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I’m a Wedding and Portrait photographer based in Montreal.

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Darién, the Forbidden Province

May 16th, 2013

My Emberá bodyguard Marín. Nikon D700 + 50mm 1.4, 1/1250, f/2.2, 1250.

Look at any world map and find Prudhoe Bay in Northern Alaska or the southernmost city in the world, Ushuaia, Argentina. If you try to follow your finger from one of these extremes to the other following roads, you will ultimately come at a stop upon encountering the Darién Gap in Panama. Still today, the dense, wild forests dominating the landscape of the Darién Gap are the only thing preventing a continuous road across the Americas. And hopefully the pristine habitat remains that way, for many endemic species and indigenous communities depend on it.

I first heard of the Darién two years ago when I came to Panama with McGill, and it was introduced to us as the forbidden province. We visited the 8 other provinces, flew to remote islands and drove through treacherous dirt roads to reach isolated communities, but under no circumstances were we allowed to enter the Darién. Aside from being known for its untarnished biodiversity, the Darién’s reputation is clouded by its numerous kidnappings, assassinations, and the presence of Colombian guerrillas patrolling the Panama-Colombia border. The Lonely Planet guide even has a “Surviving the Darién” section. While these dangers are very real, they are often blown out of proportion, and any mention of visiting the Darién is often followed by alarmed gasps and warnings. But the fish I study are there calling for me and into the Darién I must go.

So how do you prepare for a 10-day trip in the Darién? First, a long day at the grocery store to stock up on food for 10 days. Getting my head chopped off by machete-wielding guerrilla is fine, but I don’t want to die without a few hojaldres in my belly. Second, the trucks are then packed to their maximum capacity until all passengers are drowning in field gear such as solar panels, fish nets, car batteries, formalin, etc. Finally, the frontier police grants us our permits and we are ready to go.

1 of 2 completely packed trucks. Nikon D700 + 20mm 2.8, 1/250, f/2.8, 400.

The road into the Darién was frequently interrupted with police check points that became longer and longer the further away from the city we were. They would ask for our passports, permits and what business we had in the Darién while eyeing us all suspiciously. Upon encountering the final checkpoint before arriving at our destination, I expected another logistics ritual but after greetings from the officer we were just told “Cuídense.”, essentially meaning “Take care of yourselves.”. We kept on driving. The road progressively transformed into a mosaic of potholes. The more or less inviting cantinas  previously lining the highway became increasingly sporadic. Primeval forest started creeping up on the sides of the road, and even the powerlines were peppered with epiphytes growing on them, perhaps a reminder of nature’s dominance in Darién. We eventually reached the end of the road, the little town of Yaviza. This is where we met up with Marín and Martín, two men from the Embera community of Peña Bijagual, our final destination. The only way in is through the large Río Chucunaque. As the sun was setting, they helped us unload everything out of the trucks and into two huge dug-out canoes. And then, off we went.

The 2-hour long starlit canoe ride on the Chucunaque was probably one of the most memorable experiences I’ve ever had. The only sounds heard were the occasional eerie animal calls, the water flowing past us and the gentle humming of the motors lulling us to sleep. Silhouetted trees lined the river banks, growing to colossal sizes as we approached them. When the moonlight was not enough for guidance, Marín, sitting in front of the canoe turned on the flashlight, revealing dozens of caiman eyes poking out of the water.

8-second exposure of a pitch black scene save for the few flashes from Marín’s spotlight. Nikon D700 + 20mm 2.8, 8s, 2.8, 6400.

We finally reach the village and are welcomed by one of the leaders. They lead us to our tents and I fall asleep instantly. I’m not sure if I awoke the next morning because of the sun illuminating the tent, the unbearable heat, the incessant crowing of roosters, or just out of sheer excitement. I stepped out of the tent and finally saw Peña Bijagual, my home for the next week. The 7 days went by in a flash. Here are a few highlights from the wonderful experience.

Our tents. Nikon D700 + 20mm 2.8, 1/80, f/13, 800.

Kids in the village. Nikon D700 + 20mm 2.8, 1/160, f/4.0, 400.

Our field site, a 10-minute hike into the forest. Nikon D700 + 20mm 2.8, 1/60, 2.8, 200.

My set-up in the field. I’ll explain another time. Nikon D700 + 20mm 2.8, 1/160, f/2.8, 200.

Newlyweds Diana & Luis with us in the field. Nikon D700 + 20mm 2.8, 1/1200, f/2.8, 1250.

My supervisor Rudiger looking for our electric fish using a fish finder. Nikon D700 + 50mm 1.4, 1/400, f/2.2, 1250.

Fieldwork is fun. Nikon D700 + 50mm 1.4, 1/400, f/2.2, 1250.

Our final day in the village. Nikon D700 + 50mm 1.4, 1/400, f/4.0, 3200.

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An Ode to the Mightiest Creature of All

May 1st, 2013

Panama, as you may already know, boasts an incredible biodiversity, from its national treasure, the Harpy Eagle, to the nearly extinct Golden Frog. Amidst these colourful species, one creature, mighty and fierce, rarely makes it into your nature field guides. No one even in the Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute based in Panama has ever studied it. Perhaps its lack of attention is due to its commonness, but then again despite its omnipresence across the country, you sometimes only see glimpses of its colourful display as it flies past your eyes. More likely, people avoid dealing with this monster because they fear it. Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to the most spectacular beast of all, the Diablo Rojo.

