A year of photography and film

Steven here, while Linda takes a well-earned break. We sometimes joke that the travel gods are looking down on us because, since getting on the road, we have been lucky to avoid things like bad weather, forest fires or any kind of natural event. Of course, we didn’t dodge the effects of the coronavirus but we certainly made the best of it.

After spending 3 months in lockdown just south of Paris, we were more than ready to get back on the road. What followed was a truly unique opportunity to visit major attractions with only a handful of tourists around. Aside from those who are already living in Europe, there are only a few Americans traveling as we do. It’s been quite a privilege to be here right now and a blast to record our experiences.

When I shoot, it is about so much more than taking a literal picture of a thing in front of me. I am driven by a need to capture the feeling and/or magic of a moment. There are photographs here that I wouldn’t regard as technically great but they embody something deeper and that’s ultimately what matters to me.

With that in mind, here are some of my favorite images and I’ll attempt to throw some light on how they came about.

When we heard that the first lockdown in France was imminent, we made a beeline for Sens, with a few stops along the way. One of those stops was Capbreton, a little coastal area of France. Nerves were on edge during this time but, that evening, I managed to spot some surfers on the nearby beach. I happily snapped away for about an hour, watching as the beautiful colors of sunset grew richer and richer. This is one of my favorite images because of the way the sun backlights the surfer and the surf itself. His pose is so dynamic and really captures the energy of that evening.
On the day we left Sens in France, after three months of lockdown, we felt a sense of vulnerability. This time we were going into the great unknown, a world that had been radically changed by the pandemic. We felt like strangers in a strange land in a strange time. We found a little campground on the French border and this wonderful red barn caught my eye. I used to paint with oil on canvas and occasionally I’ll see a scene that feels more like a painting than a photograph. I processed the image with that in mind. I love the delicate “strokes” of the grass and the bold red of the barn. The birds returning home for the night added to the sense of serenity.
This is one of many little towns we went through in Germany. The name escapes me but the architecture is typical of the region. There is much of Europe that just looks and feels like America but, when we drive through streets like this, I remember where I am. This street has a fairytale quality to it and, with people still somewhat hunkered down because of coronavirus, it was almost entirely empty. It added to the surreal feeling of the moment.
The Mosel river in Germany is one of our favorite memories of 2020. It’s completely set up for riding bicycles. I had seen many postcards like this when I was a kid and, as beautiful as this photograph is, when I lowered the camera from my eyes, it looked exactly the same. I had a sense of being in another world and in another time. The world is in constant flux but places like this seem to resist those outside forces. I like frames inside the frame of a photograph and I think the dripping willow branches gave it a nice sense of being on the banks of the river.
When we planned to visit the Leopold Museum in Vienna, I was expecting long lines which meant lots of people in enclosed spaces. When we got there it was an entirely different story. Many of the popular galleries inside the museum, including this one, were desolate. Although the pandemic has made life much more challenging for many people, in a way, it has given us a peek into an alternate world, one where tour buses and clamoring tourists don’t exist. A world where art can be enjoyed in a solitary way and a place one can walk down cobblestone streets in uninterrupted contemplation. We never lose sight of how lucky we are. This sculpture, framed with beautiful Viennese architecture behind, perfectly summed up that privilege for me.
This is another frame within a frame at Schonbrunn Palace in Austria. It’s actually behind the giant fountain. Another hotspot for tourists but not on this day.
I hadn’t seen The Sound of Music for a few decades but I decided I wanted to watch it again just before we arrived in Austria, specifically Salzburg. With some of the iconic scenes still fresh in my mind, we drove through the Austrian countryside and it felt like an IMAX screen out our front window. Giant looming mountains everywhere, fields of rich colors and old churches with impossibly high steeples, it was all I could do to keep my mouth closed. On one of the many days we went biking, this particular vista caught my eye. With my penchant for composing frames within frames, the trees served as a perfect way to lead the eye to the distant mountain. But, beyond that, the photograph captures the atmosphere of the place, that sense of peace I felt common in so much of this country. It’s hard to embody an entire experience in one frame but this one comes close for me.
