Nay, I'll have a starling shall be taught to speak nothing but 'Mortimer'
-- William Shakespeare, Henry IV, Pt 1, Act 1
Because of this single reference to a starling in Shakespeare, starlings (Sturnus vulgaris) were imported from England and released in Central Park in New York by a misguided Shakespeare enthusiast in the late 19th Century. From these releases came all the starlings in North America. The starling is probably the least favourite bird of all North American birders.
But when is a starling more wanted, appreciatively tolerated, or simply found distracting? Odd questions, until you put them in the context of a recent photo I took. Let me explain...
When I'm photographing, some photos are planned, some are dictated by events and some are simply found -- the photographic equivalent of objets trouvés. I may plan a photoshoot of morning light at the Port Credit Harbour, I may need to take photos of a family event such as a birthday celebration, but often I simply notice something while I'm carrying a camera.
Starling and Lamp, September 2003
(click on image for a larger, clearer view)Such was the case with Starling and Lamp. I was on my way to an all-day workshop at Ryerson University called Wordstock 2003. I had an early start and was standing on the platform of the Port Credit GO station waiting for a train. With my Canon G2 digital I began taking a few record shots of how the platform looks in early morning light. The sun had just risen and the platform lamps were still lit.
Looking up, I noticed some starlings flying from lamp to lamp. They were too far away for good photos, but when I looked up at the lamp nearest me, I was struck by the minimalist potential of the lamp against the blue morning sky and a lone starling facing the sunrise. I took the shot at maximum telephoto (the zoom on my G2 delivers approx 105mm equivalent in 35mm terms). When I reviewed the tiny blip representing the starling on the LCD panel, I mentally wrote this one off as another failed experiment.
I later transferred the images to my computer and took a closer look at the day's shooting. The Ryerson shots were humdrum. The record shots of the GO platform in early morning light yielded a couple of decent images. But the starling and lamp shot, to me, was the surprising keeper of the day.
I shared this photo on the Outdoor Eyes photo forum. It's my main photo hangout -- a supportive, friendly place where folks post some great images and offer gentle critiques, comments and lots of encouragement. I was curious to see what this somewhat offbeat image would elicit.
To my surprise, some OE'ers liked the image as much as I did, and really understood the design elements I was working with. One very excellent nature photographer, however, thought the starling was much too small, and the lamp too bright, and encouraged me to keep at it and maybe choose another time of day and perhaps a different angle. Another liked the lamp but thought I should take it by itself without the "distracting" starling.
I found this exchange splendid! It demonstrates the individuality of the human mind and how it takes its own paths in response to images. No two of us see exactly alike. To each of us the starling was either more wanted, appreciatively tolerated, found distracting, or something ambivalently all or none of the above.
But wanted or not, nobody loves a starling. Or so I thought until I discovered the artist Don Wesley who finds the starling worthy of serious artistic attention: "My current focus is on depicting Starlings as the proud and triumphant explorers and conquerers that they are." (see Don's painting at the top of this entry)
We humans are refreshing in our differences.
(23-Sep-2003, Revised 16-Jun-2004)
www.NorthernJourney.com -- gene@wilburn.ca