking, walking, stopping to admire flowers before walking some more . . . a bench can be a welcome sight. This bench invites me to bring a book the next time, pause, listen to the birds, and enjoy life.

I like the darkness of this covered path, with the promise of light ahead. To me, this is a metaphor for life.

May manifestations (demonstrations) in Paris

2009-05-19T14:36:00.001-07:00

Manifestations (demonstrations) have been an art form throughout France for years. Many books have been written about the manifestations in 1968 which brought significant changes to French society. May 1st is an annual day of manifestations, a holiday on which thousands of union workers gather to march in solidarity with each other and sometimes in support of specific concerns and issues.

The police usually issue advisories on anticipated parades so that people can avoid the parades and have time to find alternate routes. We noticed that the right wing Front Nationale was wisely granted a permit to march far from the socialists and at a different time.

As we approached the Bastille in search of demonstrations, we saw things were a bit behind schedule. Spectators were starting to gather, some found great cafe tables from which to ponder events. Some climbed for a better view.

The professional photographers who had seen all of this before, knew which vantage points were best for getting pictures of the demonstrations coming up the street.

Police were also out in force, with lots of vans and their riot gear, just in case. They were impressive, but friendly and willingly posed for cameras. I am guessing that the police were positioned to ensure that none of the demonstrators took the street leading to République, where the supporters of the Tamil Tigers were demonstrating.

Thankfully the day was festive rather than confrontive. Parents pushed infants in strollers and vendors sold the obligatory muguets (lily of the valley), the flower one absolutely must have on May 1st (for reasons unknown to me). Even beggars managed to get some, and they were dreadfully expensive (of course our garden in Vancouver has hundreds, so buying them would never occur to me).

Eventually, we heard the distant rumble of whistle blowing, loudspeakers blaring, voices chanting, and live music being drummed. The first groups were finally coming up the long boulevard, well-organized and disciplined. Many groups proudly carried banners proclaiming their union affiliation. Some people marched, arms linked in solidarity.

One group even had its own photographers riding on the roof of a support van--while moving with the demonstrators (check out the telephoto of the photographer kneeling). I could only envy their vantage point. The van's back doors were left open so that people could get water, juice or snacks.

Soon, it was manifestations for as far as the eye could see. The day was clearly going to be billed by the press as a big success.

The PCF (Communist Party of France) never lets an opportunity for publicity pass without notice, and their flags were sprinkled here and there, though in greater numbers than they muster in elections.

Some lycée (high school) teachers were marching, for education is facing serious cuts and difficulties in France, as is true around the globe.

Archeologists were also demonstrating--their funding is also being threatened and certain important projects are being cut.

I enjoyed watching one seasoned professional photographer. He would watch for a break, determine his best vantage point on the road for the next group of demonstrators, and then wait patiently, observing things unfold. Other people would be shooting frantically, but he knew the sort of pictures he needed, and so he waited, waited, waited. It was a lesson I needed to observe. He was visibly a professional, having two SLRs on his neck and an enormous camera backpack--all in professional black.

Sometimes organizers would spot him and abruptly halt the demonstration so the marchers could line up better and the photographer get his pictures. Both the photographer and marchers wanted the pictures to be good.

One lad had an interesting homemade sign (click on the pictures to enlarge them):

After he walked by, I could see the writing on the back of the sign, indicating (ironically) that he now has a job and will be moving to Kaboul.

Many workers--and citizens generally--argue that the real crisis is not just financial but it is in fact President "Sarko".

The largest union, CGT (Confédération générale du travail, General Confederation of Labour), had what seemed to be thousands marching behind their various banners. One member got ahead of one of the subgroups, and on a prearranged signal had everybody stop so he could dramatically light a flare and, after holding it aloft to great cheers, bend and burn the letters "CGT" into the pavement. People loved it.

There were children throughout the manifestations. I like this shot showing a father blowing a whistle while carrying his young daughter. Many families are utterly loyal unionists, passing stories of their struggles from one generation to the next.

Eventually we got tired and started walking towards the advancing demonstrators. We walked for blocks, and there was no sign of things concluding. After two hours, we were tired of the noise, and the waves of banners, balloons and people became repetitive. I stopped, jumped into a slight break in the parade and took this last shot, looking back toward the distant greenish monument at the Bastille, the one seen in the first picture of this series. I envied the folks in the balcony (upper right hand corner) for being able to watch and be home at the same time. I should also point out the sign on the chap in the lower left hand corner: "Rêve générale"; grève is 'strike', rêve is 'dream', a play on words which set the tone for the day.

