balding angrily

This morning I got the chance to go to a press preview (sounds so official, right?) of a new exhibit of architectural models at the Nasher Sculpture Center. It’s called The Art of Architecture: Foster + Partners, and it was planned in conjunction with the eminent opening of Dallas’ new Winspear Opera House, designed by Foster + Partners.

Aside from the room dedicated to the Winspear, there were approximately twenty other architectural models of bass wood, plastic, lights, and, in one case, a working elevator. Spencer de Grey, Head of Design at Foster + Partners walked the various reporters around the exhibition space and talked about each project.

But this is all about me. It’s my website, dammit. I got the invitation through my work with The Advocate, even though The Advocate doesn’t cover Dallas’ expanding arts district—the Winspear and Nasher being key components— so I took the opportunity to shoot a whole lot of photographs of beautiful models. The Nasher doesn’t usually permit photography, so, score!

A photography teacher once told my class, “The only difference between professional photographers and you is that the professional photographers don’t show you their mistakes.” In that vein, I’m only showing you my favorites.

One note: the Nasher Sculpture Center is just an amazing indoor space for photography. Only one of these photographs required a flash. It’s always awesome to get good photographs with ambient light. I also got to play with photoshop to correct lens distortions—I made vertical lines true.

De Grey talks about one of the models in the exhibition.

 

 

 

 A model of The Great Court at the British Museum in London. I would like to be able to erase myself out of the reflection. I like the other reflections.

 

 

I tried to capture the eagles’ nest that the model builders had placed on this tower platform. The nest didn’t come out clearly, but I still like the tower structure against the beautiful ceiling treatment inside the Nasher.

 

 

He’s a little man doing his little job.

 

 

This is the only photo that has a flash, and I’m very proud of myself that I was able to manipulate the flash control on my camera so that it doesn’t look like a flash photo. I love macro photography; I think I need to get a macro lens.

Here’s the promised follow-up. I mentioned in the comments to the last post that there was a news crew taping my time in the wheelchair. Here it is. Bask in my luminescence.

Also, for Nick, the charity is Winners on Wheels. I would link to it, but the website is down. One of the people in charge of the event, the contact with Winners on Wheels, tried explaining why the website was down, but I was too busy bitching about getting water to hear her.

Brendan Higgins is a himbo.  If you follow the wikipedia definition, it’s no surprise that a local news anchor is an “attractive but vacuous man.”  That was the whole premise of Anchorman.

What’s a surprise to me is that I just figured it out this morning.  Every school-day I wake up, scratch my chest and ass, stand in front of the mirror for about ten minutes trying to determine if I can see my ribs better, pinch my love handles trying to determine if they’ve gotten smaller overnight, take a shower, feeling my other parts that might have grown or shrunk, and pour myself a bowl of cereal.  Then I turn on Channel 5 News, watch Brendan and Deborah and chew fiber goodness intending to make my stool nice and loose.  Maybe it’s the cereal or the news, but it works like a charm every day.

This morning Brendan and Deborah had to vamp before it went to weather.  I expect my news to be relatively free of chatter.  I don’t want to know that he went to the game last night right after hearing a story about a person who died in a flash flood.  It’s my thought that Brendan ended up an anchor unwittingly.  He really wants to be the sports guy.  I’m thinking this as I watch Deborah react to his dopey smiley comments with a straight face.  She encourages him.  She thinks his blather is fine for a morning news program.  I said to myself, “what an idiot…but he’s cute.”  And I loves me some dumb, cute guys: Ashton Kutcher, Sean William Scott, Johnny Knoxville: I loves ‘em.  That’s when I realized that Brendan Higgins is a himbo; I like him like I like Joey Tribbiani.

I feel I’ve grown since I’ve had this moment of self-realization.

Also, I love a good person-gets-caught-in-their-car-in-a-flash-flood news story.  I love pictures of cars sinking into water with people standing on top of them.