Bris & Stuff

June 02, 2013 in Parties, Personal Work

This here photographed bris (circumcision) belonged to my second most favorite fat baby. At the time, he was just an eight day old with possible hints of chubbiness. A bit confused at the hubbub, just wanting to eat and sleep. Maybe poop a bit. I can totally commiserate. Deep down, I’m just an eight day old baby with a huge beard, and an advanced appreciation for hoppy beer. Speaking of which, I very much appreciate whatever forces have been behind recent social change. In the past year I have received more compliments in reference to my mass of facial hair than I have in the previous 28 combined (yes, I am aware that the first 15 don’t count, but statistics are all about embellishment). Maybe it’s the hipsters, or maybe something happened in the past year which tipped my beard from “impressive” to “oh my!! I’d kill for that thing”. It may have to do with the disappearing bees. Or not.

Mr. Father here (Arnon Shorr) is a film producer/director and a friend of mine. I don’t know much about them newfangled moving pictures, but in tribute to Arnon’s cinemaness I have these all cropped to a 16:9 ratio. I'm considerate like that.

520 Days of Summer

October 05, 2012 in Commercial Work

5 days a week for 8 weeks for 13 years. That's how much time I spent at the camp currently known an Silver Gan Izzy. Previously known as Camp Gan Israel of Long Beach. Then it moved to Westminster. A few years later they figured that although the property was in Westminster, the actual address (the street in front) was in Huntington Beach. Now, while it may be true that Westminster is an "all American City", winning the prestigious (ummm, maybe) award in 1996 (when I was a wee lad of 12. Probably winning because that's the year I left to New York), Huntington Beach is a much cooler, hipper, prettier, and richer city (it's actually the richest of the largest 100 cities in America (for all my Canadian readers, when I say America I mean the USA. Don't get insulted, I love you guys, your mountains, and your beer (not the exported kinds though))). <<<< yes I just did that. So the address, letterhead, and promotional material were all changed to reflect this fact. More to the point, I spent a large chunk of my life at this joint. 10 years as a camper and 3 as a counselor. Being that I lived there as a counselor, the 520 number may be a bit off (I spent my Sunday's there as well), on the other hand one year I had a ruptured appendix, another I broke my arm (and on the day I had my cast removed I broke my pinkie finger (is that real word? Pinkie?) on the other finger and had I get a full arm cast), and in another I broke my jaw. From a hockey puck. So I may have missed some days...

I also met my wife there. She was a a counselor from the Southern part of town. It's an interesting story (the first time I saw her I was walking on my hands in Knott's Berry Farm (I recently tried that. We had just finished an intense game of soccer (the average age was like 4), and feeling gung-ho after outrunning and out kicking a bunch of little kids I figured I was just as in shape as I used to be. I couldn't hold myself up for even a second, and crashed right down on my back. On a better note, earlier in the day we had family races with 3 of my siblings, and I won! Yay me!)) but one I'll have to share another time.

My kids aren't yet in camp, but I figured I'd take my oldest loin fruit, Zevi, there for a day or two and walk around taking photos. Well it turns out that Zevi wasn't too keen on being left with some strangers (he's never done that before), so he ended up following me around. Which was fun, but I couldn't really spend my time getting the shots I wanted. Lesson learned (I learnt (spelled such to placate my Canadian friends, who live in North America, but are strangely not America) a whole cackle of lessons in the past week. But being a professional photographer I'm not supposed to divulge my human tendencies to be quite far from perfect).

And after all that useless (yet oddly entertaining) preamble, here are the photos from a few hours spent over two days in the good ole Silver Gan Izzy.

Ancient of Days

May 10, 2012 in Personal Work

In certain circles I am considered to be hot stuff. The circles are quite small, but they exist. Now I'm sure you're scratching your head trying to figure out why in the world anyone would consider me hot stuff. Let me debefuddle you.

My mother (happy mothers day!) is a Carlebach. The Carlebach family is an old and pretty well known name in the Jewish world. Historically they had many great Rabbis in Germany and surrounding countries. My grandfather was quite the scholar and was twins with one of the most famous Jewish composers of all time, Shlomo Carlebach. "Uncle Shlomo", as we call him, was also a tremendous scholar and brought an excitement about Judasim to thousands of Jews. They even made a broadway musical about him "Souldoctor" (which I have not yet seen).

My mother's mother (happy mothers day!) is a Schneerson. The Schneerson family comes from Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi (his son was called Schneur-son) also known as the first Lubavitch Rebbe. He started and was the first "Rebbe" (grand Rabbi) of the Chabad movement, which now has thousands of communities around the world. We come directly from the third Chabad Rebbe (known as the Tzemach Tzedek), as well as from another great Chassidic master, Rabbi Levi Yitchak of Berditchov.

Also, my great grandparents ran an orphanage during world war two which was very instrumental in saving the lives of many many young Jews. I'll stop there :)

My mother (may she live to be well over a thousand) raised us to be aware of where we came from, but not think it made us in any way better than anyone else. A bit special, but no better. I fact I wasn't even aware of how awesome it was until some people found out about it in Yeshiva and were like totally in awe.