Fearing the subway might be closed at Bastille (I later learned it was), we went by foot to another line, and then home to hear what radio said about the demonstrations.

Pont du Garde, France

2009-05-13T15:08:00.000-07:00

The Pont du Gard is possibly the most famous remaining aqueduct constructed by the Roman Empire's engineers, politicians, workers and slaves. This massive structure brought about 5 million gallons of water daily to Nîmes, carrying it about 50 kms from the springs near Uzès. They say that the engineers designed this aqueduct so carefully that the water was required to drop a mere 50 or so feet over the distance of 50 kms, a fall of about 34 cm/km. Much of the bridge spanning the Gardon River still survives (12 spans are missing), and the three levels of arches are indeed spectacular, both visually and as a feat of engineering. My friend Bob once climbed to the top and (foolishly?) walked the length of the top. Obviously, if one slips, there is limited time for a final prayer.

As Romans began constructing this massive structure, one can only imagine what the local villagers and farmers thought, for they would never have imagined such a project being possible. The aqueduct was yet another symbol of the authority, ingenuity, power and economic might of the occupying forces.

The large archways both reduced the amount of material required and allowed the river to flow unimpeded whenever it flooded, as it often still does.

Over the centuries, the flooding has only slightly eroded the pillars, which remain in remarkably good shape, considering they are more than 1,900 years old.

Part of the aqueduct served as a bridge/road across the valley.

Looking down from the bridge, you see the valley created by the River Gardon.

Standing on the bridge/road, we can look up at the underside of the second level of arches.

The entire structure was constructed without cement--the stones were cut so that they fit perfectly. The Romans are credited with inventing cement, but even they apparently sense--or knew--that something this heavy would be more than their cement could withstand. Some of these individual stones weigh 6 tonnes.

I am assuming that these square holes once held a wooden structure which served as scaffolding for the builders. As I admired the grandeur of the aqueduct, I wondered how many men fell to their death while working on this masterpiece.

Janice is photographing a few of the plants which somehow manage to survive on the part of the rocky riverbed which serves as a floodplain.

Tour Eiffel, Paris

2009-05-04T00:48:00.000-07:00

There is a constant stream of people climbing the stairs in several of the Tower's four legs. From these stairways, you can see for miles through the protective metal fences. There are places to pause and rest. Some youngsters think the point is to 'win', other folks like to enjoy the internal structure of this enormous steel spiderweb, watch the activities on the ground slowly recede, and contemplate getting a gym membership.

Looking up, past level one, to level two.

The first observation level.

"We're so cool!" Actually, most people were keeping their coats on, but I guess the downside is that they then have difficulty displaying their underwear.

Tourists never get much time to themselves here. There are scores of vendors pushing cheap trinkets on you. These days there are many young men, possibly from India, Sri Lanka or various countries in Africa, going through the throngs independently, yet obviously working in groups for safety. I suspect that many of these men do not have working papers. In the afternoon, I suddenly heard many feet running, looked up and saw these guys scooting away from the Eiffel Tower as fast as they could go. They had spotted policemen who were possibly checking for permits. Judging from the smiles, this scenario is reenacted several times a day. Everybody knows that once the police have moved on, the vendors will once again be flogging the cheapest replicas imaginable of this famous monument.

Tourists are also besieged by women, who I assume are gypsies. They have been a well-known sight in Paris for more than a century. Over the past decades, I have seen them begging in the metro's underground hallways or sitting on streets, sometimes holding very young children who are sound asleep (I was told they are drugged). The ploy right now is for these women to approach tourists and ask "You speak Eeenglish?" If they get your attention--and they always do, they then thrust a well-worn handwritten paragraph in your face, usually telling of a mother needing a serious operation, etc. I learned by accident that if I have a French book title clearly displayed on my lap, these women leave me alone--likely because they do not have the message in French at hand. One friend told me that some gypsies now work for the mafia, but I obviously cannot confirm the report.

I like this picture of the women because it was taken just after they huddled together for their final instructions for the afternoon. The women were laughing, chatting, etc. Suddenly, as they brok up, their laughter stopped and they assumed their theatrical downcast looks of abject pathos and misery, their bodies went from being erect to being slumped, and they spread out, shuffling along, working the crowd, "Excuse, you speak Eeenglish?"

