About Me

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Spofford, New Hampshire, United States
Jeff Newcomer had been a physician practicing in New Hampshire and Vermont for over 30 years. Over that time, as a member of the Conservation Commission in his home of Chesterfield New Hampshire, he has used his photography to promote the protection and appreciation of the town's wild lands. In recent years he has been transitioning his focus from medicine to photography, writing and teaching. Jeff enjoys photographing throughout New England, but has concentrated on the Monadnock Region and southern Vermont and has had a long term artistic relationship with Mount Monadnock. He is a featured artist in a number of local galleries and his work is often seen in regional print, web publications and in business installations throughout the country. For years Jeff has published a calendar celebrating the beauty of The New England country-side in all seasons. All of the proceeds from his New England Reflections Calendar have gone to support the Pulmonary Rehabilitation Program at the Cheshire Medical Center. Jeff has a strong commitment to sharing his excitement about the special beauty of our region and publishes a blog about photography in New England.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Forty Foot Falls & Below





With all the rain recently the water has been surging over Forty Foot Falls in Surry NH. This water fall, which is part of Merriam Brook, is one of the least well known in the region, but can be quite spectacular. This anonymity is probably due to a number of factors including the fact that the falls is tucked away at the end of a neglected unmarked dirt road and is partially accessed across a decaying bridge. Unfortunately, the actual falls are at the head of a deep, narrow ravine, bordered by shear rocky cliffs. It is nearly impossible to get a full view of the falls. Probably the best angle comes from above the falls as seen here, but I have also captured views from across the bridge looking up stream. I have always felt that the best part of Forty Foot Falls is actually the other, more accessible, waterfalls and cascades that are below the tallest drop. Yesterday the flow over this section was almost too intense. Heavy flows tend to become indistinct during the long exposures required by the fading light. I had to try to find views that included rocks to break up the surge and focus on areas were the drop was more pronounced, combing the water into many smaller strands. Shorter shutter speeds can help, and I tried using an ISO of 400 with wider apertures to get the exposure to less than one second. It was great getting back out to this interesting spot. It was certainly worth dealing with the off an on rain. Photographers live for bad weather.



Sunday, March 21, 2010

Flowing Water Season

For Photographers there are really 6 seasons in New England. Winter, Spring, Summer and Fall each holds special image making opportunities, but the challenging seasons are the other two. Between the glorious fall colors of October and the pristine beauty of winter lies November, or as we call it "stick season". Although I try to find photographic opportunities during this barren period, I typically spend my time working on the back-log of autumn images while praying for snow. We are now in that other transition season, which I think should be called "flowing water season". In March the buds begin to show, but the trees are every bit as bare as in November. What saves us is the spring run-off . Waterfalls that for much of the year display a trickling flow explode in glory during this brief period. We all grab our tripods and head out to catch the satiny pattern of flowing water taken in a long exposure. Water NEVER actually looks like that, but who cares!



I finally got out for a few hours yesterday for my end of season "Calendar Tour", circling through the region picking up money and unsold 2010 New England Reflections Calendars. We had a good year, selling over 700 Calendars to benefit the Pulmonary Rehabilitation at The Cheshire Medical Center in Keene, NH. Naturally I was looking for images along the way, but yesterday was a beautiful warm sunny day - it was terrible for flowing water. There are a number of ways to deal with harsh bright light. The first is to get up early and shot during the "golden hour". Unfortunately, since I knew I had to do my store rounds when the stores were actually open, I slept late. One of first places I stopped was in Mill Hollow. The old mill sits next to Camp Brook which drains from Lake Warren in Alstead, NH. The Brook was roaring, but the bright sun was right in my face creating terrible contrast. I grabbed a few miserable pictures, but then noticed a small wisp of cloud that was creeping toward the sun. After about 15 minutes the cloud veiled the light long enough for 3 quick images. The result was a workable shot. I then spent the next 45 minutes jumping from cloud to cloud before finally moving on. By the time I took the image along the brook in Gilsum there was no chance for a cloud reprieve. Here I was able to combine ISO of 100, f20 and a polarizer to slow the shutter to a water softening 1/10 second. The problem was that, with all that depth of field, the foreground tree tended to be lost in the sharply detailed background. In this case I used the bright light as a spotlight on the tree and darkened the background in post. It's not perfect, but what do you expect from crappy light. Let the water flow ! But a Little green will be nice too.

