I’m standing on the neutral ground of Canal Street in downtown New Orleans. It’s early October but today the lighting is uncharacteristically gray. The undifferentiated mass of clouds and the wet blanket of humidity turns the world into a luminous softbox. This type of weather is decent for shooting architecture so long as you crop the sky or need to photograph a north facing building in the colder months. All these years and I’m still not sure how I feel about photographing on overcast days.
I have the tripod set up next to the curb cut, a safe distance from the streetcars whizzing by my back. The camera is pointed southwest at a Walgreens drugstore on the opposite corner. I’ve been meaning to photograph this building for almost ten years. Built in 1938 in the Art Moderne style in vogue at the time, it’s a three story commercial building with a limestone facade, twice as long as it is wide. There is a cylindrical turret on the corner crammed with neon text: “Walgreen Drugs - Photo - Cosmetics - Prescriptions.” A band of rainbow neon tubes frame the text, coming to a semicircular crescendo at the top of the turret next to a yellow mortar and pestle signifying “pharmacy.” The neon glows nicely on overcast days like this, and it looks even better than it did in my mind all this time.
People are coming and going in waves, alternating with cars doing the same, so I wait for the breaks in between phases. There is one obnoxious truck, wrapped to resemble an alligator, parked in an intrusive position. If I want to get this shot now, and I do, I’m going to have to live with the alligator truck. The universe is often ungenerous in this way - there always seem to be objects like light posts, trees, magazine stands, and parked cars getting in the way of an otherwise perfect vantage point. People aren’t as problematic when they walk through the frame since they can be useful to show scale, utility, or both. Is it better to embrace the chaotic disorder in front of a building than it is to fret about it? I’m standing on the neutral ground of Canal Street like the psychological divide between being satisfied with results, or chucking them and trying again tomorrow. I’ll come back tomorrow.