Mystery and St. Micheal's

It wasn't my intention to make a foreboding and mysterious photograph when I stopped at St. Micheal's Catholic Church near Iowa City. But both words are appropriate for this shot.

I think mystery is appropriate for any artistic project with a religious theme. Despite the best efforts of our many belief systems, there is something about the nature of the Divine that resists the best efforts of our prying and curious minds. The darker tonal values and the grave markers contribute both to the foreboding and mystery in this photo. The sense of mystery is heightened by the ambiguous figure at the extreme right.

What caught my eye in this scene was the afternoon light illuminating the windows. But two issues created problems. One was perspective. Standing close to the windows so that no markers were in the way created severe perspective distortion. Standing a little further back didn't fully correct the situation and introduced the second problem of markers intruding on the composition.

My solution (that I'm not entirely happy with) was to incorporate the markers into the composition. I used the three tall markers on the left and the mysterious marker on the right to create a frame for the two windows. This viewpoint down slope from the church also created a rich addition of tones found in the weathered wall of the church and the markers.

While shooting, I was pleasantly interrupted by Harold, a member of the church and part of the Friends of Old St. Micheal's group that maintains the church. He graciously let me in to look around in the sanctuary and also added an interesting historical tidbit. Former residents of every county in Ireland are buried in the graveyard. Meeting great people like Harold and discovering more about these fascinating churches have been a real treat.

Dunbar Lutheran

Rural churches fascinate me because they can be looked at from several different perspectives. They can be looked at as scared places. They can be viewed as historic places. But they can also be seen as part of our landscape, just like our rolling hills and cloud-filled skies. Whether they're nestled against a tree-filled hill or surrounded by fields, they look as if they belong there. Rarely do they stick out like the proverbial sore thumb. They only look out of place when they are no longer there.

Unfortunately, like many aspects of the landscape, these churches are fragile elements. I'm afraid that our landscape will soon be missing some of these churches. While many rural churches are active or are maintained by their former congregations, many more have been left to be worn down by time and weather. And while I've tried not to be too sentimental or nostalgic in doing this project, I think that is unfortunate.

This shot of the Dunbar Lutheran church in Central Iowa is a good instance of a church at home in the landscape. I'm not entirely happy with the composition -- the small fur tree blending visually with the trunk of the foreground tree is a little distracting. But a critical part of any type of photography is compromise. To create separation between the trees required moving to a point where a power pole intruded or moving to the side which I felt made a less effective photograph. It brings to mind this definition of compromise I read somewhere: "Compromise: A solution which neither party likes."