A glimpse of a Diablo Rojo.


A near-death experience.

Have you been avoiding Isla Coiba fearing the sharks lurking in its deep waters? Never been to the Darién province because of its notorious reputation for kidnappings and decapitations courtesy of the lingering Colombian guerrilla? And is it the piercing crocodile eyes shining through the night that are preventing you from skinny dipping in the Chagres river? My friends, these are the least of your worries, for the majestic Diablos Rojos will crush you without mercy anywhere you want at anytime of day.

For those who aren’t acquainted with this species, let me describe it to you in its most glorious evolved form. A long time ago, they were yellow innocent buses transporting happy students, but now the Diablos Rojos are the revamped versions of old buses discarded by and brought over from the United States. They are zombies of the road, resurrected from the depths of junkyards, now wandering brainlessly on the roads, with nothing capable of killing them. Behind layers of clown-vomit colours are obnoxious lights that can be fully appreciated only during nighttime encounters.

One of the scariest sights in Panama. A Diablo Rojo behind you.

Many people confuse the Diablo Rojo with just the actual bus. In reality, this is just its exoskeleton and the true beast is made of two additional parts: its driver, usually a man, sometimes probably blind, with no regard for human lives, as well as his side-kick, a human megaphone standing by the wide-open door in charge of shouting the destination of the bus repeatedly (even though it’s written on the bus) and collecting the quarters from passengers. The passengers, by the way, are not the Diablos Rojos’ hopeless prisoners, although it may seem that way. They are people who have chosen the dark side, opting to become part of the beast in order to avoid facing it as adversary. For them to be accepted by the Diablos Rojos they must sit still in the deafening reggaeton music.

I have seen even the most experienced Panamanian taxi drivers cower in fear when faced against the Diablos Rojos. It starts with the taxi driver shifting uncomfortably in his seat after spotting the Diablo Rojo behind him. He checks his mirror twice as often as he needs to. A bead of sweat appears on his temple. In his head he is praying – perhaps these are his last moments before the mammoth cold-bloodedly runs him over. Please be reminded that these are Panamanian taxi drivers, among the most aggressive drivers of all, capable of blazing through traffic, and with an impressive neglect of safety. And yet they are no match for the gargantuan devils. As the Diablos Rojos speed past them, blasting their retinas with the obnoxious bright lights in their process, they let out a large sigh for the devils have spared them a life.

Here we see not one, not two, but three taxis waiting patiently behind the Diablo Rojo. Please realize that if this was any other vehicle they would have blew past it a long time ago. Also, if you look closely, you will see the human megaphone peaking out of the door, looking for the next victims.

Please appreciate the size of this monster. I think I saw a tear run down the taxi driver’s face when we drove past him.

You may now be wondering how Panama has become this way, with hooligan buses ruling the streets. To understand this, you must look at the Diablo Rojo’s recent evolutionary history. Before the infamous name was earned, the buses were more civilized. Regular citizens purchased old school buses for several thousand dollars, and the government then assigned them a route for them to take. In these ancient times, the drivers probably drove the buses at normal speeds, had maybe a few paintings on them and maybe, just maybe, followed a schedule. This ancestral state of the Diablo Rojo was well adapted as it was but with the increasing costs of living in Panama it became inefficient. Over time, they evolved multiple adaptations to overcome these economic difficulties. First, cutting the travel time in half by ignoring speed limits and stop signs allowed them to double their salary. A second adaptation was to cram as many people as possible in the bus to squeeze the most quarters in a day as possible. Two-person seats became three-person seats, and the middle aisle looked more and more like a rave. Who cares about safety anyway? Finally, the addition of unique bright obnoxious colours is thought to play a role in the mating process of the Diablos Rojos, but may also help passengers identify the buses from long distances to flag them down. Today, the only ones remaining are the most fit ones that have mastered the essence of Diablos Rojos, and any intermediate form has been eliminated.

A man sells his soul.

This was a close call. I stumbled onto their lair but managed to escape unscathed.

Unfortunately the Diablo Rojo is now threatened since the appearance of the MetroBus. In my recent travels I have seen their numbers dwindle down to a point where I can only hear their irritating loud horns 50 times a day. If you ever stop by Panama, hop onto one of these for the wildest adventure of your life, an experience that may forever disappear as the Diablos Rojos go extinct.

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A Voyage Through Time

January 20th, 2013

Kuna Yala. Nikon D700 + Tokina 12-24 mm f/4.0 @ 12 mm,  1/160, f/8.0, ISO 250. 

In this post I’ll give you a little peek into the time traveling that our NEO course has offered us. I won’t go in any particular order. Let’s start with the future.

Welcome to Winterland. Nikon D700 + 20 mm f/2.8, 1/2000, f/4.5, ISO 200.

Every day, before our guest speakers start their lectures, the students all go through a round of introductions.

  • “Hi I’m Alex from McGill, I’m interested in the evolution of signals in electric fish.”
  • “Hi I’m Kelsey from Illinois, I’m interested in using ancient dog DNA to study native american migration patterns.”
  • “Hi I’m Peter from Arizona State, I’m interested in ant behaviour, specifically in the Cecropia – Azteca Ant mutualism.”
  • “Hi I’m Larissa from Panama, I’m interested in insect vectors of diseases.”

etc.

