Today was a treat. Easter. In Florence. A spectacle.

We’d heard that there was a parade for Easter so we took off to the main square bright and early. As I walked out our front door, which is right in the thick of everything, I could hear the subtle sounds of a low rumble. I wasn’t sure at first if it was just traffic, but as we walked down the road, it became louder and louder. My pace quickened and my heart picked up.

Sound echos from tall stone buildings that make up Florence. The sound of 30 or more drummers crashes off the walls and thunders down the alleys. It’s a feeling to behold. A parade is just getting underway!

When we arrived on scene, there was just a handful of people. Quickly the crowd grew and we were treated to a 30 minute scene of flag tossing by, as my wife puts it, men in tights.

The heavy beat of the snare drums accentuates the sense of tradition that pervades the piazza. Everything around us is hundreds of years old. Even the costumes the men wore aren’t really costumes; they’re the same outfits that their forebears have worn for literally hundreds of years. There’s a sense of something bigger conveyed by the traditions being carried out today.

The crowd grew by leaps and bounds. Before long, moving through the ever more congested streets became a challenge. And then, a murmur ran through the scene. Around the corner came into a view a tall cart being towed by four massive oxen. (How often does anyone get to use that word?)

This cart was built in 1672 and has been in continuous use for this occasion ever since. This cart is 100 years older than my country, the United States. Talk about a sense of perspective. It should be in a museum, but here it is getting pulled along over the same flagstones year after year.

At this point, the crowds were too thick for me to get close to the action. As the cart was pulled into place, Easter mass was in session in the cathedral. Even above the noise of the packed masses, you could hear the words of the priest inside.

Outside, the church bells clanged. The dignitaries gathered round the cart. Workers quickly rigged the cart for the main event. Finally, after 30 minutes of patiently waiting, the drums and horns signaled that the moment had come.

From inside the giant cathedral flew a dove shaped rocket - set off by the priest inside the church. With a bang and an explosion, it hit the cart which spontaneously ignited with a roar. Rockets screeched and flew high into the air. Smoke billowed upward and outward. Fireworks exploded and cracked.

Again, the stone walls of the cathedral and surrounding buildings concentrated the sound, making the snaps and booms ever more intense. With every round of fireworks, the crowd roared with excitement. You didn’t need to be a kid nor a religious observer to enjoy the show.

Finally, it was over. Something like this could never happen in the US. Everything needs to be too controlled. The idea of a rocket flying from inside a church and smacking a 300 year old cart wouldn’t fly with the fire marshal, city hall nor even the nearby homeowner’s association.

The beauty of traveling is that one gets to enjoy experiences that aren’t possible in our home territory. I think our notion of what is possible grows and we become the better for it.

John

Today I had the bright idea that we should go for a ride in the Tuscan countryside. So, off I went in search of a rental car. After a quick walk a couple of blocks down the street to rental car alley, I walked into Avis looking forward to walking out with a shiny new mini-Fiat or something molto Italian.

Unfortunately, it being a holiday weekend, Avis was out of not just the Euro-specials, but all of their cars. So was the Eurocar shop. And the place next door to it. From door to door I went with the same answer from all of them. They’re all in a row so the rejection was quick and easy from one to the next.

My last stop was into some no-name hole in the wall. They gave me the same answer as everyone else: “No cars.” When the signore saw my dejected face, he offered, “But we do have one scooter left.”

Given that the weather has varied between cold, luke-warm and raining for the past few days, the idea of roaming the countryside in a scooter wasn’t what I was thinking. Before I could give it much thought, another customer walked in behind me also looking for that one last operable rental vehicle in Florence. I decided, what the heck, “I’ll take it. Grazia. Si Vous Plais. Per Favore. Gimmie the Scooter.”

Before I go on, I should explain that the Italians have taken scooters to high art. Everyone rides a scooter. Actually, I’ve seen many people driving cars, but I’ve yet to see an open parking spot so the issue isn’t so much driving cars as it is stopping them. Instead, both the rich and poor, male and female, young hip and old staid all putt-putt about town. I shouldn’t say that. The scooters here are almost as big as the small cars (which are puny to be sure). Some even have full canopies to protect their daredevil drivers.

Now I expected to get one of the luxurious scooters that were parked out in front of the little rental car shop. Something with a good sized engine and ample space for me and the wifey to hang on in back. Here’s what I was expecting from Guisseppi’s Maxirent Palazio:

Instead, we walk to the end of scooter row and I see this puny two-wheeler that calls a moped “daddy.” I ask what about those other ones? The signore tells me in broken English, “Oh this scooter is perfect for a ride in the city!

But I’m going to the country.

“Oh, this scooter she is perfect for a ride in the country.”

Meanwhile I’m looking to see where the candid camera is hidden.

