Last week, Joel Kroin returned to the NYBG just in time for the opening of the Native Plant Garden. Naturally, he had his pinhole camera with him. Because of the nature of pinhole photography—the length of exposure and the time it takes to create an image—moving things often “ghost” in the final result. Of course, Joel assures us these are real ghosts and he’s just a recording medium for their presence, so we’re going to let the images speak for themselves here.
For your peace of mind, no, we don’t have the Ghostbusters on retainer.
Friend of the Garden Joel Kroin usually turns his pinhole camera on the Garden’s stark winter landscapes. But even he isn’t immune to the siren call of the tropical Conservatory, as evidenced by this beautiful shot.
It’s a delicate patina that defines Joel Kroin’s photographs. Each black and white image takes on the small specks, blurs, and aberrations of antique film–not far off from how they first appeared when the method was developed in the mid-19th century. Known as camera obscura, or the pinhole camera, Joel has fashioned his own devices from various containers and hand-operated shutters, finding the technique still well-suited to capturing near untouched wilderness. Say, for example, the largest old growth forest in New York City.
Kroin’s work varies with the seasons, of course. Not all landscapes fit the bill for such a time-consuming process. Stately summer trees rounded with foliage make for difficult subjects in a medium which values contrast–too many leaves, too much movement. But the inherent stillness of a winter wood, with its sharp network of barren branches, makes all the difference. Here is where Kroin’s pinhole expertise comes into its own.
More from our local do-it-yourself shutterbug! Followers over the last year will have seen our previous contributions from Joel Kroin, whose pinhole captures cast a narrow bridge between the charm of old-fashioned photography and modern composition. His shots of the Garden grounds almost give a tricky glimpse into the past.
Normally Joel doesn’t bring his pinhole camera to the Garden quite as often once the leaves return. “With so many flower and leaf colors, this time of the year is not my favorite since leaves obscure fine plant lines,” he says. In this case, one shot in particular catches our eye, as well as the essence of the Rock Garden–a classic Alpine landscape underscored by the peaceful gush of water over stone.
The blog staff first happened upon Joel Kroin crouched at the entrance to the Peggy Rockefeller Rose Garden, a coffee pot in hand, cutting a peculiar figure as he went about his work so intently. Not only an NYBG Member but a horticulturist and artist, Joel’s interests carry him often between the greenhouse and the studio. He recently reconnected with us to share some of his latest photography.
His coffee pot (actually a makeshift pinhole camera) has since been replaced with a purpose-built wooden model, one that resembles an old-fashioned camera well enough to avoid any suspicion. “Certainly, the Garden staff have been less curious about what I am doing!” Joel says.
We’re so lucky to have such creative and enthusiastic visitors! Do you create art at the Garden? We would love to see it! If you would like your Garden-themed art featured on Plant Talk, email an example of your work and a little bit about yourself to blog@nybg.org.
I met Joel Kroin while out on a walk last week. He was kneeling in the entrance to the Peggy Rockefeller Rose Garden with an old camp coffeepot. I hesitated for a moment, and almost walked past him, but my curiosity got the better of me. “Is that a pinhole camera?” I asked. Indeed it was. It turns out that Joel is not just a horticulturist and NYBG Member, he’s also an artist who has been making beautiful engravings at the Garden for years. Recently has begun experimenting with pinhole cameras. I ran into Joel again today, down by the waterfall on the Bronx River, and he promised me that he would have more beautiful shots to share soon. In the meantime, here is the pinhole photograph Joel was making when I met him, and an engraving of the same waterfall he was photographing today.