Then, came the turn of our speaker of the day: “Hi I’m Klaus, I’m a gardener.”

Klaus Winter is a STRI scientist looking at the effects of climate change on plants. He effectively uses greenhouses as time machines, pumping in high CO2 levels that reflect the predicted levels of CO2 in the next decades. Together, these little greenhouses scattered across the STRI station form what is known as Winterland. In the long run, Klaus is hoping to increase the scale of his greenhouses and see how a diverse community of trees responds to the anticipated environmental conditions.

Klaus Winter and students. Nikon D700 + 20 mm f/2.8, 1/640, f/2.8, ISO 200.

Klaus’s inflatable pillow. Nikon D700 + 20 mm f/2.8, 1/1250, f/2.8, ISO 200.

Although this weird thing might look somewhat like a time machine, it’s a small greenhouse made of ETFE (ethylene tetrafluoroethylene). According to Klaus, these “inflatable pillows” show promise as the building materials for the future larger greenhouses. Compared to glass, it is lighter, more flexible, more cost-efficient, and has better optical and thermal properties. It’s also self-cleaning, a feature which every object on earth should have. With rapidly increasing amounts of CO2, forests as they are may change completely, affecting not only the trees themselves but all biodiversity that inhabits them. What Klaus does now allows us to peek into the future.

Now let’s go to the past.

Church in Natá, the 2nd oldest city in Panamá. Nikon D7000 + Tokina 12-24 mm f/4.0 @ 12mm, 1/80, f/4.0, ISO 2500. 

What better way is there to travel back in time than listening to a lecture by an archeologist? We had the pleasure of having Richard Cooke present to us a historical perspective of the isthmus, a first non-biology class. Just like detectives arriving on a crime scene, archeologists arrive in the present to look for hints of a story in the past. Dr. Cooke pulled up images a stone wall of this place called La Cueva de los Vampiros. To me, it really looked like just a stone wall. But with the right eyes and tools, you can read a story from the past. By looking at the soil chemistry, the types of deposit, the radioisotopes and the tools used on the rock, archeologists can reconstruct certain events that happened along with their timeline. Amazing.

I also never realized how tiny pieces of information could provide so much insight. The discovery of similar mastodon tusk spears in different areas proposes a path used by ancient human civilizations. Manatee-tooth carvings found on the Pacific side of the isthmus suggest exchanges between the Atlantic and Pacific coasts since manatees were inexistent in the latter. Others pieces of the puzzle, however, are more difficult to interpret. Dr. Cooke explains that when it comes art, one may get hints of religious beliefs or social structure, but in the end it’s often still just a guess. One enigmatic image recurring in pre-colombian art forms in the isthmus was this anthropomorphic crocodile feathered with stingray tails. Interestingly, it was not only found in artifacts associated with the rich, such as golden earrings, helmets and plates, but also in artifacts that the poorest treasured, in the form of iguana bone. Whether this represented an almighty clan, a symbol power, or a revered deity, we may never know.

And now, back to the present.

Erin, Peter and Buttons in Galeta. Nikon D700 + 20 mm f/2.8, 1/80, f/16, ISO 100.

These relics are small glimpses into the past, and many were forever lost after the arrival of the conquistadores which resulted in the wiping out entire civilizations in the 1500s. As Dr. Cooke noted, the current indigenous groups – the Ngöbe, the Kuna and the Emberá – are living relics representing a very long-lived lineage. 

Unfortunately, still today, these indigenous groups must fight to defend their rights, land and culture. Canadian corporations are overseeing the development of destructive colossal mining projects in Ngobe territory. The ongoing losses of mangrove ecosystems are resulting in an increasing number of floods, threatening the homes of the Kuna. The neglect of the Darién province from the Panamanian government effectively causes poor health problems and low income opportunities to persist for the Emberá. Today, indigenous groups all over the world are links to the past, but they may not persist in the future unless a change of attitude comes along.

Ngöbe children performing the Jegi. Nikon D7000 + 105 mm f/2.8, 1/800, f/4.0, ISO 200.

Performance during a historical reenactment of the Kuna revolution in Ukkupseni. Nikon D7000 + 50 mm f/1.4, 1/640, f/4.0, ISO 100.

In an ideal world I would have a picture of the Emberá right here, but I have yet to see them. Soon, though.

Thanks for reading!

 

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X-ray vision: How to See Through Trees

January 13th, 2013

As a person who studies little obscure electric fish, I sometimes wonder why my fish get so little attention in comparison to the more charismatic and popular study organisms. But I shouldn’t complain because that’s probably nothing in comparison to what plant-studying folks deal with. And that must be nowhere even near what mycologists feel. An entire kingdom severely underrepresented in the scientific community. You’ll find the odd mycologist here and there, and luckily for STRI they found Greg Gilbert.

Greg Gilbert. Nikon D700 + 50mm f/1.4, 1/160, f/2.8, ISO 1600.