I have a point, I promise.

For the holiday of Purim, my Bubby (mother's mother, may she live a long and healthy life) came to California and brought a Megillah (a handwritten Book of Esther, which we read on Purim) which was written by the fourth Chabad Rebbe, known as the Rebbe MaHarash (Rabbi Shmuel). He only wrote three or four megillahs, one of which is in the Library in New York and the other, by Bubby has. It's a beautiful scroll, in remarkable condition for its age (around two hundred years old) with really wonderful handwriting. The Rebbe wasn't a scribe, but his doctor told him he should do detailed work with his hands. So he wrote one Megillah for each of his children.

One of his grandchildren had epilepsy, which in those days caused one to be shunned by most of the community. People tend to fear what they don't understand. Especially epilepsy, as it could look like you're possessed. My great grandparents (especially my great grandmother) took him under their wings, even as an adult. They fed him, bathed him, and treated him as one of their family. In gratitude he gave them his fathers Megillah (which he got from his father). Which made its way down the family and now belongs to my Bubby

Now, my Bubby is very protective of this Megillah. She does not publicize its whereabouts, or if she's going to travel with it or not. Unfortunately there are those who covet these types of objects (do they not read the ten commandments?!). And would go through great lengths to get their hands on it.

Before Purim, we went to the local Chabad Cheder (chassidic boys school) to let the kids see the Megillah and hear my Bubby speak about the Megillah and her family.

Here's how that went:

One of the rules is that only family member can read from the Megillah. I did that for the first time and it was quite an experience.

Geekspeak: Shot with my Nikon F4, my 28mm, Delta 400 pushed to 1600, and a few with hp5 pushed to 800.

The Pribyls - Documentary Family Session

April 13, 2012 in Families

I have SOOOO much to write about this shoot but I don't want my mediocre writing skills to take away from the awesomeness of this family, so I'll make it short.

Family documentary photography is really where I want my business to be heading. It's something I feel is important, real, and not nearly as common as it should be. Recently I was given the opportunity to shoot this absolutely delightful family in Santa Rosa. This is exactly what the family does on a normal Monday. What they wear, what they eat, where they go, what they play etc. And as the years go by they will have these awesome memories documented, not just what they looked like but how they were. How cool is that?

Yeah, I thought so.

Enjoy, and thanks for looking.

We started off with some homeschooling (them, not me :))

Learning makes you hungry (well everything makes ME hungry, but we're talking about normal people here), so mom makes some yummy looking cheese sandwiches (wherever I go, cheese sandwiches seem to be following me).

I think it was someones birthday here (mom's sis?) so they all (actually we) sang happy birthday (well Frank sang happy boothday, and I think he thinks we were all laughing at him...)

Hannah looooves dressing Violet up, doing her hair etc. And she has very pretty hair. All I noticed was that coffee though. I love coffee.

Back to some reading drills with mommy. Schools cool, but how awesome is snuggling up with mommy and reading some?

Reading is knowledge and knowledge is power. Hence the biceps.

That. Is. A. Big. Book.

I love how all the siblings play together!! It's really sweet.

Off to the chopping block (it's not easy, I tried, and, well, it wasn't pretty). If I was that block I would not underestimate the power of a Frank. Even if he's seven.

Getting the mail was a very important daily ritual. To be met with shoed feet and appropriately attired hair.

Jasmine was in awe over mom's wisdom. Yes, holding those yellow flowers under your chin will make your chin yellow (sadly it won't make my beard blonde).

And off to the front yard for some ballage and rideage.

Jordan would be proud (check out that wrist motion!)

I'm not sure if she made it in but I'll lead you on :)

They have this park nearby which makes me want to pick up and move. Now.

This is one of the very few posed shots we did. Figured we'd get one or two nice family shots (the other's at the end). How cute are they?!

Mom's sister (birthday girl?) and her family came to join. She's laughing at me.

These ducks were scary. I'm serious. For some reason growing up we had a duck as a pet (bad idea) and it terrorized me.

I was told I was doing a good job.

This is Jeney's grandson. It's amazing how much everyone oogles over him, (not that I blame them, and how edible are those cheeks?!)

How handsome is David? (and how awesome is his hair?)

For some reason I'm doubting he caught it...

And for some last family photos... (I'm already missing this family)

How proud is grandma?

Normally I'd finish there. But the family only asked for two shots. The mail one and one with me in it. As they put it: "If we are documenting this one day, then you are very big part of it."

Good point.

Little Purple Fishes (aka little white kids)

March 08, 2012 in Personal Work

You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You have coffee in your system. (Thank you Dr. Seuss.) In this wonderful scenario, you is me. (Me is also who, but thats another story.) And the protagonist in this story is on a caffeine induced, drive-by shooting of fairly large proportions. This is a good thing. However whenever these trips come around I do miss my wife and kids. So whatever sleep I do get is filled with kids and parks and bikes and water bottles. Sun and shadows and film and stuff. With a side of chicken.

It went like this: (Insert sound effect here)