Many tourists visit Paris for only a few hours or a few days, and are invariably exhausted from trying to see 'everything'. I often observe combinations of excitment and exhaustion on people's faces. Those who actually pause to rest are very wise indeed.

I waited nearly 30 minutes to get this shot. I suddenly realized that a few of the tourist buses had this fascinating advertisement and that, if I positioned myself just so, I could juxtapose the ad with the real thing. I obviously have too much free time.

The Eiffel Tower is one of the world's leading tourist attractions, and possibly the best known symbol of Paris. In my youth, I willingly climbed the stairs to level two. This spring, I spent an afternoon around the tower on April 20th but gave up the plan to ascend the tower after seeing the long lines of people waiting to take one of several elevators or to climb several stairways, and after surmising that even if I climbed the stairs to take pictures, I would always be trying to shoot through the wire fencing which protects climbers (and keeps young guys from scaling the beams). So I stayed on the ground, taking pictures of the structure from below, usually against a rather dark-grey sky, or I watched people from a safe distance with my 200mm lens + 2x converter.

Strong as the tower is, we are not allowed to go to the top level, which is now used solely for broadcasting (and is one reason the tower has been preserved). There have been long discussions about this "temporary" structure, for it was never intended to last more than a few years. By now, however, Paris cannot afford to let it disappear, and that which was once both a marvel and an eyesore, is now inseparable from the capital city.

Cafes in Paris near Sacre Coeur and St Eustache

2009-05-01T02:55:00.000-07:00

Very pregnant

Four men and three beers

Two women three beers

Conversation

Stairs to the north of Sacre Coeur, leading up to the cafes

Le Refuge (at the top of the stairs)

Oblivious

Men only

Cigarette

Another cigarette

Why finding peace in the city can be difficult

Chips to go

Parisians love their coffee and their cafes. As soon as the sun starts to warm the days, Parisians find outside tables where they can relax, talk, read, check email, have a beer or Coca, or just watch the world pass by. Even as planes fly overhead and as cars pass within several meters away, or as pedestrians almost bump your table, these cafes provide a quiet answer to the hectic pace of life and places where friends can meet without worrying about preparing to entertain guests.

Taking pictures of people at cafe tables is not easy. Most people sort of know that once they are outside, on public sidewalks and streets, others can indeed take their pictures. But this does not mean that everybody welcomes intrusions into their private moments. Since I am somewhat shy and never want to be confrontational, I have developed a method for taking these pictures. I am learning to cradle my camera in the crook of one of my arms. The lens points about 70-90 degrees from where I appear to be looking. The camera's settings have been fixed for the lighting, I shoot at a fast speed in the hope of avoiding image blur, I usually set the lens somewhere around 35mm (wide angle), and set the automatic focus so that it picks up close images. Then the trick is to find people who are engaged in each other, or possibly supremely bored, and, when shooting, it is important to keep the camera reasonably level to the horizon. I find this enormous fun and equally unpredictable. Expressions change during a heated conversation, a cloud suddenly changes the light conditions, someone unexpectedly gets between me and the cafe tables, and so on.

These pictures celebrate friendship and cafes around the world.

The Forum des Halles, Paris

2009-04-20T02:13:00.001-07:00

The new and the old: the Forum des Halles and St Eustache

Young people in a hallway in the Forum

Covered passageways with shops

Rain on cafe table--nobody could eat outside

April 18th was a cold wet day in Paris, so I headed down to the general area of Les Halles and the commercial centre known as the Forum. This area used to be a major market for Paris, having hundreds of stalls selling just about everything imaginable. It was also a very important area for butchering animals for fresh meat, so much so that St Eustache celebrated a Mass annually for the pork butchers working for the city's famous charcuteries. As problems of hygene persisted century after century, various solutions were attempted, but with limited success. Finally, the whole area was redeveloped into a major transportation hub for the city and suburbs (RER), a large Forum des Halles was created, and one has to search to find any charcuteries in the area.

The Cemetery called 'Le Pere Lachaise', Paris

2009-04-19T10:30:00.000-07:00

This tableau greets visitors as they arrive at the cemetery.

One of many winding walkways

Rows of mausoleums, the one now white has recently been restored.