We had the pleasure of having Greg as a lecturer during our stay at BCI. He started off by giving us a primer on fungi, where we learned about things such as heart rot in trees (and butt rot of course). After an initial infection through the roots of the tree, the fungi reach the heart of the tree and start a slow digestion process that takes years. Eventually, with its core eaten away, the tree, hollow and structurally weak, snaps and dies. To answer the remaining mysteries of this process, such as which trees are more susceptible to these infections or how prevalent fungal pathogens are, or even how specific are fungal pathogens to their hosts, we need someone like Greg to come in and show us how to see through trees.

Step 1. Select tree of choice.

Step 2. Look inside tree. Tadaaa!

Maybe I simplified step 2 a bit. It essentially involves using a hammer, an even fancier digital hammer, twelve flattened thumbtacks and the coolest biggest digital calliper. Unfortunately I don’t have any images of it so just imagine giant tweezers with buttons, bluetooth, and independently moving arms. After selecting the tree and measuring its perimeter, we hammered down 12 evenly spaced thumbtacks around the tree. Then, using the calliper, we measured distances between thumbtack pairs. Meanwhile, on an automated computer software, each of these distances was used to construct a digital cross-section of the target tree. Now that we had the overall shape, we used sonic and electric impedance tomography to see inside the tree.

Hammer. Nikon D700 + 50mm f/1.4, 1/60, f/2.5, ISO 1600.

12 thumbtacks placed around the tree. Nikon D700 + 50mm f/1.4, 1/60, f/2.5, ISO 1600.

Let’s start with sonic tomography. If a tree is hollow, sonic vibrations require more time to pass through the tree and reach the other side. Using a hammer, this time the fancier digital one, we smacked smacked thumbtacks one by one while the software recorded the exact time it took for the sound of impact to reach each of the other thumbtacks. Knowing the distance between thumbtacks and the time it took for sound to travel, the computer software determines whether the space between the tacks is dense or hollow. This information is compiled and a few moments later, an image of the inside of the trunk is generated. In our tree, evidence of a fungal pathogen infection was manifested as a large hole in the tree’s cross-section.

The fancier hammer. Nikon D700 + 50mm f/1.4, 1/60, f/2.5, ISO 1600.

Owen smacking one of the 12 tacks. Nikon D700 + 20mm f/2.8, 1/80, f/2.8, ISO 1600.

Electric impedance tomography. Nikon D700 + 50mm f/1.4, 1/160, f/2.2, ISO 1600. 

Results of our electric impedance tomography. Nikon D700 + 50mm f/1.4, 1/160, f/2.2, ISO 1600. 

With electric impedance tomography, we are seeing through the tree not by using sound but rather current. Although it may seem like we’re trying to blow the tree up, we’re calculating the resistance between each tack pairs, which will give us an idea of the water content distribution in the tree. This technique allows us to distinguish cavities from wet diseased wood. The two cutting-edge techniques, often used in conjunction, will allow scientists like Greg Gilbert to understand how fungal pathogens are affecting different forest tree diversity.

 Greg Gilbert analyzing tomographies with students. Nikon D700 + 50mm f/1.4, 1/160, f/2.8, ISO 1600.
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Barro Colorado Island

January 7th, 2013

Shy lizard/lizard humping a leaf. Nikon D7000 + 105mm 2.8, 1/200, f/3.2, 1000.

Little side note before I start. It turns out that for the tropical ecology course I’m taking right now, I need to blog about my experiences here in Panama. Therefore as you’re reading this, so are my professors. Probably drinking. And yes I’m graded on this.

Our course started off with a bang. Within the first hour of the first day, we were on the Panama Canal, setting off on a water taxi ride to Barro Colorado Island, the famous biologist dream playground. Although I’d been here 2 years ago, it felt like seeing Panama for the first time. As any biologist would, I was enjoying the magnificent frigatebirds (Fregata magnificens) elegantly soaring over our heads, an experience much more enjoyable than trying to dodge the pigeons of Montreal whose life goal is to shit on you. In the distance the forests displayed fifty shades of green with its numerous trees peaking through the canopy, all competing for access to light. Behind us a sunset was included. And while I was appreciating the wonders of nature I also witnessed one of the biggest triumphs of human ingenuity as we went past the giant dredging goliaths expanding the canal. Being amazed by the canal is of course justified, but the lush forests surrounding it should be an important reminder of the biodiversity we may lose due to our hubris of relentless expansion and development.

300 years old and counting, a Ceiba tree. Nikon D700 + 20mm f/2.8, 1/400, f/2.8, ISO 1600.

3-toed sloth. Nikon D7000 + 105mm f/2.8, 1/160, f/3.5, ISO 400.

Nephila clavipes female in front, male in the back. Nikon D7000 + 105mm f/2.8, 1/125, f/3.2, ISO 640.

During the construction of the canal, the artificial Gatún Lake was formed. As the waters rose, they submerged the then-present rainforests, and the hilltop remained uncovered, becoming Barro Colorado Island. Now, managed by the Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute, with its essential facilities (labs, dormitories, dining hall and lecture hall) and its stunning biodiversity (without even mentioning animals, the island has a diverse forest holding as many plant species as all northern temperate forests combined), the island appropriately is visited by hundreds of scientists from across the world every year.

We climbed this rusty wobbly canopy tower. Nikon D700 + 20mm f/2.8, 1/50, f/5.0, ISO 800 & 1/125, f/22, ISO 800.

