Too Busy Watching Evening Television

“Why the ancient civilizations who built the place did not use the easier, nearby rocks remains a mystery. But the skills and knowledge on display at Stonehenge are not. The major phases of construction took a total of a few hundred years. Perhaps the preplanning took another hundred or so. You can build anything in half a millennium – I don’t care how far you choose to drag your bricks. Furthermore, the astronomy embodied in Stonehenge is not fundamentally deeper than what can be discovered with a stick in the ground.

Perhaps these ancient observatories perennially impress modern people because modern people have no idea how the Sun, Moon, or stars move. We are too busy watching evening television to care what’s going on in the sky. To us, a simple rock alignment based on cosmic patterns looks like an Einsteinian feat. But a truly mysterious civilization would be one that made no cultural or architectural reference to the sky at all.”
― Neil deGrasse Tyson, Death by Black Hole: And Other Cosmic Quandaries

View down Elm Street from walkway, near Harwood.  Downtown Dallas, Texas

View down Elm Street from walkway, near Harwood.
Downtown Dallas, Texas

For awhile now I have been interested in the phenomenon of Dallashenge. This is when, one certain days of the year, the sun is aligned to rise or set directly on a line with one of the major canyon streets of downtown, either in the evening or in the morning.

A lot of people do photography in New York at Manhattanhenge, but few realize the same phenomenon occurs in other big cities.

You can use Suncalc to determine the henge dates. I’ve gone downtown a few times to shoot both the morning and evening henges.

Morning Dallashenge from the triple underpass in Dealey Plaza.

Morning Dallashenge from the triple underpass in Dealey Plaza.

Links to blog entries:

Test Shots for Dallashenge

Dallashenge Photographs

Test Shots for a Morning Dallashenge

Morning Dallashenge – maybe a couple days early

Two Days Later

When I first did this I had to look around for shot locations. One place I thought would be good was the pedestrian bridge over Elm Street – but at the time I wasn’t sure how to get into the thing or what the view would look like, so I opted for a street-level view.

Here’s a test shot I took that shows the pedestrian bridge.

Elm and Harwood Streets. I like this view. I'm not sure if the pedestrian bridge will ruin the shot. Also, the Lew Sterrett jail is at the end of the street and may block the sun's orb..

Elm and Harwood Streets. I like this view. I’m not sure if the pedestrian bridge will ruin the shot. Also, the Lew Sterrett jail is at the end of the street and may block the sun’s orb..

At any rate, the other day I went on a tour of some of Downtown Dallas’ pedestrian tunnels and bridges.

As part of the tour we passed through the pedestrian bridge – it’s easy to get to and even has a cool coffee shop, Stupid Good Coffee nearby.

As you can see from the photo I took (the first one in this entry) during the tour, the view from the walkway is pretty good. One problem though, is that the distant Lew Sterrett jail blocks the horizon, so the best shot might be a couple days later (or before… I’ll have to think about it).

Plus, the tunnel system is officially only open from six to six and the sun sets at about six forty five – so I’d have to overstay a bit. A tripod set up with a camera might be a defense – we’ll have to see.

The next evening dallashenge date looks to be around October 26, so I have some time to think about it.

With Cities, It Is As With Dreams

“With cities, it is as with dreams: everything imaginable can be dreamed, but even the most unexpected dream is a rebus that conceals a desire or, its reverse, a fear. Cities, like dreams, are made of desires and fears, even if the thread of their discourse is secret, their rules are absurd, their perspectives deceitful, and everything conceals something else.”
― Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities

Downtown Dallas from the Commerce Street Overlook (Please click on image for a larger version on Flickr)

Downtown Dallas from the Commerce Street Overlook
(Please click on image for a larger version on Flickr)

The Great Floodgates of the Wonder-World Swung Open

“…the great floodgates of the wonder-world swung open…”
― Herman Melville, Moby-Dick; or, The Whale

Margaret Hunt Hill Bridge, from the Commerce Street Viaduct Dallas, Texas (please click the image for a larger and better version on Flickr)

Margaret Hunt Hill Bridge, from the Commerce Street Viaduct
Dallas, Texas
(please click the image for a larger and better version on Flickr)

After the Uptown Cyclovia on Sunday, I rode my bike down to the Trinity River – visiting the flood stage water at several places. It was quite a sight to see. I filled up my digital card with photos – I’ll be putting them up here as I process them.