I’m not sure who Elisa and Marius are but I’m sure they were in love at the moment they put this padlock on the fence. Behind it is the famous Neuschwanstein Castle in Germany. I couldn’t wait to shoot this place from the most famous viewpoint, a hanging bridge that is usually packed with tourists. When we arrived, there were only a few people (joy!). I challenged myself to capture something other than a typical composition.
Although this is only one of the many artist renderings on the Berlin Wall, it spoke to me. I’m sure it is meant to have a specific interpretation but, in this pandemic world, the close proximity of all of these people represents, to me, certain death. When I’m walking around just minding my own business, I sometimes forget the chaos going on all around me. This mural brought it all back. To truly appreciate its impact, you really have to stand next to it. The scale makes it feel all the more frightening. The history of the Berlin Wall and what it represents is so dense, so full of misery and conflict, I just didn’t have time to soak it all in but I felt some of it from this mural.
This was shot in east Berlin and, although the Wall is no more, there is still a lingering reminder of the way it used to be. The architecture on this side of the city is distinctly different and a constant reminder of what was once the great divide.
What’s most amazing about this photograph is not my beautiful wife (although she is amazing), but the fact that it was mid morning on a sunny day at one of the most famous monuments in the world, the Brandenburg Gate. At any other time, in the last few years, it would be bursting at the seams with tourists and tour buses. What I find about places like this is when there are so many people trying to get selfies with their phones and tablets, not to mention the lack of awareness of peoples’ personal space, it’s hard to enjoy it. I walk away with a sense of relief rather than feeling like I had just witnessed something of historical significance. This day we were certainly able to take the time to contemplate the rich history of Berlin. Although, every time I look at this image even I feel like it has been photoshopped!
This was one of those lucky photographer moments. I was in Prague, wandering around the exterior of one of the palaces in the city when, all of a sudden, two large groups of people vacated the courtyard right and left leaving the center empty. Along came this nun, hurriedly walking to wherever she needed to be. I got one shot off and a new crowd returned and the nun soon disappeared. I only had my iPhone with me at the time, but technology is now so good, it can easily compete with my big camera for this type of shot. This ranks up there as one of my all time favorite images.
Sometimes I make photographs so that I will remember a moment. Other times, I’m going for a well-composed image that stands alone. This is one of the former situations. I heard the clip clop of the horses and snapped this within the few seconds it took for them to pass me by. What appealed to me is the sense of old and new. The cars are modern but the carriage, as a mode of transport, is antique. The buildings in the background and spires of the church capture the disparate historical architecture that is quintessential Prague.
I made this photograph of one of the ferries in Amsterdam, not because I thought it was a particularly pretty or impressive boat, it was because of the man standing at the back staring over at me. His mask, in particular, transformed a mundane scene into something more ominous. It is a reminder of the new paradigm. We now only see the eyes of strangers.
A classic Amsterdam shopfront, complete with gorgeous morning light and a bicycle. Amsterdam is one of the most bike-friendly places we’ve ever been. This little shop is from something of a bygone world but there is still a place for it right on this corner.
We were staying at a campground near Kinderdijk in the Netherlands and the rain was pouring down. Never be to be defeated when it comes to photography, I looked out the window and imagined this windmill as a watercolor painting. The cascading water on the windshield provided the illusion of dripping dabs of paint.
This is the most famously photographed group of windmills in Kinderdijk. Of course I stood where everyone else has stood for decades and captured the requisite shot. But, when I got back on my bike, I saw the windmills through my mirror. It seemed like a nice variation of a classic shot. The inclusion of the bike mirror in the shot added to the story inside the image.
This is one of the most photographed group of windmills in Kinderdijk. When I got there on this morning, it was dreary and I had put my camera away. For a brief moment, the clouds opened up and a heavenly light appeared. There literally wasn’t time to take my camera out of my bag so I snapped this with my iPhone. It never ceases to amaze me what these little devices are capable of these days. Seconds later the light was gone and did not reappear during this particular visit.
When we returned to Sens to get some work done on our camping car, I really wanted to go to Paris again. The notion of taking public transport during the pandemic, particularly journeying to a heavily populated city, was daunting. Nevertheless, I decided to go. What a strange experience it was. There were virtually no tourists to be seen. I counted 8 people outside the Louvre and about half of them were residents on their way to work. I found this little corner to shoot the Eiffel Tower and it’s a favorite image of mine because it encapsulates the atmosphere of a desolate city.