As we landed on the island, I immediately tucked my pants in my socks. I know it exponentially increases how dorky I look but I remembered Dana two years ago coming out of the island with 50ish ticks on her body and she didn’t recommend it. So tucked pants it is. We set out for our forest hike. Through the mosaic of twisting lianas, strangler figs suffocating their victims and palms threatening you with their menacing sharp spines, we caught glimpses of trogons, ñeques, poison-dart frogs, tinamous and anoles. Biologist porn.

Awesome crypsis. Can you spot the praying mantis? Nikon D700 + 50mm f/1.4, 1/125, f/2.2, ISO 800.

Wasp doing waspy things. Nikon D700 + 50mm f/1.4, 1/125, f/2.2, ISO 800.

Here we were on our way to our final lecture on Barro Colorado Island. We told our professors we were bored of the lecture hall. They gave us this. Nikon D700 + 20mm f/2.8, 1/400, f/2.8, ISO 200.

Most peaceful classroom you’ll ever find. For PFSSers no that is not Russell. Nikon D700 + 20mm f/2.8, 1/400, f/2.8, ISO 200.

Butterfly expert Owen McMillan giving us a lecture on evolutionary biology. Nikon D700 + 20mm f/2.8, 1/160, f/2.5, ISO 200.

I could talk more in detail about what we did and learned but both the hammock and our unlimited cases of cold beer are inviting me over on the balcony overlooking the canal.

I hope you enjoy the pictures!

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My Visit to Panama.

November 6th, 2012

Fishing for my electric fish. Photo taken by Sophie. Nikon D700 + 50mm 1.4, 1/100, f/2.8, ISO 800.

I’m currently writing this from my plane seat, destination Montreal. So I lost my passport in Miami Airport. I don’t recommend it, it’s not super fun. Somehow I didn’t panic and just asked around. An hour and a half later, after getting passed on from one person to the next, I finally get my passport, my plane is about to board. Security check, Sky Train, Gate D1 and here I am! Now hopefully the next 3 hours are smooth and Sandy-less.

So I just spent 3 weeks in Panama for preliminary field work for my project. I had lived in Panama for 4 months the year before, but went with my lovely dysfunctional 25-student Panamaniac family. This time I was on my own, living in an apartment called La Casa Del Ritmo with two Colombians (Luís & Juliana) and a Costa Rican (Marcela).

To be honest it was weird at first. I had so many memories but no one to share them with. Thankfully I had roommates that never made me feel alone. Except on days where Juliana was working late, Marcela was scuba diving somewhere far and Luís went to bed at 7PM (this actually happened regularly). Thankfully there was also Skype and Claudia.

So what did I do in Panama? I went on 4 field trips to different rivers and learned electrofishing and fishing electric fish (very different things!). I encountered 4 snakes in my lab. I visited an abandoned bunker with bats and scorpions. I co-lived with a rat. (Turbulence. Woohoo!) I got about 65 mosquito bites. I ate many empanadas. I survived extreme weather conditions. And I’m not talking about the high heat and humidity of Panama, I’m talking about the air conditioning in my building. Seriously it’s like working in a freezer.

Here are a few of the pictures I took during this mini-trip!

Rainy season in Panama. Not fun for driving around. Nikon D700 + 50mm 1.4, 1/500, f/3.5, ISO 1600. 

What you’re supposed to see under that fast flowing river is a bridge going straight. It rained so much the water level in the river rose above the bridge. We had to wait 30 minutes until the water level went back down. To the left is a 20m drop to death. Nikon D700 + 50mm 1.4, 1/60, f/4.5, ISO 200.

My roommates and I! And my stuff all over the table. Nikon D700 + 20mm 2.8, 1/60, f/5.6, ISO 1600.

I met up with my friend Hilario who took the same program as me 2 years ago. Long time no see! Nikon D700 + 20mm 2.8, 1/640, f/2.8, ISO 1250. Stupid camera settings, I know. But it’s a D700 so no noise :D .

My lab in Panama! Where I found 4 snakes. Nikon D700 + 20mm 2.8, 1/100, f/2.8, ISO 400.

My two most helpful people on this trip! Sophie (M.Sc. student in my lab and Rigo our driver and the curator of our fish collection). Nikon D700 + 20mm 2.8, 1/2500, f/2.8, ISO 400.  

Big smile because Sophie had just given him cookies. Nikon D700 + 20mm 2.8, 1/200, f/2.8, ISO 1600. 

My little field assistant. Nikon D700 + 50mm 1.4, 1/400, f/2.8, ISO 800. 

Field work is always fun. Especially when you wear dorky gear. Here Fernando, Sophie and Gisela were electrofishing. Nikon D700 + 20mm 2.8, 1/1250, f/2.8, ISO 3200. 

Gisela and Brachyhypopomus occidentalis, the electric fish species I study. Nikon D700 + 20mm 2.8, 1/160, f/3.2, ISO 1600.

Luís and Diana. I may have more pictures of them coming up soon hint hint. Nikon D700 + 50mm 1.4, 1/320, f/3.5, ISO 320.

Taken during my field trip to Río Piriatí. Super pretty site. Nikon D700 + 20mm 2.8, 1/200, f/3.5, ISO 320. 

Brown-throated three-toed sloth (Bradypus variegatus). Nikon D700 + 50mm 1.4, 1/500, f/2.2, ISO 1250.  

