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Emily called me on my way home from work yesterday. She had a photography project due tomorrow and was wondering if I could help her find some places to go. The project was to take four photographs with a view camera to prove she knew how to use it. The theme of her view camera work is "Broken Stuff", one close to my heart. If my interpretation of her theme is accurate, the idea is to portray the "broken" nature of the cities underbelly though photographs of urban decay and industrialization.

I quickly thought of a few places to go. I informed her that it would be night, and we would be in a bad part of town. Not horrible, but bad enough. She understood and agreed. Joel, Emily and I set out at around 8:30pm.

The key to being safe, I have learned, in areas such as these, is to get there, do what you have to do, and get out. Don't talk to anyone, don't walk around too much, and don't stay in the same place for a long time. I figured we'd need five minutes to set up, five minutes to expose, and five minutes to tear down at each location, and that we would scout from the car. Not too bad, I figured.

We got to the first location, grabbed all the gear (a large tripod, and a wooden case containing the view camera, negatives, and a light meter). I know a little about view cameras, but have never used one, before. Emily, while much more knowledge able about them than I am, doesn't have a lot of experience using them. So, it took us a little longer than the allocated fifteen minutes per exposure. I tried to assist Emily as I could, raising and lowering the tripod, and trying to have the equipment she needed next ready for her. On the first shot, Emily forgot to cock the shutter. But, since Joel told us he heard a click, we waited out the four minute exposure time before we realized that it indeed was not cocked.

There weren't too many people on the street. A few cars drove by, and there was a small lot about 300 feet from us that several people seemed to be coming in and out of. On a few occasions, someone came walking down the side of the street we were on, but each time they would step into the road and walk around us, minding their own business. For this, I was grateful.

When we were almost finished with the second exposure (which was in the same location as the first), a man and his dog came walking down the street. He was a short man, wearing dirty clothes. He seemed to be of Arab decent, but I couldn't tell. His dog had a dingy coat of black hair. The man shouted to us, "What are you doing?"

"Taking a photograph," I said back, the man now much closer.

"In this neighborhood?" he asked.

"Yes," I said, with a smile.

"This is a very bad area. Especially with a big camera. You should be careful."

"Thank you," I said, "we're almost done."

"I know these people, and I don't even stand out here like this."

"I know," I said, "we'll be done soon."

"Be very careful," he replied.

After he was no longer within earshot Joel spoke up. "When the bums tell you it's a bad part of town, you KNOW it's got to be bad."

It was bad. But I didn't think it was that bad. I know I have been in worse and came out unscratched. You just have to stay on your toes, and be alert. That's why Joel and I were there: to watch out, so Emily could concentrate on what she was doing. We were a few blocks from areas that I refuse to travel to, even during the day, but where we were was relatively unpopulated and didn't pose a huge threat. Besides, we needed broken stuff at 9:00 at night. What else were we supposed to do?

We finished up quickly and got out of there, driving past the man who warned us on our way out. Then we went to another area, where they're were more people, and more light, and therefore less dangerous.

I had a good time, and was glad that I went. If film weren't so expensive, and if I still had access to a dark room, I'd bring a tripod and a friend and undertake a project like this of my own. I can't wait to see her work when the project is finished.