Julien Dorol Photo Blog

I am hiking with friends in Nepal Helambu region, not far from the Kathmandu Valley and we have walked for three or four days. So far, the weather we had been rather painful and would not improve.

The day had not begun well: we had started the day a bit too late, the rain kept falling, and we were long overdue to arrive before the next night at the shelter. The day fading away and we began to be exhausted.

While we take a short break before attacking the remaining two hours to arrive at the shelter, this magnificent sight met us. The last rays of sunlight seeping through the subtle cloud cover and a band of rain made the scene even more impressive. I took my camera off a couple times, then five minutes later we were in total darkness ... We still had two hours to walk to reach the shelter, of course the rain did not spare us before we arrived, but we have reached our destination without hassle.

So much work to offer a wallpaper ...

as usual in 2 versions

1280 × 800

2560 × 1600

For those interested in the photo at least, the concept of decisive moment made by Henri Cartier-Bresson is not unknown.

When I started photography, I have often wondered how photographers like Robert Doisneau, Steve McCurry, or just Henri Cartier-Bresson came to capture those decisive moments and with equal success. How did it take to get the right way, good sunshine, or the dog that passes in the final image plane, which gives new meaning to the picture and with the compositions always impeccable. I thought that all this belonged to a little luck and the ability of the artist to "smell good shot."

By taking interest closer to some photographers, I told myself that they really were lucky and had a lot of flair. I soon realized that in fact it was not.

I realized that this whole progressing decisive moment of history was largely a matter of determination and perseverance. I've realized when I took the photo that I use for my exhibition "Faces of Laos" .

I walked the streets of a village, when I saw these children playing "catch me if you can." I knew I could make a good photo with all this joy and energy from this group of children. I am discreet and I am sitting in a corner of the alley. I first watched the kids for a while, then I stayed for an hour at least to start.

Of all the pictures I have taken of this meeting, only one satisfied me with a good kid with good expression, which is passed to the right place, with good characters in the background ... finally, and strength patience, I managed to get the picture I wanted and capture the moment which seemed decisive.

The decisive moment is primarily a matter of determination and perseverance. Exit to return to the right place repeatedly, note the passing of such person as cycling, such a dog and stay posted for hours to seize this moment. By taking interest in methods of work of photographers that I thought lucky and having a flair, my understanding of the decisive moment has been confirmed.

It's all about spending many hours searching for suitable places to look for the best framework, and numerous hours to wait.

A story of patience and observation ...

I strolled calmly through the streets of a medieval-style city of Nepal. The weather was wet, it would certainly rain. The sun filtered through the layer of clouds, a soft diffused light golden hue. After a few detours and street corners, I arrived at one of the main squares of the city: a large area paved with red brick courtyard serves a Hindu temple that sits proudly at the end of the place.

I move to the old and imposing building and see him sitting at the entrance, an odd-looking character. He is a beggar who took up residence at the porch of the temple. It meets my gaze, then, under his thick whitish beard, gives me a smile. I hello, clasping both hands and one, a gesture of welcome, inviting me to settle down on the porch and spend a moment. I accept this invitation and sit at one end of the porch.

From this promontory divine, I watch the excitement of the place and I lost in my thoughts. I watch this scene in the theatrical style that takes some areas of comedy: the children who are fighting kites, dogs who run after goats that wander aimlessly around the square, women dressed sumptuous brightly colored saris, elders who spend time looking, tractor carrying fruits, vegetables, chickens, pottery ... the whole life flashes before my eyes endlessly. I guess there are a few centuries, the same scene is played the same way. An old man sat close to me and stared the sweet excitement, just to let time slip.

A light rain began to fall eventually. The Interlocking normally dull and rough appearance, began to shine, reflecting the soft ambient light. The place seemed then drape a fabric woven with gold thread and the pavement shone like ingots sunlight. The atmosphere was amazing, almost unreal. The old man installed by me, as inspired by this peaceful atmosphere, began to hum a traditional tune somewhat melancholy. His voice, eroded by years, was in perfect harmony with the surroundings and made this magic moment. All the elements seemed to have combined to offer me this sublime spectacle. Leaning against the old walls of the temple, I was calm, serene, relaxed and deeply moved by such beauty.

I said then that the beggar had not invited under this porch to nothing. It was like this one, like a guardian of the temple, told me:

- "Just take the time to discover what this place has ancestral to show you. Come hear what these walls, loaded with hundreds of years of history, you have to pass. Laying roof and observe quietly. "

I would leave the temple completely calm and I respectfully saluted the "gatekeeping" before descending the stairs.

I took a picture of this rather unusual Guardian a few days later. I returned several times under the porch of the temple for me to relax, read, write, think, and the beggar asked me every time the same way.

Sometimes it is good to slow down or even stop. Know the time without letting go of having imperative because, losing time, we gain some great times.

I was walking near Pokhara, the lake is Phewa "in Nepal. I walked aimlessly, nor intend to shoot anything. it was already several hours I randonnés When I got in a little village bordering the rice paddies.

A break was well deserved and I decided to stop in a kind of coffee. I enjoy a quiet "Masala Chai" and then, a great lover of tea, I ordered a second. I let myself gently rocking back and forth by the incessant passing of all kinds: wagons loaded straw, rice, cycling, men and women returning from the field, tracking a school peeled unfortunate dog that was on the way back to the school ... I scrutinize relentlessly the sweet effervescence that still soothes me.