The largest mausoleum, near the crematorium, has two levels above ground.

This mausoleum also has one level slightly below ground.

"You and I"

The most simple, yet most self-assured marker I have seen.

Nobody seems to know who Leilah Mahi was, but
many have photographed her picture.

Is this the same guy?
A painter otherwise unknown to me.

Upper portion of Chopin's grave.

A gentleman honouring the memory and work of Allan Kardec

Many like to photograph Edith Piave's family tombstone.
"God reunites those who love each other." I have the complete
recordings of this wonderful singer.

There are many sweet words, but was this brother
equally loved in life?

The grave may be here in perpetuity, but will anybody tend it?
Small seeds often destroy sturdy tombs.
One of hundreds of service paths
Looking at a rusted iron grill behind broken glass,
seeing it through a hole broken in the back of this mausoleum.
Once stately, this expensive mausoleum now lacks a working door and stained glass window.

The Eastern Cemetery called Cimetière du Père-Lachaise (or simply Père Lachaise) is the most famous graveyard in Paris and one of the best known in the world. It spreads over more than 100 acres and is walled in the manner of a medieval monastery. When you encounter people selling maps outside the cemetery, you know you will soon be entering a labyrinth of tombs, walkways, paths and streets. The land was protected from city expansion by the Jesuits who built several buildings, retaining the rest of the land as woods and park. But they were suddenly expelled after someone tried to assassinate Louis XV, the land changed hands and Napoleon I eventually purchased the property, turning it into the Eastern Cemetery.

This cemetery has also become a park for thousands of visitors. There are many roads running through the cemetery, all paved in cobble stones and lined on both sides with tall stately trees which were undergoing their spring prunning during my visit. The grave sites seemed somewhat crammed together, though possibly no more so than in Canada. The custom is to cover each plot somehow with large horizontal stones or possibly even small buildings. I was intrigued by the little family mausoleums which covered one, two or more plots. These expensive stone structures reminded me of ancient Greek treasuries lining the road to some sacred place on a mountainside. Some of these mausuleums are still in good repair, others have doors which have rusted through or no longer close, stained glass windows at the back which are either in need of a good cleaning or are broken, and walls which need attention. I appreciated one grave that was particularly well-tended, even though the gentleman died nearly a century ago, but so many other more recent graves obviously lack loving visitors.

Preparing for Maundy Thursday at St Severin Church in Paris

2009-04-15T12:51:00.000-07:00

Setting up tables in central aisle

Preparing the central table for Maundy Thursday evening

Table down the central aisle, chair turned to face the aisle

Even chairs in the side aisles are oriented toward the central aisle.

Reading lecturn approached by climbing wine crates

Seminarians assist in preparations

Arranging new flowers behind the baptismal font
(the flowers were then removed on Good Friday)

Crucifix before it was covered in black

Seminarians drap crucifix in black cloth in the chapel reserved for prayer.

Statue covered in black for the remainder of Holy Week

Washing candles for Holy Week and Easter

Discussing preparations

Light shines through stained glass windows

Good Friday--the table is removed and chairs oriented normally for worship.

The central pillar in the double ambulatory represents The Tree of Life

Jeudi saint, Holy Thursday, is sometimes called "Maundy Thursday", from the Latin mandatum or command, referring to a statement made by Jesus after washing his students' feet as a sign of willingly serving them in life: This I command you, that you wash one anothers' feet. Some denominations still follow this request annually on the Thursday before Good Friday, but most churches are uneasy with invading personal space by touching other peoples' feet and so they readily find reasons for ignoring this explicit command, the last one given by Jesus.

I visited L'église Saint Séverin on the afternoon of Maundy Thursday. This old church is located in the Latin Quarter (where the monasteries and schools used to operate in Latin), close to (what is now) the Cluny Museum. I find that it is nearly impossibly to have a meaningful visit at the Cathedral of Notre Dame these days, with tourists lining up for blocks, but other charming churches just a few blocks away are wonderfully quiet. That afternoon, volunteers and seminarians were scurrying around St Séverin, setting up a table which ran down the centre aisle of the sanctuary, from the back of the church to the altar. The tables were covered with many white cloths and were being decorated with greenery. All of the chairs were then oriented 90 degrees from the altar, facing the table--and each half of the sanctuary facing the other half. This was in preparation for celebrating the Last Supper Jesus had with his students. The church remained open all that night for prayers and meditation.