Friday, August 28, 2009

Return of a Classic : Colonial Theatre, Keene, NH

I just finished a shoot for the beautiful Colonial Theatre in Keene New Hampshire. The goal was to document the great work that has been done in recent years to restore this classic venue to its former glory. The theatre opened as the cultural hub of Keene on January 29th , 1924. Early in its service the theatre hosted many live performances as well as movies, but it had fallen into disrepair as the years past. The theatre was saved from decay and destruction by a dedicated group of community members and with $2 million dollars raised from grants and donations the necessary infrastructure renovations have return the Colonial to its original gilded grandeur. It was an inspiring experience spending several hours recording both the grand landscape of the theatre and its endless detail, but the only true representation of the Colonial's spirit is when it is packed with people enjoying one of the many live shows that have returned to its historic stage.For more images check out my Flickr set at :

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

New Hampshire's Great North Woods


It's great when your wife is the one going to the conference and you can spend the weekend shooting! That was the opportunity I had this spring to discover New Hampshire's North woods for the first time. Based at the classic Balsams Resort in Dixville Notch , I wandered the region though the typically variable seasonal weather. Coming that far north at the end of May was like stepping back 2-3 weeks into early spring. The colors still had the lush variations of green that make spring New England's second fall. And like the fall, the show is just as fleeting. As can be seen here and in my set on Flikr(http://www.flickr.com/photos/27036710@N05/sets/72157619544063298/),

spring in New England is also about running water and the area around Dixsville Notch has some great examples. I didn't have time to extensively explore the great system of trails around the Balsams, but if you plan to take one easy hike I would suggest the short trail to Table Rock. This shear out-cropping provides a spectacular (and a bit scary) vista from the resort below into the notch.


I spent much of my time exploring cascades and water falls knifing through the dense forest, but my best surprise was discovering the village of Stark. Stark is east of Groveton on Route 110 and is one of the neatest, uncluttered examples of the small New England village I have found. Defintely worth the trip in any season, but I hope to get back in the fall and winter.

I only had a couple days at the Balsams, but the food was great and I only scratched the surface of the photographic possibilities there. It's a long way, but I will definitely be abck


Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Winter on the Top of New England



New Hampshire’s Mt Washington at 6,288 feet is the tallest peak in the Northeast and famously the home of the "World's Worst Weather". This claim originates from the fact that the Mt Washington Observatory recorded the worlds highest surface wind speed in April 1934, at 231 mph. The mountain is also at the intersection of several important storm tracks from across the country. The combination of wind, cold and precipitation make the mountain one of the most inhospitable, continuously occupied places on earth.

The Mount Washington Observatory is a privately funded, non-profit institution dedicated to education and scientific investigation of weather and climate. The observatory’s most notable achievement has been the maintenance of its summit weather station, which has reported conditions on the mountaintop 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, for decades.

The observatory is generally closed to the public during the winter months, but there is the opportunity to visit the summit as part of one of their scheduled educational trips. These overnight “Edutrips” allow the experience of dealing with the incredibly harsh weather while learning about a variety of related topics such as winter mountaineering, & meteorology. On March 12-13 I had the opportunity to take part in photography based trip and had a truly unique experience. Ned Therrien, a nature photographer who has a wealth of experience in the mountains, led the workshop. Ned has guided groups to the top of Mt. Washington for over 30 years.

The trip started in the morning with a more than 7 mile ride to the top of the mountain on a snow tractor. The Bombardier tractor not only transports people and supplies but also is involved in the continuous clearing and maintenance of the narrow winding road to the summit. It was a bumpy ride with a potential tumble into oblivion always just a few feet away. In the tractor we were required be dressed for the possibility that , at any time, we might need to pop out and walk back down the mountain in a howling gale. The cabin comfortably accommodated all 8 of us, but I was luck to have the opportunity to ride in the cab with our driver Gus for the first part of the trip.

