. . . the trick is knowing when.
Today I brought home a single bunch of Muscari from the Farmer’s Market, where they were gifted me by a friend. Such sweet, stunning little grape hyacinth flowers. And rather than run the risk of trying too hard, rather than forcing them to serve as one of many elements in some larger, fancier bouquet, this time I kept to the advice I so often hear from chefs when they talk about preparing fresh, local, seasonal foods. I kept to the essential, to the utterly simple, letting these beautiful ingredients speak for themselves.
Then, for the pure joy of it I photographed them within a visually rich but entirely uncluttered world of rusted sheet metal and soft, directional light, to create a slightly mysterious world of space and tone, and mood. I’ve included that photograph, more or less as it was originally shot in full color (below), in addition to the aged, patinaed version (above), to let you see how I then worked after the camera, to create a playful sense of antiquity. I’m not sure I can say which is the better shot, or if one can actually be better than the other. They each say such different things, take the viewer to such immensely different emotional places. You’ll know for yourself if one speaks more eloquently to you than the other. And if one does, I would certainly love to hear why in the comments section below.
Either way, they both have this one thing in common; they both picture the very simplest form of a bouquet, a small bunch of just one type of flower in a container filled with water. It is a gift so simple that nearly anyone can offer it to oneself or to someone else, and because of that it is one of my favorite ways to enjoy fresh flowers.
Sometimes less really is more . . .