The text above I wrote in the plane. I’m back in Montreal now. Happy to be back and excited to go back in January. If you’re interested in what I do for research, check out this little summary in an article that just came out on my work! Page 4 of STRI news.

Thanks for tuning in!

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Claudia in a 1x2m studio.

September 28th, 2012

Nikon D7000 + 50mm 1.4, 1/60, f/2.0.

Hi everyone! So life has been super busy with the beginning of school of course. I’m leaving in two weeks to start preliminary fieldwork in Panama and am super excited. It’s getting cold here anyway. So today I have a mini photoshoot with my girlfriend Claudia to show you! You might have seen her here. Or you might know her already. If you don’t, she’s a little cute romanian girl that likes flowers and is obsessed with cats. I also share that obsession slightly. We regularly talk to our neighbour’s cats. We even give them names. There’s Brown Cat, Gray Cat, Dirty Cat, Curious Cat and more. We’re very creative with names. Brown Cat came in the apartment today. Claudia doesn’t think he’s very brown but trust me, he’s brown.

Claudia being cute. Nikon D7000 + 50mm 1.4, 1/160, f/2.0.

ANYWAY. Photography. So the setup was extremely simple. Although it’s my dream to get a studio, for headshots or tight portraits, all you really need is a few clean walls, and maybe a window. All shots were literally taken in a 2m squared corner of a room. You don’t need much more than that. For lighting, we had a window with a white diffusion layer, but even setting up a flash and an umbrella will work, provided that the umbrella is close enough.

Nikon D7000 + 50mm 1.4, 1/100, f/2.0. 

In the two shots above, Claudia is sitting at the exact same spot. Same exact settings. I just moved to her right and it changes the mood of the picture right away. In the backlit shot, I just placed a reflector to light her, positioned super close right outside the frame. All of these next shots were taken just 1m away on a bed, still using natural light.

Nikon D7000 + 50mm 1.4, 1/80, f/2.0.

Nikon D7000 + 50mm 1.4, 1/80, f/2.0.

Nikon D7000 + 50mm 1.4, 1/50, f/2.0.

So you see? All you need is a little corner of a room and it can make reasonable backgrounds for portraits. If you’re lucky, you’ll find a white wall somewhere in your apartment. If you’re even more lucky, you’ll have a lot of space in front of the wall. By controlling the distance between the subject and the background, and just lighting your subject, you can get your background anywhere from white to black. Even throw in gels if you want. I used to experiment a lot with those but I’ve gotten tired lately, and I prefer just a plain neutral colored wall. But of course in the end if I had a studio with a cyclorama wall, 12-foot ceiling and huge north-facing windows I’d take it. So if anyone has one of those just lying around up for grabs just send it my way thank you.

Nikon D7000 + 50mm 1.4, 1/100, f/2.0.

Since I can’t think of a brilliant segway into this next topic here it is: I’m buying a D700 tomorrow. Super excited. At this point I’ve been waiting for a year and a half, browsing Kijiji and Craigslist like a madman. A few months ago, they were going for over 2000$ for used ones, I almost went for it. Then I delayed my camera cravings just in time for the D600 release which shot the prices down. I’m getting one tomorrow for 1300$. So why the old D700 and not the new shiny D600? I’m saving 1000$, I already have video on my D7000 and I don’t need 24MP (and my almost full hard drives certainly don’t want 24MP pictures). I’ve been waiting for full frame for a while now. I slowly eliminated all my crop-sensor lenses and now have all full-frame lenses. What I’m most excited about is the even shallower depth of field I’ll be able to get (okay okay, if you want to get technical it’s the same, but because of the wider frame there’s the impression of a shallower depth of field).

So I will definitely report back soon. We’ll see if knocking off a 0 in my camera improves anything!

 

 

 

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Mont St-Hilaire

August 23rd, 2012

Lac Hertel and the Gault House on an early morning. Nikon D7000 + Nikon 70-200mm 2.8 @ 70mm, 1/125, f/5.0.

Right now, I’m lying down in a hammock at the back of the Gault Nature Reserve chalets of Mont St-Hilaire sipping on ice coffee. In the forest next to me, Black-capped Chickadees, American Goldfinches and White-breasted Nuthatches are calling. By my side, a pair of binoculars just in case I see something cool, and my camera in case I see something crazy.

After working in the lab every day for the past few months, I started getting desperate and wanted to go outdoors more. I contacted the staff from the Gault Nature Reserve and managed to get a sweet deal: I’d stay in the chalets with all the researchers (which includes my girlfriend Claudia) in exchange for pictures they could use for promotional purposes. So now here I am, enjoying the outdoors like a true bio nerd.

I started out with Jorge (+ Lucia & Marisol) a.k.a the proud owner of the Ratmobile, a black rental car equipped with Radio Caliente. His work focuses on the expansion of Lyme disease in Quebec by tracking White-footed Mice, since they are hosts for the Black-legged Ticks which carry the disease.  TéléQuébec also came one day to film the research, and long story short, I ended up filming some footage that they will be using on their show :D It’s supposed to air some time in September. THERE’S A CHIPMUNK ABOUT 2M AWAY FROM ME!

Marisol, Jorge, Lucia & Professor Virginie Millien preparing their setup. Nikon D7000 + Tokina 12-24mm 4.0 @ 19mm, 1/100, f/4.0.