I shot this image on the way up to the Jungfrau in Switzerland. There was something about the colors, the depth of the scene and the light that made it look like a frame from a big budget movie.
When we visited Alaska back in 2016, I felt like I was completely insignificant next to the majesty and scale of the landscape before me. I had that feeling again when visiting Jungfrau. Standing on the viewing platform and just contemplating the grandeur of the massive glacier sprawling before me certainly put things in perspective and I found it comforting. We are not as important as we sometimes think we are.
I am constantly attuned to light. Whether or not I have a camera in my hand is irrelevant. But when I do have a camera, it can sometimes be an interesting challenge to figure out the best composition. There have been occasions where Mother Nature has intervened by shining a spotlight on what’s important. This little church in Grimentz, Switzerland happened to be in that spotlight as I walked by. Like many places I’ve been to in Europe, I felt like I was inside a story book, a fairytale. The combination of the structure, the light, the colors and what’s not captured here…the quiet…all of it came together in that moment to create this picture.
This has to be one of the most breathtaking places we have ever stayed for the night, overlooking Lake Lucerne in Switzerland. The photo barely does it justice because this place is all about scale. However, it serves as a reminder of the beauty in the world and how lucky we are to be traveling to such locations during these crazy times.
I’m not usually a big fan of panorama photographs but there are some places that cry out to be captured in widescreen. This beautiful church in Lugano, Switzerland with the picturesque trees creating leading lines was irresistible to shoot. Of course, the sky drama added the finishing touch.
Venice, what can I say? I had high expectations and the city easily delivered. Chiaroscuro, the contrast of light and shadow, is ever-present here. I love this composition because my eye is tempted to go up the stairs or down to the water. Each time I look at it, I choose a different path.
When we arrived in Venice, I wanted to come away with one photograph that I was ecstatic about. You would imagine in a city like this, it wouldn’t be very hard. But what I was looking for specifically was to capture two things; a sense of timelessness and something that resembled a painting more than a photograph. With this shot, I feel like I accomplished both. This is hands down my favorite image of Venice.
On the day I shot this scene, a thick fog was lifting. But there was still enough off in the distance to separate the gondolas from the background cathedral. I love fog and snow because they reduce busy landscapes to their bare essence.
There’s not much to say about this gorgeous scene in Lake Bled, Slovenia. It’s all there to see, fall colors, snow-covered mountains, a castle atop a giant rock, a church in the middle of the lake, another church off in the distance. Fall is my favorite season. It’s a mourning for the hazy days of summer and a warning for the approaching darkness of winter. Somewhere in between is perfection.
Part of the appeal of this photograph for me is its deceptive nature. The tree (I’m making an educated guess here) is not native to the region but instead, was planted by the campground where we stayed in Vrsar, Croatia. It looks like a tropical scene. Croatia was a surprise to me because my understanding of geography was still stuck with names like Yugoslavia and Czechoslovakia, neither of which exist anymore. Croatia is as modern a country as any in Europe and the diversity of its landscape is quite something to see.
Another frame within a frame photograph. I thought this was pretty clever overlooking Vrsar in Croatia. These viewpoints are like windows, just as it is looking through the viewfinder of my camera.
The town of Rovinj in Croatia has many narrow streets and arches. On an overcast day, it would be easy for this scene to go unnoticed but the light was stunning and the vivid color of the building separated the arch beautifully.
I can’t resist shooting old cobblestone streets. We’ve come across many like this in Europe but there are usually cars parked all over or people walking about. At the moment of this capture in Rovinj, it looked completely devoid of any life but it has a mystery and physical depth to it that makes it intriguing for me.
This is the Pula Arena in Croatia. This is one of those photographs that I love but I’m not entirely sure why. Maybe it’s the low, wide angle or the colors or the structure itself. Either way, it’s an abstract representation of the place but seems to embody the entire experience of being there for me.
The sea is a restless soul. One day she is smooth as glass, the next she unleashes her power with enormous waves. This was at the end of a storm in Krk Island and I loved how the sunlight penetrated the spray of the breaking waves.
As I am sitting here writing this caption in Krk, I am actually looking out at the water from this exact same angle. Today is dreary and the sun refused to shine but when it takes center stage, the light show is spectacular. Here, rays from the heavens light up the Adriatic Sea.