On this trip we were blessed with unusually beautiful weather, but it didn’t seem that way at first. We arrived with the summit in a cloud, more than 20 degrees below zero and winds in the mid 90’s – gusting to over 100! Of course this is the stuff we came for but it did make photography about as difficult as can be imagined. Surviving in wind chills of more than 70 degrees below zero is a challenge in itself. The Observatory insists on a very specific list of clothing – many layers and NO COTTON, which looses its insulating effect when damp. No skin can be exposed or risk almost instantaneous frostbite. Surprisingly, with proper clothing, it was possible to move outside without feeling cold, but the real challenge was to stay upright in the wind. Movement in 90 mph winds required short steps from a crouched position, and seriously spiked crampons were an absolute necessity to grip the rock hard ice sheet under foot.

The challenges of photography in these conditions were daunting. First, simply holding a camera was a struggle. Tripods are at best useless and at worst dangerous when they become wind blown missiles. A monopod would have been a real help, but all I could do was hold the camera close to my body and wait for a relative lull in the gale. High ISOs (400-800) were required to allow a shutter speeds fast enough to limit the shake. Framing and focusing was also a struggle. Even with good goggles my glasses fogged up instantly. I eventually had to go without, but still the goggles frosted over in 10-15 minutes. I had to depend completely on auto-focus, at least until the frost obscured my view of the focusing dot. The scene could only be roughly framed since the goggles allowed me to see only a portion of the view finder field at any one time. This is where a live LCD would have been a real advantage. As expected battery life was also an issue in the drastically sub-zero weather. I had two spares kept in an inside pocket for warmth, but I ran through all three batteries in about 45 minutes of shooting. Of course my poor Canon 5d was frozen solid by the time I returned to the welcome warmth of the observatory. I was excited to see what I was able to capture, especially since I couldn’t see a thing while I was outside, but I was frustrated by the necessity of bagging my camera for several hours to avoid condensation as it warmed to normal temperature.

Enough whining! This was an incredible experience that I will never forget. Bundled up as if in a space suit, walking on a landscape that appeared more like the moon than earth, it was truly like being on another planet. Of course, on the moon, the wind doesn’t blow quite as ferociously! Although we had a tough start the weather progressively improved during our time on the summit. By evening we were treated to a dramatic sunset breaking through the clouds and the next morning dawned crystal clear. During the winter the summit of Mt. Washington enjoys only a few clear days each month– getting a sunset and a sunrise on one overnight trip is almost unheard of. When it was time to leave the summit on the afternoon of the second day the wind had dropped to 40-50 mph with the temperature soaring to a balmy 5 degrees below zero! It felt like Bermuda weather!

I have included a few of the pictures from the trip here but I’m still adding images to my web site: http://www.partridgebrookreflections.com/ and to my Flickr account : http://www.flickr.com/photos/27036710@N05/. Check them out. Despite the weather, the images reflect a peace and clarity that it was hard to fully absorb at the time. To properly appreciate the experience you must view the photographs while imagining the sound of a freight train roaring past about an inch from your ears. The light on the summit had a remarkable brilliance and sparkle that made everything stand out in crisp relief. The sky was noticeably darker at that altitude, making regular unfiltered images appear as if they were shot through a polarizer.

I must talk about the friendliness and hospitality of the staff in the observatory. The weather observers stay on the summit for week-long shifts. Someone is always awake recording hourly observations regardless of the weather. Despite their hectic schedules the staff was always very approachable and excited to talk about their experiences on “the rock”. You should ask Ryan to tell you about the night he was blown across the summit by 150 mph winds. The staff and visitors live and work in a small collection of rooms cocooned within the 3 feet of reinforced concrete of the observatory building. During the summer the observatory bustles with a steady stream of visitors but in the winter the place is surprisingly cozy and peaceful. The mattresses in the shared bunkroom were rock hard, but the food was great. Volunteers, who sign up for weeklong shifts, prepare meals on the summit. On our trip, a couple from Massachusetts, provided both great food and a feeling of family warmth.