This photo I took at sunset from the sidewalk along Commerce Street. The sun just peeked out from under the clouds for a few seconds.

The blog format can’t do this photo justice – Please click to visit on Flickr.

Deep Like the Rivers

“I’ve known rivers:
I’ve known rivers ancient as the world and older than the flow of human blood in human veins.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.”
― Langston Hughes

looking

Looking up the Mississippi from the French Quarter Levee.
New Orleans, Louisiana

Street Lights As Planets And Stars

“There was a sky somewhere above the tops of the buildings, with stars and a moon and all the things there are in a sky, but they were content to think of the distant street lights as planets and stars. If the lights prevented you from seeing the heavens, then perform a little magic and change reality to fit the need. The street lights were now planets and stars and moon. ”
― Hubert Selby Jr., Requiem for a Dream

I was riding my bike west down Gaston under that awful elevated freeway and when I emerged I saw the final stages of sunset over the crystal spires of the city. The moon was a tiny thumbnail shaving floating in the sky. I pulled over into a weedy lot and fished my camera out of my pack.

As I was shooting, a guy in a car at the light said, “I was coming in from the east on I30 and the sun was a big orange ball behind the city.”

I nodded and tried to think of something witty to say, but the light went green and he shouted, “Gotta go.”

Downtown Dallas at sunset.

Downtown Dallas at sunset.

Traffic

I think the key image of the 20th century is the man in the motor car. It sums up everything: the elements of speed, drama, aggression, the junction of advertising and consumer goods with the technological landscape. The sense of violence and desire, power and energy; the shared experience of moving together through an elaborately signalled landscape.
We spend a substantial part of our lives in the motor car, and the experience of driving condenses many of the experiences of being a human being…, the marriage of the physical aspects of ourselves with the imaginative and technological aspects of our lives. I think the 20th century reaches its highest expression on the highway. Everything is there: the speed and violence of our age; the strange love affair with the machine, with its own death.
—-J.G. Ballard, Narration for Crash! (1971), a short film by Harley Cokeliss

(click to enlarge)

(click to enlarge)

“In a sense life in the high-rise had begun to resemble the world outside – there were the same ruthlessness and agression concealed within a set of polite conventions.”
― J.G. Ballard, High-Rise

Dallas Skyline Old and New

“Artists use frauds to make human beings seem more wonderful than they really are. Dancers show us human beings who move much more gracefully than human beings really move. Films and books and plays show us people talking much more entertainingly than people really talk, make paltry human enterprises seem important. Singers and musicians show us human beings making sounds far more lovely than human beings really make. Architects give us temples in which something marvelous is obviously going on. Actually, practically nothing is going on.”
― Kurt Vonnegut, Wampeters, Foma and Granfalloons

Dallas Skyline, Arts District

Dallas Skyline, Arts District

Old and New – El Cathedral Guadalupe and the Eye of Sauron.

I like photographs that I take because I can look at them and they will bring back the sensations and emotions I felt in the instant that I pressed the shutter. In this one I can feel the summer heat still coming off the sidewalk as the evening cools off. I can see the bright “magic hour” preternaturally colored light bouncing off the buildings all around me making the shapes and angles sharper than they otherwise are. I can hear the honking of the Friday evening traffic – office drones desperately trying to get home, delivery trucks dropping off the last loads of the day, the opera patrons heading for the parking garage. I smell the diesel exhaust mixing with the cooking wafting from the local, sidewalk-level restaurants, gearing up for the dinner crowd. I remember the feel of the rough sidewalk under my feet.

I remember the excitement of the workday being over and the anticipation of hearing some live music. I remember the layering of memories as I walked down a familiar street that had changed drastically, completely, since the first day I had set foot – changed almost as much as I had. I remember the slight smile on my face.

Without this photo, these memories are lost in time.

I’ve… seen things you people wouldn’t believe… Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched c-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. All those… moments… will be lost in time, like tears… in… rain. Time… to die…
—-Rutger Hauer, Blade Runner

Woodall Rogers

I took this photograph as a message to a friend. If they see it they won’t know it is to them and they won’t understand what it says. And neither do I.

