Dominique Doktor Photography Blog

Open Road

2010-05-21T02:32:00.001-04:00

First Stop Motion

2010-04-22T01:29:00.001-04:00

Brain Vomit

2010-04-17T06:12:00.010-04:00

Green air/land, pure rain, & teal sea... where horses roam in the hills eating peppermints & cows are "happy"...To a shitty brown dump of questionable 'beach' through a 'looking glass' lined in trash...something that looks like bullet holes in the A train door between cars. The steward on flight 94 OAK-JFK was so fuckin ecstatic to do his job I thought he may spontaneously shit... what was he so happy about I wonder? Frank... a super nice guy; the kind that's so happy you just want to wring his neck..I'm terrible...poor Frank, he bought me a drink b/c I handed the guy in front of me his Diet Coke...

I may miss the cleaner air/overall intrigue of liberal Oakland, & my love ES, but it sure does feel good to be back in the stench of copious amounts of knock-off perfume, bum-ripe cig aroma - a good ol' dirty Easy Coast...RAW, just like I like it.

This place may have sucked some of my soul, but I have enough left for Montreal... like a baby clone, ready to grow into a productively harvest-able heaven. A place where beggars are polite & honest & bums are freshly showered...where the trail of stench doesn't follow & giving back to the "community" doesn't = crack dealers. Can't wait for the time where my cynical jade turns to a sun yellow, & my heart beats red instead of black....

...its all a matter of time.

Open Road

2010-02-23T16:12:00.008-05:00

Late Night JC Nostalgia

2010-02-18T02:37:00.012-05:00

Recently I moved from Jersey City, to the woods an hour north. Being so fond of urban vivacity, it's been an extremely difficult transition for me. Even though I know it's temporary, and only a stepping-stone to a greater and new place, I can't help being discomposed. Even though it is beautiful and peaceful here, perhaps somewhere I would vacation, I can't help but feel guiltily unhinged. Industrial landscape, decay, unkempt humanity, and around the clock ghetto nonsense were, without reason, my serenity. The sound of section 8 Olivia panhandling outside my window in the morning has now become a song of birds. Strange 3am door-to-door knockoff perfume salesmen are nowhere to be found; it's so quiet here, the sound of an icicle dropping from the trees into a bed of snow becomes powerful. Late at night, when all I have is my breath and what now seems like an obnoxiously loud sound of my keyboard, I am left with a feeling of nostalgia for JC. I decided to fill this void by revisiting a bank of personal night shots of my old neighborhood, that I never seemed to have time for. Perhaps working on a few images here and there may keep me sane; a reflection of my time there that will feasibly ease me into this new reticent life.

Window Shopping

2010-01-19T05:30:00.008-05:00

In a Wells

2009-12-30T02:42:00.003-05:00

West

2009-12-30T01:39:00.016-05:00

Of < heart >

2009-12-11T05:12:00.030-05:00

Noctuculan Subway Translations

2009-11-11T22:19:00.010-05:00

Every morning, in the midst of commute madness, I do blind contour drawings. Though drawing is not my strong point, it is a much-needed moment of meditation. I don't think about life, about stress, about my never-ending 'to do' list.... in these few 30 second intervals, I find a moment of serenity. It's me, my pencil, my breath, and the motion of a train packed with interesting faces.

Because my passion for photography has me constantly thinking about how life translates as a photographic image, I naturally had to play with the concept of rendering these sketches. I decided to trade in my pencil for a LED flashlight, and my paper for a black wall. I chose some of my favorite drawings, took a mental note, turned out the lights, and recreated the images 'blindly' on a 6ft canvas. A new found 30 second meditation... I call them Noctuculan Subway Translations.

Open Road

2009-11-07T01:02:00.010-05:00

Faces of Sediment

2009-10-23T15:34:00.007-04:00

Classification: Sediment can be classified based on its grain size and/or its composition.

Nothing is ever finished. Art can be worked and worked and worked. somehow i find it difficult to think there is not something better; in what we do, in what we create, in what we see...maybe there is....maybe there is progress. agendum. maturing...evolution even. waiting to be marked.

Things are not always as they seem. in almost everything you do there is an assessment - size it up - what is this good for, how can i learn, how can i validate spending the time = at least my weight in gold.

Theses pieces, to me, are about process....what may start as a rock, will develop aging marks, will saturate, will mold, will weather and evolve; will become something new, something different...will become an exposure = a fraction of a second of me, mingled with other images, textures, and impressions. It becomes a...

a whatever you want it to be.