So off we go. It’s been twenty years since I’ve ridden one of these things. I’m a little nervous to be relearning my scooter skills on an underpowered hamster wheel in the middle of the perpetual rally car race that is Florence. Miraculously, we make it out of the city and out into the hills. Even though the point was to get lost, we even managed to get lost in the right direction.

We’re soon rewarded with winding roads and beautiful views. Man I want one of these things! (Except with 750 cc’s, a fat tail pipe, and a sissy bar so that my old lady can lean back in her black tassled leather pants.) I now understand what people mean when they talk about a Tuscan color palette. Mottled olives, grays, dark greens, and mustards dotted the hillside.

What’s great is that all the mile markers are in… kilometers. So something that’s 10 miles on the sign away is actually only 6. Before we know it, we’re getting lost in little towns with only one road and just enough signs to confuse Americans who rarely leave the interstate.

The air was cold, but the feeling of not knowing where we were going and the possibility of discovering something new made it easy to forget that my Hugo Boss jacket was much better looking than it was practical. Up we climbed into the mountains until we came to this little restaurant high above a valley.

And here’s a photo of the menu in case you might want to phone in an order. I had the ravioli with the insalate. Yes, it was as good as you might imagine. Fresh. And perfectly accompanied by a glass of Chiante - from a local vinter seeing as we were in the Chiante region.

Then it was back on the road. After awhile, the cold air and the fact that I shared a small seat with Jen tempered the excitement that I’d felt earlier. It was time to point the scooter north.

But the views were sublime.

I don’t have any photos of the last part of my story. I was too busy holding on, fighting the cobblestones and traffic. Getting back into the city was an epic. It’s truly a city where you can’t get there from here. Major streets would just end with no way out. The problem is that much of the central part of Florence is off-limits to cars.

Actually, it’s off-limits to some cars but not others. Given that I don’t read Italian nor do I subscribe to their Formula One driving habits, I alternately felt like the smallest head of cattle caught in a stampede or a salmon swimming against the stream (with my demise awaiting me).

By the way, Italians have great respect for the right of way of pedestrians and other vehicles. They believe you have the right to get the hell out of their way. This was a right that I duly exercised and somehow managed to survive.

Tomorrow is Easter. They light the fireworks in the church which in turn light fireworks outside amid throngs of people. Should be yet another thing the likes of which I will never see in the USA.

John

Now Florence is beautiful anytime of the day or night, but there’s something especially alluring about it at night from a photographer’s perspective. Maybe it’s because of the fact that crowds have gone. Maybe it’s because the soft shadowed light is replaced by lots of hard street lights that create shadow, highlights and a little mystery.

This little scene is what I see when I walk outside my front door to the street. For someone who grew up in a mid-century (mid-20th century that is) suburb, this is exotic stuff.

I think I want a sculpture of me when I grow up. Nothing like being 12 feet tall for thousands of years.

By day, this square is filled with vendors selling handbags, scarves and tourist wares. Every night, the sellers have to break down their portable stores and drag them down the street to where ever home is. Merchants like these have probably been following this same routine for a thousand years or more.

The street in front of our apartment. It’s a far cry from my little neighborhood in San Diego.

The Palazo Vecchio with the full moon behind it.

The Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore. An awe-inspiring sight no matter how many times you see it. This is all varying shades of marble.

The basilica with the Duomo behind it.

The amazing part to all this is that I shot this all in an hour or so. There’s something worth photographing around every corner. And then there’s the scenes that are beyond words.

John

A year ago, I had the bright idea that my wife and I should take a vacation in Italy. Not just for a week or two, but for a month. I liked the idea of being able to relax and enjoy life without having to constantly be rushing to tour all the fantastic places there are too see. So, after a year of planning, here I am in Florence.

Me on the plane waiting to take off at Gatwick in London:

On our first night, we got in late. There was only one restaurant still open. To get to it, we had to cross the Ponte Vecchio. This, taken from the famous bridge, was the second photo that I shot in Italy. I was pinching myself with disbelief that, after a year of planning, we were here!

Here’s the view from our apartment window. That’s the Palazzo Vecchio in the background. As I write this post, I can see the late afternoon light hitting this 800 year old tower. I feel very fortunate to be here. The light is magical as it bounces through the old buildings and casts jagged shadows across the streets.

Here’s the entrance to my apartment. It’s right across from the Ferragamo flagship store. And Prada, Gucci, Pucci, Fendi, Armani, Tiffany, and every designer you can think of. I can hit them all with a rock if I could only get to the roof of our building. I tried on a Brioni sweatsuit. At $2,000, I decided that it wasn’t worth it. I only liked the jacket anyhow.

The farmer’s market here is fantastic - as to be expected. They have lots of my favorite - prosciutto. The pasta is amazing. The sauces have flavors I’ve never experienced before. All the food is so fresh here. Nobody cooks from a can - unlike all the chains back home.