I was impressed that this was a church with community involvement, able to get volunteers to look after flower arrangements, decorations, and that annual ritual of draping all the crucifixes and images in black until early Easter morning, when everything returns to brilliant splendor. The small church also relates closely to seven seminary students this year.

Graffiti in Paris

2009-04-13T02:58:00.001-07:00

Overview of the 100-meter wall along Rue Ordener

"Paris is not a dream"

Closeup showing spray-paint techniques

"Too many women in too many countries
speak the same language: silence"

Layers of work

Painting depicting cracks

Although much graffiti is as welcomed by citizens as dog poo, over the centuries there have been some amazing graffiti artists at work, whether in ancient Rome, prehistoric caves, or on modern vacant walls and abandoned buildings. In Paris, at least some graffiti has attained the status of Art. There are occasionally exhibitions devoted to graffiti, books recording some of the finest examples of this kind of painting, websites featuring graffiti (http://www.lapanse.com/pages/graffitis/menu_graffitis_pochoirs.html), and some photographers who are always on the lookout for outstanding examples of this impermanent form of art. Usually done on the sly, under the cover of darkness and without permission, this spray-can art can be ironic, aggressive, playful, majestic or just plain repetitive.

Rue Ordener is in the 18e arrondissement of Paris, somewhat to the north, near the metro Marcadet Poissonniers. Just before this street crosses the SNCF railway tracks, there is an uninterrupted wall of more than 100 meters that has officially been set aside by the city and SNCF for graffiti. These photographs attempt to show some of the work that existed here on 11 April 2009. Other artists will surely come along and add new work, covering these displays. Some tell me there is new graffiti daily. I wish someone could explain to me the symbolism, abbreviations and allusions in this art because without this information, I am missing much of the message.

Charenton Market Day, Paris

2009-04-08T04:07:00.000-07:00

Dressed rabbits

Fresh dandelion greens

Steaming sauerkraut with bacon

Horse meat vendor

The small suburb of Charenton is just two metro stops outside Paris and within walking distance of the Mennonite Centre in St Maurice. Carenton's excellent covered market is open Wednesday and Saturday mornings. I took these with the small G9 so that I could be somewhat unobtrusive while shopping. The sauerkraut is terrific, almost sweet. I will most likely not get around to trying the horse meat, although friends tell me Quebec supplies it to France.

Main Street and Broadway, Vancouver

2009-03-25T11:33:00.000-07:00

Our photography class recently had a three-hour shoot in the general area of Main Street and Broadway (9th Avenue) on a sunny but cold afternoon. The first photo shows our excellent teacher, Ian, patiently explaining the afternoon's assignment. He is now shooting mostly with a 50m lens for the more natural perspective. I used primarily my 70-200m zoom because I hesitate to get close to my subjects and I am thinking in the telephoto mode these days.

Truck hood (nobody in class could guess what it was)

Looking through a telephone booth

Thorns on Thorns: Lent 2009

Reflections, looking to the north on Main Street

Although the following shot doesn't work (I was too far from the people), I include it because of the juxtaposition of clutter and austerity. Two friends were just settling down on the sunny porch for coffee, having a great time together. I was struck by their joy, in the midst of all the junk (shoes dangling from telephone wires, garbage cans, cold parking lot, window bars). By contrast, I get to sit in a beautiful garden for my coffee, surrounded by flowers and birds. I was impressed that these gals were having just as much fun as if they were in southern France.

Garage door

People

This was take an hour later, much farther west on Broadway. I was trying out a teleconverter for my 70-200m, here shooting at 400m from inside the store, looking at Ten Thousand Villages, one of my favourite Third World shops.

Galiano Island, British Columbia in March

2009-03-21T11:24:00.000-07:00

Views from Mount Galiano on Galiano Island

Views from Bogeda Ridge

In late February, we visited beautiful Galiano Island which is situated between the mainland and Vancouver Island. These photos were taken primarily from Bogeda Ridge, which has several view points, and the much higher Mount Galiano which required a steady energetic hike of about an hour. The beautiful views encouraged us to linger longer than was wise but I wanted to observe the clouds change colours while the sun set. Darkness fell precipitously during our hurried descent, but we made it safely, in spite of losing sight of the path several times.

