From: Alan Bucknam (alan@notchcode.com)
Date: 01/14/03-12:42:44 PM Z
Wow. Bagpipe seranading a photographer...sorta surreal. No, wait, make
that: REALLY surreal.
I saw a movie once that said everyone should have their own backup
band (y'know, so you can strut down the street with a
soundtrack)....perhaps this bagpiper is yours. See if one turns up at
your next shoot.
-Alan Bucknam
On Tuesday, January 14, 2003, at 11:30 AM, Jeff Buck wrote:
> This is my submission for the Sandy King Archive of reasons we pursue
> large format that have nothing to do with film size.
>
> Yesterday I was traveling back to Albuquerque from Silver City, an
> interesting old mining town in Southwestern New Mexico. The first
> step is to scale and cross the lovely Sierra Negro range. At the
> crest, known as Emory Pass, there's a spectacular overlook ringed by
> an old stone parapet (just wide enough for mounting a big camera).
> From there, you look east across an abyss at the Rio Grande floodplain
> and the Sacramento Mountains beyond. I'd timed it to be there around
> 4:30 PM and started setting up. No hurry at all.
>
> I heard a car coming up the drive to the overlook area -- kind of fast
> and noisy. I looked back as a rather disheveled old lime green Volvo
> stationwagon slid to a halt in the middle of the gravel parking. I
> thought something like, "These dang kids these days *&%@#!!" Out pops
> a big, distinguished-looking man of 60 years or so. Also somewhat
> disheveled. (Later I learned that his name was Hans and that he had a
> fairly heavy German accent. And that he was a little tight.)
>
> I went on setting up, but noticed as the man rooted around in the back
> of his stationwagon for some unknown items. I heard him kind of slam
> a door shut and watched momentarily as he disappeared into the woods
> with a bit of a bundle under his right arm. A couple minutes passed,
> when I heard him pumping up a set of bagpipes. For the next maybe
> half hour, he serenaded me with a selection of delicious, mournful
> tunes. No one else about. Not a sound but the pipes and the
> occasional call of a crow.
>
> He came back from the woods and joined me at the overlook. I was all
> set and watching the light. I thanked him for the tunes and asked if
> he possibly knew "Amazing Grace." "Yah shuure! It's a easy von!" So
> he pumped up and played "Amazing Grace" beautifully as we stood on the
> stone parapet and watched across the great emptiness as the distant
> mountains vanished slowly in the gathering dusk.
>
> JB
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