Woodall Rogers Freeway (click to enlarge)

Woodall Rogers Freeway
(click to enlarge)

Magazine Street at Sunset

“There is something strange about agony; the memory of it can be terribly short-lived when the contrast of revival and a pretty spring afternoon have dispelled the regrets. One drink of vodka in a cheerful glass, in the company of good poetry and the scent of blossoms and earth might entice the most well intended to forgo promise of atonement until a worse time. I have at times been just less than amazed how one drink merges with the second, where at some unknown point a mental transformation sets in. I have never been able to ascertain at what point that is–not precisely–and I have been conscious of trying to catch that moment, to try and understand it, to try and prevent it from happening, or at least have a fair chance to decide whether or not to cross over into that other realm. Such an elusive thing, this is.”
― Ronald Everett Capps, Off Magazine Street

When you talk to someone that has visited New Orleans, they will tend to say, “Yeah, I’ve been there, I walked up and down Bourbon Street.” On our last trip, we spent a week in New Orleans and I never set foot on Bourbon. It’s all tourist, all the time, in a bad way. Trash tourist.

There is another street that has plenty of tourist in it, but in a good way. Magazine Street. I spent a lot of time on Magazine. Our Guest House was at Magazine and Race, not far out from downtown. But Magazine runs a long way. Decatur street in the French Quarter changes into Magazine as it crosses the neutral ground of Canal and then Magazine follows the curve of the river all the way through the Arts District, Garden District and Uptown until it pierces the gorgeous Audubon Park.

At every major cross street it holds a cluster of restaurants, nightclubs, shops, and everything else. In between are fabulous examples of the amazing New Orleans architecture, from Gothic old mansions to rows of shotgun houses.

A walk down Magazine is a great walk. Be careful, though – it is a long street. I still have memories and pains in my ankles from a stroll we took a couple years ago. Near the beginning, I turned an ankle on a bit of rough sidewalk broken pavement and then hiked too far from the car. The trip back will forever be etched in my mind as the “Magazine Street Death March.”

Magazine Street, New Orleans

 (Click to view a larger version on Flickr)

I saw a bit on television about the uselessness of a college education. The reporter wandered New Orleans interviewing bouncers, bartenders, cooks, and pedicab drivers – even a woman reading tarot cards in Jackson Square. They all had college degrees – some multiple, many graduate degrees – yet they all were working in nightlife in New Orleans. The point of the piece was how useless the college was to these poor dupes – that in spite of their education, the best they could do was work in the New Orleans nightlife.

The main thrust of the concept may be true, but the reporter was missing the whole point. The folks he interviewed were doing what they wanted to do – not a single one of them expressed regret. They didn’t want to be investment bankers, teachers, or engineers; they wanted to be a part of New Orleans, as best as they could.

I guarantee that if you interview a pack of bankers, managers, and businessmen and ask them, if they could, would they want to drive a pedicab through the New Orleans night, tell fortunes under the Cathedral in Jackson Square, or hustle for the strippers on Bourbon, and they probably won’t tell you that they would d’ruther, but there will be a long pause and a wistful look into the air. It’s all a question of who has the courage and who doesn’t.

“there was something about
that city, though
it didn’t let me feel guilty
that I had no feeling for the
things so many others
needed.
it let me alone.”
― Charles Bukowski

“Leaving New Orleans also frightened me considerably. Outside of the city limits the heart of darkness, the true wasteland begins.”
― John Kennedy Toole, A Confederacy of Dunces

“There are only two things: love, all sorts of love, with pretty girls, and the music of New Orleans or Duke Ellington. Everything else ought to go, because everything else is ugly. ”
― Boris Vian

“I’m not going to lay down in words the lure of this place. Every great writer in the land, from Faulkner to Twain to Rice to Ford, has tried to do it and fallen short. It is impossible to capture the essence, tolerance, and spirit of south Louisiana in words and to try is to roll down a road of clichés, bouncing over beignets and beads and brass bands and it just is what it is.

It is home.”
― Chris Rose, 1 Dead in Attic

“People don’t live in New Orleans because it is easy. They live here because they are incapable of living anywhere else in the just same way.”
― Ian McNulty, A Season of Night: New Orleans Life After Katrina

“Jesus just left Chicago, and he’s bound for New Orleans.”
―ZZ Top

Next Stop

Spring Valley Station, DART

””And we are put on earth a little space,
That we may learn to bear the beams of love,”

William Blake From SONGS OF INNOCENCE