Lithograph

Ink on map paper

Ink on map paper

The Best Years of Our Lives, on Facebook
Tamarind King once decided to draw her entire Facebook feed on a paper towel roll. She mused: “Most of us don’t really read our Facebook feed–we just skim it for the parts that catch our eye. This project made me have to read every single word, and it’s amazing how much detail I’ve missed when just skimming casually.”

by Katherine Chen

by Katherine Chen

Arts Intensive programs allow Stanford students of all academic backgrounds to explore their creative sides during the two and a half weeks before the start of Autumn Quarter. The eight programs comprising Arts Intensive 2011 spanned many artistic disciplines. One was “Conservation Photography,” taught by Professor Susan McConnell and Neil Ever Osborne.

Some of the Artists

Katherine Chen
Major: Computer Science, Year: Senior
Katherine is interested in UX design, health, and mobile technologies. She defines herself as both a designer and a developer, and hopes to one day work in an environment in which design and technology work together seamlessly to better reflect how they occur in our culture.

Christine Khademi
Major: Biological Sciences, Year: Senior
Christine studies neurobiology.  Her artistic interest in photography, stems from her enjoyment from viewing the world with a keen observer’s eye and a love of science and nature. She hopes to attend graduate, medical, or business school after graduation and to start her own nonprofit.

Wending Lu
Major: Electrical Engineering, Year: Sophomore
Wending is interested in sustainability, technology, and design. He hopes to produce technology to mitigate human impact on the environment. Recently, he has “become obsessed” with the photography. He likes to play around with studio/strobe work as well as take pictures of nature and landscapes.

by Christine Khademi

Katherine’s Thoughts

For the first week, I recited that Joel Sartore quote to anyone who asked me what conservation photography was to hide the fact that I didn’t know. Here I was, a CS major with no demonstrated interest in the natural world nor any photographic experience, enrolled in a 2-week arts intensive course specifically on the topic.

The class moved fast. Photography basics were covered in 3 lectures: POV, composition, and light. After that, we let ourselves be inspired by the experts, stunning award-winning work by world-famous photographers and our professors. We watched Frans Lanting’s visual depiction of the earth from the beginning of time. We marveled over Paul Nicklen’s close encounter with a leopard seal beneath the slowly melting Arctic ice. We read about how Carlton Ward, Jr. showed Africa that Gabon was more than just oil wells and raw materials, how Ansel Adams galvanized the American government to set up a national parks system, and how Peter Domobrovskis halted a proposed dam construction that would have destroyed the Tasmanian ecosystem.

Every 6:30am, we wiped the sleep from our eyes to photograph in the morning golden light. We made night trips to the observatory to capture the moon and the hills after dark, sat in silence as our cameras recorded the stars. Our expeditions spanned the Bay Area: Marin Headlands, Moss Landing, Monterey, Hopkins Marine Station, and Half Moon Bay. The heavy tug of the camera strap became comfortable, and switching between different lenses became routine. Each day we’d take a few more shots, wait a few more half-hours, climb a little higher, stay for the sunset. See the world through a lens, position what was before us in a frame. We were always ready.

And suddenly this hodgepodge of images started to mean something. For every 100, there was one shot good enough to set aside for some greater purpose. In pairs, we each tackled a theme in nature and explored it through a series of 10-16 images. My partner’s and my photo essay explored vulnerability in the natural world: in life and death, in beauty, destruction, and man’s impact on nature. When shooting, we originally searched for portrayals of strength and fragility but found later that the concept were trying to illuminate was more subtle. Because big things can break and small things have strength. As humans, we have the power to protect, and I believe that this is the essence of conservation photography.

What does it mean to me now? It’s beauty and urgency wrapped into a frame that happens on purpose. It’s a decisive moment and a call to action, touching hearts and changing minds, making a statement that is not easily ignored. It’s showing people the wonders of this world and what they stand to lose. The images of a conservation photographer are images the decision makers of this world need to see.

You close the shutter. And that’s when the real work begins.

by Katherine Chen

by Wending Lu

by Katherine Chen

Major: Earth Systems
Year: Coterminal Senior

Mattias Lanas is an Earth Systems major with interests in nature illustration and detail-oriented fine art. This botanical series is part of a project to document some of the common flora found at Stanford Sierra Camp, where Mattias spent this past summer working as the art instructor. He hopes to one day launch his passions for natural science and fine art into a career.

Indian Paintbrush (Castilleja miniata)
This genus is known for its hemiparasiticism: it often taps into the roots of grasses. The red parts are actually not petals, but sepals (modified leaves). The true flower is yellow and tube-like, protruding out of some of the sepal clusters.

Crimson Columbine (Aquilegia formosa)
A perennial native to the Western United States, it has a history of multiple uses by Native Americans as medicine, decoration, and food. Aquilegia comes from the Latin aquil, meaning eagle, and formosa means beautiful.

Sierra Bog Orchid (Platanthera dilatata)
As its name suggests, this orchid grows in boggy meadows and generally moist areas in the Sierras. The small white flowers on its stalk produce a fragrant, sweet perfume that can be smelled from a fair distanceaway. The plant’s range extends north all the way to Alaska, and it is especially common in the mountainous regions of the Pacific Northwest.

When taking photographs of a bull elephant at sunset, you are reminded that you are small. Armed only with a camera, you feel exhilaratingly vulnerable. The swish of his leathery skin and his nearly silent footfalls belie his bulk. But, as he looks down on you en route to the waterhole, you see the familiar glow of consciousness. The shutter clicks and he moves on as you let out the breath you’ve been holding for the past thirty seconds.

Experiences like this continue to fuel my passion for wildlife photography. As a passionate wildlife conservationist, I feel that I can help to preserve and protect animals by telling their stories to others, inspiring them to recognize the universalities that stretch across species.

“In the Company of Giants:” Never had I known the kind of peace that I experienced at the feet of these animals at dusk.

“Realities of the Bush:” A giraffe skull rests in the water hole at Kameel Doring in Etosha National Park, Namibia

“King of the Trough:” Etosha, Bull #100, enjoys a drink at dusk

“The Gentle Giant:” Brendan has some of the largest tusks in the population that we studied. His gentle nature and his penchant for avoiding conflict with other bulls allows him to avoid breaking his tusks.