Snow in Vancouver, March 9, 2009

2009-03-09T14:48:00.000-07:00

Vancouverites greeted the morning's snow with resignation and a shake of the head. Freezing temperatures are nearly 10 degrees C lower than normal for this time of year. Crocuses which had already delayed appearing as long as possible are still forced to cope with the snow.

Vancouver Sunsets over Galiano Island

2009-03-04T14:05:00.000-08:00

Once again, my good friend Peter invited me to photograph sunsets from his 17th floor condo. The evening of February 28, 2009 featured soft clouds in the southwest and the sun set over Galiano Island. Hues differ because the camera was oriented either as directly to the sun as possible (without getting lens flare) or was situated to catch the sky's colours without aiming at the sun itself. This sampling of pictures takes us sequentially through the span of a single hour.

17.01hr

17.13hr

17.23hr (pointing almost directly at the sun)

17.30hr

17.38hr

17.45 hr

17.56 hr (looking a bit more eastward)

18.03hr

Granville Island, Vancouver

2009-02-26T20:45:00.000-08:00

Our Natural Light photography class took a field trip this morning to Granville Island in Vancouver. This island is largely man-made, having been built up over the decades for industry and then substantially rebuilt by government funding to create a place of refuge for artists, a place where the city's largest indoor market can thrive, and an island on around which people can walk for kilometers.

It was a cold morning, with temperatures hovering just below freezing. The sky was overcast with a consistent cloud cover which lifted after we left. We strolled in small groups, observing what others saw and photographed. Each student is sees different things, which can be very stimulating and encouraging.

Reflections of reflections

Looking up at snow on a glass roof

Reflection of Granville Bridge (inverted so the image seems right side up).

Melted snow flakes on a boat propeller

Friendly worker chatting with photographers

Distrustful goose after lunch

Getting coffee inside Granville Market

Meeting friends in Granville Market

Horizontals

Boat wash on the island

Stairs to water

Sunsets overlooking Vancouver's Strait of Georgia

2009-02-03T17:41:00.000-08:00

January 30, 2009, 4:39 p.m.

4:49 p.m.

4:55 p.m.

4:59 p.m.

5:20 p.m.

5:24 p.m. with a sliver of a moon (click to enlarge)

On January 30th, 2009, Vancouver finally entertained the hope that there would be a sunset, one of the first of this year. I had made tentative arrangements to take pictures from Peter's condo, but by late afternoon the sky reverted to its usual overcast nature. Giving up all hope of there being any sunset to photograph, I phoned Peter to ask for a rain check. He was was delighted I phoned because from his 17th floor condo at UBC he could tell that the sky was going to create openings in the cloud cover within minutes. He urged that I come immediately.

There were no speed traps. Over the next hour or so, I took 150 pictures. These give just a glimpse of the wonderful changes of sky and colour over the Strait of Georgia, looking to the SW toward Galiano Island. Poor Peter has to deal with these sunrises and sunsets daily from his perch above the bald eagles.

Wet logs washed ashore in Vancouver near the Planetarium

2009-01-29T20:30:00.000-08:00

A partially burned log as it looks in the rain (in colour)
The same burned portion of the log, in black and white.

A reminder that basketball originated in Canada.

The snow is nearly gone and with slightly warmer air, our Wet Coast rains have returned. Logging is one of our province's primary industries. When being pulled by tugs to saw mills, some logs escape their jams and eventually wash ashore. A few of these pictures remind me that even salt-soaked logs can be beautiful in the rain.

January Fog in Vancouver's Endowment Land, Pacific Spirit Park

2009-01-15T20:07:00.000-08:00

As our snow slowly melts under the atmospheric inversion, fog has been building up daily. Weather forecasters promise us daily that it will be warmer and sunny, and they are, without fail, mistaken. I took a long walk this afternoon on one of the paths into Vancouver's University Endowment Lands, known since 1988 as the Pacific Spirit Regional Park. Originally this land was set aside for the university so that whenever it needed money, it could develop the land and sell lots, but the depression and war intervened. Twenty years ago, the province declared that most of the remaining land would be a park, which is wonderful.

The trees are second-growth, meaning that the entire area had been harvested earlier, likely sometime around the 1920s and early 30s. Since then, there has been no cutting and the area is slowly reverting to forest. A society has been formed to eradicate non-native plants from the forest (people used to dump cuttings, unwanted soil, etc.) Thousands of people stroll through the forest's paths. We are lucky to live but two houses away.

