Five years ago I was lured into the El Chapultepec by the sound of raucous blues music pouring from a side door, which had been propped open to cool the tightly packed jazz club down in the middle of particularly cold winter night.
I returned a few days later to document the scene as part of my ongoing work on Denver’s hip, revitalized downtown districts, sweeping west from Colfax and into lower downtown.
Returning last week with only my 85mm prime lens, ideal for the intimate low light photography I wish to create, Denver’s historic jazz club welcomed me in as it always had!
Juggling the Nikon, iPhone camera and a number of cold Modelos, sweating off their labels, I immersed myself into the night….as is my nature.
There are post that are timely and those that are not. Simple fact of life. Photography. I want to open a discussion that is valuable to everyone. The idea of a moment; moments witness and those we create. No matter the venue, no matter the culture, we perceive, create and effect.
As photographers, photojournalist; we will ultimately represent the scene. No matter how much we choose to involve ourselves-we play witness.
A shutter captures the moment, our presence interprets history.
I chose these images because they reflect both sides of an intricate and interesting small town tradition.
Durango is filled with characters of all background, but perhaps their is no match to that which the residents exude every winter in during the annual Snowdown celebrations in the heart of this historic mountain town…
Our friend Skip Favreau enjoys the ambiance of a week night at the Schank House saloon. A stones throw from my doorstep, this cowboy bar has all the character and warmth that make photographs come alive. What remains of the ‘Old West’ has a place at the bar, night and day, from one season to the next!
Durango never disappoints when Carnival comes around! Rachel and I even had the opportunity to share a Baily’s with Old Greg at none other than the Historic El Rancho Tavern! Costumed revilers descended upon Main St. in a long stepped tradition as the clock stuck twelve, and the Devil himself stepped out for a smoke despite the stinging chill of an October’s night. Happy Halloween!