Not far from me, stands a small audience. Some elders are gathered around a tree and actively discuss I do not know what topics. Even if I try to jabber bases of the local language, I am unable to identify the subject of argument. Yet I would give much to understand what it is.

Among members of this mini senate, a man seems to stand out. It seems the older, and seems to have the respect of others. I'm already on my third Masala Chai when suddenly assembled dispersed leaving only the old man enthroned by his tree. Then it extends on the carpet on which he sat, and began a nap. So i had a bunch of questions: Is it wise of the village, how old is he, he always lived here? Certainly. My imagination is bubbly.

After a while of reading (I always have a book with me when traveling), I decided to continue my journey and go quietly. The man has done with his nap, and now sits in a squatting position, like the Asians do so well know for hours, smoking a cigarette with two or three friends. Certainly, the former seems to be a person of importance in this town.

While I get up and gather my things, I noticed that the man seemed puzzled by my person. I understand now that my hair's the subject of inquiry. I'm going to pay for my consumption, and leaving the small "coffee" man challenges me. Surprised at first, I look around me if we speak good words, silly reaction because all the attention of the man seems to be focused on me. Frankly intimidated, I approached the old man. It beckons me to approach a little more, looking for me he would look at my hair. Even more intimidating to be inspected by the "wise" of the village, I lean, leaving him plenty of time to satisfy his curiosity. analysis and capillary theories seem to be on track between the former assistants, while sketching a smile, amused by the spontaneity of my observers.

Once the results and conclusions drawn, the kindly old dismisses me approvingly. I lr wagging (so to acquiesce Nepalese) as a sign of respect and then, using all my insolence, I asked him if I can take a picture. The man accepts without hesitation and without delay I leave my camera from the bottom of my bag. I frame, trigger, the former pose like a movie star, I'm thrilled. The latter, concerned about his image asks me to see the result. I turn the camera, consult the wise man once more and turn around the assistants with the box again approvingly. I thanked him respectfully, then went back to my place of destination.

I particularly like this picture because the former is an expression inspiring assurance of a man of experience (as I felt on seeing one else) and an air of star that I adore ...

But what pleases me most about this picture is that it is the result of a shared curiosity, an exchange where everyone has found his account.

This is the way I see it travel photography, and I try to practice it.

I want to tell you this note in the history of this picture because it taught me a lot about patience and determination and changed my way of photographing.

Photographing landscapes of New Zealand is exciting: the lights are sublime, varied landscapes, impressive, magnificent. All this necessarily mix with long moments of solitude to await the soft lights makes this country a special place for photographers.

There are already some months I scoured New Zealand in alternating odd jobs and moments dedicated to the pictures. I walked for a week or two on the east coast of south island. If there was a place in NZ that a hit among photographers, are the Moeraki Boulders near Dunedin. These large spherical concretions lying on the beach, almost certain to 2m diameter. They ask a lot of questions about the provenance of these balls and why we do think that in this particular location. The Maori, the original inhabitants of the island, claiming that the vessel of a god would have failed on the beach and the divine baskets were scattered on the sand ... the Boulders are the remnants of these provisions.

I discovered the site obviously very popular with "tourists" (which I am one) and spent almost two hours on site to observe, walk around the stones, trying different frames, different height of the tripod ... After two hours, I n "I took no pictures and I packed up my equipment. I found a frame that suits me, but I really want to have a beautiful light, which can make the photograph mystical, almost surreal because the place is what inspires me.

Like many landscape photo, I program I shot for the early morning light. I find the hours of standing and sunset and times of the tides to ensure that the rock will not be covered by water.

The next morning, my alarm goes off at 5am and it's a bit sleepy as I headed to the site. The sun is still below the horizon, some clouds are emerging gradually. I install the tripod quickly but accurately. It will go fast. Everything is close. The clouds finally invade the whole horizon leaving no chance for sun. I wait another half hour to see if the clouds past the sun deign to leave, but he did nothing. Anyway, it is too late. Half an hour after survey, the light is too strong for my taste, it does not give me the subtlety that I searched for this photo. I decided to store my equipment and procrastinate.

When we got up early, the days are long, very long, especially when one expects the next morning ... I take this opportunity to read, think, dream and watch the yellow eye penguins made their home is not far away. Same scenario as the previous morning, except that I install my camera without much conviction because the clouds are even denser than yesterday. It is still missed! I pack, back in my truck equipped to read, think, dream, and observe the same yellow-eye penguins. I pray I do not know what god for the bad weather does not persist.

5am, I open the curtains of my mobile home and despairs at seeing the sky full. I still decides to return to the beach not really convinced of the success of the operation. Everything is mounted, the frame is the millimeter (I had time to refine it!), I am a final estimate of the light. Under my watch, the rays should break the horizon in five minutes. As the light rises, the clouds tear timidly. The first rays pierce the clouds tinting recalcitrant yellow color. Everything accelerates, I remeasurement light fires two or three times with different exposures (this does not return empty-handed). The clouds give just the right texture so that the horizon does not seem too bland. Five minutes after the survey, the clouds take over the top leaving no place in the sun.

I send the film to be developed without too much delay, and ... ... only two weeks later I get the slides and at the same time the reward for my persistence. These three days have been waiting very long, I almost give up several times, but the picture is exactly what I had imagined before, and I do not regret watching the yellow-eye penguins!