Melting snow on a foggy day in Vancouver

2009-01-13T10:06:00.000-08:00

Vancouver's foggy morning, 7:48 a.m.

Closeup shots of melting pile of snow:

Fresh snow intrigues everybody, but dirty piles of melting snow are either disgusting or a nuisance, viewed solely as an inevitable transition we must endure until the snow either disappears or returns with a fresh coat.

But the "dirty" snow has a beauty all its own. It visibly records what has fallen to the ground for the past several weeks--debris from our trees and particulates from our city's air.

A closer look at a melting pile of snow on our side street revealed new crystal structures (I obviously need a different tripod to capture this more fully), crystals which became rounded as they were eroded by warmer temperatures. These new shapes are quite different from the earlier symmetrical structures of the fresh snowflakes several weeks ago. The dirt in the snow will soon replenish the meager soil in our front yard (our soil is essentially glacial dump consisting of large rocks which are nearly impossible to move by hand, stones and stones finely ground into sand dropped here some 10,000 years ago when the ice age left this region). I am slowly learning to appreciate and enjoy this stage of snow.

Night photos of Vancouver's final (?) snow storm of the season

2009-01-09T22:22:00.000-08:00

Our street lights are quite orange in colour.

Snow on tree, lit by street lamp.

Looking east on West 31st Avenue

Even now, in spite of days of rain and warmer weather, snow piles are everywhere, residential side roads are uncleared, and by now the meter of snow seems that it might last forever. My car keys fell somewhere in our snow, so I await the melting rather eagerly.

These pictures were taken on January 4th, around 8:45-9:00 p.m. during a fairly heavy snow shower. Several of us sensed that this was the final hurrah of this series of storms, so we took cameras outside one last time. The swirling wind made it impossible to keep snow off the lens, I shot at ISO 1600 hand-held. Our street lights are anything but white, so I include one picture rendered in black and white, to give a better sense of the stuff being snow. On the other hand, in many modern cities, this is the way our city snow now looks. Now British Columbia and Washington State face serious flooding problems, rock falls, avalanches and the like.

Fourth Sunday of Advent at St James Anglican, Vancouver

2008-12-22T11:24:00.000-08:00

St James Anglican Choir singing from the organ loft. The morning's sung Mass was by Lotti.

Gerald Harder improvising at the console.

The following photographs were kindly taken (on my camera) by Chad Bennington during the choir's pre-concert warmup. Chad is the husband of Maureen, a member of the Vancouver Cantata Singers. Chad's first picture shows members of the elite Pacific Ring Handbell Choir, led by Rosemary Bell, another of the Cantata Singers.

I spent most of the Fourth Sunday of Advent at St James Anglican, a beautiful old (for Vancouver) sanctuary in our city's depressed lower east side. St James is renowned for its creative work in assisting local residents and street people. It also leads a very active life of worship, with at least one service daily. Since the city's streets were difficult to navigate that morning, and it was still too early for sidewalks to be cleared, attendance was somewhat light. I assisted the choir in singing a Mass by Lotti, and within minutes of the final blessing, was helping to prepare the front of the sanctuary for the Vancouver Cantata Singers' beloved "Christmas Reprise", which is always performed on the final weekend of Advent.

I have admired Gerald Harder's (another member of Cantata singers) organ performances for years, particularly his improvisations and magnificent postludes. Somehow, he also manages to accompany the hymns while singing all the verses with the small choir and congregation. The choir's singers are truly dedicated individuals, singing Sunday after Sunday without fail, and often adding other services as well. The church has excellent acoustics for both choral and organ music, and the clergy and staff at St James are strong supporters of the arts.

December's snow viewed from inside a warm Vancouver home

2008-12-22T10:35:00.000-08:00

Since Vancouver's city fathers have never seen fit to clear our residential roads--ever, only four-wheel drive vehicles should be out and about this morning. It is therefore a perfect day for remaining inside, enjoying the 'winter wonderland' from the comfort of a heated home. I photographed these snow scenes through our windows because this is how I so often see Vancouver's snow, from the comfort of my desk, or while washing dishes or preparing food, or while eating, reading or working at the computer. Walking in the snow is also wonderful, but I thought this perspective was worth a try.