More to follow. I’m just getting started!

John

This is probably not the most wholesome series of images so I apologize in advance if they offend anyone. One of the things I love to do is document partying youth culture. (The fact that I may do so with a six pack of Tecate at my side is beside the point.) So when I heard about Floatopia, I knew I had to be there.

What’s Floatopia you ask? Well, when drinking on the beach is outlawed, the drinkers take to the water in an inflatable armada of tubes, rafts, kiddy pools, boats and anything that will float - if only for a little while. Let the binge-drinking begin!

My style of shooting is very in your face. I don’t like long lenses. I like to be in the middle of the action.

It’s always more challenging photographing women in public. They’re naturally more suspicious. They’ll ask why I’m shooting photos. I’ll ask why are they drinking. It sort of disarms them. I think by being up front, it reduces the creep factor. When one girl asked if I was a creep I jokingly answered, “Yes, I am that creepy photographer guy.” She laughed and told me that I wasn’t a creep. I took her picture.

The reality is that I don’t care if I’m photographing guys or girls. I’m just looking for that moment that tells a story.

There’s also a certain sense of fearlessness that you have to bring to photographing in this style. If you’re shy and afraid of people, forget it. Actually, I’m both, but I’m more interested in getting the shot so I put that aside.

For this event, there were a lot of photographers out shooting images. It was almost like opening day for duck season. These guys (and they were all middle-aged guys) were all standing on the beach with their long lenses. Every photo I’ve seen posted online look the same. Backs of heads from the sidelines.

I’m more of a gonzo photojournalist. I believe in being right in the middle of things as an active participant. I’m in the water with a beer in one hand, camera in the other. I want to be right where life is happening. I only shoot with a wide angle lens because that forces me to get right up on the subjects. I want to break into their personal space so I can take the viewer where they haven’t been before.

Now, I understand that some may think that this is inappropriate and debauched. I won’t disagree. But if you have kids in college, this is what they were doing for Spring break. At least now you know.

This is actually part of my in-progress book project on youth/party culture. Yeah, it’s a tough job, but someone has to document these fleeting moments for posterity. One day, these youths will be able to proudly share these images with their children and say, “Mommy was there.”

John

The Photographer’s Toolkit booth at the WPPI trade show is #1247. That’s across from Shootsac and ShootQ. We’ll have a small speaker’s platform and full line up of excellent speakers for you to stop by and hear valuable insights for your work and business. We’ll also be doing special gigs like milk and cookie hour and, if we can get away with it, beer -thirty. Here’s the speaker’s schedule:

Monday March 8
John Mireles - 11:00 AM
Concept & Fashion

Joe Photo - 12:00
Changing with the Wedding Market

Catherine Hall - 1:00 PM
Starting Strong

Tamara Lackey - 2:00
Children’s Portraits

Tuesday March 9
Jennifer Dery 11:00 AM
Pricing Destination Weddings

Dave Quin 12:00 PM
Cutting Edge Weddings

Greg Gibson 2:00 PM
Recent Work from a Top Ten Wedding Photographer

Suzi Q. Varin 3:00
Hosting Your Own Photographer’s Group

Wednesday March 10
Marcus Bell 11:00 AM
New Work from One of the Best Wedding Photographers Ever to Walk the Planet

Tony Bisson 1:00
Killer Album Design

Swing by the booth for additions to calendar. Follow me on Twitter for updates and WPPI news: http://twitter.com/johnphoton

It’s been one year since my initiation to alternate universe that is Burning Man. Burning Man, the convocation of 50,000 souls committed to radical self-expression. Self-expression that looks an awful lot like Halloween.

In case you’re new to the Burning Man concept, a crash course is in order. You’ll find it on my blog post from last year: Memoir of a Burner. More photos from last year are here.

But first we had to get there. After a long two-day drive, my road-trip partner, Tony, and I arrived on the Playa. Since we had a themed camp - Camp Photon - we got to set up a day before everyone else arrived. Most of the sites were completely vacant and the madness had yet to start. The first morning, was perfect. Cool with a light wind.

Things went downhill from there. We set up in the wrong spot so we had to load up the RV and move it. Not only was it a lot of work, but we lost the benefit of setting up in the cool morning air. Instead, we got stuck setting up in the full heat and sun.

By the late afternoon, the winds picked up. Setting up the big carport shade structures wasn’t easy for two guys struggling against the wind. The rest of our gang wasn’t scheduled to show up for another day so the work fell on myself and Tony. The worst part was that we set up one the wrong way so we had to take it down and set it up again. We didn’t actually get anywhere til around 2:00 in the afternoon - after starting at 6:00 in the morning.