Overall this was an incredible experience as much for the struggle with the elements as for the unique photographic opportunities. I would highly recommend the observatory’s Edutrips. I hope you will be as blessed as we were with spectacular weather.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Call of the Sea



Having grown up spending my summers in on the water in Gloucester Ma, I have always loved the sea coast. Much of my early photographic experiences focused on the ocean during the long summer cruises taken along the New England coast in my parent’s little 26’ boat. The Monadnock Region and Southern Vermont have been great places to center my photography but the Atlantic Coast is the one thing that I miss about living in central New England. In recent years I’ve tried to reconnect with the sea on a number of photo shoots, but I never explored the area in the winter. Over the last several weeks renovations have left us without a kitchen and that provided the perfect excuse to get out of town for a long weekend. Sue and I visited old friends in Portland Maine (one of my favorite New England cities) for 3 days and I got a couple of sunrises at the edge of the Atlantic. I also had a chance to meet and go out shooting with another “Flickr Friend”. I have admired Peter Urbanski’s images for some time. Peter lives near Portland and when I decided to go over for a winter shoot I had to give him a call. He was incredible welcoming and generous with his knowledge of the region, but I was surprised to discover that Peter is not a big fan of seacoast images. As you can see on his flickr stream (http://www.flickr.com/photos/31258799@N08/), he focuses on beautifully composed images of classic New England farms and country-side. He apparently envies my proximity to the “Currier & Ives” region of New England. I guess proximity does breed contempt or at least ambivalence. Although the weather wasn’t perfect (I had hoped for some good fog or at least a blizzard), we still had a great time shooting the sunrise off Wolfe’s Neck in Freeport. Most enjoyable was the several hours of conversation while we struggle to stay warm. Although the morning was mostly cloudy we did get a glimpse of sun just as it rose above the horizon. To tame the contrast I used a gentle touch of HDR on the image here. Wolfe’s Neck Woods State Park is a beautiful 233 acre wooded seaside refuge close to Portland and miles away from the consumer craziness in nearby downtown Freeport. I will definitely try to get back in other seasons.

I also couldn’t resist returning to Portland Head Light for a sunrise. There is a reason why the Cape Elizabeth lighthouse is the most photographed in the country – it is THE classic Maine coast lighthouse, sitting defiantly on its rocky promontory begging to be captured. The challenge at Portland Head is to try to find perspectives that have not been done thousands of times before. On this morning the lighthouse was bathed in the warm crystal-clear light that has a special sparkle in winter, The resulting iamges belied the blustery cold that swirled around me. After I grabbed the unavoidable grand vistas, I focused more closely on the way the light played on the lighthouse and surrounding buildings. The problem with getting in close is the keystone effect as you angle up to the top of the tower. I would like to be able to afford a $2000+ tilt-shift lens to correct for the distortion, but for the foreseeable future I do quite nicely with skew transformations in Photoshop. The keys to this poor man’s tilt-shift are to get the camera as high as possible to reduce the key-stoning and then pull back a bit on the focal length to leave room around the edges of your composition. This will help avoid loosing something important as you perform the necessary cropping.

All-in–all it was a great weekend of friends and photography. I hope I won’t have to wait for another new kitchen before I get back to the Maine coast in winter. I been having trouble finding time to add to my blog, but it seems that when I start it is hard to shut up. Sorry, but I am comforted by the fact that few people read this stuff anyway.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Flying Solo ?


A couple of weeks ago I had the opportunity to go out shooting with Larry through Hancock and Harrisville, NH on a crystal clear sub-zero morning. I had admired Larry’s work on Flickr and when I asked him where a particularly beautiful image was taken, he generously offered to show me around some of his favorite locations. My usual approach to photo exploration is go out on my own, or perhaps accompanied by our dog Nelly (she of infinite patience). I fire up my GPS and PhotoTracker, plug in the iPod and start wandering. There are advantages to going solo. My schedules and routes are my own and I only have to worry about getting one person out of bed before dawn. In the past I’ve found that larger photo workshops can get a bit hectic as personal preferences become subservient to the needs of the group and the magic of quiet pristine locations are trampled by many feet and voices. Shooting with Larry however reminded me that there is a lot to be gained by learning from someone else’s vision. Traveling through the classic New England mill town of Harrisville, NH, I was focusing on the light and lines created by the red brick structures, but Larry pointed out the shadow created by one of the towers. I would have cruised right by that remarkable image. One of the central excitements of photography is how two people looking at the same scene can come back with entirely different visions. Seeing through someone else’s eye is one of the best ways of expanding your own ability to see all the potential in a location. Of course it is also interesting to share experiences about technique, equipment and marketing strategy with friends, but I believe the advantages of four eyes and two different sensibilities is most valuable.


I expect that I will continue to fly solo on many of my photographic explorations, but I will also seek out more opportunities to expand my vision with others. Larry has my open invitation to come to my corner of New England to share SOME of my best locations.