Jorge contemplating the meaning of life. Nikon D7000 + Nikon 70-200mm 2.8 @ 98mm, 1/160, f/2.8.

Marisol weighing the mouse. Nikon D7000 + Nikon 50mm 1.4, 1/100, f/2.8.

Mouse team putting the radio collar on the anesthetized mouse. Nikon D7000 + Nikon 50mm 1.4, 1/100, f/2.8.

Lucia preparing the telemetry equipment for tracking the radio collars. Nikon D7000 + Nikon 70-200mm 2.8 @ 80mm, 1/125, f/2.8.

White-footed Mouse with radio collar. Poor guy. Nikon D7000 + Nikon 105mm 2.8, 1/80, f/3.2.

Next, I went with Kyle (+ Sarah & Julien) who studies the relationship between the diversity of bees and the pollination services they provide, and how this is influenced by the surrounding landscape. I was lucky that their sampling site was in one of the prettiest spots on the mountain: a huge field of golden rods filled with blackberry patches you can pick on. As you walk through the goldenrods you just hear buzzing around your head from all the bees. They were scanning the flowers and catching the bees in nets, putting them in vials. “Probably about 30 or so.” Kyle says, when I asked the number of bee stings he’s accumulated over the years working on this project.

Bumblebee doing bumblebee things. Nikon D7000 + Nikon 105mm 2.8, 1/1600, f/3.2.

Kyle sampling in a field of goldenrods. Nikon D7000 + Nikon 70-200mm 2.8 @ 120mm, 1/640, f/2.8.

Sarah investigating potential catch. Nikon D7000 + Nikon 70-200mm 2.8 @ 120mm, 1/640, f/2.8.

Julien recording the results of sampling. Nikon D7000 + Nikon 50mm 1.4, 1/1250, f/2.8.

If you don’t like bees, maybe you’d like Carly’s (+ Claudia & Katriina) work on the role of forest fragmentation on carbon storage and biodiversity. But like Claudia’s thumb will attest, trees can still sting you. I learned from that day that 1) mosquitoes don’t care whether you have some OFF on you or not, and 2) when you find branches that look vaguely like antlers, the obvious thing to do is to take a break from science and prepare for a death match.

Pretty forest! Nikon D7000 + Tokina 12-24mm f/4.0 @ 12mm, 1/100, f/4.0.

Carly tree hugger. Nikon D7000 + Nikon 50mm 1.4, 1/160, f/2.2.

Carly measuring DBH. Nikon D7000 + Nikon 50mm 1.4, 1/160, f/2.2.

Claudia taking some canopy pictures. Nikon D7000 + Nikon 70-200mm 2.8 @ 116mm, 1/160, f/2.8.

Katriina holding up a soil core. Nikon D7000 + Nikon 50mm 1.4, /50, f/3.2.

The collected soil samples are then dried out on coffee filters. Nikon D7000 + 50mm 1.4, 1/200, f/2.8 + SB-600 Bounced off the wall.

They had 2 full tables of soils. Nikon D7000 + 50mm 1.4, 1/200, f/2.8 + SB-600 Bounced off the wall.

Katriina and Carly fight to the death in plot 3. Nikon D7000 + Nikon 50mm, 1/180, f/3.5.

Finally, I went with Dory (+ Thomas & Camille) who is studying the effects of forest fragmentation on insect herbivory. The field work involves climbing up trees, collecting insects with cool weird traps, whacking branches, and sucking up insects.

Dory putting a harness on and climbing up a tree like a pro. 1) Nikon D7000 + Nikon 50mm 1.4, 1/60, f/2.0; 2) Nikon D7000 + Nikon 18-70mm @ 55mm, 1/40, f/4.5.

Trap 1: Burlap traps. They caught 72 catterpillars in a single one of these once. The burlap coziness is irresistible apparently, and catterpillars just crawl up to cuddle. Nikon D7000 + Nikon 50mm 1.4, 1/200, f/1.8.

Trap 2: Lindgren trap. It has 7 funnels that leading into a container of ethanol where the insects accumulate over time.  Here Dory is about to send the trap down for the others to collect their sample. Nikon D7000 + Nikon 70-200mm 2.8, 1/160, f/2.8.

Trap 3. Malaise trap. This tent-like trap is mostly for flying insects. They fly right into the walls and similarly to the Lindgren trap, they are funnelled into a container of ethanol. Having to empty these bottles out really stinks apparently. Nikon D7000 + Nikon 70-200mm 2.8 @ 90mm, 1/250, f/2.8.

Thomas climbing up a tree. Little did he know he was about to get stuck there for 10 minutes. Nikon D7000 + Nikon 70-200mm @ 70mm, 1/125, f/2.8.

Here Thomas is whacking branches with a stick and collecting the falling insects on a white sheet. He then proceeds to suck up the insects in the vial. Nikon D7000 + 50mm 1.4, 1/200, f/1.8.

Camille collecting leaf samples. Out of focus Dory scratching mosquito bites. Nikon D7000 + 50mm 1.4, 1/200, f/1.8.

And what was great is that in between going out with the different research teams, I spend my days hiking on the mountain.

This is an abandoned apple orchard. I saw a deer last time I came here but my stupid self didn’t have my camera ready. He was intimidated by my predatorness and ran away. Nikon D7000 + Tokina 12-24mm f/4.0 @ 12mm, 1/160, f/5.6.