By then, the wind really started to blow and the dust kicked up. A whiteout soon followed. It wasn’t to be the last either.

Then the rest of the gang showed up. Parker Pfister from North Carolina drove in with a friend.

I thought that John Michael Cooper wasn’t going to show after his motorhome conked out at him back at home in Las Vegas. But he rallied and drove out by himself. Nick Adams - who kept us entertained with his guitar - playing drove up from Southern Utah. (Nick was the guitar player in the 80’s punk band MIA.) Photographers Chris Becker and Keats Elliot came up from Southern California.

Here’s JMC before I handed him a couple of my patented tequila playa ghetto margaritas. He had a good time until he went down for the count.

I was eager to pick up where I left off from last year so out onto the playa I went in search of interesting people to photograph. It’s fun scanning the endless parade of ravers, hippies, tatooists, nudists, freaks, and plain ol’ normal people to see who would make for an interesting portrait.

It was this boy’s fourth (or fifth) Burn.

Business casual at Burning Man.

Before too long, the wind picked up (again) and the dust clouds grew so I wrapped things up. Instead, I shifted to just roaming the camps looking for a good time. And a pair of long legs.

I love this image. It captures so perfectly the free-spirited party atmosphere that’s around every corner.

This image reminds me of photos from the summer of love. It’s 1969 out on the playa every year.

Time on the playa moves at a different pace from home. Not only was it hot - the dust this year kicked up pretty much every day. After an hour or two in the unrelenting sun and inhaling playa dust, it was time to relax in the shade to cool off. Unfortunately, the wind was blowing most afternoons which meant that we retired to the decadent comfort of our cluttered, but air conditioned motor home.

Looking back, I felt like I didn’t see a lot or do that much. The problem is that it’s hard to always be doing something in the heat and dust. This is the man to be burned in the midst of yet another dust storm. He’s about 60-70 feet high for perspective.

One of the highlights of last year’s Burning Man was Thunderdome - a big cage where combatants pummel each other with foam covered bats. This year, I made it in time to catch the final fight of the night. Unfortunately, I never made it back.

One of the highlights of the trip was heading out onto the playa with Parker Pfister. We traded off getting shots. He’s a kindred spirit in the creative department. He set this shot up. As he was shooting from another position, I saw this angle. Once he was done shooting, I moved the light and got the shot. I guess you can say it was a collaboration.

Parker and I both shot this scene. His take was completely different than mine. You wouldn’t even recognize the two locations as being the same. That’s what’s great about shooting with someone who has their own point of view and doesn’t try to imitate others.

Then there’s nighttime on the playa. The esplanade becomes a shantytown Las Vegas - the fantastic structures come to life with light and color.

Then there’s the temple. Not sure what its a temple to. I think we just give it our own meaning. It’s a fantastic construction of pre-cut wood that’s joined on site. Like everything else, it’s temporary. On the final Sunday, it gets burned.

Sunrise on the playa. As the raves shut down, the all-night partiers head over to the temple to catch the sun’s first rays. Here’s my buddy Joe “Photo” Paulsevic at first light.

This woman standing motionless provided the symmetry that I wanted to make this shot work.

Visitors left inscriptions all over the temple. Many were to loved ones - both dead and alive. This to me was the most moving. It’s short but it it opens up all kinds of stories.

That’s it for this year.

John

I’ve been interviewed by WPPI Radio in anticipation of my seminar at the WPPI show in Vegas. I talk about my seminar “How to Book Weddings” and other Photographer’s Toolkit related stuff. My seminar is sold out but you can get a taste of it here. It’s on iTunes with a bunch of other interviews so scroll down to find mine: http://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?id=293620128

John

Today, I had an opportunity to do something different while giving back to the community. I’ve been hired by the San Diego Food Bank to do their promotional photography for the coming year. “Hired” isn’t exactly the right word since I’m doing everything pro bono. Today was our first day of shooting. To get acquainted with the people and their process, I spent the morning at a church where they distributed food to all comers.

I’d planned on shooting adults, but most were not happy with me photographing them. There’s a great sense of shame in standing in a food line. Many folks hid their faces or refused to allow their picture to be taken. There’s many people who’ve never stood in a food line before - from middle class folks who’ve lost their jobs to folks struggling to hang onto their foreclosure-bound houses to military families who can’t make ends meet on a government salary. Hopefully, in the days to come, I’ll be able to tell their stories.

In the meantime, I photographed some of the kids. Parents are okay with me taking pictures of them so it was easier for me to get my shot. These are a handful that I liked. I’ll share more as I shoot more.

John

Like a proud father, I’m happy to announce my first ever video for professional photographers. It’s a no-nonsense video on the process of booking clients - from initial inquiry to the final “yes.” You can check it on the Toolkit website. I’ve got an intro special of 20% off which will be good for the next couple of weeks.

John