This is just a sampling of all the things we’ve done and the photographs I have accumulated over the past year. It doesn’t even include Morocco, where we spent 6 weeks, pre-COVID.

Also this year, a photographer friend of mine began experimenting with a pinhole attached to his camera. Only he was shooting video, not stills. Being a filmmaker myself and always interested in experimenting, his work inspired me. Essentially I’m using a plastic body cap with a tiny hole in front of the camera instead of an actual lens so there’s no glass at all. The results yield a kind of Silent Era look. I began creating what became a series of short films documenting my thoughts about the pandemic coupled with imagery from some of the major cities we were visiting at the time. You can clearly see the scant amount of tourists about.

I’ll include a link below to No Ordinary World, the first of the series and, if you’re interested in seeing more, you can click on this link for a playlist.

So yeah, it’s been a strange year but we’ve certainly managed to make the best of it. In answer to Dirty Harry’s famous question “Do you feel lucky? Well, do you punk??” Yes, I do. Very much so.


UP NEXT: Croatia’s national parks!


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24 Comments

  3. Maggie Barrett

    As I have said before, you two are great spirits. I love that you took the time to go through your images from this strange year and share your process with us. Joel. Btw, is impressed. We wish you both health and the continuing joy of discovery. With love. Maggie.

    1. 2chouters

      Always lovely to hear from you Maggie. I have a lot of respect for Joel so it’s an honor that he was impressed. I hope you two are able to travel a bit more freely in this coming year. Only time will tell but I remain optimistic. Maybe we’ll even be able to come visit. Fingers crossed! Happy New Year.

  4. Colibaba’s

    As usual your photos are spectacular and I really enjoyed the description and feelings that each gave you. Happy New Year to you both and safe and healthy travels!

    1. 2chouters

      Thank you so much. It’s equally fun and daunting to take on a blog post like this but I’m always happy to share it with everyone when I’m done. Happy New Year to you also.

  5. Jodee Gravel

    What a treat!! Being where you were, when you were, is an exceptional gift. I’m so grateful you’ve shared it with me. When in beautiful, popular locations I spend a lot of time trying to capture a view without people in it so I can imagine the surreal joy of all these opportunities to see and feel beauty and history without others. I’m always inspired by your process narrative, wanting to grab the camera and head out the door to find my own frames. The nun in Prague is still a favorite, capturing a feel centuries in the making. That red barn though……makes me feel like I could step into it and smear the paint across the side of barn with my fingers. Thanks so much!!
    Happy New Year to you and Linda. Love and miss you guys bunches :-))

    1. 2chouters

      Thanks for your thoughts, Jodee. It’s nice to know that you are inspired! It was equally joyous and surreal in these amazing cities although, I’m not going to lie, it was also a little anxiety-inducing. In some places you could tell that people took the virus very seriously but then there were other cities, such as Prague and most of Switzerland, actually where you’d be hard-pressed to know there was a global pandemic going on. Still, I’m glad we did it and came out the other side with our health still intact. Happy New Year to you and Bill. One of these days, we will reunite.

  9. Richard & Emma

    Happy New Year guys! Thank you for taking the time to share all these amazing images and stories with us, thoroughly enjoyed reading and viewing! I particularly like the windmill in the rain photograph – fabulous!
    Wishing you a safe and healthy 2021. Take care.

  11. Donna

    The two of you live the most magical, blessed life! I love your write ups and pictures so much! Thank you for sharing your travels with us who can only dream of visiting these beautiful places.

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