Uta the Hawk

2009-10-20T11:23:00.045-04:00

Hiking The Long Path of Harriman State Park, I met a man, Antoinille, out for a stroll with his pet Hawk, Uta. Uta is 5 months old. Antoinille plans on training her for falconry, however, at the moment she is just a playful baby.

It is not every day that you encounter a chance to be so close to a wild creature of this caliber. Naturally, I wanted to make the most of this rare situation, so I asked to pet her. Antoinille said she was very friendly, and I could hold her if I wanted.

It was an intimidating thought, but how could I refuse such a great opportunity. He gave me his heavy weight glove to protect me from her strong, sharp talons, and taught me how to approach her. Uta welcomed the idea and climbed on, looking directly at me, head cocked with curiosity. We explored each others' features for a moment.

Her weight was shocking, so dense and muscular for an animal so young. Her grip was strong and tight. She was very agile; her movements were very controlled and vigilant. While she was on my arm, I put out my hand to pet her. Uta leaned in and opened her beak, startling me; I thought she was trying to bite me. Antoinille assured me she was only trying to get to know me. Uta gently nibbled at my finger and arm; my heart was racing but I stayed calm. It was truly an incredibly unforgettable experience.

What a great reminder of how vast and amazingly beautiful nature, and all its glory really is.

Thank you to Tom Cavalieri for showing me the way of the woods and photographing me with Uta.

Moving Bridges

2009-10-08T23:40:00.005-04:00

Moon Lightning

2009-10-06T14:00:00.013-04:00

Sometimes you have to remind yourself that you take pictures because you want to, because you love to... sometimes you have to play. I used a long exposure, intentional hand movement, and the full moon as a tool to paint with light to create these images. I call this series Moon Lightning.

The Wobbly Barn

2009-10-06T02:01:00.008-04:00

Club Soda

2009-10-06T01:37:00.004-04:00

Looking through club soda at the fall leaves.

Night Shots

2009-09-20T18:04:00.018-04:00

por·trait [pawr-trit, -treyt, pohr-]
- noun
1. A likeness of a person, especially one showing the face.
2. A verbal picture or description, especially of a persona.
[French, from Old French, image, from past participle of portraire, to portray;]

Night Shots is an ongoing portrait project; composed mostly of people I encounter on the street. Sometimes 10 minutes and 1/60^th of a second is all you need to feel you’ve known someone…

Urban Collage

2009-09-09T21:20:00.007-04:00

This Urban Collage is a collection of several images I took in downtown San Francisco. Though not akin to my usual style visually, I think it displays my thought process quite distinctively. These shots were all taken within a few blocks from each other. I combined pieces of each image to create a new environment; my interpretation of the neighborhood. I posted the initial image, a wall decorated with striking graffiti, to show you what I started with. It was magical how the addition of all the other images brought forward the female face, and created a 3-dimensional feel.

Arizona Plane Yard

2009-09-04T17:54:00.007-04:00

Though shooting models is not really my passion, I really enjoyed the opportunity I had to work in a old plane yard. Desert sun & sand, rusty metal, and old fighter jets! What more could a girl ask for?

Cali Cars

2009-09-04T13:31:00.006-04:00

California is one of the best places to find an array of old cars. Classic Cars, every kind of muscle car imaginable, and old VW bug and buses can be found on every block. Here are a few fun shots. I used images of textures, curbs, rims, and a phone pole covered in staples as overlays to create a weathered effect.

The Delectable Duplicity of Digital

2009-09-03T15:15:00.001-04:00

Once when tedious chemical processes, experimental exposures, and sandwiched negatives were used to create special effects, image manipulation was not as popular. Photographs, for the most part, were believed as truth, a recording of something that actually existed. Now, with the advances of digital techniques, our ability to manipulate photographs with ease has grown, and as a result, it has become second nature to question the integrity of an image before believing it.

I used to spend hours upon hours on playful exposures, elbow deep in unaffordable chemicals to find the line where the truth of my imagery was challenged. For me, it was not about capturing a moment or place as much as it was about creating one. Now, through digital enhancement, composites, overlays, and textures, the boundaries are endless, a conceptual artist’s dream. Anything can be and is possible, in creation, in manipulation, in deception: a captivating flirtation with truth. Through this ‘new’ medium, the opportunity to make the viewer think and question reality is boundless.

From Jersey City, NJ to Oakland, CA... The open roads are infinite. Wide-open skies and surreal land, vast desert for miles, interrupted by massive mountains and bewildering industrial structures: A photographer's playground for most.. an immeasurable bank of raw materials for me. A Doktored America is a collection of images of a cross-country journey, some of places that exist, odd as they may be, and others of my creation. For me, the documentation of my trip has only begun.