Little red squirrel enjoying the view of the town of Mont St-Hilaire. Nikon D7000 + 70-200mm 2.8 @ 200mm, 1/2500, f/1.8. 


A Painted Lady (Vanessa cardui). Remember for macro shots, think of the angle in which you shoot. If I shot this just a bit higher, the background of the shot would have been all in focus. Here, I was really lying on the ground to get the background far away from the butterfly and become out of focus. Nikon D7000 + Nikon 105mm 2.8, 1/320, f/3.5.

Birding, good food, Claudia, marshmallows, cool people and hiking; this ended up being the perfect break from the lab!

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Chantal and Benoit. Semi-Vietnamese Wedding!

August 14th, 2012

I woke up at 6:30AM, got dressed in 15 minutes. Random thought about how wedding photographers are the first ones dressed up for the day. Coffee. Final weather check. No rain. NO RAIN! A few days before they were announcing 100% chance rain. I guess my streak still continues. :D

I arrive at Chantal’s place, she’s getting her make-up done (by my cousin Han!). The flower girl is sitting quietly beside her, mesmerized by the make-up process. Big windows, tons of soft natural light in the room, everything is calm. Fast forward a few minutes, the chaotic nature of weddings starts kicking in gradually. Chantal is late for her appointment at the hair salon and rushes out of the house, flower girl grabs an eye liner and draws all over her face, and suddenly I’m in this room holding a dress in each hand with Britney Spears’ Baby One More Time blasting from the radio.


About 2 hours later, we’re back at the house, ready for the Vietnamese ceremony. The groom arrives at the house with gifts and is welcomed by the bride’s family. And by family I mean Vietnamese family, so that’s 5000 people waiting at the door for him.

The ceremony starts with the father of the bride lighting up incense sticks and mistakenly starting the ceremony with: “Today is the wedding day of Benoit and Tina.” (That’s his other daughter’s name.) I love the shot of his reaction after he realized his mistake.

 

Wardrobe change!


We went to Fort Chambly, a beautiful national historic site. The sun was out blazing with no clouds to diffuse the harsh light, so I had to find pockets of shade like these pictures. Or angle my subjects to be side lit, between myself and the sun.

If I do use the hard light, I usually try to zoom out slightly and grab more of an environmental portrait with more context and less focus on the faces, kinda like this.

Fast forward a few hours, I’m setting up my lights in the reception room in Hotel Mortagne. The DJ and a waiter tell me that my lights are in their way in a very rude way (p.s. it wasn’t REALLY in their way. I just get a lot that people talking down on me, maybe I look too young or something). My reply is always a polite reply said in the nicest way possible to make them realize they were being super rude. Then they feel bad. Hehe.

Okay anyway, it was a fun wedding reception, they had everyone on the dance floor at all times, the first dance was really cool, and it’s the first time I see a piñata at a wedding so some points there.

Congrats again to Chantal and Benoit!

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I’m still alive!

August 6th, 2012

So as you may have noticed I haven’t updated this website in about 6 months. Fortunately I’m not dead. Just slightly slacking off, but I’ve also been super busy with grad school applications. So it turns out I’ll still be sticking around at McGill for my M.Sc for the next two years. Not in Montreal however, I’ll be heading back to Panama to do my research there and go hang out with toucans. Definitely expect some pictures when that time comes. :D

Anyway, although I’ve been slacking off on the blog, I was still taking pictures during the year. Here’s a little overview of the few assignments I’ve been doing.

First, I’ve had a few assignments from McGill News. My relationship with them started back when they asked to use a few pictures of my field course in Mont St-Hilaire including this shot of a Red-backed Salamander.

We caught this little guy under a rock. When they feel threatened, they have a really cool defense mechanism where they will just drop their tail and run away while the tail, detached from the body, squirms around like crazy. Crazy diversion tactic. The human equivalent would be something along the lines of cutting our own hand off when surrounded by a street gang and then running away while the dismantled hand is flipping off the very confused enemies.

Okay back to McGill News. For this one they ran a story on the McGill Daily and asked me to get a shot of Joan Moses, the coordinating editor of the Daily. One of the images from this story ended up making the front page of the McGill website which was pretty cool.

These next shots were part of a story where professors and students of McGill picked their “favorite spots” on campus. Professor Watson (top), an economics professor, chose the Faculty Club restaurant, which is this ridiculously fancy looking restaurant hidden right on campus. Chandeliers and tuxedo-wearing waiters in an old mansion. Or maybe my memory is just over-glorifying this. I’ll try to sneak back in there one day. Then there was Professor Friedman, in architecture, who chose the Redpath museum as his favorite location, notably because he appreciated the arching windows in the back.

I also had an assignment with McGill Faculty of Science Alumni Newsletter on our Bio lounge, but the story never went through, so I can’t show you the picture now. Maybe next time. Aside from these assignments I’ve also had a few regular people/portrait shoots, just like with Devin & Michela.

And a maternity shoot (this is Melanie, you may recognize her as the bride from one of my weddings!).

And then these guys, Architek Percussion, a cool all-percussionists band.

 See? So I haven’t been that lazy. I’ll be back to a more regular posting schedule. So come back for more!