The Brenzier Method

What the heck is a Brenzier? Well, Brenzier is actually the last name of photographer Ryan Brenzier, the man who popularized a technique that now bears his namesake. In reality, The Brenzier Method is less of a method and more of an “mosaic,” a compilation of images stitched together to form a final product. But unlike the typical landscape photos that benefit from stitching, squeezing in more scene to create sprawling panoramas, The Brenzier Method strives for compression. Read on to learn more, or if you would rather just skip all the boring photo speak, feel free to do so now.

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I Am Thankful For…Part Duex

I present to you the second installment of a Thanksgiving double header, and I am so crazy STOKED on these portraits. After shooting these, I can totally see why people fall in love with studio shoots and controlled lighting, and even though we had to improvise with janky hotel light fixtures these might be some of my all time favorite photos. There must be something about Thanksgiving (I loved I took the photos from last thanksgiving as well), that or it must be something about my INSANELY EPIC FAMILY.

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I Am Thankful For…

Oh what a Thanksgiving it was! In fact, the holiday was so EPIC that I have been forced to break up the festivus into two separate blog posts, with the version you are now reading chronicling the feast itself. After days of preparation and supply gathering, the women descended on 7S the morning of the 22nd with a unified goal. With each minding her own specialty, a bounteous banquet was hand crafted around a 19-pound poultry centerpiece. At the stroke of 4pm, the clan enlisted a taxicab caravan down to 79 Crosby street, a dangerous voyage no doubt, but one that would be rewarded with spoils, spaciousness, and salaciousness…well not really that last part, that would be weird.

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Pierced

At first I thought, “Oh well, the shops closed, there goes that idea.” Well…I drastically underestimated Lauren’s resolve, while managing to simultaneously overestimate her inability to prod a sewing needle through her ear. So being the good boyfriend that I am, I left the girl to her own devices, and grabbed a camera to document the momentous occasion.

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Tribute in Light

After a failed attempt the night before, the gang mobilized once again for a second pilgrimage to the Brooklyn Bridge to view the 9/11 Tribute in Light. In my head I had already predetermined the shot I wanted, not exactly the most original composition ever conceived, but one with the impressive bridge in the foreground and two pillars of light rising triumphantly behind. So I loaded my pack with more gear than necessary, for a refreshing change, and set off with purpose and determination. About half-way across I was suddenly stupefied with the utter absurdity of my logic, in order to achieve the shot I had envisioned I would have to be FAR away from bridge upon which I was currently strolling. Like, I need to be on the Manhattan Bridge far, and seeing as it was 11:30, that wasn’t happening. Deflated, I worked with what I could see from the bridge, and truth be told I think it pushed me to a more creative output. Plus, there’s always this  google search to quench my cliche thirst.

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Independence Day

I have learned to let my photos “marinate,” in other words, take the images then leave them alone for a while so that when I come back everything is removed from the moment and fresh. It helps me be more objective in my edits, and I love forgetting exactly what I shot only to rediscover old goodies. That being said, I have been seriously abusing the method, using it as rationale for laziness in revisiting backlogged photos (see Vietnam, Argentina, Japan ext.) Thus the reason this July 4th post comes in exactly 78 days after the event. If my memory serves me correctly, the day started with an afternoon soiree into Brooklyn for another epic lunch at Diner, followed by much lounging until the evening. After dinner, the streets running towards the river were already blockaded, and masses of people were in a Grapes of Wrath migration  uptown searching for the mythical opening. Poor Lauren couldn’t handle the sea of GP (general population) and had to bail out, but rest of the group continued onward in the search of open space. Unlike last year where we casually found a nice spot to lounge, we were forced to settle for a minute sliver of concrete among an ocean of observers, but at least we were gutting it out. The show was amazing as always, but I found myself much more interested in watching the people. Looking back I guess I could was doing the same thing, but everyone was busy watching the display through their displays, holding up all kinds of electronic devices to record the fleeting moment. I found it a fascinating, and wondered if they were enjoying the event or too worried about capturing it. Adding to my fascination was the fact that along with the Canon I had loaded the Leica with some Delta 3200 for the first time, and was eager to see how it would turn out. Not only that, but it was my first date with the Leica itself, so needless to say I was a little bit happy. The film itself came out gritty and grainy (increased a bit by my poor handling and suspect scanning), with a totally different feel than the digital files but adding beauty in their own right. I don’t think I’m sold on the 3200, but it was a fun experiment that produced my favorite shot of the night, see if you can guess which one.

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Georgia on my mind

Due to the familial popularity of my last post, I just had to follow it up with another graduation extravaganza (not that I wasn’t going to do this anyway…but that’s beside the point.) The night started with a perfect dinner complete with homemade Ansleyism statues created by the great MOMMA. The gang (including a surprise visit from the Chloe-mo) then filed into the Pageant of the Masters and triumphantly found their “pre-reserved” seats in prime viewing position. The emotions immediately overflowed, and that’s partly due to the fact that Annie’s graduation was more entertaining/exciting/eventful that both Lauren and mine combined. After Mr. Todd’s top ten list and Ansley’s successful stage crossing, we elbowed our way to an open spot to snap off some matching graduate photos. Sadly, I do not have those photos, BUT I HAVE THESE!

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The Dawg Days are Over

It’s the end of an era. No more Hotel Decca. No more Wilshire exits. And sadly, no more Gold MVP. In a jam packed June filled with three separate graduations, UW played host to the first leg of the journey, with family descending upon Seattle to celebrate the awesomeness that is Lauren. After barely enduring a marathon ceremony (survival credited to an audible hotdog break at hour 3), the gang returned to an EPIC rooftop shindig crafted by Leslie along with the always excellent Rob Elliott signature compilation video. In short, the parents eloquently summed up the sentiment best “Here’s to financial independence!” and “Today is the first day of the rest of your life.” Inspiring stuff.

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Balls of Fury

Watching the Olympics tonight made me realize that I had some old photos in the archives that document the holiest of holy Olympic competitions…PING PONG! While fierce young guns duked it out under the midday heat, a grizzled veteran re-entered the fray, returning to the sport he had forsaken so many years ago. The mama was on hand to officiate the proceedings, and the rocks were slobbery as Zorro maintained order.

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